I don't own Star Wars, of course.
Palpatine Uranium Processing Facility
Dachat
More than One Standard Year since Bespin
Darth Vader rose to his feet in spite of the swaying of the shuttle and strode toward the exit ramp. His ship was still a few minutes from docking, but he could not sit still any longer. He must act, and soon, or all was lost.
Below him were the barren lands of the equatorial regions of the planet Dachat, where uranium was mined in great quantities to fuel the vast fuel cell factories needed for the Imperial war engine.
The Force was a wild thing, thrumming with destruction and the terror of numerous inhabitants of the uranium industrial complex on the planet below. There was glory in such darkness, but there was also fear in the heart of Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith. For somewhere within the whirling gloom was his only son, Luke Skywalker.
And Luke was in danger.
This was no surprise; the child had a remarkable capacity for getting into significant trouble and an even more amazing capacity for escaping with life and limb (mostly) intact.
Indeed, the only permanent injury marring his son's body was the one he had inflicted on Bespin, when he had taken off Luke's right hand in a fight gone too far.
Even now, more than a year after Luke and Vader had battled at Bespin, the Dark Lord struggled with uncertainty over their meeting. It had not gone remotely well, of course. He had expected to capture Skywalker in carbonite. Then he had expected the boy to surrender after Vader cut off his hand. But Luke had leaped into an endless void and, incredibly, thankfully, had been rescued by his motley group of friends who had come back for him and snatched him from certain death off a weather vane at the bottom of Bespin. And then, surprisingly enough, the Rebels had successfully fixed the hyperdrive and blasted into hyperspace seconds before a tractor beam locked on to the battered freighter.
Since then, Luke had managed to evade capture with incredible, enraging skill. The Light Side of the Force, so quiet and meek for the first twenty years of the Empire, pulsed with Luke's growing power. On the one hand, Vader was proud of his son. On the other hand, Palpatine was growing increasingly concerned. If Luke was not captured, and soon, the senior Sith might well order Luke's execution.
That was unacceptable. Vader had planned for more than two decades to ascend to the Imperial Throne. He had hoped to have Padme at his side as Empress, but she had turned on him, betrayed and rejected him.
Now there was only Luke. The boy was full of power and glory and had only to be nudged to the Dark Side. Once they stood side by side, Palpatine would not be able to stand in their way. No one would be able to stand in their way. They would rule together as father and son, as it had always been meant to be.
The shuttle touched down with the skill expected from Vader's personal pilot, and the ramp lowered less than a second later. Vader's boots boomed as he hurried down the ramp, only to halt at their owner's surprise.
The landing bay was full of ships, most of them clearly on the verge of leaving. There were men and women, most in the outfits of Imperial technical staff, rushing to shuttles. Their fear was a grim beacon in the Force, but Vader was not interested in them. Only his son was of concern.
"Lord Vader!"
The Sith turned his attention on the blond Imperial captain rushing toward him.
"Captain ..."
"Meloon, my lord. The saboteurs have taken the command center, my lord. We're evacuating the station. You must leave, sir! It is not safe!"
"Take me to the command center immediately," Vader boomed. If there were insurgents breaking into high level Imperial facilities, Luke must be one of the party.
"My lord!"
"Do I need to repeat myself, Captain Meloon?"
He added a slight squeeze of the windpipe to his furious command, causing the captain to pale.
"Yes, my lord. This way, sir."
Vader strode eagerly after his guide, his Force sense questing, and finding, his son. Yes, Luke was indeed here. The boy was shielding like a master, but Vader could sense him growing closer by the meter. Finally, finally, he would have Luke in his grasp, and this time, his son would not escape.
The twosome turned the corner and came to a halt a few meters later. The command center of the complex was on the third floor of the building, and jutted out into space such that only one wall joined the building. Three walls, the floor, and the ceiling were hanging in mid air with special shield generators providing protection in all directions from attack.
The wall adjacent to the building itself was also transparisteel, and the door was a transparent force field. Standing directly on the other side of the force field was Luke Skywalker.
The boy was standing with a com in his ear and an unlit lightsaber in his hand. The Sith drank in the sight of his son; Luke was dressed in the unremitting black of an Imperial technician and he seemed, perhaps, a little thinner than when last they had met, but he looked reasonably healthy. The Dark Lord's keen eyes caught sight of a few bruises on the young face but other than that, the child seemed well enough. Behind Luke were the prone figures of five men, all of whom were still alive, though unconscious. It appeared that for whatever reason, Luke had spared their lives.
Vader really must train that compassionate streak out of his son as soon as possible. Compassion merely got one killed or emotionally devastated, or possibly both.
Vader took a step closer to Luke, who was standing ramrod straight, his expression cold. For a moment, father and son glared at one another through the Force field.
"Lord Vader."
The Sith did not bother looking to his right, where he sensed a new male human had approached.
"I am Director Zenta, administrator of this facility. I am so relieved that you are here, my lord."
"What is the situation?" he demanded.
"Sir," Zenta replied, his voice wavering nervously. "This male human, currently unidentified, infiltrated the command center and stunned all the technicians. He has managed to infiltrate the computer systems, my lord, and has locked us entirely out of the system. This command center was designed such that one man can hold his own against numerous aggressors. Therefore …"
He trailed off miserably and Vader scoffed aloud in a way which caused all those around him to shiver in their boots, "Therefore, he can hold us at bay for some time, can he not. Is there significant time pressure, Director?"
"I fear so, my lord. He is in contact with unknown colleagues who appear to controlling the systems from a remote location. The uranium stores are not stable, my lord, and we have been warned that the storage facility is compromised. It is possible the entire facility may ... may detonate."
"If it does, what will the results be?" Vader snapped harshly, his eyes on Luke's face. The boy's expression was completely blank and his mind was tightly shielded, which was extremely annoying.
"We have an unusually large quantity of uranium on site, Lord Vader," the director quavered. "A detonation would produce an incredible explosion, sufficient to destroy this facility. Indeed, the resultant radioactive fallout would eventually destroy most of this planet's ecosystem."
Vader stared at Luke, who glared back.
"My lord," the Director said nervously, "I have heard it said that you are able to … to …"
"Kill from a distance?" Luke suddenly commented, his eyes narrowed. "Usually, yes, but not this time."
"What are you doing, young one?" Vader demanded of Luke, stepping closer to the force field.
The young Jedi's chin tilted slightly but his expression did not change, nor did he speak. His eyes bored into his father's mask, finding the Sith's eyes with unnerving accuracy.
There was a sudden beep inside the control center, and Luke spoke into his com, "Go ahead."
There was a pause,
"Do it now. I'm trapped."
Another pause.
"No, Vader is here. Yes, Vader, and he is literally on the other side of the force field. Finish the sequence and then get out of here. Yes, I know, but I'm completely cut off. No, do not be a total idiot."
There was another pause and a moment later, there was a soft set of chimes from the instrumentation behind Skywalker. Three seconds later, every alarm in the facility went off with enough noise to waken the dead.
/
Palpatine Uranium Processing Facility
Dachat
17 hours earlier
Lon Nesk glared at his 'puter screen in bewilderment.
"What in all creation?" he muttered in frustration.
"Is something wrong, sir?"
Scientist Nesk looked up with a sigh, followed by a condescending smile. Bob was a human janitor, young, red haired, with protruding teeth, and a remarkable lack of intelligence. He had been working in the facility for only two weeks, but Nesk had developed what might be called a friendship with the young man. The scientist was not a warm hearted individual, but Bob was a cheerful soul and a pleasant companion. He was also a simple youth, which meant that Nesk could safely talk to him without fearing that the boy would stab him metaphorically, or even physically, in the back.
"Nothing really," he responded with a sigh, "or at least nothing that would make sense to you."
If there was one thing he was quite sure of, it was that Bob did not understand the complexities of the mining and refining of industrial uranium at Dachat.
Bob grinned and nodded, "I am sure, sir. But my aunt always told me that sometimes it helps to talk out loud about things that are puzzling. Sometimes when you talk, it makes more sense."
Nesk frowned at this thoughtfully. Of course this was all top secret material, but Bob had a security clearance since he worked here, and he was too stupid to understand anything that the scientist said anyway.
"That is a good idea, Bob," he said slowly. "I am very puzzled about these temperature readings from section C1 through D25 of the uranium storage tanks. According to the current probes, all the temps are within range, but I am running an old subroutine based on a previous set of probes which are no longer being used, and they are showing much higher temperatures. I was checking the old probes as part of an analysis of the longevity of such instrumentation. Perhaps the temperatures mean that they..."
He trailed off, pinching his chin thoughtfully.
"Maybe the old probes aren't working right, sir?" Bob suggested.
Nesk sighed and leaned against his chair, running a hand through his thinning black hair.
"That is really the only obvious answer, but I find it extremely bewildering. I could imagine one or two probes malfunctioning, but not all of them. They were installed fifteen years ago and should have lasted at least twenty years, probably closer to thirty. They are somewhat archaic, but they should work. I just checked the temps throughout entire storage facility and the temperature mapping from the old probes shows a significant deviation from norms, and the central area is close to the temperature danger zone ..."
He shook his head again and sighed, rising to his feet.
"I had best tell the Assistant Director," he said gloomily. "It is probably nothing, but ..."
"But when in doubt, check it out," Bob said with an idiotic grin. "That's what my aunt always said and it has to be true. It rhymes!"
"Quite, young man, quite," Nesk agreed condescendingly. Really, Bob was a fool. Only fools thought that something was true just because it rhymed.
/
Assistant Director Smit's office
1 hour later
"You say the temperature readings are high?" Assistant Director Smit asked curiously.
"Yes, sir," Nesk agreed. "I cannot account for it since the main probes are showing temperatures within normal parameters, but these old probes should still be functional. I thought I should mention it, sir, in case there is something wrong with the current probes, though I cannot imagine such a thing."
"Indeed," Smit commented, reaching into his drawer and grabbing his blaster, which he carefully switched to stun.
"The only thing that makes sense is that the current probes have some kind of a calibration problem?" Nesk murmured, his brow furrowed. "Even that seems impossible. Surely …"
He trailed away as Smit lifted a blaster, pointing it directly at his chest.
"Sir?" Nesk asked, his voice suddenly filled with fear.
Smit fired. The green stun bolt emerged in a perfect circle from the blaster barrel and struck the scientist in the chest, causing him to crumple to one side.
Smit hit a button and a moment later, an aide and two stormtroopers entered the room.
"Take him into the interrogation chamber in section 4," Smit ordered with a casual wave of his hand. "Also, copy his computer drives, then wipe his computer and search for any incriminating documents."
"Yes, sir," the aide replied obediently, gesturing to the stormtroopers, who walked forward and lifted the unconscious figure of Nesk with their armored arms. A moment later, they dragged the body out of the office.
Smit waited for his aide to leave, leaned back with a sigh, and snatched his com.
He typed in a number, waited a minute to be connected, and spoke with some urgency.
"We may have a problem."
/
Author Note: This is kind of a mystery, so you aren't supposed to understand quite what is going on yet! Many thanks to those of you who take time to read, follow, and review this story!
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Be sure to check out my books (not SW of course) on Amazon:
I am Jael
The Blind Will See
I have Been Jaeled
