Chapter 55:

Mara could feel her master as she meditated. His power was so great it was almost tangible; even now she could feel it, barely contained within him. A tremor shook the deck beneath her, and her eyes opened. They must have dropped out of hyperspace.

Atrox suddenly stormed onto the bridge when he sensed when they had dropped out of hyperspace. He stalked over to Admiral Piett and loomed over him. "Status," he demanded in a cold, unforgiving voice.

"We have just entered the Y'Toub system, my lord," Piett replied, unfazed by Atrox's coldness. "What are your orders?"

"Prepare a landing party, led by my apprentice. Secure the contact and bring him to me... alive." Atrox said just as coldly.

"It shall be taken care of at once, my lord." Piett responded.

Marcus Beron sipped a Ruby Bliel, his eyes taking in the dimly-lit cantina. So far, the spy hadn't shown, though that wasn't necessarily surprising in itself. Any number of things could have held him up in a place like Nar Shaddaa. But he didn't really mind waiting. He had nothing better to do, and besides, the drinks were good.

A young woman staggered over to the booth where he sat, a dead look in her eyes. "Not m' fault," she slurred. She slid in next to Beron, and slammed her glass down on the table, almost spilling it. "He thinksh he can treat me like that… he better think again," she muttered, darkly.

Beron eyed her, cautiously. He didn't need to end up in a mess because of some drunken wench. "Ah, miss, I'm sorry, but I need this table," he began.

Suddenly the woman's emerald eyes narrowed, and he felt the cool muzzle of a tiny blaster up against the back of his neck. "No," she whispered, "I don't think you'll be needing this table anymore." She pressed the blaster harder against his neck. "Get up, slowly. And keep your hands where I can see them."

He felt his blaster plucked from his side, and he stood up, slowly, acutely aware of the way she clung to him, still in the manner of a drunk, yet never allowing the blaster to waver. Certain others in the room began moving towards the door as well, and with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach he realized that it had been a trap.

"Who do you work for?" he asked as she pushed him along, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. She ignored him, amused by his feeble attempts. "Where are you taking me?" Her silence was unnerving, more so than anything she could have told him. His mind raced, trying to come up with possibilities for escape, even as they reached the docking bay. The men already had the shuttle prepped, and she shoved him into a seat across from her, the blaster never letting him out of its sights. His panic mounted as they approached the larger vessel, and his confrontation with whoever had sent the woman and her men.

Atrox stormed to the docking bay as the shuttle docked, crossing his arms as he watched as his apprentice walked down the platform. You have done well, apprentice.

Thank you, master. She smirked as she shoved the captured Rebel onto his knees at Atrox's feet. He's all yours.

Atrox smirked as he looked down at the Rebel in front of him. "Pitiful. You are a pathetic excuse for the Rebellion. You will be broken by my hand, this I have foreseen." Atrox hissed at the Rebel, enjoying the amount of fear that he sensed from him.

Beron's eyes widened with horror as he stared up at the Sith Lord. "Y-you're Skywalker! The hero who betrayed us!"

In a flash, Atrox picked up the Rebel by the throat and was lifting him above his own head, tightening his grip. "Luke Skywalker is dead. I am Darth Atrox." He said coldly, then used the Force to throw the Rebel across the hangar.

Beron crumpled to the deck, unconscious, a cut across his brow. Mara bent over him and awakened him with a touch. "I don't think my master was finished with you yet," she murmured, her eyes glittering maliciously.

He groaned and sat up, wiping a trace of blood from his eye. "What's… what's a pretty girl like you doing with a traitor like him?"

At once Mara's expression darkened, and her hand strayed towards the lightsaber now visible at her belt. "It is not your place to question me, fool. If my master didn't need you I would kill you where you lie."

Atrox did not move from where he stood, but reached out and touched his apprentice's mind. If you kill him, you will take his place during my interrogation… apprentice. Then you will deal with my master for your failure, he warned her.

Yes, master. I won't forget. But I won't put up with these blasted Rebels questioning my loyalty to you. Before Beron could so much as blink, her blade was ignited, and his hand was severed at the wrist. Beron's face went white, and he clutched his arm to his chest, a moan of pain escaping him as she dragged him to his feet, an invisible hand gripping his throat. She hurled him down at Atrox's feet and crossed her arms, barely controlled anger rolling off of her.

Atrox stopped the sliding Rebel with the sole of his boot and placed it squarely on the Rebel's arm. "You would do well to heed her warning, scum." He snarled, then looked up at his apprentice. "Take him to the detention block and prepare him."

"Yes, master." She lifted him with the Force once again and carried him up to the brig, grim amusement filling her as she thought of what Atrox had in store for him. She suddenly recalled their other prisoner, and ensured that he was no longer conscious by the time they reached the brig. Once there, she began strapping the Rebel to the scan grid, using violent force when necessary.

When she was finished, she reached out to touch Atrox's thoughts. Master, he's ready for you.

Atrox entered the room as soon as his apprentice notified him. Good work, apprentice. He walked up until he was standing right next to the Rebel. "Where is the Rebel base?" He hissed.

Beron's face was white and strained, yet he managed to choke out, "You'll learn… nothing from me… traitor."

Atrox smiled. "Oh, we will see about that." He nodded to his apprentice. "Level 3," he said softly.

"Yes, master." She ratcheted the dial to the appropriate level, watching in satisfaction as the red-hot metal began searing the man's skin. He cried out in pain, and after a few moments, she jerked the dial up to six.

At once he began screaming, and finally managed to form words. "N-n-no… please… stop… anything…"

Atrox did not make any motion for the scan grid to be shut off. "Tell me where the rebel base is." He said coldly, dispassionately.

Beron's screams awakened the other prisoner, whose eyes widened in horror. Despair settled over him. The Sith had spoken the truth; they had the other contact, and would find the Rebel base. He could only pray that the Alliance could evacuate in time.

"I-I'll give you… the coordinates… t-t-that's all I know… please…" He was dangerously close to unconsciousness as the machine inexorably burned deeper, and the shock of his injury threatened to overwhelm him.

Atrox used the Force to turn the machine down a couple of levels, but left it active nonetheless. "I will only stop the pain if you join us, otherwise, I am sure that my apprentice will be more than willing to accommodate a slow, painful death for you."

"A-anything…" his voice was reduced to a hoarse whisper from the agony and screaming, his eyes dull with pain.

Atrox nodded to his apprentice, signaling her to stop the scan grid. Test his loyalty, ensure that he is truly broken, my apprentice.

She shut down the scan grid, and forced her way into Beron's mind, searching for any indication of deception. All she could find, however, was pain, and despair. She looked up and met Atrox's eyes. He is broken, master.

"Good." Atrox replied. Take him to the bridge. Then have him input the coordinates and set a course, maximum velocity.

She eyed the shaking figure strapped to the machine. If he lasts that long. She half carried him down to the bridge, and Admiral Solo helped him set the coordinates and confirmed their accuracy. "Maximum velocity, Admiral Piett," she ordered.

Beron was barely holding it together. He leaned heavily on the bulkhead, every movement sheer agony. A single word of Atrox's pierced through the daze pervading his mind. Sleep. Without another thought, he willingly gave into the command, sinking down to the deck unconscious.

Atrox noted several of the royal guards passing him as he walked up to the bridge. "You two, there is an unconscious man in the corridor, take him to the barracks. Get those burns treated; leave the hand."

"Yes, sir." One of them said in reply, and they quickly went to do as he commanded.

Atrox stormed onto the bridge and walked immediately up to Admiral Solo. "Where are we heading, Admiral?"

Solo checked the coordinates, briefly. "Myrkr System, sir. Primary orbital body, planet Myrkr."

Without another word, Atrox retreated back to his quarters and knelt on a communications pad, contacting his master.

Vader's image appeared on the screen. "What do you have to report, apprentice?"

Atrox looked up into his master's eyes, his voice cold when he spoke. "I have turned the rebel informant, master. He willingly gave us the location of the Rebel base. They are located in the Myrkr System, master."

Vader raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Myrkr? The Rebellion is bolder and more intelligent than I thought." He crossed his arms, deep in thought. "What do you intend to do?"

Atrox thought for a moment before answering. "With your permission, I was going to send a squad of the Royal Guards out of uniform, along with the informant and my apprentice, undercover and secretly bring back senior Rebel leaders."

A frown crossed Vader's face. "I would think carefully before doing so. Particularly with your apprentice as part of the team. Myrkr can be particularly treacherous."

"Yes master. I will have her remain on board with me then. Do you have any suggestions as to handle the rebels? I doubt many of them would recognize 'Anakin Skywalker'," he said with a smirk.

Vader returned the smirk. "Perhaps. Perhaps not." He glanced at the chrono on the wall above the projector, mentally calculating the amount of time it would take for him to reach Myrkr. "I could be there in three days. Meanwhile, use extreme caution. I have not been there personally in some time, but I'll send you what information we have on the planet."

"As you wish, master." Came Atrox's reply.

"You have done very well, apprentice. Inform me at once if anything changes." The transmission ended.

Vader rose and sought out his wife. Padmé was reading in the sitting area of their quarters, and looked up when he entered. "Ani," she greeted him with a smile.

He returned her smile, then said, "I need to go to Myrkr. Our son has located the Rebel base, and it is going to be difficult to draw them out. You are welcome to come if you wish."

Padmé's smile faded slightly. "What about Leia?"

"She may also come, if she chooses, provided she does not get in the way of our operations."

"You know she devoted her life to the Alliance. Many of her friends are there."

Vader's expression darkened. "Don't remind me." He turned away. "You may both come, or stay, as you desire. But if you wish to come, decide within the next hour." He left the room to arrange for his departure.

"They what?!?"

"Yes," Padmé responded, knowing Leia's reaction was only natural. "You don't have to go. In fact, perhaps it's better if you didn't, under the circumstances."

Leia glared at her mother. "Do you know what he does to his prisoners?" she asked, harshly. "I was imprisoned by… by Darth Vader on his Death Star, and 'interrogated' for days while they tried to learn the location of the Rebel Base. It wasn't just a question and answer session either, no it was the whole nine yards—interrogation droid, injections, everything. And then, of course, the final insult… holding the fate of Alderaan in the balance. Not that it mattered," she added, bitterly. "They intended to destroy it no matter what I told them. My father died! The man who raised me since I was born!" She didn't cry then, and she didn't cry now, though her voice shook. "He was my father in all but blood, and when he and the rest of my childhood died, I swore to destroy the Empire and all it stood for. And yet here I am, and he has the nerve to ask if I want to go with him, to see my only friends tortured as I was? Killed like Bail Organa?" Without another word, she stormed out of the room.

Halfway down the hall, she nearly ran straight into Vader. He laid a hand on her arm to stop her, and she pulled away furiously. "Don't touch me!" she snapped.

Vader placed a firm grip on her shoulder. "I can sense your anger, daughter. Know that I am your father, not Organa. You will show me the respect any child will show their parents."

Her eyes flashed, angrily. "Respect?!? Respect?? You lost all claim to that when you destroyed my home, my familythe man I loved as a father, who was a parent to me when YOU WEREN'T, and you HELD ME BACK WHILE YOU DID IT!"

"THAT WAS TARKIN AND YOU KNOW IT!" Vader shouted back in her face as several nearby bulkheads shattered into pieces. "THE EMPEROR HAD ME UNDER HIS COMMAND!" He paused, "And you still have yet to accept me as your father. Since I am not your 'father', you will be sent to one of the Imperial prison colonies on Kessel," he said, the hurt slightly evident in his tone.

She lowered her eyes. "Perhaps it was Tarkin as you claim." She was silent for a long moment, then said, "Ever since that day I've had the same dream, of running through the corridors of the Death Star, trying to find the key, the switch, something, to turn it off before it fires. I never make it." She turned away, surprised for having opened this part of her to him like that. "But you yourself are not unfamiliar with dreams, if I'm not mistaken." After a moment, she said, "I'll be in my room. You can send your men there to take me to the ship."

Vader gave orders for her to be locked in the storage hold of the shuttle he was taking to Myrkr, and resumed preparations for departure.

Padmé came up behind him and touched his arm, cautiously. "I could hear you shouting. What happened?"

"According to my own daughter, I'm dead." Vader answered vaguely.

Her eyes narrowed, and she turned him gently to look up into his eyes. "What happened?"

"She refuses to acknowledge me as her father. Organa taught her to hate me. That hate could be a great tool in her training, but I do not want that for her." He spat the name as he replied.

"Oh Ani…" she embraced him, realizing how much that must have hurt him. After a moment, she said softly, "Leia is more like you than either of you know. She does know you're her father, and deep down, I know she loves you, in her way. But you are also correct, in some ways. She grew up as Bail's daughter, and she's spent her life fighting against the Empire. Many of her friends are with the Rebel Alliance, and she fears for their safety, especially with the mission you and L- and our son are embarking on." Her eyes pleaded with him, trying to help him understand. "I know you're angry, but give her time to calm down. I'm sure she didn't mean what she said."

Vader locked eyes with her. "I can be... merciful, all she need do is ask. However, I do still intend to punish her for considering me dead," he said bitterly.

"What are you going to do?" she asked him quietly.

"Wait and see if she can apologize and even conceive of asking me to give them my mercy." He said quietly.

Padmé was silent for a time. Suddenly, she said, "I'm going with you." She gave him a small smile. "I know you and your 'aggressive negotiations'. Maybe I can help you."

"You do know your way with a blaster, that was clear during the Clone Wars... especially on Geonosis." Vader said, smirking.

She smiled, wistfully. "Things were simpler then. But you know I'd rather start with peaceful negotiations." She gave him her 'senator's face' that he used to tease her about long ago.

Vader poked his wife playfully. "Are you telling me you want to help out with political issues again?"

She laughed. "Isn't that my job?"

Vader laughed as well. "We will talk more about it on the way to Myrkr, let's get ready to depart. Leia should already be in a holding cell on our shuttle."

She nodded. "Do you want me to pack you anything?"

Vader nodded, "Anything you think will be useful, my love. Myrkr is a harsh planet, almost jungle. Inhabited by smugglers, bounty hunters, and other low-life scum."

"I'll get on it, then," she said. "I know you want to leave as soon as possible." They parted, he to oversee the final preparations for their ship, she to pack clothes and other supplies they would need.