The Taking of the Executor
Author Note: I decided to write an account of the capture of the Executor. So this happens before the events at the very END of the last chapter.
Admiral Kendal Ozzel stood wide eyed on the bridge of the Executor. The cacophony of sound stunned and bewildered and confused and terrified him – alarms going off at different pitches, nervous ensigns running to and fro, angry lieutenants snapping at beleaguered technicians in the pits below the bridge.
This could not be happening. It could not. The pride of the Imperial Navy, taken down in the midst of her maiden flight? But the Interdictor hanging nearby kept the Executor anchored in real space, and five Star Destroyers were protecting her gravity wells from potential assault. Other ships from Kuat had been pulled out of hyperspace as well, but all were miniscule compared to Executor. It was obvious that whoever dictated the actions of this hostile fleet was focused on capturing the massive ship under his feet.
There was a sudden lurch, causing Ozzel to stumble forward, and a lieutenant looked up with near hysteria in his eyes.
"Admiral, we have a hull breach in Sector 94 near the high security cell blocks. Automatic containment is preventing additional air leakage into space, but shields are down in that area. I repeat, sir, that shields are down."
There was a sudden buzz and a technician spoke now, his eyes wide, "Sir, the ship Devastator is hailing."
Ozzel took a deep breath and let it out slowly, seeking to calm his racing heart. It didn't work. Devastator was, or at least had been, Vader's ship ...
"Captain," he ordered suddenly. "I will personally make contact via holo with Kuat to determine whether any reinforcements are available. Wait until I am off the bridge and then open hail with Devastator.
Captain Zevulon started openly, "But sir, what are your orders if they demand surrender?"
Ozzel thought with surprising rapidity, since his life was at stake.
"Stall the commander for five minutes, Zevulon," he ordered brusquely. "If I have not contacted you about reinforcements, then surrender the ship."
The captain took a gasping breath and paled slightly, but saluted, "Yes, sir."
Ozzel turned on his heel and raced for the elevator, waving away an ensign who sought to fall into position behind him. Once he had entered the elevator, he punched the door shut and, after a moment's hesitation, clicked on button for Level 4. Not that he had any idea what was on Level 4. As Admiral, he avoided maintenance sections and garbage collectors and kitchen facilities in the bowels of the ship. But at this moment, the most important thing to do was hide and hope that in a ship this vast, he could disguise himself and be incarcerated as a common prisoner. It had to be safer than being Admiral.
Captain Zevulon waited another twenty seconds and then turned to the main screen even as he gulped.
"Respond to the hail," he ordered the technician.
The blank screen lit up within seconds, revealing the death's head of Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith.
There was a horrified silence and even the alarms seemed to diminish in volume through the haze of terror in Zevulon's mind.
"Where is Admiral Ozzel?" Vader demanded harshly.
Zevulon opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again, and then stuttered out, "Lord Vader, Admiral Ozzel is unavailable for a few minutes. If you would have the courtesy to wait ..."
"He will be available in 60 seconds, else I will commence firing on the Executor," Vader interrupted coldly.
Zevulon's fragile hold on sanity and consciousness broke. To the surprise of both Anakin Skywalker and the Executor's bridge crew, the captain swayed briefly then suddenly fell over in a dead faint.
Vader's sigh was heard across the empty void between the two ships.
Commander Khraft, the most senior officer conscious on the bridge, shook his head furiously at anyone who dared glance at him. He was totally out of his depth.
There was an unnerving pause as a few more seconds ticked by. Then another man stepped forward into the field of the holo and bowed his head towards Vader.
"Greetings, Lord Vader. Lieutenant Lorth Needa, at your service."
"Where is Ozzel?" Vader demanded wearily.
"My lord," Needa replied carefully, "the Admiral claimed he intended to contact Kuat seeking reinforcements, but I took the liberty of tracking his com. He is in fact in the lower reaches of the Executor, on level 4."
There was a soft gasp that rippled throughout the bridge, and the black mask twitched slightly, "So the Admiral has abandoned his post."
"It would seem so, my lord," Needa responded boldly.
"Very well," Vader stated. "As you are apparently the most senior officer on the bridge capable of speaking, you must speak. I demand the surrender of the Executor. In exchange, I will spare the lives of her crew except for her Admiral."
Needa did not hesitate, "I accept those terms, Lord Vader. Executor surrenders."
"My shuttle will arrive in Hanger 24 in 10 minutes. Be there to meet it."
"Yes, my lord."
/
On the 4th level of Executor, Admiral Ozzel was feeling moderately pleased with himself. He'd found an untended terminal, generated a list of deaths and missing personnel from the recent shielding failure in the cell block areas, and was preparing to take the position of one of the missing technicians associated with the prison. That was dull enough that it was unlikely he'd be scanned carefully when Executor arrived at the next port and the techs were sent on shore to command the droids or prisoners under their care. It wasn't a full proof plan, but far better than openly facing Darth Vader.
For a very brief moment, he felt a twinge of guilt. It was hardly the actions expected of an admiral in the Empire. But (and here he sighed deeply) the Empire wasn't really an Empire anymore. Palpatine was dead. The triumvirate leading the remnants of the Empire was fighting a losing battle and giving up systems on a weekly basis. No, this was supremely sensible, to leave his post, find his way back to Carida, and keep his head down.
Far better than meeting Darth Vader, who was brutal and unrefined and terrifying.
/
Hanger 24
Executor
Lorth Needa, standing behind and to one side of Commander Khraft, stiffened as the ramp of Darth Vader's shuttle hit the bay floor with a loud click.
There was a long pause and then tramping feet were heard. A moment later, a full contingent of stormtroopers marched down on the ramp behind a man with the insignia of Imperial captain. But no heavy breathing, looming Dark Lord appeared behind them.
Needa opened his mouth to ask a question, then shut it as the captain turned to stare at one of the fighters which had accompanied the shuttle. Needa followed his gaze in time to see the cockpit pop open. Seconds later, Darth Vader himself leaped to the ground with a resounding thump.
A moment later, to Needa's even greater amazement (why wasn't Vader on the shuttle?), the Dark Lord reached up his hands and helped a tiny cloaked figure to the ground beside him. Vader then stalked over to stand in front of Commander Khraft.
"Your name?" he boomed.
"Er, Commander Khraft, my lord. It is my honor to welcome you ..."
"You are demoted to lieutenant, Khraft. Needa, you are now captain of the Executor."
The new captain blinked in astonishment, but managed to keep from drooling in shock.
"Yes, sir!" he said in a chorus with Khraft. The other man, frankly, looked all too relieved to not be in charge of this mess.
"Has Ozzel been located?" Vader continued coldly, striding toward the exit with his cloaked companion marching next to him. The man, or woman, or alien, was tiny compared to the hulking Sith, but Vader was walking slowly enough that she/he/it didn't fall behind.
"No, Lord Vader," Needa stated hastily. "His com went silent ten minutes ago. The Executor is a behemoth, my lord, and the battle caused significant disruption. He might be almost anywhere."
The cloaked figure reached out now to touch Vader, which bewildered Needa exceedingly. Who would dare touch the man? Who would want to?
"Yes, Padme?"
Vader sounded positively gentle.
A slim hand reached up to push back the hood, revealing the head of a thoroughly gorgeous middle aged woman, her brown eyes intent, her glorious hair swept up in a sophisticated crown of braids.
"Do you think Ozzel a danger, Ani?"
Ani?
"No" the cyborg responded. "He has obviously fled for his life. He is a coward and a weakling and deserves death for abandoning his men."
The woman lifted a cultured eyebrow even as she smiled blindingly, "Darling, he was fleeing you. Yes, he sounds like a poltroon, but I can't quite blame him for giving way to unadulterated terror. You are quite fearsome, dearest. And I would suggest that you execute as few people as possible today. It isn't good for your blood pressure."
(Darling? Dearest? Blood pressure?!)
There was a surprisingly long pause, and then the behemoth sighed, "He has command codes for this ship, which we need."
"Very well," the woman responded, her smile positively mischievous. "I'm sure we can track him down."
/-
Garbage Compactor #5
Executor's main prison blocks
12 hours later
Admiral Ozzel, clad in the dreary and now soiled uniform of a lowly sewage technician, gagged as he hurled the ghastly remains of a prisoner into the open door of the compactor.
This. Was. Horrific.
He was an Ozzel of Carida. He was above such loathsome work. Why hadn't he chosen to take the place of a cook, or even an engine mechanic? Admittedly he could neither prepare food nor fix machines, but he could probably have brazened it out.
But no, he'd decided sewage technician was a good choice because ... because ...
He couldn't remember why. He was totally, completely exhausted. He was nearly dead on his feet. Everyone was working straight through rest times at the orders of Lord Vader, who now commanded the ship, and Ozzel was caught up in the organized chaos.
The droids who should be dealing with incinerated and crushed prisoner remains from the battle were off doing other, apparently more important, jobs. Or they were crushed too.
What a mess.
Was that ... that a flipper? Yuck!
Behind him, a mouse droid chirped diligently and twirled around and left. He wished he could leave.
"Move faster, men," a lowly ensign ordered anxiously. "Lord Vader wants this section cleared out within the hour!"
Ozzel groaned softly and bit his tongue. He was an admiral. He had been an admiral. To be ordered around like this was almost more than he could bear.
And if he didn't rest soon, he would fall over. It appeared that hours and hours of standing around on the bridge looking important were not good practice for actually doing physical work.
Ozzel wearily leaned down to pick up another bloody bit from some hapless prisoner, when there was a sudden squeal from the technician at his side. The admiral looked up in shock, then terror, as a long appendage reached out from the trash compactor to wrap itself around the man's middle.
"Dianoga!" the ensign yelled in fear. "Get back, get back!"
What in all the dismal depths of the universe was a dianoga?
The man was scrabbling desperately for hold as the tentacle yanked the man towards the garbage pit. Ozzel cowered back but the ensign, made of sterner stuff and armed with a blaster, charged forward and shot the creature's eye socket, which had appeared above the murky squalid water of the garbage compactor. The squid like beast squealed loudly and retreated, leaving the technician on the ground, moaning in terror and pain.
Ozzel struggled to regain control of his own breathing. That could have been him. He could have been grabbed by a bizarre tentacle monster. This was a nightmare!
There was a sudden stamp of feet behind him, but Ozzel was too shaken to really care.
"Freeze!" a voice said.
The (former) admiral straightened slowly and turned around. The ensign was standing to one side of the corridor, his eyes wide. A captain stood tall and accusing with a small squad of stormtroopers at his heels.
"Admiral Ozzel, you are under arrest."
Ozzel blinked in bewilderment, then obediently held out his hands as a trooper stepped forward with manacles.
How had they found him?
As if in response to this thought, a mouse droid zipped up and made a couple of circles around him, beeping triumphantly.
Mouse droid. He'd been identified by a mouse droid.
How embarrassing.
But at least he wouldn't have to deal with hours and hours more of singed and broken and smelly body parts, not to mention smelly, scary swamp freaks.
Thirty minutes later, Ozzel had been briskly bathed, fumigated, slightly scented with Roonan lemon spritz to mitigate the remaining smell of decomposition, remanacled, and clothed in the garish green uniform of a prisoner. The silent but firm captain then proceeded to march him up to the command deck and into his former office.
Standing at one end of the room, his hands locked behind him, cape reaching to the ground, breath rhythmic, stood Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith.
Ozzel was pushed forward by his guards and lurched, suddenly so frightened he could barely stand.
There was a dreadful pause, and then Vader gestured imperiously with one hand, "Leave us."
The former admiral realized, morosely, that this command was to his escort, not to him. The other men withdrew and the door slid shut behind him, leaving Ozzel to his fate.
Vader stalked forward, his body stiff with outrage, "You are a disgrace to the Imperial Navy, Ozzel. A coward, a fool, a selfish weakling who focused on his own safety as opposed to the needs of the men under his command. You deserve to die."
Ozzel waited silently for the talons to enclose around his neck, but to his surprise he just kept breathing even as the Sith glanced briefly toward a closed door nearby.
Now the cyborg glared back down at his terrified prisoner, "I am willing to spare your life, though not provide you your freedom, in exchange for your cooperation, Ozzel. The primary override code for the Executor – what is it?"
Ozzel spent 2 seconds contemplating the fact that Vader was offering him life instead of death. Then he spent 3 seconds considering whether it was possible Vader was actually telling the truth. 4 more seconds went to remembering whether Vader bothered lying to pathetic prisoners when he would rather torture them. The 10th second he opened his mouth to answer the question, only to have his throat close in the famous Force choke.
So yes, he was indeed going to die.
Twenty seconds later, as he fell to his knees and his vision began to swim, he heard a door slide open and a feminine voice order, "Ani, let him go!"
A moment later, his throat opened and life giving air rushed into his lungs. He sucked in air greedily, even as he vaguely paid attention to the conversation continuing above his bowed head.
"Anakin, what did I tell you about executions?"
"He refused to cooperate. He is not just a coward but an idiot."
There was a pause, and then the feminine voice continued, "Darling, he doubtless is a coward, and thus scared to death. How do you expect him to talk sensibly when you loom over him like some demented Loth-bat out of Chaos? Take off that tiresome helmet, kiss me, and chat with Luke. He just got back to Devastator."
This remark was so bewildering that Ozzel found the strength to push himself painfully to his feet, just in time to see Darth Vader lift his gloved hands, pop off his helmet to reveal a surprisingly human face, and then plant a passionate kiss on the mouth of the gorgeous dark haired woman at his side.
"Here's the comlink, Ani," the woman said after disengaging. "Tell Luke we'll send someone over for him soon."
Vader (?) bowed slightly, shot an irritable glance at Ozzel, then retreated to the transparisteel viewport.
The woman turned to the sweating, completely bewildered prisoner and smiled graciously, "Now, what about those command codes?"
Author Note: The "too many executions are not good for your blood pressure" line is from a wonderful Doctor Who episode, the Pirate Planet. It's from the old Doctor Who series, the 16th season. Tom Baker was the doctor, and it was the Key to Time season, which we all love. I'll get back to Mara Jade soon, I promise!