When the Jagged Fel's broad white blade plunged into realspace outside the Kovix-589 asteroid belt, Davek was there at the fore of the bridge. As emperor it was important to lead from the front, and it was important to be seen leading. He draped silver robes over his old admiral's uniform, striking what he hoped was the proper combination of regal and martial. Leadership was always about symbols, as he'd learned repeatedly over the past eight years, but today symbols mattered less than actions. It harkened back to his days as a mere officer, but what should have been comforting ground left him tense instead. This was going to be a long and bloody fight.
Admiral Jaeger's Fourth Fleet had spread itself around the section of the asteroid belt where Veers' ships hid. As Davek's First Fleet did the same, the Jagged Fel received an influx of tactical data straight from Jaeger's Afsheen Makati. The minerals on the asteroids scrambled even advanced sensors but they couldn't block visual scans, and after surrounding the enemy on all sides, Jaeger's fleet had glimpsed enough to piece together an accurate count of the ships Veers had in his arsenal.
One super star destroyer. Eleven more smaller destroyers, a mix of Impellor-, Compellor- and Predator-classes. With the combined First and Fourth Fleets, Davek outgunned Veers five to one, and most of Veers' ships were probably under-supplied and under-manned.
None of that counted unless they could get through the asteroid belt. Davek took reports directly from Jaeger and then from Marasiah, whose Jedi-piloted TIE Sabers had been slowly working themselves into the outskirts of the asteroid belt, looking for an easy way to identify mines and gun turrets. They both reported no success.
Davek knew everyone in his assembled fleets had to be feeling what he was now. They were so close to ending this but agonizingly far. Hundreds of thousands of good soldiers were readied for one last fight, and too many of them wouldn't get to see the end of the eight-year battle for the Empire's soul.
All of them deserved better. Davek couldn't do anything about that, but he could try and allay the fear they must all be feeling. That, too, was an Emperor's role.
"Captain Yorus," Davek announced, still at the head of the bridge so all could see him, "Please prepare a broadcast to all ships."
"At once," the Muun nodded. Thirty seconds later he reported, "We're ready to 'cast from your comlink, Your Majesty."
Davek plucked the comm cylinder from his admiral's uniform, then took a deep breath and flicked it on. He stared out at the stars and drifting asteroids ahead as he said, "This is Emperor Davek Fel. Very soon we will begin the final battle of this war. When it is complete the last of the terrorists who murder civilians in the name of 'restoring' Palpatine's dream will be erased from history. Once they are gone we will move forward as one Empire, reinvigorated and bold, into a future of our own making.
"This will not be an easy battle but as your Emperor I will say this. I am proud to have servants as brave and loyal as you. My gratitude is to each and every soldier, and I promise that once this battle is done you will have a chance to lay down the swords you've carried for so long and savor what you've earned through all your sacrifice.
"I thank you. The trillion peoples of the Empire thank you. Now, together, let us make an end of it."
He turned off the comlink and severed the broadcast. The bridge crew was still and reverent at his back. This was a situation where he wished he had the Force like Marasiah and Arlen, like his mother, so that he could truly gauge their reaction to his words.
But he couldn't dwell on that long. He had one more call to make. "Captain Yorus," he said, "Please prepare a direct transmission. Hail Nemesis and see if they want to talk."
-{}-
The spread of asteroids in which the Restorationist fleet hid was a screen that worked both ways, jamming the sensors of both the ships outside and those within. The Restorationists, however, had been here for years, and they had advantages the enemy did not. The unmanned turbolaser turrets installed on over three hundred drifting asteroids had sensors of their own, as well as transmitters that allowed for direct commands from Nemesis. These transmitters also worked in reverse, feeding types and telemetry of ships outside the belt to the super star destroyer's bridge.
As Darth Kroan stood on the command deck, hovering behind Veers and Grave as they all watched the data resolve on their tactical display, he decided this was about the response he'd expected. One massive Imperial fleet had reverted to realspace five hours ago and spread itself to blockade the section of the belt in which the Restorationists hid. The ships made no attempt to get through the asteroids, nor did they broadcast any message, which meant they were waiting for someone.
Five hours after their arrival, another fleet of equal strength showed up and began fanning out as well, tightening the siege net spread around the outside of the belt.
Kroan could feel the men and women on the bridge grow tense, but Veers and Grave assessed the situation with admirable aplomb. Some of Veers' calm was coming from the flask he kept in his pocket but periodically withdrew for sips, apparently uncaring who noticed. Grave, though, was intently studying the display, mind busied by possibilities. He was trying to think of ways to deliver maximum attrition on the enemy; it was clear they there'd be no easy escape from this.
Not for a super star destroyer, anyway. Kroan was still confident that Intruder, combined with the Force, would allow him to slip through the asteroid field and escape when things got desperate. He'd come here hoping these Restorationists would appreciate the help only a Sith Lord could provide. He'd not expected to find Corrien Veers reduced to a carless drunk and certainly hadn't expected Davek Fel to lay siege soon after his arrival, but before this ended Fel and his Imperial Knights could come out grievously wounded. Kroan figured that was worth lingering to see.
Grave was coming up with a strategy in his head, but he didn't seemed inclined to share it with Veers or the black-robed Sith who'd shown up suddenly and whom he clearly didn't trust. Something on the display made his eyes widen, and as he turned to the communications station to relay order the comm lieutenant spoke first.
"Admiral, we're receiving an incoming transmission."
"Is it from the Jagged Fel?" asked Grave.
"Yes, sir. It is."
Grave walked over. "All right. I will speak with-"
"No," Veers said. "I'll do it."
The two men stared at each other. Grave said, "You've always refused to speak to the pretender."
"Really? I'd forgotten. I'm so glad I have you to remind me of these things." Veers shouldered past the admiral and told the comm lieutenant, "Let me talk to Fel. I'm sure he'd love to hear the sound of my voice on last time."
Grave stood planted where he was, watching Veers' back and trying very hard not to let frustration get to him. Veers stood in front of the console as a shrunken blue holo-image appeared. The man had a trim dark beard and draped regal robes off his shoulders, with an Imperial officer's uniform beneath.
Veers got the first word in. "You've found us at last. Congratulations to you and your Jedi puppet-masters."
"Moff Veers, this is the true leader of the Empire, Davek Fel. I demand you surrender your fleet to my authority. I'm prepared to offer limited amnesty to your soldiers provided all officers ranking captain and above present themselves to me in surrender."
"A tempting offer, but I'm afraid you'll have to come and get us."
"As Emperor I hereby-"
Veers reached over the lieutenant's shoulder and turned off the holo. He glanced at Grave and Kroan, shrugged, and said, "Well? What would you have done? That conversation wasn't going anywhere."
Veers and Grave just glared at each other. Kroan looked at the tactical holo and observed, "They're starting to move closer to the belt."
Veers trolled up to his side. "If they want to get themselves chewed the shrapnel, I say let them. All those turrets and mines are operational, aren't they, Admiral?"
"Very much so." Grave forced his attention on the display. "Our vanguard TIE squadrons are getting close. Their IFF beacons will keep the turrets from firing on them, but they'll be able to lure Fel's ships into damage zones."
"Excellent," hummed Veers.
Grave looked over his shoulder and called, "Captain Fenrec?"
Nemesis' gaunt and gray-haired commander made his way across the bridge. "Yes, Admiral?"
"Has there been any progress on the search for the infiltrator?"
"Not yet, sir. We've ordered all cortosis-armor stormtroopers to report to the main hangar for checks."
"No infiltrator's going to march into that," Veers commented. "He'll probably ditch that armor and try to sneak around some other way."
"No one has attempted to use the stolen ID card since he sent the signal to Bastion," Fenrec told Grave. "We suspect he's picked a place aboard to hide and is holding position."
On a ship this massive a man who picked a good hiding spot could go months without being found, and as long as the ship was on alert for the infiltrator it would draw attention and resources best needed for the fight. It occurred to Kroan that however this infiltrator had gotten aboard- and though he didn't say it, Grave seemed to have an idea how- it was very possible this infiltrator had the Force to aid him. Using Imperial Knights as elite agents was just the sort of thing Fel would try.
"I believe I may be of assistance, Admiral," Kroan told Grave.
The man gave him a wary look, but before he could respond Veers crowed in triumph.
"Ah, you see that!" He pointed at the tactical holo, where a few blinking red lights on the outermost edge indicated the detonation of the first mines. "He'll be lucky if he has half a fleet by the time he reaches us."
And then, in full view of the bridge, Corrien Veers plucked out his flask, unscrewed the lid, raised it toward the holo in salute, then look a long and satisfied gulp.
-{}-
Even Restorationist ships had difficult getting in and out of the asteroid belt. The transponders attached to each ship broadcast a friendly signal to the automated turrets and mines, but slabs of space rock hung and drifted through space in an aimless jungle, and in the dim light of distant Kovix-589 you could barely see some asteroids until they were right in front of you.
Getting back to Nemesis aboard his shuttle had been a slow, aggravating crawl. Now that Vull was back in the cockpit of a TIE Saber he felt marginally better. He could never forget his failure at Kor Vosadii and the doom he'd brought down on them, but at least he was in a TIE. At least he was fighting the direct, simple fight of spacecraft and warheads and plasma lances dancing through the void. There was an elegance in life-or-death combat and he'd yearned for it after all these years of hiding.
A mix of shielded TIE Sabers and smaller TIE-X interceptors had spread out in all directions through the asteroid belt. Vull's squadron- which he'd decided to name the Breakers after his old bomber squad from so long ago- began by vectoring toward the prominent white wedge of a Legator-class star destroyer. Vull guessed it was the Afsheen Makati, once Admiral Davek Fel's flagship, later passed on to his protégé Devlin Jaeger. Jaeger, like Fel and Vull, was a former Voidwalker. Sometimes it seemed like a cruel twist of fate was all that had allowed Jaeger to climb ranks on Fel's cape while Vull ended up a fugitive. Had he been placed stationed on Makati when this civil war broke out instead of Veers' super star destroyer, everything might have been different. Or not; it was dangerous to think about that now.
Because these asteroids jammed sensors so badly they had to rely on their eyes. The Makati's eight-kilometer wedge was their guiding marker as the twelve TIEs slipped carefully around the ever-moving space rock, but they also had to watch for other ships moving through the belt. TIE fighters left dimmer thrust-trails than Alliance fighters but if you looked carefully you could still spot their moving lights. Vull caught a cluster of them winking in and out of view and opened a channel to his squadron.
"All Breakers," he said, "Enemies moving at point oh-five. Can I get secondary confirmation?"
"I have visual too, Lead," said Breaker Five.
"All ships, break formation. Prepare to engage. Targets of opportunity."
Dogfighting was messy, confusing business in the best situations. Doing it in the middle of dense asteroid belt was begging for fatal accidents, but that was what this mission required. At least they'd die fighting, Vull thought. He just hoped they got to deal some damage before the end.
-{}-
When Marasiah had ordered Knight Squadron and its twelve TIE Sabers into the asteroid belt, they'd complied without objection. They knew that their ultimate goal was to reach the enemy flagship as quickly as possible, but also to remain intact. Haste battled with caution and as they entered the belt and discovered just how dense and difficult it was to navigate. Marasiah knew caution had to take priority or they could all get killed, and if that happened there'd be no one to rescue Vitor.
Her son was alive. She could feel him, distant but present on the enemy flagship. She hadn't even tried to hide it from the other Imperial Knights; they'd sense her worry anyway. As a lifelong pilot she'd learned how to focus on the obstacles directly ahead but the danger to her son made it so much harder.
Her sensors were useless but she still had the Force, and it gave her a second's warning when the attack came. She sensed murderous intent veered toward them and so did her pilots, and without a comm signal they knew to break their already-loose formation and scatter.
The TIE Sabers fell on them with an equally messy charge. Lasers from the lead ships scattered on Marasiah's shields and she broke upward. A black-shadowed asteroid swallowed the view ahead and she wrestled her control stick in another hard turn, just barely avoiding a collision. The enemy Saber seemed to have lost her and she kicked her fighter clear of any space rock to try and get a view of the battle.
More lasers rocked her ship; with sensors scrambled she couldn't tell from where. She used the Force instead and felt lethal intent from below. She twisted her TIE to one side, then dove in time to see the other ship charging head-on. Her laser-spray scattered on its forward shields, not breaking them but robbing the pilot of a forward view, which was all he had without sensors. At that same moment a missile arced in from behind, pushed through the TIE's shields, and detonated.
As Marasiah broke clear of the fireball she felt another mind touch hers in the Force. She sent Katrin Mulk thanks for the save just before a wave of pain washed across the battle-meld. They'd just lost a pilot, and Marasiah swung her ship around in time to spot the dying embers of Knight Ten's ship. She also saw the thick green laserfire flashing out from one asteroid.
She knew Davek had sent initial fighter-waves into the asteroid belt to find and trigger these turbolaser batteries, then pick them apart and pave way for the bigger ships to start pushing through. She also knew that if Knight Squad stopped to disarm every battery, they'd never get to Nemesis in time to save Vitor.
All those other squadrons had one mission. Knight Squad had its own.
Marasiah flicked on her comm and said, "All Knights, keep clear of the hot spot and stay on target. We head for Nemesis and stop only long enough to clear our backs."
She said it aloud so there'd be no mistake. The attacking TIE Sabers had scattered and would return soon, but while they had the chance thet had to press forward and continue the long crawl through this death-maze, even if they triggered another turret or mine and took another loss.
It was a battle that could last forever, and she knew the only way to end it without massive causalities was to disable all those hidden emplacements. Until then, there was only the bloody slog.
-{}-
Vitor knew that once he sent the signal to his father, the whole ship would start looking for him. He ran through every possibility in his head, anticipating what the Restorationists would do to hunt one man with a stolen armor-suit and ID card. Using the card would surely get him caught, so Vitor carefully disposed of it in a refresher waste-bin. Ditching the armor would mark him right away but the ship's security would also be alert for solo soldiers in cortosis gear. He needed to find one place to hide and stay there. He also knew that if he didn't find some way to help his father disable all those mines and turrets in the asteroid belt, this battle could drag on for weeks or months.
When the idea hit him, him cursed himself for not having it before. The ship he'd stowed away on must have gotten through the asteroid belt somehow; either it had a map of where all those emplacements were, or it transmitted a friendly signal to their IFF receivers. Either of those could save thousands of lives, and if he were aboard the ship he'd also be able to send another signal to his father without alerting the crew aboard Nemesis.
He doubted Nemesis received frequent arrivals , so it was likely the Restorationists had figured out which ship he'd come aboard on. Whether they'd think to add extra guards around it was something he'd have to find out for himself.
Retracing his steps back to the hangar was a lot easier when he had something to hide his face. When he stepped into the chamber he found, with relief, that only two guards were posted outside the ship. He considered using the Force to flash static over the security camera as he'd done before but decided against it. He'd need all his concentration to get aboard.
Vitor marched confidently up to the guards. The landing ramp had been pulled up, but the Force could help him there too. First he needed to assuage the two white-armored troopers. If an alert had been sent regarding a lone stormie in cortosis armor, these ones didn't seem to have gotten it.
"Can we help you, soldier?" one of the troopers asked.
"Yes. There's something that got left aboard that should have been taken to the admiral. I've been sent to retrieve it."
"What's your unit?" asked the other.
"I'm here on special business for Admiral Grave. It's best not to keep him waiting." He used the Force to accent a severe tone. The guard on the left nodded agreement but the one on the right said, "The ship's locked from the inside. We don't have to access ourselves."
"Don't worry," said Vitor, "The admiral gave me the passcode."
Vitor tapped the control panel on his left wrist like he was sending a signal, but he reached out with the Force, through the ship's hull, and found the landing ramp extension controls he recalled from his escape. The ramp was only locked from the outside, and the press of a button was enough to lower it.
The guards stepped aside, apparently satisfied. "It may take time to find it," Vitor added before marching in. "I'll let you know if I need help."
They nodded and let him pass between. Vitor considered; memory-wipes were invasive and manipulative, and many Jedi counted them as too close to the Dark Side. Imperial Knights weren't Jedi but his mother made sure they stayed as close to the Light as possibly while serving the Empire.
It was a gray zone, and right now Vitor was willing to dabble in questionable methods. As he stepped between and past them, he reached out and put the fingertips of either hand on the backs of their necks. He felt them stiffen in alarm but sent soothing thoughts into their minds. He looked inside them, saw the last minute's conversation, and gently brushed it away.
Then he hurried up into the ship, closed the ramp behind him, and prayed that had worked. If not, he didn't have much time before they sounded the alarm.
He hurried back to the cockpit and fired up the computer. He couldn't find any map of the asteroid field and instead started checking the ship's secondary comm systems to see if it was programmed to broadcast any signals.
That got it. There was only one signal set to be broadcast in a constant loop. It had to be meant for the turrets' IFF receivers. Vitor copied the file and prepared a message for his father, using the same memorized encryption code he'd used before. He activated the shuttle's comm systems while keeping the rest of its power offline and sent the message with the tap of a button. Two seconds later a green notice flashed on his console: Message Received.
And that was it. He'd done everything he could. Trying to fire up this ship and run for it wasn't an option; Nemesis or another ship would shoot him down, then recapture him. There was less risk in staying. He knew deep down he wouldn't die here. That awful vision's upside was so clear and right now he was grateful for it.
All that was left was to stay where he was and wait for his father's fleet to come for him.
-{}-
"Your Majesty," Captain Yorus said, "There's something you need to see."
Davek turned from the tactical display and followed Yorus to the Jagged Fel's comm station. The console was alight with a transmission received. The data was encrypted using the same classified code that had alerted them to this location. Vitor was alive, he was all right, and he was trying to make contact. Davek barely restrained a sigh of relief.
Yorus and the comm ensign stepped aside so their emperor could enter the decryption key himself. When the message content appeared his first feeling was disappointment. There was no personal message from Vitor, not even coordinates to his exact location. All the message contained was a chain of code that looked programmed to repeat in a loop.
"May we see the message contents, Your Majesty?" Yorus asked, seeing his confusion.
"Of course." Davek stepped aside.
Yorus and the ensign looked down at the message and, after a flash of consternation, the young woman's eyes face up.
"Your Majesty, I… I believe I know what this is," the ensign said.
"Go ahead."
"I believe this is a signal meant for IFF receivers. You Majesty, where did this come from?"
His son, a miracle-worker. "We have an agent aboard Nemesis. Can we set our ships to broadcast this same signal?"
"We have the same hardware as them, Your Majesty. Better. It should work for all our ships."
"Then can you patch me a direct line to Knight One?"
The ensign nodded. "Yes, at once."
Davek and Yorus hovered over the woman's shoulders as she anxiously keyed in a transmission to Marasiah's TIE Saber. Davek had no idea what his wife's situation was or what he'd be interrupting, but she responded quickly.
"This is Knight One," she said.
"This is the Jagged Fel," Davek said. "We've just received a new transmission from our agent aboard Nemesis." He gave that a half-second to sink in, then said, "We're relaying the sent data now. We believe this code is a friendly identifier meant for passive broadcast."
Marasiah took that meaning too. The ensign forwarded Vitor's code, and after three drawn-out seconds Marasiah reported, "I'm transmitting now, sir."
"Relay it to all your pilots. Are you near an active turret emplacement?"
"Close enough. Stand by. We'll test the signal."
Marasiah closed the link so she could concentrate on her duty. Davek stayed at the comm station, tense, waiting for her reply. Initial attempts to fight their way through the asteroid belt's many deathtraps had been costly. Even Marasiah's Imperial Knights, who'd penetrated deeper than any other fighter squadron, had lost two ships to turrets and two more to enemy TIEs.
And then her voice came back. "That code is confirmed effective. Repeat, confirmed effective. We got close to a turret and destroyed it without any reaction."
"Excellent. Continue forward, Knight One."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
The line clicked off. Davek told the ensign, "Every ship in the fleet needs to start broadcasting this signal. Send a copy to every capital ship immediately, with explanation. They'll send it down to their fighters. And tell all captains to prepare for full assault on the asteroid belt."
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Davek stepped away to look at the tactical map and Yorus followed. There was no telling how the Restorationists would react when they realized the enemy could slip past their defenses. They might take control of the emplacements directly, or they might do something to block out the identifier signal Davek's fleet was about to hijack. The battle was far from won, but this was undoubtedly progress.
Some new lights came up on the edge of the tactical screen. Their white sigils quickly turned blue and Captain Yorus said, "Ah. This Chiss have finally arrived."
The emperor allowed a small smile. His cousin's timing was excellent.
-{}-
Without warning the Imperial fleet began to fall toward them from all sides, like a constricting net. As the first capital ships blasted paths into the dense asteroid belt none of the automated turrets or mines reacted to stop them, and it became clear Davek Fel had found some to pass through.
The reaction on Nemesis' bridge was better than Kroan expected. The crew was shocked and aghast, but Grave took with all in stony acceptance. His mind whirred to come up with a counter-move. Veers, meanwhile, laughed out loud and took another swig from his flask.
"That damned infiltrator must have sent them something," the ex-moff said. "Captain Fenrec! Why can't your people find one bloody saboteur?"
"I, ah, don't know, sir. Our search teams are still scouring the ship."
"Sirs?" the comm lieutenant said meekly. "No encrypted message was sent from Nemesis within the past fifteen minutes."
"You're certain?" asked Kroan.
"Yes, ah, sir." Nobody knew how to address him, not that he cared. "Absolutely nothing."
There were other options, Kroan thought. He might have sneaked aboard another ship and sent a signal from there. Fel's people may have figured out a way to jam or confuse the turret's IFF receivers on their own. The infiltrator might also have found a way to send a signal without raising flags on the bridge. Any infiltrator had to be resourceful, especially if they were an Imperial Knight.
Grave cared less about what had happened and more about how to counter it. The admiral hurried over to the tactical station and began snapping out a series of orders. His officers reported that the mines and turrets were still exchange signals with Nemesis; they were just unable to locate any hostile ships nearby.
Grave took that was encouragement. He gave a new set of orders, commanding his gunnery staff to take remote control of the mines and manually detonate them when they'd do the most damage. Kroan watched as the crew snapped into action. Within minutes the first report came in: a mine had been triggered right next to an unsuspecting enemy frigate, dealing heavy damage.
It was a start, but it would only slow Davek Fel's approach, not stop him. Kroan turned his attention to the elusive infiltrator. They were almost surely a Knight; few vermin could be so effective. They may have found a way to use Nemesis' comm systems without alerting the bridge, or they may have sent the code from another ship.
Including one of the many craft sitting in this super star destroyer's hangar bays.
Kroan stepped up behind Grave and pulled the man by the shoulder. The admiral spun away from the tactical station with eyes were full of anger.
"How dare you interrupt me now?" Grave snapped.
Kroan decided to forgive him his tone; he was stressed and didn't understand the man he was talking to. "Admiral, do you know how that infiltrator goat aboard?"
Grave blinked. "No. Nothing certain."
"You suspect something, don't you? Just tell me. I'm trying to help."
He gave a jerky nod. "One ship arrived shortly after yours. It's possible the intruder was a stow-away."
"Where is this ship?"
Grave's eye twitched. "Auxiliary hangar 3-C. I placed it under guard. The infiltrator isn't there."
Guards would stop vermin, but they wouldn't do much against a Force-user. "Thank you, Admiral. That's all I need."
Kroan found the internal security station at the rear of the bridge and bent over over a focused and intimidated ensign. "Contact the troopers stationed in hangar 3-C. Ask them if they'd have any visitors in the past two hours."
"Um, yes." The young man didn't think to add sir. After a short conversation over his headset he looked up at Kroan and said, "They report no visitors at all."
"Does that hangar have security cameras?"
"Of course."
"Bring them up. Now."
"I, ah…."
The young man was more terrified than stupid. "Do it," Kroan said, and added a command in the Force.
The ensign brought up an image on his screen and began rewinding at four times standard speed. Kroan watched two stormtroopers standing in the shadow of a small civilian-model freighter. Their figures hung in place, still except for small twitches, until the recording showed the freighter's access ramp suddenly lowered.
"Play back, normal speed," Kroan ordered.
The ensign complied. When the recording started rolling forward there was a third trooper standing in front of the other two. This one wore bulkier cortosis armor. The closed ramp opened, seemingly on its own, and as the third trooper walked past he reached back with either hand, paused with fingers against the back of the others troopers' necks, then continued up and closed the door behind him.
"Found something useful?" Veers said behind him.
It made Kroan and the ensign both jump. The Sith Lord spun to face Veers and said, "Do people still follow your orders, or are you completely useless?"
Veers looked mildly annoyed instead of offended. "Tell me what you need."
"A squadron of cortosis-armored troopers, under my command."
Veers raised an eyebrow, begging more.
Kroan sighed, "Please."
"I think," said Veers, "That can be arranged."
The troopers would help, but Kroan planned to handle the infiltrator himself. Vermin were fit to handle vermin but only Force-users could handle other Force-users. It was the way it had always been, and always would be.
-{}-
From the inside of the cockpit Vitor could see the arrival of a full dozen stormtroopers, all in bronze-tinted cortosis armor. They'd found him and come for him but still he didn't panic. He knew his Force-vision would come true and knew it wouldn't happen here. That glimpse of his death had become an antidote to fear.
When the last figure stepped inside the hangar his confidence faltered. The tall, broad-shouldered man walked in swirl of black robes. Scars darkened his bald head. As he approached the freighter he lifted his head and looked straight at Vitor's position, as though he could see him through the cockpit's reflective transparisteel.
And, just once but very firmly, the man's reached out to Vitor in the Force and touched him.
Vitor was barely out of the cockpit when he heard the landing ramp strain open. He couldn't go out that way and he couldn't stay inside. He ran to the back chamber, where a few empty cargo-crates still lay, and climbed on a stacked pair. He ignited both white-bladed lightsabers, prayed he wasn't about to hit something explosive, and stabbed them into the ceiling. Two half-circle arcs burned a sufficient hole and he used the Force to lower the cut-out disc to the floor.
A few more cuts got him through another layer, and as a storm of boots pounded up the entrance ramp he used the Force to shove himself through the hole, all the way up and out. He rolled onto the freighter's roof and staggered upright, both sabers still sizzling in his hands.
He heard a third humming sound behind him, spun, and raised both weapons in time to catch a red lightsaber's vertical strike. Three blades sizzled together and the black-robed man- the Sith- pressed down on him hard.
Vitor pushed back, then sidestepped. He lashed out with his right saber but the Sith stepped away. Vitor kept his eyes on the Sith and took two steps back. His right foot landed on the rim of the hole he'd cut and he nearly lost balance.
The Sith didn't strike him. Vitor realized why; he was still wearing the cortosis armor he'd stolen. He'd taken off the helmet but the rest of the bronze armor was still there, not just protecting him but scaring his opponent. Even if he could slip his red blade past Vitor's white ones, anything but the most precise blow would short out his lightsaber and leave him helpless.
Vitor felt giddy confidence come back, stronger than ever. "You think you can kill me? I'd like to see you try."
The Sith lowered his lightsaber and gaze Vitor a stare full of resentment. Then he took one hand off his weapon, raised it, and released a blast of Force lightning. Vitor raised both sabers, crossed them, and caught most of the blast, though painful energy still sizzled across his face. He held them there, straining against the release. It felt like he was trying to hold back a storm.
Then the attack stopped. The Sith lowered his hand to grip his saber again. Vitor hefted both weapons for an attack, took the first step forward-
-then fell and kept falling, and his body refused to move. His face slammed painfully into the ship's hard hull, and then there was no pain and nothing else either.
-{}-
Darth Kroan looked at the body sprawled face-down in front of him and shut off his lightsaber. He looked past the prone form to the stormtrooper who'd climbed onto the ship's back unnoticed and popped a single well-placed stun shot into the back of the man's neck.
"Very good," Kroan said. He walked up to the body and used his foot to roll it onto its back so the face could be seen. Happy with confirmation, Kroan looked up from the Prince of the Empire and said, "Contact the bridge. Tell your leaders I have a prize better than they could have ever hoped for."