Star Wars Infinities: The Warrior

By Christopher W. Blaine (darth_yoshi@yahoo.com)

DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by George Lucas and are used herein without permission for fan-related, non-profit entertainment purposes only. This original work of fiction is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine and may not be reproduced in part or as a whole without the express permission of the author.

CHAPTER 26

The Remarkable, an older Victory-Class star destroyer, once the hallmark of the Republic Navy, reverted to real space at the edge of the Endor system. The commanding officer, a man whose service record indicated that he was from Imperial Center, smiled as another successful hyperspace jump was completed. "Gun crews to their stations!" the executive officer called out.

The ship went to general quarters and the captain moved briskly over to stand next to General Madine. "Are you ready?" the naval officer asked. The bearded general, his rank insignia now old enough to have gotten dusty yet, smiled.

"Proceed with the operation, Captain."

The captain nodded and pointed to the communications officer, who nodded. A channel was open between the star destroyer and the construction project looming over the forest moon of Endor. "Death Star Site Bravo, this is the VSD Remarkable."

There was a pause and then a young sounding voice replied. "Uh, this is Site Bravo, go ahead."

"We are under orders from Grand Moff Tarkin to assume command of this facility. We are being pursued by loyalist forces and require aid in fending them off." Tarkin had already staffed the second Death Star project with his own people. The new Death Star under construction was even more massive than its older brother, a full forty kilometers larger at the equator. It was still nothing more than a skeleton in many places, barely visible from the distance the Remarkable was cruising.

"Understood. I have been authorized to inform you that the Conquest and the Slayer are going to head out full speed to your position. Fighter patrols are being launched now."

The captain smiled and nodded. The communications officer in turn replied. "Very good. We believe we have an hour jump on the loyalists. They are composed of elements of the Fifth Fleet that were supposed to be put under the command of General Madine."

A new voice came over the speaker. "Is General Madine with you?"

Crix hurried over to the comms station. "This is General Madine."

"Sir, the orders of your promotion have been received. The station is yours."

Crix thanked the speaker and then cut the transmission. He looked at the Captain and smiled. The two of them had been working on this plan for a very long time. Crix Madine had long ago become disgusted with the way his homeworld had faired under the New Order. An officer in the Imperial Special Forces, he had considered joining up with the Rebellion, offering his special skills for use against his former masters.

Garm Bel Iblis had another idea, a plan that was the ultimate test of Crix's ability to blend in. Through various political connections, Bel Iblis had managed to get Crix posted to the Death Star and it was there his "loyalty" to the Tarkin and his ideals had put him on the fast track to promotion.

The captain of the Remarkable was from Chandrilla, an agent of Mon Mothma and a man itching to get revenge for the destruction of his homeworld. Unknown to Tarkin and the rest of the Imperial military, Crix and the captain had arranged for all officers and crew aboard the Remarkable that had a pro-Imperial stance to take a walk in space.

Though undermanned, the Remarkable was still a powerful vessel and with two Imperial-class star destroyers conveniently coming to their aid, several vessels under Tarkin's command were about to become space dust. "We've picked up the other star destroyers making full sublight to our position, sir!" called the sensor officer.

Crix looked up at the chronometer. "I'll need a private channel to the construction site. I need to explain exactly what is going on and make it believable."

The captain nodded. "Don't worry, General; three star destroyers can take on the Fifth, especially when they aren't flying under combat orders." The Endor site was believed to be unknown to the Rebel Alliance and Tarkin was sure that no fleets were within operating distance of it except for the token force he kept there to guard it. With a second Death Star, set to be operational in another three years, Tarkin would be the true master of the galaxy.

The people of Corellia had another thought in mind. "We also need to get the flash message to Yavin." Their ultimate goal was to have the Rebel Alliance assume control of the Death Star project, but not to build a space station. "It won't take long for Tarkin to send out another battle group after we report the defection and death of the Fifth."

And it was at that moment that they realized they were fully committed to the treason they were about to engage in. There was no hesitation, no second thoughts as Crix exited the bridge with his naval trooper escort. For months the Rebellion had been hoping to gain access to this site, especially after they realized its existence through Crix's position.

The super-laser of the second Death Star would be the perfect weapon to use against Tarkin's own station. There had been other flaws in the original design, by Admiral Thrawn had seen them and ordered corrections to be made. Not so long ago it would have been possible to destroy the entire station with a pair of proton torpedoes!

Thrawn had discovered that the fusion reactor exhaust ports were not properly defended against such an attack and it was, in theory, possible to send starfighters in to deliver the lethal payload. Tarkin had dismissed the idea, but Thrawn had ordered the proper changes to the design anyway. When Tarkin had found out that Thrawn had gone behind his back, he had begun his efforts to get the alien admiral reassigned.

Now, they needed fire to fight fire; water wouldn't do anymore. Crix Madine had been given the task of infiltrating the second Death Star construction project, though he had never dreamed that Tarkin would grow to trust him so much as to give him command! It was, hopefully, Tarkin's fatal error.

Crix entered his private suite where a young ensign was busy hooking up a secure link. Because of the distance between Yavin and Endor, there was no way to have a face-to-face conversation with General Reinkan, the commanding officer of Yavin Base. Instead, Crix would have make a detailed message and send it off in an encrypted pack that would be relayed from satellite to satellite.

Given current conditions, solar winds and probable upkeep of the relays, it was estimated that it would take a little over a week for the message to get through. The largest obstacle was the relays. Instead of military satellites, Crix had to use civilian ones set up by Black Sun. "Any thoughts, Ensign?" Crix asked.

The young officer, Alderaanian by birth the general guessed from the dark hair and eyes, gulped. "I don't understand the question, sir."

Crix smiled. "At ease, Ensign; I don't want you going into cardiac arrest while your entering the encryption code."

The officer nodded and went back to work on a datapad. "I was wondering what you thought about news of the Emperor's death."

The news had been received with a wary eye by most of the officers on board. The Emperor might have been dead, but there were still plenty of people wanting to sit on his throne. News of the new Lord Ravage sounded to many like a trick. The Emperor got to his position by playing mind games with the public; it wouldn't have surprised many on the vessel that this Lord Ravage was really the Emperor himself in disguise, trying to ferret out Tarkinists in his own regime.

Tarkin's betrayal of the Emperor had not been a shock either, but the assumption that he would have orchestrated the death of Palpatine seemed impossible. Palpatine had the loyalty of too many in Imperial Intelligence; Tarkin was loved by the ground-pounders, which is what made his coup so damaging. Even if ship's officer's resisted the urge to join in the coup, the common soldiers and sailors may not. A ship is run by its men, not by the whims of its officers!

"I don't know what to think, sir. For my entire life, there has always been the Empire," the ensign said, pausing in his work. There was a sad look in his eyes as he spoke. "I suppose I always equated the Empire to the Emperor. With Governor Tarkin's actions and the Emperor's death, I can't help but be a little afraid of what comes next. I've heard the stories of the Old Republic and the Jedi corruption, but I also know that Darth Deceptra murdered the royal family…"

"So, you've joined the Rebellion for revenge?" Crix asked. It always interested him in the motives of his men, especially junior officers. Here was, if the young man survived, the future leadership of the galaxy.

"Yes, sir; I'm sorry it isn't as noble as some of the other reasons the others are giving…"

Shaking his head, Crix corrected the man. "Don't apologize. Revenge is why I'm in this as well. I have no love for the Old Republic either, but I barely remember it. I was more concerned with my own home."

The ensign nodded and smiled. "Isn't that what it comes down to, sir? It isn't about galaxy-wide peace; it's about protecting your home and family. You can't take care of the galaxy's problems until you take care of the ones at home."

Crix decided right then that he liked this young officer and made a mental note to talk to the captain about having him reassigned to his personal staff.

"We must part ways here," Luke said. Both he and Soontir Fel were standing next to the Lambda-class shuttle that had been their home for the last few days since their escape. The shuttle was put down in the center of an old freighter graveyard on Corellia, one of thousands that dotted the planet now. "I have to go to Imperial Center; my duties as a Sith take precedence over anything here."

"I thought you wanted revenge on Tarkin," Fel said, hoping he could convince the younger man to stay. Luke had made it perfectly clear during their time together that with Tarkin's coup, their status had changed dramatically.

"I do, but my first duty is to my master…my mother," Luke commented. He saw Soontir nod slightly. "My mother favors you; I offer you the chance to come with me. You are a Hero of the Empire…"

"And my first duty is to protect the Empire's worlds, like Corellia. You are right, of course, as a Sith, you must return to Imperial Center." He sighed. "You are a brave man, Luke Skywalker."

Luke chuckled. "And you are a stubborn son of a bitch. This world is lost, Baron; in time, Tarkin will either subjugate it or destroy it and then your life will be wasted! What good is that? You have everything waiting you on Imperial Center. Power. Prestige. My mother."

"And you are so sure that this Lord Ravage, this son of Palpatine, is going to welcome you with open arms? How do you know he didn't kill the Emperor?" He shook his head and kicked at a rock. "If there is a line of succession, shouldn't it be your mother who takes the throne? Wasn't she the apprentice to the Emperor?"

Luke turned his head, unwilling to listen. Ever since they had landed and received news of Palpatine's death, he had been itching to leave. Only the patrols from the Death Star prevented them from leaving, but Luke had finally figured out their pattern and was confident he could get through them. "We will not get any answers here," he finally said.

"You're so hot to rush off into danger, you know that? From what I've been told, you have a lot of your father in you," Fel blurted out. Luke gave him a cold look, but said nothing. "This could be nothing more than a trap set up by Tarkin to draw you and your mother in. Have you talked with her?"

"I cannot reach her and she is too far away for me to contact through the Force," Luke said. Fel realized that the younger man was somehow ashamed that he did not have the power to do what had been so easy for Palpatine. He offered Fel one more chance to join him. "Come with me; don't throw your life away!"

"Stay with me and make a difference," Fel replied. "This is the Empire, too!"

"Not my Empire. Let Tarkin have this world for now; we will return…"

Fel laughed and threw his head back. "With what? Your lightsaber? That's a moon-sized battle station up there, Skywalker! All of the ship's in the Imperial fleet couldn't put a dent in that thing!"

"Do not underestimate the power of the Force," Luke warned him.

Fel threw up his hands. "Fine! Go to Imperial Center! Be a first class Sith flunky! I thought the New Order was about protecting the people, not pursuing personal glory!"

Luke laughed this time. "Go protect you people, Fel. Go!"

Fel felt the presence enter his mind and he had no choice but to turn and start running. He didn't stop until two hours later when Luke had jumped into hyperspace, leaving his former commanding officer alone on a dying world.

Fel blinked and sunlight burned its way into his brain, revitalizing his senses and reminding him of the pain he was in. He remembered being attacked after he had stupidly answered to his name and rank. He should have known he would have been recognized; his face had been put everywhere on his home planet. More people on Corellia knew what Soontir Fel looked like than knew the face of the Emperor.

He sniffed the air and realized he was underground, but the scent of spiced cakes was heavy in the air as well. He hadn't had real Corellian fare in such a long time that his stomach began to dance from the memories the odors conjured. He sat up and realized that he was in a cell. From the sounds coming from above, he guessed he was under a restaurant.

He had made his way to a nearby settlement and discovered that except for area frequented by the Imperials, most of the town was poverty-stricken and destitute. From the conversations, he gathered that the rebellion was not so string here and only a token force of security police was kept to maintain the peace.

Fel had seen a broken people when he looked upon his fellow Corellians. The spirit of individuality that had made them famous in the galaxy was missing from the citizens of this small hamlet. People were begging in the streets and all of the businesses, save for those that again served the Imperials, were boarded up and abandoned. This particular town used to produce many components for hyperdrives, but with all of the shipbuilding contracts going to Kuat and Seinar, there was nothing for these people to do except slowly starve.

"Well, well, we got us a real hero," a voice said. Fel recognized it as the one that had called to him before the assault. It belonged to a Bothan with tan colored fur. Behind him stood two more of the feline-like aliens. Bothans were strongly suspected of collaborating with the Rebel Alliance, but Imperial Intelligence had not been able to gather enough information to make any worthwhile arrests yet.

"I demand to be released," Fel said half-heartedly. He didn't believe they would, but there was no sense in not trying. "I am an Imperial officer…"

"Which is exactly why we've locked you up, human," the Bothan leader told him with a feral grin.

Fel shrugged. "Fine. Are you going to torture me, because if you are, just forget it. I don't know anything and I'm not very valuable anymore."

"Oh, I don't know about that," another voice said. Fel felt the chills run down his spine. The voice carried the same accent that his wife had used when she wasn't in front of the holocams.

Wedge Antilles, dressed in the clothes of a farmer, stepped out from behind the burly Bothan guards and faced his brother-in-law. "Soontir."

"Wedge."

Wedge took in a deep breath. "You understand that I have orders to kill you if you don't cooperate."

Fel cocked his head to the side. "How is it that someone who never saw fit to join the military could be taking orders? That requires some sort of commitment to something besides the almighty credit."

"Is that what you think? You think I'm some sort of smuggler? Did my sister ever bother to tell you that I was the one helping keep the family business afloat?"

Fel stood up and approached the bars of his cell. "Oh, she told me alright, Antilles! There is no honor in supporting a dying cause! Don't forget it was her money that was really keeping that business up and running."

"I've got an idea, how about I come in that cell and kick your ass?" Wedge asked as he stepped forward.

Fel looked at him and then shook his head. "Does everyone hate me so much for doing my duty? Is it so wrong that I truly believe in the New Order?"

"Have you seen what your New Order has done? Corellia is a ghost town, brother-in-law…a ghost town being turned into a battlefield. All of this in the name of your precious New Order. I can't believe my sister bought into your garbage! I can't believe she was so stupid…ack!"

Faster than thought, Fel reached through the bars, grabbed Wedge's shirt and pulled him against the bars. He put his face up to the Rebel's and spoke very slowly. "Say what you want about me, about my government and about my principles. Call me every name in the book; torture me all you want. But…if you ever say anything poor about my wife again, I'll tear your intestines out through your nose."

"Brave words for Deceptra's whore," Wedge sneered.

"Am I not allowed to start over?" Fel asked as he released Wedge. The Bothans merely looked on, enjoying the spectacle the two humans presented. "I don't see a black band on your arm," Fel remarked, indicating that Wedge was no longer in mourning either.

"She's the Emperor's concubine!"

"Was."

"She's evil!"

"People can change!"

"Prove it!" Wedge countered. "Show me that I'm wrong and that the Empire isn't made up of idiots and droid-brains! Corellia is as much your world as it is mine."

Fel laughed. "What? Join your rebellion? Are you insane? I took an oath to the Emperor; what good is a man who can't keep his word?" Fel went over to the small sink and splashed water on his face. Corellia was too damn hot in the summer he thought.

"What good is your word when innocent people die? Have you seen your homeworld?" Fel responded that he was here to try and help, but he would only do it with Imperial forces. Wedge spit on the floor. "You know…this was her home once as well."

Fel looked away as the tears began to burn. There were too many things here reminding him of the woman he had loved, too many smells and sounds that spoke of a life that could have been. In that moment, he realized how much he missed his wife.

His attraction to Deceptra could not fill the void in his heart, not completely at least. His desire to do the right thing was overwhelming his sense of duty and somewhere deep inside, he came to a decision.

He did believe in the New Order, but it had become perverted by men like Tarkin. Tarkin probably killed the Emperor and even Fel wasn't so blind with loyalty that he did not realize that Palpatine had been part of the problem as well. Nobody saw what the real New Order represented and the only way he could prove it wasn't wrong was by setting the example.

"Fine. I want a commission," Fel said.

"Right," Wedge said rolling his eyes.

Fel ignored him and spoke to the lead Bothan in his native tongue. "I want to speak with Garm Bel Iblis. Do it or kill me now."

The Bothan eyed his companions and then nudged his head. One of the guards left to set up the meeting. Though Wedge was there on orders, the Bothans had their own as well.

Wedge saw the exchange and then turned to his brother-in-law. His emotions were boiling over. This was the man his sister had loved…passionately. What was it about him that bonded them so? Through him, could Wedge find a missing piece of his sister?

He couldn't answer the questions and he didn't know where to get the answers. All he knew was that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't figure out how he felt about the man in front of him.