Chapter XXVI - The Empire Attacks
If anyone on the Executor had seen "A New Hope," they wouldn't have fallen for this trick. But their ignorance was fortunate. At least, it was fortunate for the Falcon's occupants, even if it wasn't exactly bliss.
"Whose elbow is in my stomach?" demanded Liz.
"Not mine," Mike replied. "My arm's stuck between Darcy and Steve."
"Eww!" Darcy squealed. "Someone just licked me!"
"Okay, who cut the cheese?" asked Steve.
"Will everyone shut up!" hissed Han.
Fitting twenty people on the Falcon wasn't too difficult a task, but squeezing those same twenty people into the freighter's various secret compartments and cubbyholes was another task entirely. What with the various spats, pushing around, and occasional pointed remark about personal hygiene, it was a wonder they hadn't been discovered yet.
At last Han slid the floor panel aside, allowing himself, Liz, Mike, Steve, and Darcy to extract themselves from the tiny chamber. Anakin, Li, Conrad, Leia, and Zack crawled out of another. The rest of the gang crept through the corridor, all looking rather cross at being locked in such snug quarters for over half an hour.
"Okay, we're on the danged Stardestroyer," said Jason. "Now what?"
"We make a run for it," Luke replied.
"Uh, I got a look out the window as we were coming here," Amethyst pointed out. "The place is crawling with stormies."
"We need a distraction," Matthews suggested.
"I brought my trooper armor," Brigham pointed out. "I can go out, impersonate a stormie, and lead them away."
"I have a better idea," Leia offered.
***
A single stormtrooper emerged from the Falcon, escorting a handcuffed smuggler and a bound, irate Wookie. The commander approached the soldier and gave his captives a skeptical look.
"What's your ID number?" he barked.
"TK-421, sir."
That seemed to satisfy him. "Where did you find them?"
"In the cargo hold, destroying their goods. They surrendered on the spot."
"Good work, 421. Take them to the detention block. Need assistance?"
"No, sir. I can handle it."
The commander nodded, then ordered his troops out. No one was left to watch the trooper release his "captives," or to watch the three of them head back to the ship to meet its occupants.
"Let's boogie," Brigham advised. "Don't know how long they'll stay away."
"Continue as ordered," Anakin said. "Team A will proceed to the bridge and engage the main troops. Team B will make its way to the living quarters and search for Rachel. Divide and conquer!"
Team A, consisting of Han, Chewie, Leia, Austin, Liberty, Brigham, Steve, Cody, Darcy, Zack, Amethyst, Steve, and Li, split off and headed for the bridge. Anakin, Luke, Conrad, Diana, Liz, Matthews, Emily, and Mike slipped down a darkened hallway.
"Planetside report," Anakin barked into his comm.
"Nothing unusual," Lucas replied. "Everyone and their dog's out by the convention center to watch the lunar eclipse. If there are Imperials, it may be hard to spot them."
Matthews shouted a warning as a cluster of stormtroopers rounded the bend, blocking their path. Behind them, another group of troopers cut off their escape route. Anakin ignited his lightsaber.
"Stop!" the leader protested, holding up a hand. He wore the orange shoulder paldron of a sergeant, and a black bandolier striped his breastplate from right shoulder to left hip. In fact, every stormtrooper surrounding them was similarly marked.
"We're allies, not foes," the sergeant went on. "Admiral Piett has our vows that we follow Lord Vader, whatever his allegiance may be. We will aid your mission, which we believe is to rescue the girl."
"And I went to Hershey, Pennsylvania to meet the Amish," Emily retorted.
"Come again?" the sergeant asked.
"In other words, fat chance," Conrad snapped.
"I speak the truth," the sergeant defended. He pointed to his sash. "Piett informed us of an organization on Earth that wears gold bandoliers to set themselves apart. We chose to identify ourselves in a similar fashion. If you ask him, he should be able to tell you."
Anakin flicked on his comm. "Get Piett on the line."
"Piett's in the john paying homage to the porcelain god," Sparky replied. "Somebody should've warned him not to eat the fish at the Leapfrog."
He hissed in exasperation. "Piett is unavailable. I'll need further proof that you are truly here to aid us and not leading us into a trap."
The sergeant turned and nodded at a subordinate, who stepped forward. "I spoke a minute with the little girl. I told her that we were planning on rescuing her. She replied that once she got back home, she wanted you, Vader, to finish reading her the Pegasus story."
That convinced him.
"He's on our side," Anakin told his strike team. "What's your ID number, sergeant?"
"TK-259."
"How many units in your battalion?"
"Fifty."
"Take thirty-five to the bridge and help those gathered there to stage a distraction. I'll take the rest with me."
259 nodded. "Yes, sir."
***
Once again the convention center courtyard was packed, but this crowd was nearly three times as large as the Stellar-Con mob. Tents dotted the plaza, and eager convention-goers were settling in for an all-night bash. Some people had brought picnic dinners; others played Playstation, Xbox, or Game Cube games on television sets some fan had carted in. A midway of sorts, consisting of a hot dog vendor, an ice cream truck, and booths set up by the local fast food joints, did brisk business. Newscasters were also there, wading through the crowd and trying to keep fans from sticking their faces in the cameras and shouting things like "Hi, Mom!" Spirits were high and gazes were skyward, awaiting tonight's lunar eclipse.
Sparky wheeled himself through the mess, followed by Piett and Lucas, the latter wearing a stormtrooper helmet to conceal his identity. The Elite's second-in-command longed to be as carefree as the other celebrants. But he couldn't relax his guard. Imperials could be anywhere.
"This is certainly an unusual event for a lunar eclipse to occur just before a Star Wars convention," a tele-journalist was reporting into her camera lens. "This goes to show just how much the realms of science fiction and science fact overlap."
/You don't know how right you are, lady/ Sparky thought.
"Hey you!" shouted a Princess Leia wannabe. "Did anyone ever tell you you look like Admiral Piett?"
Piett managed to crack a smile. "Actually, ma'am, you're the first."
"Wow, you even sound like him!" she marveled. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you were the actor who played him."
"Isn't he dead?" asked Sparky.
"I dunno," she replied. "He might be. He'd certainly look a lot older, wouldn't he? I mean, it's been twenty years..."
"Yo Chandelle, wanna come play Rogue Squadron?!" someone shouted.
"Gotta run, bye," she said hurriedly, running off.
"Are all fans like that?" asked Piett.
Lucas shook his head. "Usually they're much worse."
At the "Brain Death Row," geeks in various stages of mental vegetation busily worked their thumbs as they battled droid armies, Sith warriors, armored stormtroopers, or enemy starfighters. Sparky pushed his wheelchair beside one gamer and tapped his shoulder.
"Huh?" the guy grunted.
"I don't think that's a Star Wars game," Sparky noted wryly.
The gamer snickered. "Shh, don't tell anyone," he whispered before turning back to his "007 Goldeneye" game.
Someone gasped, and hundreds of pairs of eyes rose toward the full moon. A shadow had nipped off a thin slice of the white-gold sphere, and that shadow was rapidly gulping up more of the orb.
"The eclipse!" a kid in an Ewok costume exclaimed.
A Jedi Padawan cocked his head. "That's the weirdest eclipse I've ever seen."
Indeed -- what had begun as a shadow was rapidly becoming a sinister wedge-shaped silhouette.
"Sacre bluer!" screamed Gabriel, gesturing wildly. "That's no moon! That's a Stardestroyer!"
The gold-bandoliered stormtroopers accompanying Gabriel chattered frantically in French, then proceeded to spread the word throughout the crowd. The revelation swept through the masses like wildfire, and soon all the gathered Stargeeks were abuzz with shock and excitement. That awe became terror, however, when a familiar drone became audible.
Everyone screamed and ducked as the horribly familiar forms of TIE fighters, Interceptors, and Bombers swooped low to buzz the crowd. None of the starfighters fired a shot. They didn't need to -- their mere presence was enough to induce hysteria. Security personnel who had arrived to monitor the gathering were hopelessly too few to control the mob. People bolted in all directions, and some were knocked down and trampled in the chaos.
A single Interceptor roared to a hovering halt some ten feet from the courtyard ground. Bluish light poured from its underside as a specially mounted holoprojector generated a twenty-foot image of Emperor Palpatine.
"Speak of the devil," breathed Lucas.
"I thought they were one and the same," replied Sparky.
The hologram raised a hand. "People of Earth."
An eerie, hypnotic silence swept through the gathering. Despite his revulsion of the Sith monarch, Sparky felt an irresistible urge to listen. In the very back of his mind he realized he was in the throes of the dark side, but he was powerless to fight it.
"Greetings. For centuries the Galactic Republic and, of late, the Galactic Empire have known of your existence. Because your culture is not yet ready for exposure to the galaxy, and because the space surrounding your planet is dangerous to travel, we have prevented contact between your society and ours. I believe the Empire has been gracious in doing this.
"But now it appears a number of Earth citizens are involved in an act of terrorism against the Empire. As I speak, they and a band of Rebels seek to attack me. This is a mere annoyance that will be corrected shortly. But Earth has clearly meddled in affairs that are not theirs to interfere with. I cannot allow this to go unpunished.
"I think it is a fitting penalty that your convention center be forfeit. For now, the punishment stands there. If anyone on this planet is found to be plotting against the Empire in the future, I will send the fleet to eliminate major cities around the globe." He gave a hideous smile. "You have sixty seconds to evacuate the area."
The holo disappeared, and the Interceptor screamed upward to join the other ships in a halo formation around the convention building.
"Everyone clear out!" the MC screamed.
What came next was a scene straight out of "Independence Day." Many were trampled and injured in the crush of bodies as panicked Stargeeks frantically tried to flee. Tents were knocked down, video-game equipment and TV sets smashed and kicked around, abandoned food ground into the cobblestones, and other personal possessions crushed underfoot. The debris created an obstacle course, and several people tripped over the flotsam and were consequently stepped on. TV cameramen either fought against the living river to get footage of the bedlam or simply ditched their cameras and ran.
Sparky couldn't push his wheelchair fast enough, and the litter tossed in his way was only making things worse. Someone grabbed the handles on the chair's back and began pushing him away, but before he could get a glimpse of his benefactor a deafening roar filled his ears.
Something struck him in the head, and he lost interest in the action for awhile.
Had he been conscious, he would have seen the Death Star gunner pushing the wheelchair go down, felled by raining flak. Dozens were wounded in the explosion, and acrid smoke and choking dust created a smothering fog. People staggered blindly, screaming in pain, terror, or both. Concrete pelted the streets and nearby businesses, parked cars, and anyone who had been unlucky enough to be at the hind end of the flight.
For miles around, people stared in horror as a cluster of TIEs hung in the night sky, continuing to pour energy onto the convention center like a dragon spewing emerald fire. Throughout the world, millions watched, agape, as the event was broadcast planetwide.
Higher in the sky, the Stardestroyer had moved away from the moon, and the actual eclipse was beginning. No one watched. No one cared.
***
/If I ever actually see the Emperor, I'll snap his sorry neck/ thought Lucas in anger as he groped through the haze. /In fact, if I even see an action figure or poster of him, I swear I'll rip it to pieces!/
The blaster fire had finally ended, and the fading roar of ion engines signaled the TIE's departure. People were still screaming, but some had finally calmed down enough to plunge into the mess and pull out survivors. Lucas doubted anyone had been killed -- the center itself had been empty, and there had been enough time to get most of the fans far enough away. But there were still plenty of injuries, some minor, others severe.
"George!" Piett called.
Lucas ran toward the Admiral, pausing to step over a battered news camera. Piett had pulled Sparky out of his wheelchair and laid him on the ground. The Elite's second-in- command was unconscious and bleeding from a deep scalp cut, which Piett was trying to stem with a rag torn from his tunic.
"Damn that Emperor," Piett hissed. "I knew he was callous, but this..." He swept his hand to indicate the wreckage around them.
A little girl in a Queen Amidala dress was crying nearby, cradling a broken arm. Lucas held her still while a scouttrooper splinted the injury, then turned on his comm unit.
"Ground to sky, we've just had an attack. Lots of injuries, Sparky among them, and the convention center's gone completely. No fatalities that I can see, but it's still pretty bad."
Anakin uttered a volatile description of the Emperor's family tree before inquiring "How's Sparky?"
"Out cold, nothing broken or ruptured. Looks a mess, but head wounds always bleed a lot."
"Help the injured," Anakin ordered. "We'll go for the Emperor. Update us if, the Force forbid, anything else goes wrong."
Lucas pocketed the comm and let paramedics take Sparky. He and Piett were going to be very busy.
If anyone on the Executor had seen "A New Hope," they wouldn't have fallen for this trick. But their ignorance was fortunate. At least, it was fortunate for the Falcon's occupants, even if it wasn't exactly bliss.
"Whose elbow is in my stomach?" demanded Liz.
"Not mine," Mike replied. "My arm's stuck between Darcy and Steve."
"Eww!" Darcy squealed. "Someone just licked me!"
"Okay, who cut the cheese?" asked Steve.
"Will everyone shut up!" hissed Han.
Fitting twenty people on the Falcon wasn't too difficult a task, but squeezing those same twenty people into the freighter's various secret compartments and cubbyholes was another task entirely. What with the various spats, pushing around, and occasional pointed remark about personal hygiene, it was a wonder they hadn't been discovered yet.
At last Han slid the floor panel aside, allowing himself, Liz, Mike, Steve, and Darcy to extract themselves from the tiny chamber. Anakin, Li, Conrad, Leia, and Zack crawled out of another. The rest of the gang crept through the corridor, all looking rather cross at being locked in such snug quarters for over half an hour.
"Okay, we're on the danged Stardestroyer," said Jason. "Now what?"
"We make a run for it," Luke replied.
"Uh, I got a look out the window as we were coming here," Amethyst pointed out. "The place is crawling with stormies."
"We need a distraction," Matthews suggested.
"I brought my trooper armor," Brigham pointed out. "I can go out, impersonate a stormie, and lead them away."
"I have a better idea," Leia offered.
***
A single stormtrooper emerged from the Falcon, escorting a handcuffed smuggler and a bound, irate Wookie. The commander approached the soldier and gave his captives a skeptical look.
"What's your ID number?" he barked.
"TK-421, sir."
That seemed to satisfy him. "Where did you find them?"
"In the cargo hold, destroying their goods. They surrendered on the spot."
"Good work, 421. Take them to the detention block. Need assistance?"
"No, sir. I can handle it."
The commander nodded, then ordered his troops out. No one was left to watch the trooper release his "captives," or to watch the three of them head back to the ship to meet its occupants.
"Let's boogie," Brigham advised. "Don't know how long they'll stay away."
"Continue as ordered," Anakin said. "Team A will proceed to the bridge and engage the main troops. Team B will make its way to the living quarters and search for Rachel. Divide and conquer!"
Team A, consisting of Han, Chewie, Leia, Austin, Liberty, Brigham, Steve, Cody, Darcy, Zack, Amethyst, Steve, and Li, split off and headed for the bridge. Anakin, Luke, Conrad, Diana, Liz, Matthews, Emily, and Mike slipped down a darkened hallway.
"Planetside report," Anakin barked into his comm.
"Nothing unusual," Lucas replied. "Everyone and their dog's out by the convention center to watch the lunar eclipse. If there are Imperials, it may be hard to spot them."
Matthews shouted a warning as a cluster of stormtroopers rounded the bend, blocking their path. Behind them, another group of troopers cut off their escape route. Anakin ignited his lightsaber.
"Stop!" the leader protested, holding up a hand. He wore the orange shoulder paldron of a sergeant, and a black bandolier striped his breastplate from right shoulder to left hip. In fact, every stormtrooper surrounding them was similarly marked.
"We're allies, not foes," the sergeant went on. "Admiral Piett has our vows that we follow Lord Vader, whatever his allegiance may be. We will aid your mission, which we believe is to rescue the girl."
"And I went to Hershey, Pennsylvania to meet the Amish," Emily retorted.
"Come again?" the sergeant asked.
"In other words, fat chance," Conrad snapped.
"I speak the truth," the sergeant defended. He pointed to his sash. "Piett informed us of an organization on Earth that wears gold bandoliers to set themselves apart. We chose to identify ourselves in a similar fashion. If you ask him, he should be able to tell you."
Anakin flicked on his comm. "Get Piett on the line."
"Piett's in the john paying homage to the porcelain god," Sparky replied. "Somebody should've warned him not to eat the fish at the Leapfrog."
He hissed in exasperation. "Piett is unavailable. I'll need further proof that you are truly here to aid us and not leading us into a trap."
The sergeant turned and nodded at a subordinate, who stepped forward. "I spoke a minute with the little girl. I told her that we were planning on rescuing her. She replied that once she got back home, she wanted you, Vader, to finish reading her the Pegasus story."
That convinced him.
"He's on our side," Anakin told his strike team. "What's your ID number, sergeant?"
"TK-259."
"How many units in your battalion?"
"Fifty."
"Take thirty-five to the bridge and help those gathered there to stage a distraction. I'll take the rest with me."
259 nodded. "Yes, sir."
***
Once again the convention center courtyard was packed, but this crowd was nearly three times as large as the Stellar-Con mob. Tents dotted the plaza, and eager convention-goers were settling in for an all-night bash. Some people had brought picnic dinners; others played Playstation, Xbox, or Game Cube games on television sets some fan had carted in. A midway of sorts, consisting of a hot dog vendor, an ice cream truck, and booths set up by the local fast food joints, did brisk business. Newscasters were also there, wading through the crowd and trying to keep fans from sticking their faces in the cameras and shouting things like "Hi, Mom!" Spirits were high and gazes were skyward, awaiting tonight's lunar eclipse.
Sparky wheeled himself through the mess, followed by Piett and Lucas, the latter wearing a stormtrooper helmet to conceal his identity. The Elite's second-in-command longed to be as carefree as the other celebrants. But he couldn't relax his guard. Imperials could be anywhere.
"This is certainly an unusual event for a lunar eclipse to occur just before a Star Wars convention," a tele-journalist was reporting into her camera lens. "This goes to show just how much the realms of science fiction and science fact overlap."
/You don't know how right you are, lady/ Sparky thought.
"Hey you!" shouted a Princess Leia wannabe. "Did anyone ever tell you you look like Admiral Piett?"
Piett managed to crack a smile. "Actually, ma'am, you're the first."
"Wow, you even sound like him!" she marveled. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you were the actor who played him."
"Isn't he dead?" asked Sparky.
"I dunno," she replied. "He might be. He'd certainly look a lot older, wouldn't he? I mean, it's been twenty years..."
"Yo Chandelle, wanna come play Rogue Squadron?!" someone shouted.
"Gotta run, bye," she said hurriedly, running off.
"Are all fans like that?" asked Piett.
Lucas shook his head. "Usually they're much worse."
At the "Brain Death Row," geeks in various stages of mental vegetation busily worked their thumbs as they battled droid armies, Sith warriors, armored stormtroopers, or enemy starfighters. Sparky pushed his wheelchair beside one gamer and tapped his shoulder.
"Huh?" the guy grunted.
"I don't think that's a Star Wars game," Sparky noted wryly.
The gamer snickered. "Shh, don't tell anyone," he whispered before turning back to his "007 Goldeneye" game.
Someone gasped, and hundreds of pairs of eyes rose toward the full moon. A shadow had nipped off a thin slice of the white-gold sphere, and that shadow was rapidly gulping up more of the orb.
"The eclipse!" a kid in an Ewok costume exclaimed.
A Jedi Padawan cocked his head. "That's the weirdest eclipse I've ever seen."
Indeed -- what had begun as a shadow was rapidly becoming a sinister wedge-shaped silhouette.
"Sacre bluer!" screamed Gabriel, gesturing wildly. "That's no moon! That's a Stardestroyer!"
The gold-bandoliered stormtroopers accompanying Gabriel chattered frantically in French, then proceeded to spread the word throughout the crowd. The revelation swept through the masses like wildfire, and soon all the gathered Stargeeks were abuzz with shock and excitement. That awe became terror, however, when a familiar drone became audible.
Everyone screamed and ducked as the horribly familiar forms of TIE fighters, Interceptors, and Bombers swooped low to buzz the crowd. None of the starfighters fired a shot. They didn't need to -- their mere presence was enough to induce hysteria. Security personnel who had arrived to monitor the gathering were hopelessly too few to control the mob. People bolted in all directions, and some were knocked down and trampled in the chaos.
A single Interceptor roared to a hovering halt some ten feet from the courtyard ground. Bluish light poured from its underside as a specially mounted holoprojector generated a twenty-foot image of Emperor Palpatine.
"Speak of the devil," breathed Lucas.
"I thought they were one and the same," replied Sparky.
The hologram raised a hand. "People of Earth."
An eerie, hypnotic silence swept through the gathering. Despite his revulsion of the Sith monarch, Sparky felt an irresistible urge to listen. In the very back of his mind he realized he was in the throes of the dark side, but he was powerless to fight it.
"Greetings. For centuries the Galactic Republic and, of late, the Galactic Empire have known of your existence. Because your culture is not yet ready for exposure to the galaxy, and because the space surrounding your planet is dangerous to travel, we have prevented contact between your society and ours. I believe the Empire has been gracious in doing this.
"But now it appears a number of Earth citizens are involved in an act of terrorism against the Empire. As I speak, they and a band of Rebels seek to attack me. This is a mere annoyance that will be corrected shortly. But Earth has clearly meddled in affairs that are not theirs to interfere with. I cannot allow this to go unpunished.
"I think it is a fitting penalty that your convention center be forfeit. For now, the punishment stands there. If anyone on this planet is found to be plotting against the Empire in the future, I will send the fleet to eliminate major cities around the globe." He gave a hideous smile. "You have sixty seconds to evacuate the area."
The holo disappeared, and the Interceptor screamed upward to join the other ships in a halo formation around the convention building.
"Everyone clear out!" the MC screamed.
What came next was a scene straight out of "Independence Day." Many were trampled and injured in the crush of bodies as panicked Stargeeks frantically tried to flee. Tents were knocked down, video-game equipment and TV sets smashed and kicked around, abandoned food ground into the cobblestones, and other personal possessions crushed underfoot. The debris created an obstacle course, and several people tripped over the flotsam and were consequently stepped on. TV cameramen either fought against the living river to get footage of the bedlam or simply ditched their cameras and ran.
Sparky couldn't push his wheelchair fast enough, and the litter tossed in his way was only making things worse. Someone grabbed the handles on the chair's back and began pushing him away, but before he could get a glimpse of his benefactor a deafening roar filled his ears.
Something struck him in the head, and he lost interest in the action for awhile.
Had he been conscious, he would have seen the Death Star gunner pushing the wheelchair go down, felled by raining flak. Dozens were wounded in the explosion, and acrid smoke and choking dust created a smothering fog. People staggered blindly, screaming in pain, terror, or both. Concrete pelted the streets and nearby businesses, parked cars, and anyone who had been unlucky enough to be at the hind end of the flight.
For miles around, people stared in horror as a cluster of TIEs hung in the night sky, continuing to pour energy onto the convention center like a dragon spewing emerald fire. Throughout the world, millions watched, agape, as the event was broadcast planetwide.
Higher in the sky, the Stardestroyer had moved away from the moon, and the actual eclipse was beginning. No one watched. No one cared.
***
/If I ever actually see the Emperor, I'll snap his sorry neck/ thought Lucas in anger as he groped through the haze. /In fact, if I even see an action figure or poster of him, I swear I'll rip it to pieces!/
The blaster fire had finally ended, and the fading roar of ion engines signaled the TIE's departure. People were still screaming, but some had finally calmed down enough to plunge into the mess and pull out survivors. Lucas doubted anyone had been killed -- the center itself had been empty, and there had been enough time to get most of the fans far enough away. But there were still plenty of injuries, some minor, others severe.
"George!" Piett called.
Lucas ran toward the Admiral, pausing to step over a battered news camera. Piett had pulled Sparky out of his wheelchair and laid him on the ground. The Elite's second-in- command was unconscious and bleeding from a deep scalp cut, which Piett was trying to stem with a rag torn from his tunic.
"Damn that Emperor," Piett hissed. "I knew he was callous, but this..." He swept his hand to indicate the wreckage around them.
A little girl in a Queen Amidala dress was crying nearby, cradling a broken arm. Lucas held her still while a scouttrooper splinted the injury, then turned on his comm unit.
"Ground to sky, we've just had an attack. Lots of injuries, Sparky among them, and the convention center's gone completely. No fatalities that I can see, but it's still pretty bad."
Anakin uttered a volatile description of the Emperor's family tree before inquiring "How's Sparky?"
"Out cold, nothing broken or ruptured. Looks a mess, but head wounds always bleed a lot."
"Help the injured," Anakin ordered. "We'll go for the Emperor. Update us if, the Force forbid, anything else goes wrong."
Lucas pocketed the comm and let paramedics take Sparky. He and Piett were going to be very busy.