Tyranny Reborn
A/N: Since I'm not going to be online hardly at all for the next week or so, I'm uploading this chapter now. Due to the increased whackiness at school, chapter 12 will likely be delayed, though I'll try to work on it when I can find the time...
Replies at the bottom.
Chapter 11
HE couldn't shake the bad feeling he had about this plan.
Standing before the tiny viewport at the front of the ship carrying them to their destination, Luke Skywalker stared at the swirling hyperspace vortex and struggled to center himself. Muted conversations from the team crammed in the tiny cargo hold mixed with the subtle hum of the starship's engines, resulting in a soft, unintelligible buzz that filled the hold, ebbing and flowing like waves. Tensions were high, and Luke knew he wasn't helping with his barely concealed anxiety.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mara fidget slightly and fought the urge to glance at her, knowing he wouldn't be able to look away if he did. The outfit she was wearing – skintight black, with high boots, a weapons belt, knee pads, protective pauldrons, and light midriff armor – was more distracting than it had any right to be and Luke struggled to keep his mind on the mission in front of them. Despite his best efforts, though, he found himself watching Mara's reflection in the viewport as she holstered the pistol on her right hip and checked the power cell of her newly constructed lightsaber for the sixth time in the last ten minutes. The expression on her face was calm but vigilant – the façade of a well-trained soldier going into battle – and Luke realized he was seeing a hint of how she must have looked when she undertook missions for Palpatine. She clearly knew there existed the possibility of death but was so focused on the task before her that she simply had no time to waste with fear. All that mattered was the mission.
It was easily the most erotic thing he had ever seen.
Blinking the errant thought away, Luke closed his eyes and focused on calming his frayed nerves. He shifted his stance a little, fighting back a grimace at the uncomfortable feel of the clothes he was wearing. It had been Mara's idea for him to don the black-on-black robes worn by the clones in the hopes that the non-clones aboard the facility wouldn't look past the robes, but Luke couldn't shake his discomfort. He hated how similar the arms and leggings were to those worn by his father.
Once more, he made a silent vow to never again wear black when they got out of this.
"You're sure about this data?" Kyle Katarn was asking from where he stood before Talon, a hand-portable holo-transmitter in his hand. Luke glanced in their direction, smiling tightly at the lightsaber hanging from Kyle's belt alongside several grenades and additional weapons. When contacted, Katarn hadn't hesitated to volunteer his strike team for this operation, knowing from firsthand experience the danger of rogue Dark Siders, and Luke realized he couldn't think of a better man to have at his back.
"Absolutely sure," Karrde replied, leaning back against the bulkhead and crossing his arms as he did. He had insisted on joining them, claiming it was entirely due to his desire to see this through to the end because he didn't like to do things halfway. Mara had laughed in her old boss' face at the less than adequate explanation, but Luke hadn't argued the point. "I'm quite good at what I do, Colonel," Talon added calmly, smiling as he spoke, "so trust me when I tell you this data is the most up to date possible." In response, Katarn grunted.
"I don't like this," Mara abruptly murmured. Somehow, she had crept closer without him noticing and Luke jumped slightly at her unexpected words before shooting her a disgruntled look. She didn't seem to notice as she faced the viewport, her eyes locking on the swirling hyperspace tunnel. "If they know we're coming," she whispered, her voice pitched only for Luke's ears, "this entire mission could be over really fast."
"I know," Luke admitted softly. Hijacking an automated supply ship carrying parts to the cloning facility had been Corran's idea and, at the time, had seemed like the only way to get aboard the station over Korriban without detection. Little more than a cargo bay with an engine, it was perfect for concealing a team of commandos on a stealth approach. Now, however, Luke was starting to second-guess the plan, especially at the sense of déjà vu beginning to creep into his thoughts. "You didn't have a better idea," he remarked, earning himself a scornful glance from the redhead.
"Doesn't mean there wasn't a better idea," she pointed out crossly. Glancing at her wrist chronometer – and once again, Luke's mind jumped to the question he'd been wondering since Dagobah: how was it a weapon? – she exhaled deeply and turned toward the ship's computer.
"Everyone knows their jobs," Katarn said loudly, looking over his waiting commandos with a stern glint in his eye. "So stay alert."
"Stay alive," the commandos replied as one in what was clearly a rote answer. Kyle grinned.
"Horn," he said and Corran looked up from where he sat next to a dozing Lando. "Stick with Calrissian and Karrde." The colonel gave a sidelong glance toward Shada. "That way," he finished, "D'ukal can keep all three of you safe."
"One minute," Mara announced, and Luke winced at the sudden flash of eagerness, fear, and worry that pulsed through the Force from the assembled team. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and concentrated on opening himself to the will of the living energy field surrounding him. Tension flowed out of his body and peace settled upon him.
He was ready.
The hyperspace vortex fell away, revealing a twinkling blanket of stars. Hundreds of thousands of kilometers away, the space station hung suspended against the dark backdrop, slowly revolving in place. It instantly reminded Luke of a sword, with a long hull that tapered to a narrow point seemingly aimed at the pale planet below. Slender arms climbed from the surface of the structure, designed to capture docking ships. To Luke's eyes, the station seemed to dance with light as psychic signatures – far more than he had expected – burned brightly within the Force.
More damning, however, were the sheer number of Imperial warships cruising the system. At a glance, Luke counted over fifty capital ships; in tight patrol clusters, hundreds of TIEs raced through the void and one such trio banked hard toward them. Karrde's data had called for a maximum of two star destroyers present.
"That can't be good," Shada said almost at once.
"There's an Executor out there," Mara declared grimly. She looked up from the sensor feed. "And we're already being scanned."
"It's Torul," Luke murmured, his eyes locked on the star dreadnought. "He's here."
"Whatever you're going to do," Mara said, directing her comments entirely to Luke, "do it fast."
"They need to be faster."
The comment seemed to come out of nowhere, interrupting Han Solo's train of thought, and the Corellian glanced up from the dataslate he was studying in mild surprise. He barely managed to bite back the retort already forming in his throat as he gave the speaking officer a sour look. Leia had worked too hard to arrange this joint operation for him to screw it up with a loose tongue.
"Excuse me?" he asked calmly, eyeing the Imperial captain standing beside him. They were standing before the main viewports of the Independence's bridge, barely a meter from the command walkway. The captain – Julias Kratas – was a rail-thin man of indeterminate age but with a shock of copper hair so bright, it instantly brought to mind Threepio. Combined with the Imp's precise, almost prissy manner of speech, the comparison inevitably caused Han to smirk.
Now was no different.
"Your command crew," Kratas said coolly. He was watching Adrimetrum's team go about their duties with disdain glittering in his eyes. "They are far too lackadaisical in the performance of their duties."
"Is that a fact?" Han drawled, all the while wishing Nat had sent someone else – anyone else – to act as her liaison. In the two days Kratas had been aboard Independence, he had offended every single sentient he'd interacted with. On at least two occasions, the man had come close to getting his arms ripped out of their sockets – once by Chewie and once by a Barabel marine named 'Ulak. Solo couldn't help but to wonder if Kratas' inability to keep his damned mouth shut was the reason Daala had dropped him into Han's lap. Maybe she was hoping somebody aboard the Indy would mortally wound this numbskull.
Unconsciously, Han's eyes drifted back to the starfield beyond the viewport and his stomach clenched at the sight before him. Thirty capital ships cruised through the silent void around the Independence, all awaiting his command for action. Discomfort swirled within his stomach and Solo exhaled bitterly.
This was all Luke's fault.
His brother-in-law's urgent request for assistance had come at exactly the right moment; the drawn out negotiations between Leia and the Imperial moff had hit an impasse, but Luke's revelation – and the accompanying data proving it – that Pellaeon was likely being controlled by a Force user had been seized upon by Tavira as an opportunity to do something. Before Han knew what was happening, half of Nat's fleet had been seconded to his and he was put in command of a joint expeditionary force with enough destructive power to destroy a small planet.
Now, all they had to do was wait here just out of sensor range for Luke's signal so they could sweep in, scare off the Imps defending the clone site, and then blow the blasted thing to scraps. In theory, it was a simply plan.
In theory.
"Admiral," a calm, feminine voice cut into his musing and Han quickly turned to face Captain Adrimetrum. She was staring coldly at Kratas, as if daring him to open his mouth, but responded to Solo's look without hesitation. "We're receiving a transmission from Commander Skywalker," she said, using the rank Luke had given up years ago.
"He's ahead of schedule," Kratas remarked, a hint of grudging respect creeping into the man's voice. Han didn't bother responding, though the hairs on the back of his neck started tingling. Here comes the hammer, he reflected darkly as he followed Adrimetrum to the hologram pod at the back of the bridge. A half-sized holographic image of Luke flickered before him, freezing and stuttering at random moments though the audio seemed fine.
"We've got a problem," Skywalker said in greeting. "There's a lot more ships here than we expected."
"Define 'a lot,'" Han replied.
"We count upwards of fifty capital ships," came the grim answer, "including an Executor and fifteen ImpStarDeuces." Behind him, Kratas breathed a foul curse and Han barely kept from agreeing with him. "There's more," Luke continued. "Flint is here."
"Damn," Solo muttered. This was starting to look like Endor all over.
"We may need to scrub this mission," Luke said bleakly and Solo frowned. From what Han knew of their insertion plan, aborting the operation would leave the entire infiltration team to the mercies of the Imperials already in-system. It would mean abandoning the man he loved like a brother to a fate worse than death.
Not a chance in hell.
"Get the commodore on the line," he ordered more harshly than he intended. "Can you send realtime telemetry from that tub?" he asked of Luke. The tiny image of his brother-in-law frowned and glanced to his left.
"Mara?" the Jedi asked. The image froze for a single, extended moment. "Transmitting now," Luke announced.
"Hold on, kid," Han said. "Cavalry's coming." He shifted his attention to the full-sized image of Commodore Daala now standing in the holopod. "You get all that?"
"I did," she replied calmly. "What are you planning?" she asked cautiously.
"Something stupid," Han replied with a grin. He sobered instantly. "But I need your people, Nat. We're only going to get one shot at this."
"Agreed." Daala was silent for a moment before nodding. "What are your orders, Admiral?" she asked with only the barest hint of a smile on her face.
"Battle stations," Solo said loudly, directing his comments to both Adrimetrum and Daala. "Stand by to execute a Thrawn Surprise." Daala laughed lightly before her hologram winked out, and Adrimetrum smiled in dark approval. A moment later, klaxons began sounding throughout Independence and Han drew a deep breath. Here we go.
He hoped this wasn't a mistake.
She wondered if this was a mistake.
Standing before the mirror, Leia Organa-Solo studied her reflection with a critical eye while a nest of gundarks played smashball within her stomach. She had lost track of how long she had stood there, though she supposed it was at least an hour. In that time, she'd been peripherally aware of Cakhmaim's occasional glances into the dressing room, as well as his random security sweeps throughout the apartments, and even C-3PO's almost constant murmurs of worry, but none of those interruptions had done so much as momentarily distract her from the important task at hand.
She was trying to recognize the woman before her.
Hesitantly, Leia wet her lips before adjusting the heavy gown she was wearing, all the while wondering when she'd acquired the fine network of worry lines upon her face. It was one of her more extravagant dresses, with a high collar, flared smokesilk arms, and a dark grey bodice inset with sparkling silver, but did little to hide the exhaustion in her eyes or the fact she was turning old before her time. At least there aren't any gray hairs yet, she reflected sourly.
A subtle rasp of fabric upon skin warned her of Winter's silent approach, and Leia shifted her attention away from her own face to the new reflection appearing in the mirror. Her friend was wearing a similar dress, though far less ornate in design, and was bearing a heavy, hooded cloak of deepest maroon.
"Any word?" Leia asked without fanfare, and the silver-haired woman shook her head slightly.
"No, Your Highness," she answered as she began settling the cloak over Leia's shoulders. It was cut in an old Nubian way decades out of style but matched the Alderaani dress quite well; more importantly, the deep hood would allow Leia to conceal her identity until the moment was right. One of the first rules of combat, whether in diplomacy or in less bloody arenas like hand-to-hand combat, was to strike when the opponent was least expecting it.
And Fey'lya certainly would not be expecting this…
"I'm sure they'll be fine," Winter continued, speaking of both of their families currently engaged in the latest bout of inspired insanity. Leia blew out her breath, vaguely wondering whether they had all gone mad. After spending days and days trying to convince Moff Tavira to not throw away ships and sentients in a senseless gesture of aggression, all it had taken for Leia to do that very thing was Luke's simple 'I need your help.'
"Are we doing the right thing, Winter?" Leia abruptly asked, meeting her friend's eyes in the mirror's reflection.
"Fey'lya is dangerous to the Republic, Your Highness," the silver-haired woman replied smoothly as she finished adjusting the heavy cloak. Leia frowned – that was no answer.
"But are we doing the right thing?" she repeated. To her surprise, Winter sighed.
"I cannot answer that, Your Highness," the other woman said softly. "This must be done," Winter continued, "and I cannot say I do not look forward to seeing Fey'lya receive his due." She frowned tightly. "But as to whether this is the right thing to do? I cannot say."
"There is no other way," Leia said sadly. Ever since returning to Coruscant, she had tried to get a one-on-one meeting with the Bothan chancellor in an attempt to avoid a public showdown like this, but, at every stage, he had blocked her. Still, a part of her was looking forward to facing him across the Senate one last time.
"It is a pity," Cakhmaim growled with a toothy smile from where he lounged near the doorway, "that you will not allow me to simply kill him. It would be quicker and less bloody."
"Oh, my!" Threepio exclaimed in response.
"I could even arrange for it to look like an accident," the Noghri continued, smiling maliciously at how flustered his words were making the protocol droid. Winter – whose sense of humor had always been morbid even when she and Leia were growing up on Alderaan – laughed lightly.
"Perhaps he'd drown in the sonic shower?" she joked. "Or choke to death on his morning oxygen?"
"Something like that," Cakhmaim said with a gleeful nod. For the briefest of moments, Leia let herself envision a universe without Borsk Fey'lya, a galaxy free of his backstabbing politics and self-serving actions.
It was a surprisingly pleasant dream.
"Mistress Leia," C-3PO quickly urged, his words breaking into her momentary daydream, "please don't listen to them! I'm sure we can come up with a perfectly reasonable alternative to homicide!"
"They're joking, Threepio," Leia pointed out with a mild smile of her own. She vaguely wondered when she'd become so hardened, so callous to find amusement, no matter how minor, in the idea of a fellow sentient being murdered. Alderaan, she decided after a moment. That was when her innocence died alongside her parents and nearly everyone she had grown up with.
"Is everything in place?" she asked as she carefully adjusted the holo-torc at her throat. It was currently deactivated, but would be essential to get her into place for this coming deception.
"It is, Your Highness," Winter answered. If she disapproved of the plan, there was no hint of it in her voice or face. Leia glanced in Cakhmaim's direction.
"We too are ready," he said grimly. "I have coordinated our deployment with Captain Quin," he continued, all traces of humor wiped away. "No one will move against you, Lady Solo."
"Good." Leia frowned and studied her appearance once more. She nodded.
"I'm ready."
She was ready to get off this tub.
Seated before the rudimentary computer system of the automated loader, Mara fought the urge to fidget as another flight of TIE Interceptors buzzed them. The sensor baffles Calrissian had acquired from Force knew where hummed loudly as they beamed false signals to the Interceptors, and, once again, the TIEs continued on their way, leaving the slow-moving supply craft to continue its lethargic plod toward the space station. As she had the six times previously, Mara exhaled in soft relief.
Luke shifted in place, and the movement instantly drew Mara's attention. She successfully fought back a frown at his appearance and quickly returned her eyes to the computer system, still wondering why seeing him in the black robes was so disconcerting. It had been her idea, after all, and even now was pretty sound thinking, but with each second that passed, it seemed less and less like a good idea. She blamed it on the sleeves of the robes and the leggings – they were far too Vadery for her tastes.
Satisfied the autopilot wasn't going to suddenly alter their course unexpectedly, Mara gave the cramped cargo bay a quick glance. Khabarakh and his team were seated just behind her, playing an unbelievably complicated-looking version of four-person dejarik on a small, portable board that she didn't even bother trying to figure out. Most of the commandos were wearing bored expressions and more than a few were dozing, sure signs that they were veterans. To her surprise, Calrissian – dressed in surprisingly sensible-looking field fatigues – was asleep as well. Talon and Shada were sitting next to one another before the aft bulkhead, speaking in hushed, almost intimate tones. Mara swallowed her grin and silently vowed to harass Shada about it later.
Her eyes narrowed at the sight of Corran Horn and she nearly frowned at the sight of him absently fiddling with his lightsaber. It was, as far as she could tell, the same one she'd seen him wielding in the vision she'd had on Coruscant nearly a year earlier. As if sensing her eyes upon him, he glanced up. Green eyes met green eyes, and Mara looked away, aware of his brief appraisal of her in return.
"You're thinking too hard," Luke said with a slight smile as he gave her a sidelong glance and a wink. She suddenly felt self-conscious, though she had no idea why. It was all Skywalker's fault. Those looks he had been giving her since she tracked down her old battle harness were really disconcerting.
Or so she told herself.
Before she could respond, the sensor board pinged, announcing a new contact. Instantly, the tension inside the cramped loader skyrocketed and Mara hit a button on the panel before her. The small holo-transceiver they'd brought aboard so Skywalker could contact Solo sputtered to life and a holographic image materialized in the middle of the cargo bay.
It was an Interdictor.
"Gear up," Katarn ordered his troopers, though they were already doing so. A second later, more pings began sounding from the sensor board as the newly activated gravity well generator on the Interdictor ripped Solo's fleet out of hyperspace. Streams of superheated light flashed from the newly arrived warships, slamming into the hulls of a pair of defending warships with crippling force. Starfighters – A-Wings, B-Wings, TIEs, and X-Wings – streaked into the engagement zone and it came alive with explosions.
An alert chime sounded on Mara's board, warning her that the station's computer was trying to override the loader's slave circuits and alter their heading, but she input a rapid command that killed the ship's receive capability. To the people on the station, it would look like the loader had suffered a malfunction, always a danger on decrepit pieces of junk like this.
"Two minutes," she announced as she keyed in another instruction, simulating the loader's antiquated droid brain recognizing danger and accelerating to safety. Around her, everyone began bracing themselves and Mara looked in Skywalker's direction only to find him watching her. He smiled and she couldn't help but to smile back.
"I hate this," Karrde's voice echoed around them.
"It's my favorite part," Colonel Katarn revealed, a grim smile on his face. It faded quickly. "Somebody wake up Calrissian," he ordered with a sigh. "He's going to miss our grand entrance."
"As long as I'm here for the grand exit," Lando retorted, not moving from where he was reclining against the bulkhead, "I don't mind missing it." He grinned. "All this shooting is bad for the health." Laughter answered the comment, but Mara recognized it as the release of tension, nothing more.
"One minute," she said loudly.
Barely a minute had passed since their arrival, and Wedge Antilles had already killed six Imperials.
The engines of his X-Wing howled as he pushed the craft to its limits and beyond, but Wedge was so completely focused on destroying the target before him – a TIE Interceptor – that he barely noticed. His targeting computer flashed, indicating a solid lock, and he depressed the firing stud on his flight stick. A lance of fire speared the TIE, burning into its engines and causing a massive explosion that atomized the pilot. Wedge sent his X-Wing spiraling through the expanding cloud of gas and debris, his eyes already scanning the sensor display for another target.
THAT'S SEVEN, Whistler informed him calmly. Corran's green astromech was proving to be a more than adequate replacement for Gate, but Wedge still wasn't sure how he'd been talked into agreeing to take the droid into battle. It had probably been Mirax's idea, though Wedge was touched Horn was so willing to let the astromech go for a mission this dangerous.
"You've got one on your tail," his wingman suddenly declared and Wedge snap-rolled the X-Wing instinctively, pulling back hard on the flight stick as he kicked in the acceleration. The inertial compensator struggled with the sudden maneuver and g-forces pushed Antilles back into his seat. Emerald lasers flashed by his canopy as the TIE stuck to his six.
"Come on, Fel," Wedge growled as he banked the X-Wing hard, rolling into a hard evasive turn that carried him closer to one of the Republic's star destroyers. A heartbeat later, another X-Wing settled in behind the pursuing TIE and, with a single burst of fire from its quadlasers, reduced the eyeball to so much scrap. "You sure took your time," Antilles snapped as his brother-in-law fell into formation behind him.
"Just making sure you were awake," Soontir Fel replied calmly. There was a harsh edge to his words Antilles had become accustomed to in the almost five months they'd been sharing a cell.
Engines screaming, a flight of TIE Interceptors roared by them, weapons barking, and Wedge barely managed to keep from opening fire on them as he inverted his X-Wing and slid into a pursuit course. The flashing green targeting reticle stubbornly reminded him that these Imps were the good Imps, part of Commodore Daala's battle group and on his side. I wonder how many of them would like to accidentally vape Rogue Leader, he mused darkly as he identified another target: a cluster of Interceptors trying to conduct an attack run on the Jansons.
"Form up," Wedge ordered as he rolled the X-Wing and dove toward where Inyri and Wes were dueling with three times their number of squints. "Whistler, I need more power."
THERE IS NO MORE POWER FOR ME TO GIVE YOU, the droid remarked as Wedge squeezed the trigger once more. Lasers flashed out, slicing into the port solar array of one of the TIE Interceptors. Suddenly unbalanced, the squint wobbled awkwardly and was unable to even try to dodge Wedge's second shot. The Imp vanished in a ball of flame. THAT'S EIGHT, Whistler announced. ARE YOU GUNNING FOR A NEW RECORD?
"All Rogues, this is Lead," Wedge said into his com-line. "Form up on me. Let's take the fight to their base ships."
"Great idea, Boss," Hobbie's voice answered. "Can I pick which ship to shoot this time?"
"Cut the chatter," Tycho ordered sharply. "They're concentrating all fire on Independence," he said, and Wedge quickly glanced in the direction of Solo's command ship. He grimaced at the number of hostile Imps maneuvering to engage the Executor-class.
"Let's go say hi," Wedge decided.
His decision to tag along was looking to be a really dumb idea.
Braced against the bulkhead, Talon Karrde watched the station's docking airlock grow closer as the automated loader neared it. At the same time, he kept an eye on the flickering hologram in the center of the cargo bay currently displaying the lightfight going on in the hard vacuum around them. The small transceiver was struggling to keep up with the number of ships involved and, a few seconds before they reached the station, the images abruptly froze and vanished.
"Hold on!" Mara shouted from where she was crouched before the computer system a mere heartbeat before the loader slammed into the docking port with a hollow clang. A metallic grinding noise echoed through the cargo bay as the ship made a hard seal, but a second thump was more worrying.
"Mara?" Skywalker asked. He was standing in front of the cargo airlock, his lightsaber in hand but not yet activated. The hood of the black robes he was wearing was pulled up over his head, lending him an almost sinister appearance.
"I've been locked out," Jade announced fiercely. She slapped the computer console with her hand before snarling an angry curse in Huttese. "They've manually sealed the airlock on their end," she said as she hit the computer again. "I can't open the kriffing thing from here."
"It's a good bet they know we're here," Colonel Katarn stated calmly as he hefted an impressive-looking repeating blaster rifle. Luke nodded.
"Agreed." He frowned before exhaling deeply and pushing the hood back from his head. There was no hint of worry on his face. "Mara, Kyle," he said, never looking away from the airlock, "I need your help."
Without replying, the two stepped forward and joined Skywalker before the airlock. As one, the trio raced their left hands and closed their eyes. Seconds later, Talon could hear the squeal of protesting metal as the airlock hatch began to crumple. His breath caught.
"Stang," one of the commandos murmured softly as the heavy duranium metal began to collapse before some unseen pressure. Karrde exchanged a quick look with Shada before glancing in Horn's direction. The short Corellian shrugged at the unspoken question.
"I suck at telekinesis," he admitted. His eyes narrowed and he glanced in the direction of the hatch. "We've got a greeting party!" he snapped, and his words jolted the commandos into action. They surged forward to take up defensive positions before and around the three Force users.
With a loud boom, the airlock hatch fell inward, now warped and distorted beyond any hope of salvage. Even before it struck the deck, the air came alive with blaster fire as waiting stormtroopers sprang into view and the commandos opened up with their own weapons. Luke was moving almost at once, his emerald lightsaber igniting with a snap-hiss, and Mara was a half-step behind him, her own violet blade springing into existence. Together, they advanced toward the defending stormtroopers, their blades living walls of light that caught and reflected blaster fire with frightening accuracy. Two stormtroopers fell at once, victims of their own blaster fire, followed by a third and fourth as Katarn's commandos began an assault of their own.
"Move!" Katarn bellowed as he stepped into the breach, the heavy repeater he was carrying carving a gruesome swatch across the stormtrooper ranks. Three toppled at once, their armor smoking, and the unexpected ferocity of the attack sent the remainder of the Imps scrambling in retreat. Luke and Mara pursued, their sabers humming as they disappeared out of Talon's line of sight.
"What the hell was I thinking?" Karrde muttered as he clung to his blaster rifle and followed the last of the commandos onto the station. Beside him, similarly armed, Lando gave him a knowing grin.
"Welcome to the club," Calrissian said. "I say the same thing every time Luke ropes me into one of his crazy adventures." He shrugged. "You get used to it."
Smoke was curling up to the ceiling as they stepped into the corridor, and alarms were howling. The commandos had already split into multiple teams and were vanishing around the corners of the corridors. Shada blew out a frustrated breath.
"We're falling behind," she said before gesturing in the direction Luke and Mara had gone. "That way," Shada declared before striding forward, her own exotic-looking blaster rifle held at the ready. Horn was already moving to join her, pausing long enough to salvage some spare blaster packs from fallen stormtroopers, and Talon glumly fell into step behind her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Calrissian pull the helmet from one of the dead Imps and begin extracting the integrated comlink within. Lando shrugged at Karrde's glance and casually replaced the helmet on the corpse's head once he had the comm. free.
"Just in case," Calrissian said with a smile before securing the trooper's link to his own headset.
"Good thinking," Talon remarked as they picked up their pace to rejoin an annoyed-looking Shada. She was standing before a closed blast door and waited until they drew closer before depressing the activation button.
The door slid open with a rumble.
A soft rumble of conversation filled the Senate chamber, and Leia Organa-Solo shifted awkwardly in her seat.
Discomfort trickled through her legs as she sat at the back of Viqi Shesh's pod, but Leia concentrated on maintaining an image of stillness. To anyone observing her, she had to appear as nothing more than one of the Kuati woman's handmaidens. With the deep hood of her cloak pulled forward, Leia knew her face was concealed from sight.
"I thank the chancellor for this opportunity," Shesh was saying, her voice ringing loudly, "and wish my reasons for speaking were other than they are." The Force pulsed around her and Leia momentarily marveled at the finesse being shown by the Kuati woman. It was a subtle application, one Leia hadn't considered before, and one that served to draw all eyes to the speaker. There was no attempt to sway the minds of the senators present, only to pressure them to actually listen to her words.
"Promises were made to Kuat when we joined this august body," Viqi continued coolly. "The Republic was held aloft as a beacon of stability and honor, truth and law." Shesh paused as she discreetly maneuvered the pod closer to the chancellor's seat; it was a subtle reminder to all present that she had allied herself with Borsk Fey'lya.
Which was exactly the reason she had volunteered to begin the assault on the chancellor.
"But I have discovered this to be false," the Kuati woman declared, her voice hardening. "The Republic is not what it was claimed to be," she said with a fierce gesture. "There is no interest in the common good," Shesh stated, her words causing yet another rumble of discontent from amongst the senators listening, "and there is corruption in even the most unlikeliest of places."
Under her hood, Leia smiled tightly as she sensed nearly every senator glance in the direction of her empty pod. The antipathy between her and Fey'lya's faction – as defined by Shesh herself – was common knowledge and there was no doubt most of the senators believed the Kuati woman was speaking of the noticeably absent delegate of Coruscant. A sense of triumph seemed to roll off Fey'lya through the Force.
"But I am not the one who has uncovered this corruption, this treachery." Shesh's comment caused another ripple of muted conversation, and Fey'lya's victorious smile faltered. "There is another who has brought this to my attention and who must be allowed to speak." She gestured to the back of the pod and, at this cue, Leia slowly rose to her feet. "To that end," Shesh announced, "I exercise my right to turn over the bulk of my time to the sentient with knowledge of this corruption."
Hiding her smile, Leia stepped forward and took the Kuati woman's place before the controls of the pod as Shesh smoothly stepped aside. A flash of alarm crossed Borsk's face – this obviously wasn't part of the plan – but Leia pressed on before he could speak.
"Senators of the Republic," she said calmly, her voice booming from the pod's built-in enhancement system, "I come to you under the gravest of circumstances." With both hands, she reached up and pushed the hood back, revealing her face.
An audible gasp ran through the Senate and Leia looked directly into Fey'lya's eyes.
His eyes burned as sweat trickled down his face, but Wedge Antilles ignored it.
Whistler was shrieking warnings as Antilles sent his X-Wing into a tight, spiraling dive, and the space around them was alive with turbolaser fire. The TIE Interceptor he was pursuing banked hard in a desperate attempt to shake him, but Wedge grit his teeth and followed the Imp into another stomach-lurch maneuver that carried them both even closer to the two star destroyers pounding away at one another. His targeting computer flashed once and Antilles fired without hesitation, the crimson lasers carving a lethal scar across the squint's engine housing. It didn't immediately destroy the TIE but the sudden failure of all maneuvering systems was still catastrophic; without even slowing, the squint plowed into the hull of the destroyer and vanished in a fierce explosion.
"I'm hit!" someone shrieked over the commline in the second before static announced that pilot's demise. Wedge cursed darkly as he rolled his X-Wing into a looping climb to carry him out of the killing zone between the two destroyers. He glanced quickly at his targeting computer.
Beyond his canopy, the fleet action had degenerated into mass chaos. The Independence, surrounded by the hulls of broken corvettes, was unleashing a withering barrage against the defending Imperial battle group even as it absorbed massive amounts of damage. Explosions wreathed the immense ship, and Wedge had to wonder how much more damage it could take.
By way of contrast, the Allegiance continued to lurk on the periphery of the engagement, protected by a wall of Imperator-class star destroyers and Carrack-class cruisers.
"Break right!" Fel's voice ordered sharply, and Wedge obeyed without hesitation. Lasers flashed through the space he'd just vacated as a TIE Defender dropped into a pursuit course, its guns barking. Antilles cursed darkly as he went purely evasive. Even as the Defender pursued, it suddenly became the hunted as Soontir Fel, once acclaimed as the greatest Imperial pilot to have lived, slid behind it and opened fire. Rocking under the unexpected assault, the Defender broke off from chasing Wedge which gave Antilles the perfect opportunity to bank hard and counter-attack.
"This is the best they have now?" Fel murmured contemptuously, his voice carrying across the commline as he and Wedge began to systematically rip apart the TIE Defender. It shuddered under their concentrated fire and Antilles could almost imagine the pilot's growing desperation as his shields were battered into nonexistence. A streak of cerulean light flashed by Wedge's cockpit as Gavin Darklighter joined the fray; the proton torpedo slammed into the Defender's hull and vaporized the fighter almost instantly.
"Good shot, Six!" Wedge said. He glanced in the direction of the space station. "Come on Luke," he muttered under his breath. "Hurry up…"
"Can you hurry up?"
The question nearly caused Luke Skywalker to smile as he batted away another blaster shot, reflecting it into the shooter with almost casual ease. He gave Mara a sidelong glance, fighting back the surge of pride at how well she was handling her saber. She'd been skilled with it before, but now? Now she moved as if it were an extension of her body.
"I'm working as quickly as I can, Jedi Jade," Sakhisakh replied sourly to Mara's request. The Noghri was kneeling in an alcove before the exposed innards of a computer console, his specialized slicing gear already plugged into the system. A small hologram hovered over his left arm, displayed there from the wrist-comp he was wearing, and he consulted the image several times as he fought against the station's automatic defenses.
A flicker in the Force warned Luke of impending danger, and he threw himself forward without hesitation, easily covering the three meter distance with a single leap. Even as he landed, a pair of lightsaber-wielding clones rounded the corner before him and sprang to attack. Luke caught the first saber stroke with his own blade and parried it into the bulkhead beside them as he rolled away from the lethal thrust of the clone's companion. He let the momentum of the spin carry him away from the pair, knowing they would instinctively orient themselves toward him. They did.
And then, they died.
Her personal saber in her left hand and Anakin's in her right, Mara surged forward, spearing the two clones from behind with the twin blades. They toppled without a sound. She gave the two corpses at her feet a sour glance before shutting down the blue-white blade Luke had carried until Bespin and reattaching it to her belt.
"Nice job," Luke remarked as he glanced in the direction of the four Noghri. The three of them guarding Sakhisakh hadn't budged from their defensive positions and held their blaster rifles at the ready. Skywalker took a half step toward the quartet when the slicer suddenly cursed.
Less than a second later, a blast door slammed shut, cutting them off from Luke and Mara.
"We should have brought Ghent," Mara grumbled as she shook her head. Luke smirked as he stepped closer to the door to examine it. He frowned at how thick it was; even with the saber, it was going to take some time to get through it.
"Don't bother," Mara told him as she began slicing through the floor. "On a station like this," she added, "there's probably some blast shielding in the door."
"Aren't you a font of information?" Luke remarked with a smirk as he thumbed on his comlink. "Change of plans, Khabarakh," he said into it. "Mara and I are going through the floor. Plant your charges and get clear."
Mara stopped cutting before the hole was complete and pounded her boot against the mostly severed slab of deck plating. It bent under the force of the blow and she gave the deck below a quick look before dropping through it without a sound.
With a wry shake of his head, Luke followed, wondering how the battle was going for Han.
It wasn't going well.
"Gorgon is lost!" one of the comtechs shouted, and Han Solo cursed softly, his eyes instinctively searching out the named star destroyer. He winced at the damage it had absorbed in defense of the Indy – both sensor globes were gone and the entire midsection was ablaze with internal fires and explosions. The trio of defending star destroyers responsible for the ship's demise continued to pound away at the ravaged ship, despite the nearly constant stream of escape pods darting away from it.
Alarms continued to howl as Han stepped closer to the hologram of the engagement zone currently hovering above the command walkway. He grimaced at the state of affairs – on almost every front, they were losing and losing badly. Their battle formation had collapsed into chaos and Independence was reeling from heavy damage; shipwide system failures were rapidly robbing the Indy of its offensive capability. If it wasn't for the Rogues cutting a brutal swath through the Imperial starfighters, this entire engagement would have been long over. With Wedge leading his X-Wings in fierce sorties that inevitably resulted in more Imperial casualties, the defenders hadn't even tried to deploy their TIE Bombers yet.
And still, the Allegiance remained out of the fight.
One of the two Mon Calamari MC-80s lumbered into view, weapons blasting away at the three star destroyers in a vain attempt to protect the dying Gorgon. Its shields came alive under the resulting barrage of fire from the three destroyers as they switched targets. Even with the specialized Mon Cal field generators, Han doubted it would last very long if he didn't do something and fast.
"This isn't Pellaeon," Kratas abruptly declared. He was standing before the hologram, an intent expression on his face as he studied it. When Han looked at him, the Imperial captain gestured to the Allegiance. "Our command codes aren't working," he said grimly. "Whoever is on that ship is blocking our comm. transmissions, even the secret ones the commodore has."
Solo nodded in understanding. One of Nat's requirements for aiding him was to give the defending Imps a chance to switch sides or retreat from the engagement unhindered by broadcasting a message from Grand Moff Tavira regarding the illegal nature of their orders. Unfortunately, only a single star destroyer had done so and the loss of one destroyer certainly wasn't going to sway this battle.
Han gave the holo image of the Allegiance another look and frowned. That was the key, he realized. Unfortunately, they didn't have the firepower to destroy it in a stand-up fight.
"We need to take out that command ship," Kratas said, unexpectedly verbalizing Solo's thoughts.
"Captain Adrimetrum," Han said quickly. "Sound collision. I want all stations set to automatic and the crew to begin abandoning ship."
"Sir?" Both Adrimetrum and Kratas were looking at him with disbelief on their faces.
"Set a collision course for the Allegiance," Solo ordered. "Ramming speed."
The speed in which Fey'lya responded was stunning, even to Leia.
"You are out of order!" he snapped, his voice laced with a hint of fear. His hand slammed down on the override switch, effectively killing the Kuati pod's external microphones. The system had been installed months earlier ostensibly in an attempt to reduce the level of rancor and squabbling among the senators, though even then, Leia had argued it silenced dissent.
This time, however, she was ready. A trick she'd once seen Luke do to quiet an angry crowd flooded into her mind's eye, and she let the Force flow through and around her.
"I will not be silenced!" Leia shouted, and her Force-enhanced voice boomed through the Senate chamber, amplified beyond human norm. She could see a couple of the delegates – those with greatly enhanced senses of hearing – quickly cover their auditory organs, but her focus was principally on Fey'lya as he recoiled from the unexpected sally.
"Let her speak!" The voice of Senator Ackbar echoed loudly in the momentary silence following Leia's declaration, and his chant was taken up almost instantly by others: Corellia, Chandrilla, Elom, Hapes, Iridonia, Kashyyyk, Naboo, Ryloth, Sullust, Tapani. It went on for a long moment, gathering strength and numbers with each second that passed until the sound was so loud it shook the very walls of the Senate. Fey'lya spent several fruitless minutes trying to calm the din down but, with each attempt, the chant was taken up once more, this time louder than previously.
"We have him now," Viqi murmured from where she stood alongside Leia. His eyes alive with fury, Fey'lya collapsed in his seat and glared at them.
Leia tried not to smile.
Instead, she raised her right hand in an effort to end the booming chants. Instinctively, she drew the Force around her, copying the technique she'd observed Shesh use earlier. Slowly, the noise subsided.
"Thank you, my friends," she said calmly. Her voice echoed loudly, emphasizing the utter stillness of the Senate in that moment. "I come before you today with a heavy heart," she continued confidently, "because I am forced by circumstances to do a thing I do not want to do." She drew another breath and began laying out her case, knowing that it would destroy Fey'lya.
And still, she tried not to smile.
The smile on his face almost hid the terror pulsing through his body.
A storm of blaster bolts screamed by him as he crouched on the opposite side of the slowly descending blast door, and Lando Calrissian fought to keep from laughing maniacally as he emptied a second ammo pack in the direction of the approaching stormtroopers. His own rifle smoking from overuse, Corran Horn fumbled with a pulse grenade and sent it sliding across the deck toward the stormtroopers, while the tall, dark-haired beauty that Karrde had brought with him was struggling with the wires of the blast door.
Bellowing a heartfelt curse, Karrde darted from where he had been hiding on the opposite side of the blast door and sprinted toward where the three of them were crouched. In mid-step, he took a glancing blaster shot to the lower leg and his curse transformed into an inarticulate cry of pain. He dove forward, hitting the deck and sliding underneath the blast door while wildly firing his rifle in the general direction of the stormtroopers. Lando doubted the shots even came close to hitting anything important.
Karrde was barely past the lip of the blast door when it slammed shut with a thunderous boom, nearly taking off his foot in the process. He shot a glare at the dark-haired beauty – Shada, Lando thought was her name – before wincing at the smoke climbing up from his leg. It wasn't bad, but Calrissian knew from experience it would hurt like hell.
"The next time I even think about doing something like this," Karrde told the woman, "stun me and lock me in a closet."
"Is that an order?" she asked with a smile. Lando sighed at the worried glint in her eyes as she helped Talon to his feet and wondered why it seemed like all the best women were already spoken for. At least that leaves the bad ones for me, he thought with a wicked grin. Horn gave him a sidelong glance and Lando wondered if the pseudo-Jedi was peeking in his head.
"Do we have any idea where we are?" Horn asked as he threw his useless blaster rifle to the deck with disgust stamped on his face. He frowned as he pulled the lightsaber from his belt.
"Not really," Lando replied. He slammed another ammo pack into his rifle and consulted the wrist-comp he wore. "But Skywalker is that way," he remarked. At their startled looks, he grinned. "Olmahk put a tracer bug on Luke's belt," he admitted, "and I talked him into letting me know the frequency."
"Does Luke know the Noghri are tracking him?" Corran asked. Lando shook his head.
"No," he said, "but Mara does." He shrugged. "I think it may have been her idea in the first place."
"Don't even think about it," Karrde said at the look Shada gave him.
"Who says I haven't already put one on you?" she asked with another smile.
"Let's get moving," Horn said. "There are clones approaching."
There were a lot more clones than she'd been expecting.
Her lightsaber drawn but not ignited, Mara studied the massive chamber she'd just dropped in with slowly dawning horror. The Spaarti cylinders stretched on for as far as the eye could see, disappearing around the gentle curve of the bulkhead, and in each one, she could see a partially completed clone. There were even tubes crammed up against the viewport that encircled the entire deck. She spent a brief moment trying to count the number, but gave up almost before she started.
"Kriff," Skywalker muttered the moment he dropped through the hole in the ceiling. He frowned as he stepped closer to the nearest cylinder and studied at the face within. Before he could comment, a flicker in the Force drew both of their attention.
Lightsabers drawn, a quartet of clones – a Windu, an Unduli, and two Koths – approached in eerie silence. They surrounded a fifth figure, also clad in black but wearing armor and a death's head mask. He moved with easy grace and a sense of controlled power.
"Go," Mara instructed, even before Luke could say anything. He gave her a quick look and she smiled. "I can handle the clones," she said as she nodded toward the newcomer. "You go handle Darth Wannabe."
"Stay safe, Mara," Luke whispered as he turned to face the group, brushing her psyche with a tendril of the Force as he did. Her breath caught at the barely hidden emotions behind the touch, but she pushed the revelation away for future contemplation.
There were clones to kill.
They struck quickly, leaping over the Spaarti cylinders, but Mara was already springing forward to meet them headlong. She speared the Windu with her saber before he even landed, and let her momentum carry her into a quick roll that took her out of the immediate danger zone. The two Koths doggedly pursued, their blades howling as they made wild overhand swings that severed power cables maintaining the cylinder. Sparks exploded around them as Mara jumped up and back, somersaulting in mid-air and landing lightly atop a dormant cloning tube. The Unduli clone was there in an instant, once again trying to power through Mara's defenses with a Djem So style ill-suited for the clone's lithe frame. Recognizing an unexpected opportunity before her – Djem So was excellent for raw power but with a corresponding lack of mobility – Mara twisted off the Spaarti cylinder, lashing out with her humming blade as she did. The clone quickly jumped to avoid losing her feet at the ankle.
And in that instant, Mara sent her flying backwards into the bulkhead with a flick of her wrist.
Blades wailing an unholy song, the two Koth clones lunged into view, and Mara rapidly began to backpedal as she blocked each stroke. The air stank of ozone as the blades crackled, and she reached deeper into the Force to seek the shatterpoint of this engagement. The terrain was her enemy as much as the silent figures before her, and Mara let her senses expand.
And everything became clear.
He was startled at how clear everything had become.
Eyes calm, Luke Skywalker watched as the armored figure slowly approached and silently wondered if there was any way out of this that did not involving the man before him dying. The desire to monitor Mara's progress was distracting, but Luke pushed it away. One misstep, and he knew Torul would kill him.
"Hello, Flint," Luke said, allowing his senses to expand and hints of future events flickered across his mind's eye, warning him of possible threats. That step there was not sturdy. The lip of that Spaarti cylinder was cracked. Those cables could complicate his footing. He could sense the subtle shift of atmosphere around the man he'd thought to save from Darkness once long ago as the Force began to swirl. Already, Luke knew how Flint would attack, and how to counter the strike.
"I knew this day would come," the man he'd once known said coldly, and Skywalker narrowed his eyes at the raw emotions pulsing off the man before him: anger, desire, despair, fear, hatred, lust, madness. "I prayed for this day."
"What happened to you, Flint?" Luke asked. He almost instantly staggered back at the fury swelling from the would-be Sith.
"I am Darth Veng'yr!" the man snarled as he lunged forward, his scarlet blade hissing. Luke caught the stroke and knocked it away, backpedaling rapidly as he did so.
"Your name is Flint," Luke replied calmly as he deflected another lethal stroke from the would-be Sith. The rage rolling off the man before him battered at his mental shields, and Skywalker let the fury wash around him like a wave. He planted his feet and let the Force swell within him. Without conscious thought, he fell into the Soresu fighting style. Each of Flint's attacks he met easily, remaining in perfect balance as his blade shifted only as much as necessary. At no time did he offer a counter-strike, and instead focused entirely upon reaching the soul of the man he'd once known.
"Turn away from this path," he urged, redirecting Flint's attack into the bulkhead with a flick of his wrist. "You did so before," Luke reminded him, "you can do so again."
"I was a fool to listen to you!" the would-be Sith roared as he redoubled his furious onslaught. His blade became an almost solid wall of crimson light as he hammered away at Luke defenses. Around them, a whirlwind of wind erupted as Flint's madness became manifest. Debris and small objects screamed through the air toward them, spinning wildly as Luke nudged them away from his body.
"I can feel the conflict within you," Luke said calmly. He caught the man's overhand stroke upon his saber and directed it into the deck below them. Metal shrieked as the superheated blade burned through it, and Luke casually sidestepped away from the man's aggressive Force slam, deflecting it into one of the nearby Spaarti cylinders. The cloning tube crumpled under the assault. "Don't make me kill you, Flint," he implored.
Growling, the would-be Sith threw himself at Luke, his blade slamming into Skywalker's with crushing power. Luke gave ground, knowing the moment of opportunity had passed. Even now, he could sense no hint of sanity within Torul's mind, only an unreasoning hatred for Skywalker that could not be pierced with reason.
And, despising himself slightly, Luke gave himself over to the will of the Force.
The force of the impact knocked him to his knees.
Growling a curse, Han Solo scrambled back to his feet, hefting the unconscious form of Captain Kratas in a fireman's carry and resuming his rapid walk toward the launch bay. Around him, emergency alarms continued to shriek as Independence thundered toward Allegiance. Recognizing the danger, the Imperial command ship had tried to hyperjump to safety only to discover the Interdictor that had been used to rip Han's fleet out of lightspeed was still in-system.
Unable to maneuver fast enough to avoid the impending collision, Allegiance and her picket ships were unleashing every joule of destructive power they had to mitigate the damage, but Han knew it wouldn't be enough. The kinetic impact alone would likely shear the Allegiance in half and explosive decompression would do the rest of the job.
An explosion of sparks rained down upon them and the Indy shook once more under what had to be a particularly fierce salvo of fire. This time, Han was braced, and managed to stay on his feet. He staggered forward toward the open hatch leading to the launch bay.
And the Falcon.
Chewie was standing at the base of the freighter and darted forward the minute he caught sight of Han. The Wookiee didn't ask why Solo was carrying an unconscious Imperial captain – even an ass like Kratas – but instead simply snatched the man away from Han and started his quick, loping run back to the Falcon. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Solo followed.
The boarding ramp was already closing when Han reached it and he quickly ducked under the overhang to avoid smacking his head into it. A dozen frightened looking techs were crammed together in the main corridor, and Solo pushed his way through them to get to the cockpit. The engines were already growling as he dropped into the pilot's station.
"This was certainly one of your crazier ideas," Chewie remarked as Han slewed the nose of the Falcon around to face the magcon field. He hit the throttle without hesitation and the freighter sprang forward.
They screamed out of the docking bay and into a river of turbolaser fire. The Falcon rocked and shook as impact after impact slammed into their shields, but, to Han's surprise, the deflector screens held. He rolled the Falcon and aimed them toward one of the Imperial star destroyers flanking the Indy. The gunners on the ImpStarDeuce were so focused on trying to shatter the dying Executor-class they paid no attention to the YT-1300 racing away from the immense warship. Han glanced at his sensor scope and mentally calculated how long until the Indy hit its target.
"Hold on!" he shouted. A moment later, the Independence, trailing fire and debris, slammed into the hull of the Allegiance. Han drew in a sharp breath.
And the galaxy exploded around him.
The Senate exploded with noise.
Braced before the onslaught, Leia Organa-Solo watched with detached calm as Fey'lya's supporters reacted with obvious horror at the sheer amount of evidence she had presented and many of them were clearly recognizing the absolute destruction of their careers. A good portion of it was admittedly circumstantial, but Bothan fingerprints were all over it and anyone who had opposed Fey'lya in the past recognized his handiwork.
Not all of the senators appeared taken aback by the chancellor's wrongdoings. Ackbar, for example, was reclining in his pod, chortling as if he were attending a smashball championship, and the Corellian delegation were discreetly offering wagers as to the final result. And the journalists present? They were watching the proceedings with almost orgasmic excitement.
"The chancellor's wrongdoing extends beyond these crimes I have enumerated," Leia announced once silence settled in once more. She locked eyes with the Bothan and endured his hate-filled glare as she continued. "This data chit," she said, raising the storage device taken off of Polo Se'lab months earlier, "contains information on key senators opposed to his administration, information acquired from criminal elements here on Coruscant." As Leia paused for dramatic effect, she made a subtle hand gesture with her free hand, signaling Winter to send the data.
Instantly, a wave of agitation swept through the Senate once more as each of the unnamed senators abruptly received a copy of the blackmail material Fey'lya had obtained. Leia had taken care to make sure that only the senator in question received the information in a secured data packet; she didn't want to be accused of trying to blackmail them herself, though it did still feel a little like she was. Despite her better judgment, she found herself hoping they would mend their ways or even resign. The Senate wasn't supposed to be filled with corrupt bureaucrats.
As this latest disturbance dwindled, Leia brought the data chit down and, with an exaggerated gesture, snapped it in half. It was a PR move, one that publicly denounced Fey'lya's methods, and she knew everyone present would see it as such. Once more, she locked eyes with the Bothan.
"In the light of this evidence of wrongdoing," she said, well aware of every eye upon her, "I call for … no, I demand a vote of 'no confidence' for Supreme Chancellor Borsk Fey'lya."
And once more, the Senate erupted with noise and every sound was a cry of agreement. His face frozen in an expression of despair and fury, Fey'lya fell back in his seat, broken and defeated.
Defeating the clones turned out to be easier than she expected it to.
As the two jumped toward her, their sabers held aloft, Mara sprang forward. She caught the clone on the right with a low body-check, the armored pauldron on her shoulder slamming into his stomach and knocking the breath right out of him. His brother clone stumbled as Mara shoved the gasping Koth into him and, in the half second he tried to recover, she drew her blaster and shot them both in the face.
Letting them fall, Mara quickly turned away, her eyes desperately seeking out Luke. Her breath caught at the placid expression he wore as he defended against the furious flurry of strikes by the armored figure. Despair flashed across Skywalker's face and he closed his eyes. Mara took two rapid steps toward the pair, fear suddenly surging into her throat as the would-be Sith howled a cry of victory. He lunged forward, his saber shrieking.
And in that heartbeat, Luke casually slipped past the man's defenses and stabbed him in the chest.
Gasping with pain and surprise, the would-be Sith froze in place. He looked down at the humming blade piercing his heart and his own saber fell from nerveless fingers. With barely a sound, the man dropped to his knees, still looking at the weapon that had killed him. His Force sense swirling with anguish, Luke deactivated the blade and it retracted with a soft hiss.
The Sith toppled.
Releasing the breath she'd unconsciously held and fighting to contain her relief, Mara began picking her way toward where Luke stood. He knelt, removing the death's head helmet and tossing it aside. The man underneath gasped something softly to Luke, something Mara couldn't hear, and Skywalker's Force sense shivered.
"She?" Skywalker muttered, every line in his body screaming with surprise. The would-be Sith said nothing else as his presence in the Force flickered and winked out like a candle. Luke looked up, his eyes glittering with sadness, and Mara reached his side. She dropped her hand on his shoulder, wincing at the emotional pain radiating from him, and started to speak, to tell him he couldn't have saved the man, when a fierce flash of light drew her attention to the viewport.
She barely had time to gasp before the shockwave from the two exploding star dreadnoughts smashed into the space station, knocking both of them off their feet. Booms echoed throughout the facility and alarms began howling as the station began listing. Flat on her butt, Mara glanced at the viewport in the half second before debris punched through it.
Oxygen wailed as it was ripped from station. Mara reacted without thought as she reached for one of the Spaarti cylinders. With her other hand, she grabbed Luke's right arm and clung tightly to him. A tornado of wind tore at them, and the dead Sith's body was almost instantly sucked through the breach along with two of the cloning tubes. Mara felt the one she was clutching begin to shift and, a second later, could sense Luke use the Force to anchor it – and them – in place.
Protective blast screens slid into place and the tsunami of wind died instantly. Mara hit the deck and groaned.
"Are you all right?" Luke asked as he scrambled to his feet. Mara nodded as she slowly followed suit. A shudder ran through the floor of the station and emergency evac alarms began sounding.
"Mission accomplished, I guess," she muttered. Luke, she noticed, was staring at the way they'd come in, and Mara followed his line of sight. She winced at the debris clogging the escape route. At the rate the station's orbit was decaying, they'd never get through this mess in time to escape.
"Blast," Skywalker muttered. He gave her a sad look. "I'm sorry, Mara," he said. "I didn't want to put you in danger like this."
"In case you didn't notice, Farmboy," she replied, "I like danger." As if to punctuate the fact they were minutes from death, the station creaked and groaned around them. Their eyes locked and Mara felt her stomach clench at the unspoken emotions dancing in his eyes. Without thinking, she gave into the impulse that had been building for months and leaned forward to kiss him.
And, for just a moment, the galaxy fell away.
The galaxy slowly returned to focus.
Blinking away the spots that spoiled his vision, Wedge Antilles stared at the shattered and burning hulls that had, until moments ago, been two of the mightiest warships in the quadrant. The ring of debris surrounding the two derelicts was still expanding and Wedge could see it had nearly claimed a trio of star destroyers; their hulls alight with damage and fire, they were limping away from the system, unable and clearly unwilling to continue the fight.
SHIELDS ARE GONE, Whistler stated dispassionately. I DO NOT RECOMMEND ENGAGING IN COMBAT OPERATIONS UNTIL THEY RECHARGE.
"So noted," Wedge replied as he jiggled the flight stick. It had a little more play in it than he recalled, and he sighed.
"The station's losing orbit," Fel remarked, and Wedge gave it a glance. Steady streams of escape pods were racing away from the heavily damaged station, followed by suborbital transports and shuttles; many of them were already pinging New Republic transponder codes, indicating they were Katarn's commandos getting clear now that they'd accomplished their task.
I CALCULATE SIX POINT THREE MINUTES UNTIL IT REACHES THE UPPER ATMOSPHERE, Whister interjected.
"All Republic ships, this is Admiral Solo." Han's voice echoed across the commline and Antilles exhaled in relief. "Pull back from engagement zone."
Glancing down at his sensor feed, Wedge could see that the Imperials were already doing so. Having lost a command ship and the station they were here to defend, they clearly didn't see any reason to continue the fight.
"Glad you're still alive, Admiral," Antilles said into his headset. He located the Falcon on his sensors and altered his vector to escort the battered freighter.
"That makes two of us," Solo replied dryly. "So much for the Lusankya," he remarked casually.
"Couldn't have happened to a better ship," Tycho said bitterly. Wedge glanced once more at the space station. A thought occurred to him and he voiced it without hesitation.
"What about Luke?"
Luke was quite thoroughly kissing Mara.
At any other time, Talon Karrde would have cleared his throat or simply made a discreet exit and come back at a later time, but the rapid disintegration of the station's orbit robbed him of that opportunity. While he was glad the two had evidently gotten past their emotional issues, he did wish they had picked a better time to investigate one another's tonsils.
"Couldn't you have picked a better time?" Calrissian asked, voicing Talon's thoughts, and the two Jedi sprang apart. Both flushed with embarrassment at having been caught in such an intimate moment, but Karrde gestured in the direction of the exit.
"If you don't mind," he said with a grin, "we'd like to leave."
"Right," Skywalker muttered as he quickly shot Mara a glance. She ignored him as she jogged toward the hatch where Shada and Horn were waiting.
"Nice of you to join us," Corran said to Skywalker, his eyes dancing with mirth, and Luke flushed once more.
Beyond the hatch, the corridor stretched out in several different directions and Mara chose one seemingly at random. When Skywalker didn't question her selection, Talon chalked it up as a Jedi thing. Several meters beyond the hatch, they encountered the Noghri, with a wounded Barkhimkh supported between two of his companions. Khabarakh was speaking softly into a comlink when they appeared and barely glanced up.
"COMPLIANCE," a mechanical-sounding voice declared from Khabarakh's small comlink. Mara rounded on the Noghri, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
"What the hell is that droid doing to my ship?" she demanded.
"Hone in on my signal," Khabarakh ordered before looking up to meet Mara's flashing eyes. "He wanted to help so I instructed him to stand by for an emergency extraction." As if to punctuate their situation, the station shook underfoot.
"We don't have time to argue this," Lando growled. "Let's get off this thing!"
The race to the nearest docking port was a blurred nightmare though later, Karrde could not recall exactly how they managed to get there. What he could recall was the sense of utter relief that washed through him when the Second Chance made a hard seal against the station. Even Mara seemed to temporarily forgive Skywalker's astromech as the freighter roared away from the dying station. Behind him, Talon could hear Corran and Lando laughing and whooping at their escape, but Luke was staring at the ugly planet with unease in his eyes.
"Cheer up, Farmboy," Mara ordered with a relieved smile on her face. Talon blinked in surprise at the nickname; it had the sound of an endearment. "We won!"
"Did we?" Skywalker asked softly, his eyes still on the dying station.
Talon shivered.
BnB: Officially, you are correct. There are only supposed to be Two actual Sith Lords (the Master & the Apprentice). It is the Apprentice's job to ultimately kill the Master and take his place. In order to do that, he'll need to have an apprentice of his own in the wings waiting to become The Apprentice. In Vader's case, the apprentices he had were ostensibly "secret" and not known to Palpatine. It just doesn't make sense (to me, anyway) for either the Master or the Apprentice to not have secondary and tertiary options in place just in case something happens.
Plus, just because someone claims to be Sith doesn't mean they actually are Sith. As you can see by this chapter, for a wannabe Sith, Flint didn't last very long against Master Skywalker...
wbsaw: The fun part with Torul is that I totally ripped him from the Marvel Comics run of Star Wars (back in the 80s) but nobody called me on it (now go back and find his uses of the Mind Trick on Pellaeon!) By my count, Vader had three known apprentices from ROTS to ROTJ until the EU retcons another one in there: Starkiller (the guy in the new Force Unleashed video game), Lumiya (aka Shira Brie), and Flint. The later two were from Marvel. As to Korriban, I'm sticking pretty close to canon there, especially in regards to the KOTOR games.
In regards to "White Current," it came from a really bad trilogy by Bantam (the Black Fleet Crisis), but I dug the name so I ripped it off.
PhantomKnight88: I feel your pain re: being ticked off at the GFFA, though for me, it's a lot more than just the EU. I look directly in George's direction first and foremost...
LordRevan: The use of Flint was intentional in that his name is not as immediately recognizable as that of Carnor Jax. Had I used Jax in there, everyone familiar with Crimson Empire (in all its mediocrity) would instantly know he was a bad guy. In this case, I wonder how many readers didn't get the Flint connection.
And don't go counting Gilad out just yet...
EternalE: I suspect this chapter answers some of your questions regarding Kyle...