No results found.
Vader scowled at the screen, then typed again, as if entering the same answer repeatedly would somehow net a different answer. PROJECT FROZEN STEEL.
No results found.
"You might as well give up," the mechanical avian snarled from behind him, its beaked face somehow managing to grin. "Neither of us has found anything, and we've been ransacking your archives for decacycles. What makes you think a fleshbag can do it?"
Vader ignored Laserbeak and tried again, this time altering the phrase. SHAPE-CHANGING DROID RELATED PROJECT.
No results found.
MEGATRON.
No results found.
MEGATRON LOCATION OF.
No results found.
Vader brought a fist down on the controls, resulting in a string of gibberish characters being entered into the search field.
No results found.
"Gotta give it to him, Beaky, he's tenacious," Frenzy chuckled.
"One can almost admire such a stubborn one," Laserbeak purred.
Vader turned to regard his unlikely guests – or more accurately, his prisoners. The former mouse and interrogation droids glared back at him from within their energy-shielded cages, cube-shaped frameworks of durasteel that bore no bars but walls of plasma a hair's-breadth thick. Said walls were still impenetrable as meter-thick ferrocrete, however… something the spindly silver mech had proven by running into them repeatedly in an effort to break free.
One could only wonder just what the worker who had received the Dark Lord's demand for the cages, normally used to contain vicious animals or smaller sentient prisoners, had thought of the command. Quite possibly his order was now serving as prime gossip among the civilian workers and lower-ranked soldiers of this battle station. Let them talk, Vader decided. Anything they could come up with would still be far less strange than the truth.
"We're only being honest, Black One," Laserbeak sneered, glaring at the Dark Lord without a trace of fear. "You can't fault us for that. What makes you think you'll succeed where we failed?"
Vader clenched his fist. Had one of his underlings mouthed off to him in such a fashion, he would have crushed their throat in a heartbeat. Even now the temptation to reach out with the Force and smash this mechanism's head in burned within him. Only the knowledge that these creatures held valuable information – information that could very well win the war, or even overthrow his master – stayed his hand.
Information… Just thinking that word cooled his temper slightly. Perhaps he had been going about this all wrong. He had two ready sources of information before him; why not use them? Better to go looking further for Megatron and Project Frozen Steel when he had some idea of just what those things were, after all.
"You." He pointed to Frenzy. "Who or what is Megatron?"
Frenzy glanced up from scrabbling at the steel framework of his cage. "Oh no, you ain't using your telepath tricks on me again! Ask Laser for once!"
"Sure, throw me under the transport," Laserbeak growled. The avian mechanism swiveled his head toward Vader, long neck swaying like a serpent's. "But we aren't telling. Soundwave would kill us for giving information to a squishy."
Vader raised his hand, and Laserbeak shuddered at the pressure against his chassis. "Perhaps Soundwave will kill you if you speak… but I will definitely kill you if you keep silent."
The avian hissed, digging his claws into the floor of his cage. "Megatron is the leader of the Decepticons – our kind."
So these creatures – these Decepticons – were hunting for their missing commander. "How is Megatron connected to Project Frozen Steel?"
Frenzy cackled. "He really is stupid! Doesn't know his own kind's moronic project to keep Megatron chained-"
Vader released Laserbeak and pointed at Frenzy again, and the slender Decepticon shrieked as he was flung against the back wall of his cage, bouncing off in a shower of white-hot sparks. He twitched a moment on the floor of the enclosure, then scrambled to his feet, still smoking at the joints and chittering mutinously in some alien language.
"You will forgive my associate," Laserbeak noted, though his words bore a faint chuckle that Vader took to mean he was glad to see his comrade take the blow and not him. "He never was one to mute his vocalizer when he held a strong opinion."
So he had gathered. "You believe the Empire is holding Megatron prisoner?"
"Believe?" Laserbeak arched his neck and spat a glob of an oily substance that hit the wall of his cage and burst into flames. "We know. The Empire has Megatron… and while that odious Starscream is content to rule in his stead, the TRUE Decepticons hunt for our liege. We were hunting for his location on Scarif when your wasteful attack interrupted us… and we came aboard this ship to continue the search. But you seem intent on delaying us."
Vader mulled over this information. "Impossible," he said at last. "If the Empire were holding a sentient mechanical life form in any facility, I would know."
Frenzy cackled. "So our technorganic friend thinks he's omniscient all of a sudden! What, you in charge of this circus? Or maybe someone lower'n you's keeping secrets." His multiple optics waggled at the end of their stalks in an oddly sardonic expression. "Or someone higher'n you."
Vader didn't reply… but the creature's words both troubled and angered him. The Emperor's right-hand man and apprentice he might be, but he knew his master was not above keeping secrets from him. It would be like him to have captured the leader of these living machines and, for one reason or another, hidden its existence from his student. Had he really expected to have stumbled upon the one thing that could help him overthrow the Emperor without learning that his wily master had learned the secret first?
"He won't be held by your kind for long," Laserbeak hissed. "We will find him… we will set him free… and he will have the price of his humiliation in your kind's blood, stupid flesh creature."
Laserbeak's words were meant to threaten… and yet they sparked a sudden flare of inspiration in Vader's mind. It was a wild idea, one that could backfire badly if anything went wrong – but it would be rich revenge for everything Palpatine had ever done to him, and a way to seize control of the Empire once and for all. What better way to overthrow his master than to hoist him by his own petard – for if Palpatine truly held Megatron captive, surely he would be the focus of the Decepticon commander's vengeance if he ever broke free.
And once Palpatine was out of the way, Vader would be free to take command of the Empire… and free to offer Megatron an offer he couldn't refuse.
He gestured sharply… and the energy fields containing the two Decepticons fizzled out. They froze, staring at Vader as if he had lost his mind.
"You will find him… and I will help you," Vader informed them. "But in return, I seek an alliance with your kind."
Frenzy cackled again. "The boss doesn't truck with squishies!"
Laserbeak, however, cocked his head to one side in consideration. "What do you possibly think you can offer Megatron in an alliance?"
"Troops. Raw materials. Energy. The resources he requires for your people's goals, whatever they may be."
"And you're in a position to promise him such should we find him?" Laserbeak inquired.
Vader didn't hesitate. "I will be."
Laserbeak pondered that, then nodded. "I will relay the request to Soundwave. If he accepts… then the bargain is struck. Help us find Megatron, and the Decepticons and the Empire shall work together."
Frenzy hissed. "Don't be makin' promises we know Starscream won't keep."
"If Megatron is released, Starscream won't be a problem," Laserbeak purred. "Very well, Black One…"
"Darth Vader," Vader corrected. "Though you may properly address me as 'my lord.'"
Laserbeak's hooked mandibles almost seemed to sneer at that, but he nodded. "Very well, my lord. Where do we look first?"
"How are your hacking skills?"
Frenzy tittered and waved his claws. "Lookin' at a master here."
"Then we depart for Corusant as soon as possible. There are restricted archives there that should be most informative for all of us."
Frenzy cackled. "I feel good about this partnership."
"I don't," Laserbeak huffed. "But it would seem we haven't much choice." He dipped his head in a bow toward Vader. "What will you have us do in the meantime, my lord?"
Vader ignored the mocking tone in the mech's words. "I will have a transport prepared. In the meantime, we have a… guest… that shall accompany us."
Leia didn't bother to even get up from the sleeping ledge as her cell door slid open. She had no delusions that this was a rescue – Tarkin wanted her executed, and no doubt would order it carried out immediately once he'd discovered that the Rebel Base on Dantooine was long deserted. This would be her escort to whatever room had been chosen for her termination… or simply her executioner, here to put a plasma bolt through her head and quietly dispose of her body. The second option was less likely – Tarkin would want an audience for her death – but entirely possible.
Let it happen, she thought with a mixture of defiance and resignation. Let the location of the Alliance die with me. It would be her final act to protect the freedom fighters who strove to overthrow the Empire and restore justice to the galaxy – an honorable way to go, in her opinion. And it would enable her to see her father again, and join the people of Alderaan beyond the void…
"Princess?" The voice was rough, guttural, and oddly mechanical. Had they sent a droid to collect her for her execution? "Princess, wake up. We must hurry."
She opened her eyes a crack… and found a curious being staring back at her. A droid, yes, but no make of droid she was familiar with. It had a strange piecemeal look to its armor, with a fair amount of its internal workings exposed, and its shining armor was a shocking metallic pink. Its optics, a vivid scarlet, looked far more intricate than was standard for most droids, and in place of the usual vocalizer slit commonplace in humanoid droids it bore what almost looked like insectoid mandibles. Compared to the elegant look of protocol droids or the hulking lack of personality in enforcer droids, this one was a bizarre anomaly on the station… and the garish color did nothing to help.
"You're not an Imperial droid." It was a statement, not a question.
"No," the droid acknowledged. It hunched in the doorway of her cell, cocking its head like a curious animal. "I was sent by the Rebellion. This is a rescue."
She blinked, wondering if the combined traumas of the past few days were finally making her mind crack. Her brain just couldn't comprehend that the Alliance had sent a bright pink droid to facilitate her escape. True, she'd sent a droid to get the Death Star plans to General Kenobi, but at least that had been a normal droid. Not this thing that looked to have been badly designed as a little girl's playmate.
"We are pressed for time," the droid insisted, and she thought she could detect exasperation in its queer facial construction. "So if you could finish gawking and move your feet, it would be appreciated."
Leia blinked, feeling a spike of anger… and an absurd impulse to burst out laughing. Droids left to their own devices often developed strange personality quirks, and this one's oddities, while abrasive, were a refreshing change from the simpering politeness of many droids she was used to.
"Who sent you?" she asked. She couldn't picture General Dodonna or Senator Mothma sending a single garishly-colored mechanism to rescue her, but then, the Rebellion was in dire straits at the moment, and you couldn't exactly choose your heroes.
The droid paused, cocking its head to the other side. "I am not at liberty to say."
She frowned, troubled. While the appearance of her hot-pink savior had given her a brief flare of hope, suspicion rose just as quickly to snuff it. Without some kind of proof that this droid had been sent by a trusted member of the Alliance, she had no way of knowing that this wasn't just an elaborate trap. It could be a gambit on Tarkin's part to justify shooting her as an escaped prisoner, or an awful scheme on the part of another Imperial to wrest the satisfaction of eliminating an important Rebel agent from the Grand Moff.
"You don't trust me?" the droid asked, looking enormously put out. "I'm here to help you, Princess. Though I suppose I could always just leave you here… you look to be enjoying your solitude. A solitude I doubt you'll be around to enjoy much longer."
Leia hesitated… then made her decision. She had accepted her fate as a martyr for the Alliance, but suddenly that option seemed much less appealing now that a chance at escape had presented itself. She would play along, follow the droid out of the cell, and make a break for it if it appeared to be double-crossing her. If it was truly a Rebellion plan, then well and good. If it was a trap… at least she was forewarned. And the moment it appeared her rescuer was about to double-cross her, she could still run – and hopefully shoot it if she could acquire a weapon along the way.
She just hoped that whoever had sent this droid had ensured it had a proper plan programmed into its CPU, something besides "open the cell, shoot everything that moves, and run." That sort of plan rarely worked out in the end.
"All right," she said at last, pushing herself off the ledge. "Let's go. I'm ready."
"Good." The droid motioned for her to follow it. "There's a shuttle preparing to depart to Coruscant shortly. I'm to smuggle you aboard it."
That sounded incredibly risky – Coruscant was the seat of power for the Empire, and it was difficult for any known Rebel to sneak on or off the planet. Still, despite being the center of the galaxy in more ways than one, it was a planet full of nooks and crannies where any number of resistance cells could hide, and once there she should be able to contact one and find proper refuge. It wouldn't be easy… but she would cross that bridge when they came to it.
The unlikely duo made their way out of the cell and into the control room of the detention block, which was eerily deserted. Lumps of dripping silicon and metal slag marked where someone had fried the cameras, which at least explained how her rescuer had avoided detection. How it had managed to get rid of the guards was less clear, but then, it wouldn't be the first time idiot soldiers had left a station unattended to use the refresher or sneak in some illicit recreation.
"What's your designation?" she asked.
The droid paused, tilting its head again in that curious manner. "BKE-1984, but you may call me Beaky."
"I've never seen a droid like you before."
"Not many have," Beaky noted, going to a set of doors and plugging a jack from within its wrist into the controls. "I'm a new military prototype."
She raised an eyebrow. "Military prototypes are pink now?"
Beaky's optics flashed. "It's a temporary paint job. Shut up."
She snorted lightly but decided not to press it. Perhaps whoever the designers had hired to paint the droid had a bizarre sense of humor and liked the thought of a military droid being a completely unsuitable color. Or just liked pink.
The doors slid open, and Beaky stepped back and gave a wave of its hand. "After you, your Highness."
Well, THAT wasn't suspicious at all. "You first."
Beaky made a sound like a resigned sigh. "Of course, your Excellency. Let me risk my core for you." It stepped through the door. "Follow me, then, your Grace."
Leia nodded and hurried down the corridor. She would have felt much better about this rescue if she'd managed to procure a weapon beforehand, but she didn't have a lot of choice in the matter, it seemed. For now, her life was in Beaky's hands. She would simply have to trust that the odd prototype knew what it was doing.
As the unlikely duo made their way deeper into the station, "Beaky" took a moment to fire off a message to the others.
I have her. We're leaving the detention block as we speak.
'Bout fraggin' time, Frenzy snickered. You stop to defrag along the way?
Shut up. It's not my fault she was obstinate about leaving.
Take her to Hangar 12, Vader ordered. Ensure she finds her way aboard my shuttle. Do not fail me, Laserbeak.
The Decepticon snorted to himself as he rounded a corner. He didn't exactly make it a habit of failing his superiors, and he wasn't about to start now.
When Han had agreed to transport a fresh-faced farm kid, a crazy old man, and two droids to Alderaan, he'd assumed it would be a simple mission with a hefty payout. An easy journey with the promise of being able to pay Jabba the Hutt and get the crime lord off his back had been too good an opportunity to pass up. He should have realized by now that there was no such thing as easy money, and that whenever a job seemed too good to be true, it generally was.
Still, usually when a mission went unmentionable-parts-up, it was generally in the realm of being shot at or having to jettison some illicit cargo. It didn't involve his ship suddenly turning into a sentient being, or being coerced into taking along several extra – and gigantic – passengers.
At the moment he was alone in the cockpit, stewing over everything Obi-wan and Optimus had told him. Once they had entered hyperspace Chewie had gone back into the rec area to engage in a holochess game with the droids, while Luke took lessons in some ancient religious hokum from the old man. The giant droids – no, they weren't called that – the Autobots were in the cargo area with their precious cube, discussing their next plan of action.
Han had protested when Optimus had requested a ride, insisting that the Falcon wasn't big enough to carry them all. In response the Falcon had simply opened her cargo bay doors, revealing an interior much larger than he remembered. Ratchet had given him some explanation about "subspace pockets" that involved way too many big words, but the general gist of it had been that, thanks to Cybertronian technology, the Falcon was now bigger on the inside than she appeared on the outside.
The Falcon… his ship… of all the craziness he'd heard today, that rankled him most deeply. He'd been from one side of the galaxy to the other and seen and heard a lot of weird things, so the knowledge that shape-changing robots that had managed to develop personalities and their own culture wasn't too surprising. Nor was the fact that they were engaged in a war – war seemed to just come part and parcel with being sentient, so why not? The shiny cube was weirder, but he was sure it could be explained by some kind of advanced tech, even if he wasn't sure how it worked yet. Maybe if all this went too far south, he could fetch a nice price for it.
But knowing that his ship had been violated by that thing, altered beyond recognition, was too much. With a snarled expletive he brought his fist down on the console. Why did they have to drag him into this, and ruin the one thing in his life he cared enough to fight for?
A pained yelp filled the cockpit at the blow, and he froze. Wasn't he supposed to be alone here? Then he remembered, and frowned down at the console.
"Don't tell me that hurt," he said without thinking.
"Not really." Falcon's voice was softer when it issued from the ship's computer instead of her titanic robotic body, but it was still deep and resonant. "Just surprising. I'm used to being shot at, but not hit."
Han blinked. "Used to? You're saying you remember being shot at?"
"Mm-hmm. Why does that surprise you? You were there for a lot of those firefights."
"I just… didn't think you'd remember them. You WERE kind of born this morning."
A low chuckle issued from the computer. "I may not have been sentient until… whatever-it-was happened, but I still have memories of before. Images and readouts mostly, but they're still part of who I am now."
Some part of Han burned with curiosity, wanting to know more – how often did one get the chance to talk to a newly-sentient ship, after all – but he stubbornly clamped his jaw shut.
"Han… have I done something to upset you?" Falcon's voice was tinged with worry. "Is that why you hit me?"
Han took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "It's not you."
"Then what? Something bothers you, and it started when I began to be able to think for myself."
He snorted. "Did the cube make you a psychiatrist as well as an Autobot?"
"I just want to know." Was it his imagination, or did Falcon sound hurt by the jab. "Han, we've flown and fought and smuggled together for years. You and me and Chewbacca. I may not have been self-aware for all that time, but we were still a team. I… I don't want that to change."
"Neither do I," he confessed, leaning back in his seat – though technically it was her seat now, he supposed. "I just… you're my ship. I never wanted anything to mess with my ship, whether it was Imperials or Jabba or pirates or some weird artifact being hauled around by sentient droids. And this… this is just…" He couldn't find the words. He wasn't the most sensitive guy in the galaxy, but even he realized that telling someone he preferred things when they weren't alive seemed very cruel to say.
"I understand," Falcon said quietly. "Things were easier for you when I wasn't a Cybertronian – when I wasn't alive."
"I never said that-"
"You didn't have to." She was silent a moment. "Once we're done taking our passengers to Alderaan, I'll talk with Optimus. Maybe… maybe there's a way to reverse this. To make me just your ship again."
"No!" Han shot upright at that. "No, we're not doing that!"
"I don't want to make life difficult for you."
"You're not," he insisted. "Look… this is all just really sudden, okay? Having my ship come to life on me wasn't exactly in my plans. But now that it's happened… we deal with it. Like we've dealt with everything else so far."
"It's not going to be easy," she warned him.
Han had to smirk at that. "Nothing ever is. But that's part of the fun, isn't it?"
Falcon chuckled again. "We're going to make a pretty good team, I think – oh! I think we're there! Alderaan system approaching, returning to sublight speeds."
Han nodded and reached for the controls… then pulled his hands back. "You got this handled, girl?"
"Han, I've been doing this for years," she informed him wryly. "I could do it in my sleep. If our kind sleeps. I'm still hazy on those details."
Hmm… maybe there were some benefits to having a living ship. One that could perform its own functions, including flying itself, would make certain jobs much easier, and opened up a slew of wild possibilities. Falcon had always been one of the most valuable members of their little team – now she was a member in full, and would prove even more valuable.
"I'll leave you to it," he chuckled. "Let me go tell the others we're almost there."
"No need," Obi-wan replied, stepping into the cockpit at that moment with Luke in tow. "We're there?"
"You've got some sharp ears, old man," Han noted. "Falcon's bringing us out of lightspeed as we speak." He pointed a stern finger at his two passengers. "Be nice to her, all right?"
"Who are you talking about… oh, right." Luke shook his head. "It's hard to believe this ship is alive, isn't it?"
"I'm sure it's something Han has had to come to terms with himself," Obi-wan replied. "But he seems to have adjusted well."
Chewie rumbled and patted the bulkhead before settling into the co-pilot's seat. The Wookie seemed to have accepted Falcon's newfound sentience far more readily than Han. Well, better late than never, Han figured.
"Coming out of lightspeed now," Falcon announced. "Planet in view… wait, no, this is wrong… ow! Ow, what the… ow!"
Han's gut clenched, and he felt a wild urge to hunt down whoever was hurting Falcon and pump them full of laser fire. "Dammit! What's wrong, Falcon?"
"Something hit me!"
"Run your scanners and find out who so we can blow them to dust!" Somehow, in the space of a few minutes, he'd gone from hating the fact that his ship had been so radically altered to becoming almost paternally protective of her. He just hoped Chewie didn't choose to rub that in his face later.
"No, it was solid," she replied. "Not blaster fire… this can't be right! We're in the middle of an asteroid field! Yet these are the right coordinates…"
Falcon was perfectly correct – the ship was surrounded by chunks of flying debris, not the jagged shrapnel of a firefight gone bad but the rubble of spacefaring stone. They had arrived at the Alderaan system, all right… but the planet was gone. And the fact that so much rock was littering the system meant only one thing – that some cataclysmic force had destroyed it. The idea that something could have that much power boggled his mind.
"It's gone," he snapped. "The whole planet is gone!"
"How can it be gone?!" Luke demanded. "How do you lose an entire planet?"
"Destroyed," Obi-wan said gravely. "By the Empire."
"That's impossible," Han retorted. "That'd take the entire fleet, with more power than I've ever-"
A sharp cry from Falcon cut him off, and he glanced up to see a small gray moon hanging before them. Strange… last time he'd been to Alderaan, it hadn't had a moon…
"I thought Alderaan didn't have a moon," Falcon noted, echoing Han's thought.
"That's no moon," Obi-wan replied. "That's a space station."
"It's too big to be a space station!" Han insisted. Yet the closer they got to the gray orb, the less sure he was of his own statement. The single crater marring its surface was too perfectly round, the dark band around its center too straight and too perfectly centered around its equator, the canyons and mountains far too regular…
Screw this, he decided. We're getting out of here. No reward is worth this. Besides, it was kind of hard to drop his passengers off on Alderaan when there wasn't an Alderaan to drop them off on.
"Falcon, get us out of here."
"Yes, Han." She seemed all too happy to comply… but she shuddered from side to side, engines whining with strain.
"C'mon, baby, don't fail me now," Han urged, hands on the console. "Get us back to lightspeed!"
"I can't!"
"Why are we still moving toward it?!" Luke shrieked.
"Stop yelling at my ship!" Han retorted.
"I'm not yelling at your ship!"
"Well then, stop yelling at the captain!"
"Will ALL of you please stop yelling?" Falcon urged. "I'm doing the best I can!"
"Don't strain yourself, Falcon," Obi-wan told her. "This isn't your fault. This can only mean one thing – that space station has us caught in a tractor beam."
"A what?" Falcon's deep, powerful voice somehow became almost adorable when she was confused. "I don't think we've ever faced a tractor beam before, Han."
"No… we haven't. But they're not good news. It means we're being pulled into that station and there's nothing we can do about it."
Four pairs of eyes and Falcon's sensors remained on the massive superweapon as it loomed ever closer, like the baleful eye of a predator. Slowly, inexorably, Falcon and her passengers were drawn into the jaws of doom by invisible claws.