Part 20
Mission Abort + 45hrs
06:00 - Malhördhem Local Time
MEDICAL SPECIALIST TARJA KARSAAR sat at her desk, reading through medical reports, ensuring that everything was in order should the medical droids have to assume sole care of her patients until another medical specialist was appointed.
The Alliance 'rescue' plan was to dupe the Imperial forces into believing that the Rebels were no longer in Malhördhem, allowing Skywalker, Klivian and Derlin to be concealed within the medical centre and continue receiving medical attention. Tarja, however, had tabled enough surgeries to know that things did not always go to plan. No matter how well thought-out the Alliance strategy might be, she had to consider that, by this time tomorrow, neither she nor the Rebels would be in Malhördhem. And the wounded Alliance officers were not her only patients.
She picked up her beaker of kaffin, taking a long draw on the syrup-sweetened liquid as she moved to the next set of records.
"Specialist Karsaar."
Tarja looked up at Colonel Marek Vyre as he walked through the open door of her office. She had been anticipating his visit since the evening before, when the Lord Vader had first informed her of her new assignment: to ensure that Skywalker reached the Rebel Alliance along with Vyre. "Colonel," she acknowledged, before inviting, "Take a seat. I'll be with you in a moment. There's fresh kaffin in the pot, if you'd like," she went on, returning her attention to the medical reports.
Vyre prickled at the somewhat-dismissive reception. "Specialist…" he began.
Attention still on the reports, Tarja repeated, "Take a seat, Colonel. I'll be with you in a moment."
Quirking an eyebrow, biting down on a caustic reply, Vyre acquiesced.
"You'll find beakers over there," Tarja supplied, indicating a shelving unit with a wave of her hand, her attention still on the datascreen.
Vyre stayed seated, crossing his legs and leaning back in the chair, irked at being dismissed like a junior officer, but forcing himself to remain calm. He had been thrown a lifeline and he refused to have it jeopardised by provoking Karsaar to go bleating to Vader. He would find another opportunity to remind her of her place.
Finally, she tapped a selection on the screen, telling the protocol droid at reception, "Ceetoo, I'm in private conference. Hold any calls. I'll let you know when I'm done."
As the office door slid closed, she turned her attention to Vyre. "Colonel."
"Have you made contact with the Rebels?" he asked, dismissing any pleasantries.
"Skywalker is due to be released from the hyper-atmospheric chamber in four hours," Tarja began. "At some point before that, the Rebel Alliance will launch an attack against Vaaljajord, as cover for a rescue shuttle landing somewhere in the vicinity of the medical centre. But, that's just a ruse. Neither Skywalker nor Klivian will leave on the shuttle. Instead, they will be concealed within the medical centre, where the Rebels believe they will continue to receive medical treatment. Any Rebel personnel injured in the attack will also be hidden here."
Vyre sat for a moment, stunned by the simple audacity of the 'rescue'. A ruse within a ruse: and with the Imperial forces believing Skywalker was no longer on Vaaljajord it would be far less complicated to get him back to the Rebels once he was fully recovered.
"Where within the facility?" he asked.
"An overflow triage area used during the Daemor harvest. The access will be hidden by holoprojectors."
Vyre considered that information, then asked, "When will Skywalker be fit to travel?"
"I'll require to monitor him for another twelve to fourteen hours, to ensure the spore infestation has been completely neutralised."
Vyre nodded, formulating that information into a plan. "I have engaged the services of the bounty hunters," he told her after a moment. "We can move Skywalker to their ship once it's safe to do so. I have no doubt that he will give us the location of at least one Rebel base when he believes that he's being taken to safety."
"Lord Vader agreed that Klivian should join Skywalker," Tarja told him. "Returning both pilots to Rebel lines will make the rescue more credible. Antilles will only add to that credibility."
"I believe," Vyre informed her, rising to his feet, "that Lord Vader's plans for Klivian and Antilles have changed. Our priority is Skywalker, and Skywalker alone! Do I make myself clear?"
Stomach lurching, but knowing better than to push the point, Tarja sat back. "Very clear, Colonel."
oo0oo
Sheriff Ashtor Svioisaar stretched then relaxed for a moment before sitting up and swinging her legs to the floor. Sigurd Arnassen grinned at her, holding out a large beaker of kaffin, and a small food container. The smell from the container made Ash's stomach rumble. She quirked an eyebrow, "Breakfast in bed, huh?"
"Don't get used to it," Sig quipped. "Folks will start talking… but we got ourselves a long day ahead. Erika called Mama Torga's for a delivery: fresh-made blarberry bakes…"
Ash gratefully accepted the kaffin. Sig opened the food container, holding it out to let Ash pick out one of the bakes.
"Where are we on other matters?" Ash asked, biting into it. It tasted even better than it smelled.
"Derlin's settled in the warehouse," Sig confirmed. "Kaysix has called folks, asking them to check their properties. Mal will have droids in the storm channels within the hour. Derek Klivian is making a steady recovery, but still full of pain meds. Skywalker's spore saturation levels are dropping steadily. Tarja's had herself some sleep. Vyre's not stirred from the hotel since last night. All your Deputies are rested and ready."
Ash swallowed a long draw of the kaffin as she processed that information. Then she nodded, "Thanks, Sig." She held out the beaker to him. "Top that up, while I wash and change?"
"Will do, Boss!"
Erika Valsaar appeared in the office door. "We just got the report from Juta Torsaar that her anchorage warehouse has been broken into… And Colonel Vyre's on the move, heading this way."
Ash swore, softly. The last thing she needed was Vyre getting in the way, especially when they had the business with Derlin to…
She drew herself up as an idea occurred. Vyre's presence might not be such a bad thing. If Vyre was with them when they brought Derlin in, he'd lend credence to the apparent arrest. All she had to do was make sure that Vyre didn't prevent them from getting Derlin to the medical centre.
And if Derlin was risking himself to protect Malhördhem, it was only right that she and her Deputies did everything they could to convince the Empire that they were loyal. Vyre might be out of favour with Vader, but it wouldn't hurt to keep him on side.
"Call a briefing," she told Sig and Erika. "Bring up a map of the anchorage. Let's plan for an arrest, working on the theory that both Derlin and Zånder are in that warehouse. And when Vyre walks in that door, we show him every courtesy. Understood?"
Erika frowned, unsure where Ash was going with this. Sig was also frowning. "Every courtesy?"
"Every courtesy," Ash confirmed. "Colonel Vyre is an ISB officer, upholding the safety and security of the Empire… same as we are. You give him his due. Understood?"
A slow smile pulled across Erika's face. "You planning on bringing him along on the arrest, Sheriff?"
"I'm planning on being prepared for every turn of events," she confirmed.
oo0oo
Vader knelt, deep in meditation, immersed in the desires and hungers of Dark Side of the Force. They embraced him, strengthening him. Since discovering that his son was alive, the objects of his shaded emotions had changed, but that mattered little.
The Dark Side identified only the anger, grief, betrayal, and lust for vengeance. For almost two decades they had been focussed on Padme, on Obi-Wan and the Jedi. In the years following the eradication of the Jedi Order, in his anguish, rage and resentment, the Dark Side had shown him that Padme's reasons for following him to Mustafar had not been the treason he had accused her off. Instead, Obi-Wan had deceived her and, in her innocence and love for Anakin Skywalker, she had believed the deception.
Obi-Wan had betrayed her.
Obi-Wan had betrayed them both.
The anger and loathing rose up again, but not just at Obi-Wan. Since Yavin, things had changed. In the days following the destruction of the Death Star, Vader had finally acknowledged a truth he had not allowed himself to consider: Palpatine had allowed Padme to die.
Palpatine had promised him the knowledge that would save her… but hadn't delivered on that promise.
…it seems in your anger, you killed her…
He had known it was a lie… but after Obi-Wan's ultimate betrayal, under the influence of the medication coursing through what was left of his body, and in the face of the emptiness where her light had once been, he had discarded his instincts and believed Palpatine.
He had been deceived by Palpatine, just as he had been deceived by the Jedi.
The fear of losing power is a weakness of both the Sith and the Jedi…
Palpatine certainly feared it. And in Luke, that fear had been manifest.
Luke… his son… Nothing could dampen the desire to know the boy, to embrace him, to have Luke stand at his side.
Son, come with me… it is your destiny…
No! It's impossible…
The vision rose up, wrapping around him, drawing him into its depths.
Twin suns hung low against the horizon as the wind ruffled through his hair. A voice called to him through the evening breeze. "Luke…"
Immense, red-barked trees rose high above him, fracturing the sunlight into dappled greens. Animals leapt from branch to branch. "Luke…"
The thunder of a waterfall filled the air with a cool spray that brushed across his bare skin and fractured into rainbows above him. "Luke?"
Rain hammered onto the roof as a pot bubbled over a fire… "Much anger in him, like his father…"
Heat and lava flowed around him. "You were the Chosen One! You were to bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness!"
He stood, facing Obi-Wan, lightsabre ready in his hand. "I have brought peace, justice, freedom, and security to my new Empire!"
"Anakin! Obi-Wan told me terrible things…"
He turned towards Padme's voice, and found himself in a darkened room. Younglings huddled in a corner, trying to hide. A blond boy climbed to his feet. "Master Skywalker, there are too many of them. What are we going to do?"
oo0oo
Luke slammed awake, crying out a denial, trying to rid himself of the lightsaber in his hand and scramble away from the dead younglings… but a wave of pain robbed him of movement, erupting through him. For a moment he couldn't breathe.
Your father's lightsaber… the weapon of a Jedi knight…
I am your father!
"No," he choked, anguish tearing at him. Pain crushed through his chest.
"Son! Join me…."
Darkness fluttered at the edge of his consciousness.
"Fear... the Dark Side of the Force... Consume you it will… Clear your mind…"
"Luke!"
The pain dissolved so abruptly that he gasped in shock, collapsing back, breathing out, dragging in another breath.
"Luke! Can you hear me?"
The authority in the voice cut through the horror and panic. He turned his head, blinking as the movement made his vision swim. "Leia?"
"I've given you something for the pain!"
Not Leia, he realised. "Tarja…" He closed his eyes.
Clear your mind…
His racing heart slowed. He took a shaky breath...
Calm… Peace… Through the Force things you will see… the future… the past…
The afterimages of the vision reared up, again: the terror on the youngling's face as the lightsabre had ignited.
Panic surged and a sob tore through him. Was this his future? His chest tightened. He tried to breathe, but couldn't. Heat burned up through his body, bursting out in rivulets of sweat. Nausea surged.
Outside the hyper-atmospheric chamber, Tarja Karsaar swore as the medical readouts fluctuated. With Luke confined inside the chamber, there were few options open to her. She administered a sedative, knocking him out completely, watching the readouts closely as the trichlotrazide took effect. His heart rate and blood pressure began to lower to a more normal range.
She continued to monitor him, watching the flush disappear from his face, his chest rising and falling evenly. Finally satisfied that he was, once more, in a stable condition, she headed for her office, and for the medical information the Rebel Alliance had provided about the Jedi.
oo0oo
Vader drew back from the meditation, a slow smile of triumph tugging at his lips. The tremble of fear and dread had been so faint, that he had sensed it only because he had been searching for it. Luke was no longer completely blind to the Force… The Force trauma was healing.
"Master Skywalker, there are too many of them. What are we going to do?"
Vader embraced the memory: the lightsabre igniting and the youngling taking a step back. Terror washed across the youngling's face, but there was no time to run as the lightsabre swung down. There was no crying, no screaming. It was over quickly. Three, four swings of the lightsaber, and the younglings lay dead.
There had been no hesitation. It had been a simple choice. They had been sacrificed so that he could save Padme.
It would all have been so different if the Jedi hadn't lied to him. Afraid of him and the purpose foretold of him, they had fettered him by refusing him knowledge. They had plotted and schemed and kept him on the outside. They had paid for their betrayal: they had all paid. He had no regrets.
That Palpatine had also failed him, only added to his resolve.
He would avenge the treachery. He would avenge the time lost with his son. Palpatine was as afraid of Luke Skywalker's potential as the Jedi had been of Anakin Skywalker's. He would use that to usurp the Emperor. With Palpatine lying dead at his feet, and Luke standing at his side, he would crush the sedition of the Rebel Alliance and forge the Empire into the peaceful, secure and free society he had envisioned two decades before, with Padme.
oo0oo
Ash Svioisaar turned, looking at Colonel Marek Vyre as he walked into the Bureau office. She acknowledged him with a nod, then turned her attention back to the holomap.
"Juta says that there's no rear or side exit," Sig offered. "But there are windows overlooking the anchorage, about seven feet up. They could be accessed by climbing the crates she has stored there…"
"They're desperate," Ash put in. "They'll run. Or Zånder will try. Derlin was showing signs of Spore Lung. I doubt he'll go anywhere fast."
"Derlin?" Vyre asked, stepping forward, looking from Ash to the holomap, optimism sparking. "You have something definite?"
"No," Ash told him, "but we're following a lead." She nodded towards the map, "Warehouse at the anchorage: owner reports the lock's been tampered with. I reckon Olgenssen would stick close, especially if Derlin is sick."
"Lord Vader has been informed?"
Ash turned, looking at the Colonel. Crossing her arms, she met his gaze with as much authority as she could muster, then told him, "A word? My office!"
Without waiting for a reply, she turned, walking away from him, refusing to look back to see if he was following. Only when she reached her office, did she stop and turn around. Vyre was right behind her. She hooked her thumbs into her belt and told him, "I ain't putting myself or my Deputies in a situation with Lord Vader. I ain't whetting his expectations, only for that warehouse to be empty. The plan is to check it out, arrest Zånder and Derlin if they're there… and take them to Vader."
Vyre opened his mouth to speak, but Ash ignored it, stepping towards him, interrupting, "You and I are doing the same job, Colonel: ensuring the safety and security of the Empire. I don't admit to liking your methods but you're doing your duty, as are we. Now, that being said: we have an opportunity to bring in a man who freed a known terrorist and left his colleagues to face the fallout…"
"A man you failed to identify as a seditionist," Vyre reminded her.
Ash gave him a flat look, pushing down the desire to punch him in the face and throw him in the cells. She took a breath, letting it out slowly as she discarded everything else she had planned to say to him. Instead, she asked, bluntly, "Do you want to be the Imperial officer who brings in Derlin? Or don't you?"
Without waiting for an answer, she walked past him, telling him, "If you do, then check your mouth and follow me! And stay out of the way until we have them in custody!"
Vyre blinked, frowning as he turned to look after her. It was not the response he had anticipated. There again, nothing about Sheriff Ashtor Svoiosaar had been what he had anticipated. Despite the interrogation and Tarja Karsaar's confirmation of her innocence, he still distrusted her. She was too confident, too sure of herself, and he didn't trust that.
But bringing Derlin in was too tempting an opportunity for him to overlook. Huffing out a disgruntled sigh, he moved after her.
"Erika: stay here. You're our eyes and ears," Ash was ordering. "Markus, Gunter: you position beneath those windows in case they try running. Be careful and stay out of sight. Don't spook them. Sig, Lenya: you're with me. You follow me in through the door. No matter what happens, we take them alive! Understood?"
The Deputies voiced their acknowledgement.
Ash turned, taking Vyre's presence as agreement to participate in the raid. "Colonel Vyre will be joining us. He'll remain outside until we have the suspects in custody. Then, we hand Derlin over to him. Zånder, however, is ours. I want some time with that son of a spore before he's given to the Empire. Understood?"
There was a murmur of agreement from the Deputies. "Good," she went on. "Now, grab your armour and mount up! Colonel, you're with me."
oo0oo
Leia Organa put down the pad, overwhelmed by the detailed information that Artoo Deetoo had been able to retrieve from the Empire. The Imperial machine was nothing if not thorough. Not only had Artoo been able to secure a complete list of all the Alliance personnel held within the Dendraali facility, the little droid had found detailed information of Alliance prisoners in other facilities, as well as the units and effective dates of the re-educated Rebels already deployed into Imperial service.
She took a deep breath, lifting the pad she'd been making notes on.
"Anything interesting?"
Leia looked up at Shawn Valdez. She didn't know where to start. There were so many names. Finally, she chose a name close to home. "Corporal Mønaeg Erikssaar… She was wounded, not killed, on Hoth. She died on an Imperial transport."
Valdez sank into a chair. "Oh…"
Mønaeg Erikssaar was the instigator of the Vaaljajord Route. She was Per and Hetta's granddaughter: the reason a resistance cell had formed in Malhördhem.
"Sergeant Major Callum," Leia continued, "was also wounded, not killed…"
Dread pushed through Valdez. He sat forward, looking at Leia, jaw tightening. He had known Mønaeg Erikssaar only as one of Sergeant Major Callum's squad… but he had worked much more closely with Trey Callum, himself. The carefully controlled expression on the Princess' face did little to relieve his unease. If Callum had been wounded, there was every possibility that he was one of the soldiers being held in the Dendraali base.
Leia next words confirmed his fears. "His injuries made him a prime candidate for re-education," she offered, softly. "He was one of the first to be processed, along with Zev Senesca…"
Valdez swallowed down the constriction in his throat. "Where?" he rasped, dreading the answer. "Where is he?"
"Vader's troops," Leia answered. "He's aboard the Executor..."
Frustration and revulsion pushed Valdez to his feet. Turning, he slammed the flat of his hand against the bulkhead. He took a breath, holding it in for a moment before letting it out in a rush. Resting his forehead against the cold metal, he took another breath, composing himself, pushing down the anger, focussing it into a more useful emotion. Lashing out blindly would accomplish nothing, he reminded himself. Using the anger to centre and fuel his concentration, however: that would accomplish far more.
He straightened, drawing the mantle of Alliance officer around himself, once more. Turning back to the Princess, he saw the same anguish in her eyes, saw the same carefully constructed composure holding the distress in check. He took another breath, letting it out, slowly. "Makes sense," he offered. "Callum is the best of the best. And it serves Palpatine's twisted purpose to draft him into Vader's battalion when his last Alliance action was fighting against them."
Leia nodded. "And a deliberate attempt to undermine the morale of Alliance personnel, if they find out they might be firing on friends…"
Valdez sank back into the chair. "How detailed is the information?"
Leia shook her head. "Until Alliance Command have seen this," she told him, "I can't tell you any more than that. I'm sorry."
Valdez nodded. His anger had receded, but he still had a sick feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. He pushed himself to his feet. "The Sheriff and her people are moving in on Derlin."
"Then we should pay some interest," Leia acknowledged.
Valdez turned, but hesitated. He turned back to her as she rose to her feet. "If there's another mission to Dendraali… or to any other facility… I want to be on it."
Leia smiled at him. "We need to get out of this situation first," she reminded him, gently. "But I'll keep it in mind."
oo0oo
Deputies Markus Fjeldssen and Gunter Åstielssen moved carefully along the wall of the anchorage, positioning themselves beneath the windows of Juta Torsaar's warehouse. Markus keyed his comlink. "Boss, we're in position."
"Copied," Ash confirmed. Drawing her sidearm, she nodded to Sig and Lenya then moved towards the door.
Stopping as she reached it, she checked that her Deputies were in position behind her, then glanced further back at Marek Vyre. He remained beside the speeder, where she had left him. Turning her attention back to the warehouse, she stood to the side of the door and pressed the release.
It slid open and she moved inside, staying close to the shelving unit that ran from the right hand side of the door, into the warehouse. It was filled, almost to the roof, with boxes and crates. Another stack of shelving, piled high with containers, stood ahead of her. Thin light filtered in from windows high in the far wall, blocked by the containers. She took another step forward as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. "Sheriff Bureau!" she called. "Zånder, it's over. Give it up!"
When there was silence, she called out, "Derlin, I know you've got a lungful of Spores… You were coughing in the cells…"
Vyre observed the Sheriff and her Deputies through the open door. Intrigued, he moved forward, watching as the two Sheriff's deputies carefully manoeuvred a crate on the right-hand shelf, removing it and pushing it sideways along the floor.
"With Spores in your lungs," the Sheriff was calling, "you ain't going to survive without medical aid. You're going to drown in your own blood!"
The female Deputy crouched down, crawling through the space left by the removed crate. The remaining Deputy leaned in close to Svioisaar, speaking to her. The Sheriff nodded bringing her weapon up, inching forward, covering the Deputy as he disappeared from view into the bowels of the warehouse.
Vyre took another step as the Sheriff called, "Zånder, we know the truth! We know you told the Rebels to go to Per and Hetta's place. Empire ain't going to see it like that, though. Give it up, now, and we'll see your grandparents safe from judgement."
A blaster shot echoed, sizzling past Vyre. He felt the heat of it against his cheek and flinching away from it, dropping to the ground.
Ash moved, ducking forward into the cover of the crates ahead of her, pressing her back against them. "Zånder!" she called, seeing Vyre lying on the ground outside and taking a moment's pleasure at the thought that Derlin might actually have hit him. "You're surrounded. You won't take us all down! Killing an Imperial Officer ain't helped your chances none!" Dropping to one knee, she leaned out, bringing the weapon up to fire. Another blaster bolt missed her by inches, hitting the door behind her.
Lying on her belly on the far side of the crates, Lenya took careful aim at Derlin, and fired.
The blaster bolt hit the wall just above Derlin's head. He dropped flat to the floor, then immediately regretted the movement. He'd discarded the dialysis unit when the filter had clogged, and he was feeling it in his lungs. He tried to take a breath, but it caught in his chest. He coughed it out.
The muzzle of a blaster rifle pressed into his neck. "Drop the weapon, Major!" Sig ordered, softly.
Taking slow, careful breaths, Derlin did as he was told.
"Hands behind your head" Sig ordered, kicking the blaster away across the floor, before calling, "Derlin's secure! No sign of Zånder!"
As Ash began to turn, she saw Vyre pushing himself off the ground. Rolling her eyes in disappointment, she shook her head then moved towards Derlin and Sig.
Lenya climbed to her feet, following the Sheriff, making a show of keeping her weapon trained on the Rebel Major. Ash, however, holstered her sidearm. Reaching Sig and Derlin, she dropped to one knee. Derlin turned his head, looking at her. "Good try," she told him, "but you missed Vyre…"
Derlin opened his mouth, but the coughing fit he had been trying to keep at bay finally took hold. Ash swore, reaching for him. "I'll get the med kit!" Lenya announced, turning and running for the speeder. Sig also moved, dumping the blaster rifle on the floor to help Ash drag Derlin up and sit him against the wall. Ash pulled out her comlink. "Kaysix! Medical emergency! Derlin is secure. He's in respiratory distress. Alert Specialist Karsaar! We're bringing him in!"
"What's going on?" Vyre asked from the door as the Deputy ran past him, hearing the Sheriff's voice, but not having caught what she had said.
"Spores," Lenya told him, not slowing down. "Derlin's coughing."
Vyre quirked an eyebrow. As long as Derlin wasn't in imminent danger of dying, Vader would not be overly concerned about his exact medical condition. And the medical centre did have the specialist equipment to treat the Spores. Skywalker was already in one of the hyper-atmospheric chambers, receiving the treatment. Turning, Vyre moved inside the warehouse.
Derlin's coughing fit deepened, and Ash frowned in concern. "It'll pass," she assured him. "Don't fight it. Fighting makes it worse…"
"Sheriff!" Sig warned, softly. "The Colonel…"
Swearing silently, Ash rose to her feet, turning to look at Vyre as he walked towards them. "We have Derlin," she reported, "But Zånder Olgenssen isn't here."
"Your subversive Deputy is your problem," Vyre told her, giving her a pleasant smile. "I'm only interested in Derlin." He pushed past her, looking down at the Rebel Major, who was having obvious difficulty breathing. "How badly is he affected by the Spores?"
"I ain't no medic, Colonel," Ash offered, hooking her thumbs into her belt in an appearance of nonchalance, "but he ain't got no immunity, so they've taken hold fast. I've already alerted the medical centre. Once we get a respiratory mask on him, we'll get him moved." She tilted her head, "You've informed Lord Vader?"
"Not yet," he told her, moving out of the way as Lenya arrived back with the respirator in her hand. She dropped to a knee, settling it over the Major's nose and mouth before slipping the strap over his head. Then, together, she and Sig hauled Derlin to his feet.
Hands clasped behind his back, he watched the Rebel Major for a moment, hearing the man's breathing ease. Derlin opened his eyes, lifting his head, returning the Colonel's gaze.
Vyre smiled at him. "When I said, Major, that I would take great delight in watching you being put into a seclusion tank beside Skywalker, I hadn't anticipated it being quite so soon…"
Cold, hard dread slammed through Derlin. With sickening dismay, he realised that he might have badly miscalculated the situation, completely misjudging both Vyre and Vader's intent. This whole deception, of Ash and her people taking him into custody, had been to prove their loyalty, prove Vaaljajord's loyalty, to the Empire, to save them from Alderaan's fate. But the plan had been centred around him being taken to the medical centre, not a seclusion tank on the Executor.
It had never occurred to him that there might be a mindwipe facility aboard Vader's Star Destroyer. If Vyre removed him from the Sheriff's custody, if he was transferred to the Imperial ship… everything would be lost. At some point, during the mindwipe process, he would tell the Empire about the Sheriff, about Per and about the Vaaljajord Route.
Fear pushed him forward. He ripped free of the Deputies, barrelling into Vyre, knocking him to the ground, wrapping his hands around the Imperial Colonel's throat.
Ash swore, starting to move… but the sound of a blaster shot pulled her up short. In the silence that followed, Derlin collapsed on top of Vyre, lying still.
Shock stabbed horror through Ash, but she forced herself to remain still. Sig and Lenya moved, however, taking hold of the Rebel Major and lifting him off of the Colonel. Vyre sat up.
"I thought you wanted him alive?" Ash demanded, fists clenched at her side.
"It was a stun shot," Vyre supplied, lightly, as he climbed to his feet, and slid the side-arm back into the holster.
Ash took a slow, measured breath of relief. "Sorry, Colonel," Sig apologised. "Should have had a tighter hold on him."
Ash glanced at Sig then looked back at Vyre. "You okay?"
"It takes more than one piece of Rebel scum to intimidate me, Sheriff," he told her, dusting himself down. Tugging his uniform jacket straight, he looked at her, imperiously. "Now that the situation is fully under control, you can escort the prisoner and myself to the medical centre."
"Of course, Colonel," Ash confirmed, turning back to Sig and Lenya. "Take him out to the speeder."