Senior Lieutenant Bradan 'Hitman' Frost pulled up a chair to the small bar in the pilots lounge aboard the Legion. Normally, he wouldn't venture into the pilots lounge, but it currently was the only place serving drinks that contained alcohol. The bar in the Armed forces deployment area was locked down because of a mission that was due to launch soon for another unit. Because they needed to be completely sober for a mission, the bar would only serve synthesized drinks to anyone.
Not that that stopped the other pilots from going to any other bars on the ship, like he was, but the administrators didn't think like that. Pilots and troops were perfectly well mannered and obedient, they wouldn't do anything nearly as devious as simply move to a different bar.
He shook the thoughts out of his head as Kumara Karhn, known by other commandos as Fly, sat down next to him. His Gotal face was a little tight, and looked even more menacing than usual. " Couldn't get a drink at the other bar either, eh?" he asked. The Gotal snorted and shook his head.
"Don't even ask," was all he said.
"Yeah, those servant droids can be pretty annoying sometimes," he said after a sip of his drink. There was something the other wasn't telling him, though. He seemed frustrated, and not over something so simple as not being able to get a drink.
Maybe it was something to do with the Gotal distrust of droids. One of the most amazing things about Gotals were the small horns on top of their heads that served as sensors. They could detect light, radio, infrared, electromagnetic emissions and a whole host of other things. Being near droids tended to disrupt their senses, and so their natural reaction was caution or suspicion.
But Hitman could sense something else. He decided he would probe a little further. "Let me guess, girl trouble?" he asked. The Gotal snorted again.
"Not nearly so complicated. No, it's nothing really, I'm probably overreacting," he explained.
"To what?"
"Oh, it's just… I keep getting this background buzz in my sensors. Usually, I'm told that means I'm detecting the force nearby. But I don't see how that could be possible," he elaborated.
"Ah, I see. Well, what if you're not overreacting?" he suggested. The Gotal stared at him, confused.
"What?"
"Well, what if the force is nearby? What if Darthy is on the planet?" he explained. It wasn't a thought he wanted to entertain, but if it was a possibility that would have to be explored. If Darth Vader were on the planet, or the Emperor himself, then it meant there was something much bigger going down on Norval than they had originally thought. Also, they had a very good chance of capturing them.
"No, I don't think so. Why would Darth Vader be on that planet? It's out of the way and unimportant, not worthy of an appearance by the Dark Lord of the Sith," Fly reasoned.
"Still, it's a possibility. You're registering the force, so it has to be around here somewhere. Besides, if Darth Vader were here it would explain the Shadowtroopers," Hitman reasoned back.
"Maybe, but then I have never detected the force before. I know what I am sensing solely from what my parents and instructors have told me. And it doesn't necessarily explain the Shadowtroopers. I mean, why Shock Commandos? Why not Sovereign Protectors?" Fly said. "Well, it doesn't mean Darth Vader was at that particular garrison. Maybe he's somewhere else on the planet. Somewhere that we haven't scouted yet. Or maybe it isn't Darth Vader, but only a Sovereign Protector. They can use the force, right?" Sovereign protectors were the soldiers hand picked by Darth Vader and the Emperor to be their personal agents. They were chosen for their fitness, stamina, strength and a multitude of other things. Then Vader would proceed to teach them the ways of the Sith, though the Protectors were seldom able to absorb more than the most basic abilities.
"I still don't buy it. Why would a sovereign protector be at the garrison if Vader or the Emperor weren't? And above all of this, if Vader is here, then why isn't the Executor tearing us to shreds right now?" Hitman sat back, defeated.
"Okay, fair enough. But if you don't mention this to the General, or the captain at least, I'm going to do it myself. Consider that an order." The Gotal nodded.
"Yes, sir," he acknowledged. Right at that moment, the other four subordinates of the 13th elite guard entered the bar together. They all had smiles on their faces and were chatting loudly.
"Hey, there they are! I told you they'd have found a bar somewhere. I'm telling you, Gotals can detect alcohol with those horns, too," Kerren 'Slicer' Tassidus announced across the lounge. Fly put his hands up, seemingly over his anxiousness.
"Okay, you've found me out. But at least I'll never loose my way to your mother's house," he shot back. Slicer raised his hands too, only his were raised in an offensive combat position.
"Hey, what have I told you about talking about my mother?" he taunted mockingly. Some nearby pilots listening in laughed as well as the commandos.
"Alright, you lot, calm down. It's time for the unit commendations now. And maybe we can start for the award for greatest dead weight.
"With two shots fired, no hits and managing to take a laser graze to the shoulder, please congratulate Slicer!" he announced. Slicer stood up from the bar stool and took a formal bow. "He also receives the luckiest man alive award for accidentally penetrating an air vent and forcing three storm commandos out from cover to make them easy pickings for the Captain.
"Biggest mess made award goes to Gunner again for demolishing a moderately sized building to take out a single trooper. Congratulations," he said. Gunner stood to take a bow, and also made a small speech.
"Thankyou, thankyou. Our only regret is that we could blow the building to pieces to make for a more interesting light show," he bellowed in his Thakwaash voice.
"Honestly, you demolition boys. Do you have to blow everything up?" Jade asked sarcastically. Gunner gave her what passed as a Thakwaash wry smile.
"We don't have to blow everything up, we just like to," he quoted the tagline of all demolition specialists everywhere. Hitman continued.
"Next award is for biggest showoff: for her shoot-one-while-fly-kicking-the-other maneuver, congratulate Swift," he indicated the young woman with his arm. More applause from the commandos was halted by a nagging beep from all of their pockets. Hitman yanked out his comlink, and thumbed it on.
"Please report to the hangar bay. Your transport off-ship leaves in thirty minutes and is now boarding," the female voice of the administrator said over the comm. He placed the comlink back, and stood quickly.
"Oops. I forgot about that. Everyone: get your stuff and get to the hangar bay now!" he said urgently. He took off from the bar at full speed, the remainder of the unit behind him.
* * *
The Lord Darth Vader stood as rigid as his years of military experience allowed him. He had his hands clasped behind his back, underneath the long flowing cape he wore. Directly in front of him was a large wall screen which was displaying various images of the city of Norval .
Those Images had not changed in the last half hour, though Vader knew that they would. Any time now, a rebel patrol was bound to send a reconnaissance team to the capital city of this continent. And when they did, They would have an adequate demonstration prepared to announce the Empire's presence in the city. In fact, they would have an adequate demonstration prepared to utterly annihilate a small army.
The rebels had launched an attack on the secondary garrison they had erected on a completely different continent. Once they had found it, their anti-air cannons had destroyed the reconnaissance flights. Since that attack had been launched, the Rebels had had to wait a week before backup forces arrived in the form of a single attack frigate in orbit. He knew that the garrison wouldn't fall, but that the frigate would have it's own scout craft, and would hence tumble into the presence of Norval base.
When they did arrive, his forces would stage the most valiant fight the rebels had ever seen to defend the base. Backup forces from other areas of the Empire would also be called to defend the base. Hopefully, when the frigate in orbit was destroyed by the Imperial Star Destroyers en-route, the Rebels would conclude they had found a major Imperial base.
Which, of course, they hadn't. Norval base was expendable, erected only to keep the uprisings of the locals in check. It wasn't until Vader had learned of the imminent liberation attempt on Norval did he hatch this elaborate trap.
It was their best chance to destroy the rebellion since it's appearance. It also required use of Darth Vader's new flagship, the Executor. The plan itself was simple: make the rebels assume they had found a major base, or that there was something here the Empire didn't want them to find. Let them jump to the wrong conclusion and send in their entire war fleet to attack the star destroyers in orbit, and rally their ground forces to eliminate the base. Only when they arrived would they find out just how outnumbered and outgunned they were, and just how dead they were.
It was just the sort of trap Darth Vader loved to fabricate: lots of killing for minimal losses. Now, he only awaited the Rebellion's reconnaissance flight. He was approached hesitantly by a junior lieutenant, who stood uneasily at attention and waited to be acknowledged. Vader turned slowly.
"Yes, lieutenant?" he asked in his inhumanly deep and amplified voice. The lieutenant stuttered a little.
"My Lord, I-I'm afraid the squadron of Storm Commandos that were stationed at the Kinj Garrison have failed to transmit their routine report. It should have been sent two standard hours ago," he reported. Vader lifted his head higher, drawing himself to full height and dwarfing the younger officer.
"Why was this not reported sooner?" he asked, an edge to his voice.
"Well, sir, we-we," he began. He was waved quietly by a sweep of Vader's arm, who was suddenly angered by the man's incompetence.
"Has there been any communication with the garrison since then?" he asked. The lieutenant was visually trembling now.
"Negative, sir. The last communication indicated that the battle was progressing steadily in their favor," he explained.
"And when was that?"
"Shortly before the Storm Commandos were due to report," he said. Vader lowered his head, and took a deep breath. When he raised his head again, he saw the lieutenant sweating. He wasn't surprised, men often sweated when they were denied oxygen.
"Lieutenant, do you realise the extent of your actions?" he asked, the other man steadily weakening and gripping his throat. Vader continued "In future, I expect anomalies like this to be reported immediately. Am I making myself clear to you?" he asked. The lieutenant did the only thing he could, and nodded. "Good. Now contact the garrison and ask for an update," he ordered, releasing his force grip on the man and pointing to the communications console.
Struggling with his breath and reduced strength, the officer pulled himself up to the control boards. He had to wait a few minutes before his breath and voice returned. Then he activated the comm. "Base to Kinj Garrison, please update on your current situation." He ordered. When there was no response, he began frantically scanning readouts and gauges. Vader could guess what was happening.
"Report, lieutenant," he said. The lieutenant looked up, his look one of pure despair.
"That frequency has been locked out, my Lord," he said. Vader nodded, and raised his hand. He injected as much menace into his voice that he felt appropriate.
"That is the most unfortunate piece of news that you could have received, lieutenant," he stated. This time, he did not release the force grip on the man's throat.
* * *
"Leader we are approaching the city. Scanners are at full. I put us there in four minutes," Lightfoot three reported from the front of the formation. Their flight of Y-wings had been ordered to make a single pass of the capital city on the Continent of Norval, and then return to base. Intelligence was supposedly not expecting there to be any major resistance there.
"Affirmative, three," the report from leader came back. He switched to command frequency, though his voice was still broadcast to his cockpit. "Command this is Lightfoot flight. We are approaching the objective from the east. ETA is four minutes. Lightfoot out," he said. Three cleared his scanners, and set them for maximum range. The sensor packages on a Y-wing were not the top of the line, and compared to other ships they left the Y-wing blinded. But still, they should have a fairly good chance against whatever minimal resistance the Empire would have at the city.
The first warning sign was a single warning blip on his sensors. It was an aerial signal, signifying a flying craft. They weren't close enough to get an ID on it yet, nor were the sensors good enough to relay the profile. They'd just have to guess.
"Leader, three. I am picking up a target, directly ahead. It's heading more or less in our direction. No ID yet, but probably a fighter judging from the speed," he said. Leader responded shortly afterward.
"I see it, three. All ships in attack formation. Do not fire until it is confirmed unfriendly. Follow me in for a pass," he ordered. Three throttled back and let leader pull in front of him. He also saw the maneuver that took them into an intercept course for the unknown fighter.
The second warning sign was the narrow tunnel that the surrounding buildings created, which was precisely where the intercept course led them. Three dismissed it as coincidence right up to the point where his sensors exploded with red blips.
"Leader! We have got fighters all over the place! I'm reading Imperial TIE fighters and…looks like assault gunboats!" three shouted.
"Copy! All fighters break by pairs and engage the fighters at your discretion. Make sure you-" his transmission abruptly ended. Three scanned his sensors and saw leader's light fade out. That couldn't have been right. The fighters weren't in range of their craft yet…and then he saw it. On the ground, arranged like a firewall to stop aircraft, were fifteen Imperial mobile SAM launchers. The deadly vehicles were highly dangerous to flying craft with their missiles that were capable of destroying a Y-wing in one shot.
The green lights on his sensor board were blinking out steadily, and it wasn't long before he found only two others were left. He was now also the ranking officer. "Lightfoot! Pull out! Get back to base immediately and report this to command! Go, go, go!" he shouted. But he knew his time had probably run out, the fighters were now among them.
Hoping to get a little back on these Imperial vermin, he pulled up sharply and armed his missile launchers. He kept the stick pressed to his chest and waited until he was completely inverted. His inertial compensator went crazy, unable to cope with the sudden maneuver, and he felt himself being pinned to his chair, the g-forces nearly overwhelming. Just a little further and… there.
Two TIE fighters were directly in his flight path. Not bothering to get a lock, he fired a dual-linked pair of missiles at the centre of the fighters. At a proximity of fifteen metres, the missiles exploded, and the two TIE fighters vanished with the cloud of fire that resulted. The remaining fighters seemed daunted by this, and hung slightly back. He seized the opportunity and decided to make an escape. If he could.
He swung his nose around, facing any direction that took him away from the ground cannons, and slammed his throttle lever down all the way. He then switched his comm unit over to command frequency and reported in.
"Command, this is Lightfoot three. We have come under heavy fire, and have taken casualties. Leader is dead. Mark our position and bombard it to hell! Three out," he said frantically. He noticed that within the few seconds he had turned his comm over and now, three fighters were beginning to close on him fast. There wasn't much he could do. He was heavily outgunned, by an enemy that could easily outmaneuver him. Not a good situation. There was, however, one thing he could do.
As if a mirror image of his previous maneuver, he brought his nose around to head back into the fight area. The TIE's were taken by surprise, and flew right by him. Their less than aerodynamic design made it impossible for them to match his sharp turn. Throttling up to full, he blasted back to the ground to air cannons.
The second he caught sight of them, they opened fire, sending bolts of dangerous energy sizzling toward him. He centered his targeting brackets over the middle gun, and reached for his ejection lever. Now it didn't matter if he got hit, those guns were doomed.
Yanking back on the lever, he felt himself being propelled strongly into the air, and for a few moments had a spectacular, uninterrupted view of the battle field. He saw his Y-wing plowing into the ground in the center of the gun formations, and immediately thereafter exploding into a brilliant fireworks display. He allowed himself a moment of smugness before he passed out from the g-forces.
* * *
"All Y-wings down, my lord. One pilot ejected. Do we retrieve or exterminate?" the Ensign behind a control board asked. Lord Vader merely watched the screen displays, overlooking the damage done to his anti air guns. The Damage wasn't irreparable, nor was it critical. Rather, it was an inconvenience that would be expensive to remedy.
"Retrieve the pilot and keep him under high security. Assign our best interrogator droid to extract all the information that is possible from him," he ordered. The ensign nodded and logged the order. Vader returned his gaze to the screens.
"Major Vendt?" Lord Vader asked. Though he couldn't see the Major, he could sense his sudden anxiety. He could understand being addressed by a dark lord of the Sith would be daunting. "What report have you from the fleet?" he asked, his voice seeming louder than normal because of the silence in the control room. The Major took a second to compose an answer.
"They should be arriving momentarily to dispatch the orbiting frigate, sir," the Major reported. Vader nodded, satisfied - only barely - by the answer.
"Alert me when they do," he said. Examining the screens one last time, observing the troop carrier moving out through the heavily guarded doors to recover the rebel pilot, he turned slowly. He deliberately let his cape flow smoothly, guiding it with the force so that it was much more graceful than was humanly possible. He took heavy and emphasized steps that echoed through the room, in the silence sounding like an antique clock. As he approached the doors, he didn't stop and wait for them to fully open, rather kept his pace steady and strolled through them. Displays like this were a constant reminder to the officers on duty of his control and unquestionable power. Displays that he had no objection of putting on at regular intervals.
The corridor outside was mostly empty, with only a handful of Stormtroopers on routine patrol and sentry duty. They all saluted as Vader walked past, a salute which Vader expected and did not return.
He would be leaving this world soon, and heading back to Coruscant to receive new orders from the Emperor. Whilst he had the utmost confidence that his troops would have no trouble in carrying out the ambush, he still needed someone whom he trusted personally and displayed more than ample confidence to oversee the operation. The man who would control the space battle was arriving with the first wave of Star Destroyers. The man who would take Vader's place on the ground was meditating as instructed in his own chamber.
Vader approached that door now, which opened automatically for him. Inside he found complete darkness with the exception of several holographic candles in the central platform of the room. There, shrouded behind the dark, hooded uniform of all Field Sovereign Protectors, was the closest thing Vader ever had to a protégé. He was exceptionally strong with the force for a non-Jedi, and showed great promise in the Emperor's New Order.
As the cloaked figure noticed Vader's arrival, the holographic candles ceased and the room's normal lighting activated. He stood immediately at attention. "My Lord," he said in his low voice, followed by a bow of respect.
"Stand easy, Protector," Vader told the other man. He waited until he could sense the other's full attention, and then continued. "The time is growing near for your service, Aerthor. I will be leaving the system soon to travel to Coruscant. I trust you are prepared to take command of my forces?" Vader queried. The Sovereign protector straightened even further.
"I am ready, My Lord," he stated. Vader nodded.
"Good. The rebel attack will be strong. Their history when it comes to avenging fallen comrades is one of impressive consistency," he told him.
"Though they may try, they will not defeat us, my Lord. However motivated, they are no match for the force," Aerthor said. Vader sensed that the words were genuine, and accepted the response.
For a moment, Vader looked at the Sovereign Protector. This was a man he had trained personally in the ways of the Sith. A man who had even impressed the Emperor with his force skills. A man who was so adept in the Sith arts that he was borderline Jedi. Men with skills like Aerthor's were extremely rare in this galaxy, and were an asset to the Empire. Vader could not have been more reassured that the operation would succeed if he were in direct command. Yes, Aerthor would make this ambush work.
"I am glad you believe so. However, do not make the critical error of underestimating the enemy. They may not be as well equipped and well trained as the Empire, but the Rebellion will not give up easily. Most, if not all of their warriors have absolutely nothing to loose. Men who have nothing to loose are the most dangerous adversaries." Aerthor nodded his head, letting a little light through the gap in the hood. His mauve eyes reflected the light in the room, giving him a very evil impression.
"I understand that, my Lord. And the rebels will not be underestimated by myself or any others under my command. Should that happen, I shall see fit to discipline them," he said.
"I also have a secondary objective I want you to see to personally. There is a man, a Rebel commando, named Hilt Bel Iblis. You have heard of him?" Vader asked.
"Brother of Garm Bel Iblis. Supposedly killed at Anchoron when his family suffered a similar fate," he confirmed.
"Supposedly. Apparently, Imperial intelligence allowed their efficiency to lapse in that case. Hilt Bel Iblis was the man most directly responsible for the loss of our Kinj garrison," he said, getting back to the subject immediately. Aerthor seemed a little surprised.
"I was not aware that we lost our Kinj garrison," he said. Vader nodded, but ignored the statement.
"I want him dead. He leads a commando unit that will no doubt make a strike against this base. When he does, you will be ready for him," Vader said.
"Will they not be killed when their command ship is destroyed?" Aerthor asked.
"They are no longer aboard the orbiting vessel. But they will return, and when they do, you shall be ready for them," Vader commanded.
"As you wish, my Lord," Aerthor gave a quick bow with his head.
"Be wary. He is a formidable warrior, as is the rest of his unit. They are incredibly resourceful, and have a unique ability to turn unfavorable situations their way. On top of this, he has nothing to loose." Vader could sense the confidence in Aerthor.
"I look forward to the challenge, my Lord."
"And I am certain you shall succeed, Protector. The Emperor has expressed an explicit interest in this operation. Should it succeed, you are most likely to benefit greatly from it," he told him. Not that the promise of reward or preferential treatment ever mattered to a guardsmen or Sovereign protector, knowing that the Emperor was interested in his performance had to provide some extra incentive. That conclusion was reflected in Aerthor's smile.
"I will do my best to create an impression, my Lord," he said. At that moment, the comlink in Vader's helmet beeped at him.
"Lord Vader, there is a report from the fleet. They have arrived in-system and are in position to engage the frigate. Orders?" the voice of Ensign Vendt asked.
"Engage them. No mercy, no prisoners," he ordered. He shut down the comm before the ensign could acknowledge. Then he gestured to Aerthor.
"Come now, Aerthor. You are required to take command of our forces," Vader said with a gesture of his arm. Without a word, the two black-clad figures left the room, and headed to the war room.
* * *
On the Bridge of the Imperial Star Destroyer Dark Matter, Admiral Teshik waited patiently for the go-ahead from the Lord Darth Vader to engage the frigate Legion. He felt completely relaxed and confident he would succeed. Not only in this initial engagement - which he felt a civilian could win. Three star destroyers against a single assault frigate - but in the campaign he was assigned as a whole. If Lord Vader's plan went by design, the rebellion would be dealt a glancing blow.
Just how glancing that blow would be, not even the Emperor could foresee. That was the only flaw Teshik could find in Vader's plan. The Rebellion could not be counted on to jump in the expected direction. An all out attack was one of the possible courses of action the Rebellion could take. There were a whole host of others that did not provide an acceptable outcome for this campaign.
It all came down, Teshik had decided, to whom made the decision when the information was delivered. If the current rebel leader, Mon Mothma, were responsible for the decision, Teshik knew that all this effort would be for nothing. Though Mon Mothma was a good leader and an excellent diplomat, she had no real military skill, and would hence come to the decision that was diplomatically the best. In this case, it would be to pull out all the forces and leave Norval strictly alone.
However, if the decision went to the leader of the special ground forces General Garlinn Harper, then he was sure that a very large portion of Rebel ground forces and warships would be knocked out. Harper had a tendency to ruthlessly attack enemies that had killed his own forces. This was a habit that had ultimately resulted in more of his ground forces being killed.
Those two were the only officers Imperial Intelligence knew of whom were capable of making the decision, but he was certain there were more. The outcome of this deception would take some time to determine.
"Sir, Norval base says go ahead. They remind us to take no prisoners," the Captain of the Dark Matter announced in his direction. "Excellent," Teshik responded immediately. "Bring us to full power and open fire with all turbolaser batteries at maximum range. Lock tractor beams at the earliest opportunity. All ships to launch fighters to slow it's retreat, aggressive attack pattern," he ordered. His voice was slightly raised, and he was speaking quickly. Shortly after he issued the commands, the bridge filled with shouts of various statistics and status reports. A red light also flashed and a small alarm warbled softly in the background.
Teshik observed the rapidly retreating frigate, and privately wondered why it was doing so much more slowly than the ship was capable of. Or rather, ships of the same model were capable of.
He anticipated the reason a moment before it spewed from the hangar bays at top speed. Three full squadrons of T-65 fighters were now added to the fight. Teshik frowned. The distraction of X-wing starfighters might prevent the TIE's from slowing the frigate's escape.
"Captain, launch the Dark Matter's TIE bombers. They are to take down the frigate's engines or take it down completely," he ordered. He had hoped to keep the bombers out of the fight and minimize his losses, but now he didn't have any choice. The TIE bombers were the only craft that could be within range and have a chance of taking down the frigate.
He watched as the bulky, awkward looking craft lumbered out of the hangar bays and over the hull on his tac-visual screen. "Order one squadron of interceptors to fly cover for the bombers. I don't want them damaged before the objective is complete," he ordered. Yes, that would provide them with adequate cover. Even if enough X-wings survived the initial head to head engagement to be a threat to the bombers, they would not survive long enough to do significant harm.
The bombers passed through the center of the dogfight without too many problems, and were very quickly within range of their warheads. At six kilometers from the frigate, Teshik saw the blue, sleek looking warheads streak away from the bombers and close in on the frigate.
The first half dozen torpedoes completely collapsed the rear shields of the frigate, the second six made a mess of anything that could possibly drive the ship forward. All in all, a highly efficient bombing run. He would have to commend that bomber squadron when they arrived back from the fight.
It wasn't long before the Dark Matter was within the range of it's own weapons, and the space between the frigate and the star destroyers became a dazzling light show of turbo fire. Two minutes and thirty-three seconds later, all Rebel targets were destroyed.
Teshik smiled a broad smile as he reviewed the statistics for the mission. Thirty-six alliance fighters destroyed for zero Imperial TIE's, and a frigate destroyed cleanly without even getting a shot off at the destroyers.
"Inform Lord Vader," he said proudly, "that the objective is complete."
* * *
"Lord Vader, report from the fleet. Objective complete: orbiting ship destroyed. No survivors." Ensign Vendt announced with what sounded like relief. Or rather, what felt through the force like relief to Aerthor. He concentrated a little harder, and confirmed his suspicions.
His skill with the force was not great, though he was stronger than most other Sovereign protectors. He was strong enough to anticipate enemy actions to a certain degree, almost like a danger sensor that alerted him to threat. He was also twenty five percent faster than a normal human, and could move small objects with high skill, and large objects with moderate skill. Physical powers were his expertise, not the mental abilities that allowed him to influence another's thoughts or control them completely. Like his master could.
He admired Lord Vader greatly, and did his best to model his behavior on the Dark Lord's. True it sometimes wasn't as effective as coming from a two meter tall Sith Warrior, but it was effective enough.
He suspected, and to a small amount sensed, that Vader had some sort of special relationship with him. He spent much more time in training with him, and always trusted him like a personal aid. Or maybe, he thought, like a son. As far as Aerthor knew, Vader never had a son that he could train and sculpt in his image. Maybe he was the closest he could ever come.
Which was perfectly understandable. Even though he knew Vader would never admit to it, not even mentally, he could understand why he would want to substitute him for a son. The most foreboding image in the galaxy couldn't just go about and make time for a family. That's an entertaining thought: Darth Vader - sensitive husband and loving father.
"Good. Inform Admiral Teshik that I will be reporting to his flagship in no less than an hour. Make sure a transport to Coruscant is ready when I arrive," he ordered. Vader turned from the Ensign and back to Aerthor.
"You will be leaving now, my Lord?" he asked.
"The Emperor has requested my presence. The Thirteen Project is drawing to a close and requires my direction." Aerthor didn't know what the thirteen project was, but could sense Vader wanted to keep it that way. "Remember, Aerthor: this mission is of the utmost importance. Victory means greater things, failure will lead to death. One way or another," Vader cautioned. Through the menacing warning Vader had put on for the other officers, Aerthor could detect - though only slightly - a tinge of remorse in the Sith Lord's thoughts.
"I will not fail you, my Lord," Aerthor said confidently.
"I know you wont. You have command, Protector," Vader announced so that everyone in the war room would hear. Then he turned, and with his trademark inhuman grace, left the room in the direction of the hangar bays. Aerthor took a deep breath. Time to make an impression.