Star Wars Infinities: The Master
Chapter 8
By: Christopher W. Blaine
e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com
DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.
The Imperial shuttle, designated S-1, broke through the blanket of clouds that covered the planet Bespin, the pilot ensuring that their descent was moderate enough not to upset Lord Skywalker. In the cargo area, seated like any other passenger, Luke cracked his knuckles before pulling out his lightsaber. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and reached through the Force.
He already had his psychic defenses up so that the Jedi on Cloud City would not detect him and it was a real challenge when his mind sensed the presence of Kyp Durron. He had never been so close to the young Jedi Knight before and he was silently impressed. Luke was more powerful, he knew, and he also realized that Kyp's transformation of Tatooine had more to do with the Force itself than the actual ability of Ferrin Durron's son.
Still, Kyp Durron was a powerful Jedi and if Luke made a wrong move or miscalculated, Kyp would be all over him and that would be it. His plan called for luring Durron away from the others. Corran Horn was a minor Jedi, his abilities tied more into reflex and instinct than any actual discipline. He was not a great concern to the Dark Apprentice.
Leia was an entirely different matter all together, but Luke was not worried. He had already felt the tremors in the Force. Leia was concerned and frustrated about something, though Luke could hardly imagine why. The Corporate Sector Authority had not announced his arrival, not if they didn't want to lose some lucrative Imperial business.
Luke put the entire affair out of his mind and began disassembling his lightsaber. It was a finely crafted weapon, with a highly polished silver hilt. It was made from hull plating of second Death Star and it had taken Luke months to use the Force to shape the metal into the desired shape. It would have been easier to simply have one made for him by any number of Imperial craftsman, but by using his mind, he had passed a personal test of will.
Luke knew he was the heir to the power of Anakin Skywalker and he strove everyday to prove he was as good as, if not better than, his legendary father. His entire life had been spent in the shadow of that man, the favored apprentice of Palpatine. It was not something that Luke regretted. For even though he had never known his father, he respected his memory.
Fresca sat across from Luke, dressed in a fashionable outfit that his her bruises and clung to her more womanly features. She had dyed her hair red; it was a habit she had developed in her early intelligence training. It helped to keep assassins off guard. One week she would have red hair; another she would have dark skin thanks to sub dermal implants. Luke had even been mildly surprised to find out she could alter the size of her breasts if necessary.
For one so young, she was a woman of the galaxy Luke decided. He could feel her through the Force and realized that the young woman was falling in love with him and it irritated her. She had hoped to use her charms to somehow enslave him.
He wondered if she realized that she had. He chuckled as his dexterous fingers grabbed the focusing jewel and she assumed it was safe to speak to him. "Why is it that you don't take the title Darth?"
Luke began to lay the components out on his thighs. "The true Dark Lords of the Sith had no need for such titles. Exar Kunn. Naga Sadow. Freedon Nadd."
"Luke Skywalker?"
He smiled. "Yes, Luke Skywalker. My master understands my desire to break from tradition. He says I am young and will come around eventually." He started to reassemble his weapon, continuing to speak to her with his eyes closed. "I can sense that you are apprehensive about the task before us."
She started to apply some bright red fingernail polish. In reality, it was actually a thin coating of a nanodroid impregnated metal finish popular with swoop bike gangs. It could change to over 100 different colors by simple voice command. "No bodyguards except for me? If anything happens to you, I'll be executed."
"In a most painful manner, too," Luke said. He held up the completed lightsaber. "If I put this together incorrectly, it will explode when I activate it."
She showed no fear. "You'll die first. You're closer."
He extended his arm towards her and pressed the activation stud. There was a snap-hiss and the familiar whoosh as the crimson blade extended. She could feel the heat from it, so close it was to her ear. She could detect the faint smell of burnt hair. His steel-blue eyes stared at her and he wondered of his mother had shown such defiance. Fresca refused to even given him the slightest hint of her true emotions.
Both of them burned with hatred. Both of them hated their mothers. Neither had known their fathers. He admired this young woman and her simmering fury.
He deactivated the lightsaber and put it back on his belt. "How will you prevent yourself from being recognized?" she asked him.
"The Force is a powerful ally. In the hands of a novice, it can influence the weak-minded. In the hands of a master, it is a powerful weapon to bore holes into the minds of the common folk." Luke looked out the viewport. "You can pour anything you want into that holes, including false memories."
She nodded. "How our intelligence units would benefit from operative with Force-ability."
Luke didn't respond immediately. He realized that the ambitious woman was fishing for information as to where all of the Force-sensitive people in the Empire went. Just because the Emperor went after the Jedi did not mean that children stopped being born with abilities.
It was not common knowledge, but there were rumors of strange, misshapen Jedi coming in the night to steal children away. Undoubtedly, she was curious as to Luke's thoughts on the subject. He humored her with a smile. "Intelligence gathering has been done for thousands of years without the benefit of the Force. It is wiser to leave such things in the hands of the masters."
She wasn't satisfied with the answer, but her rank and position gave her little choice but to accept it. Perhaps if she continued to share his bed she would be privy to much more.
Her mother had been the personal assistant to Darth Deceptra, and her grandfather had been an intelligence chief in the Old Republic as well as the Empire. Known as Iceheart, Fresca's mother had forsaken a career in intelligence in order to work closely with the most powerful woman in the universe. It was even whispered by some that Fresca's mother had been in love with Deceptra, a thought that turned her stomach.
Fresca intended to become someone powerful in the galaxy. She had the intellect and drive, and she was not naïve enough not to believe she had the beauty as well. She was beautiful and with her talent for changing her appearance, there was no doubt she could fulfill all of the desires of whomever it was she decided to couple with.
It was a strange twist of fate that she ended up with Luke Skywalker, the head of Imperial Intelligence and perhaps the second most powerful person in the galaxy. She was still young but if she happened to latch onto the handsome Dark Lord now, imagine what sort of life awaited her!
Luke could sense her thoughts and part of him wanted to laugh at her. Even if they married, even if he fell madly in love with her, he would never surrender one sliver of his power. He was Sith; she was a bed warmer.
One day, she would have to be taught the difference. For now, however, her role was to be by his side. "What intelligence do we have on this place?"
"Bespin was ceded officially to the Corporate Sector Authority two years ago but they have had nominal control for over four. The capital is Cloud City, which has extensive mining operations for the gas at the center of the planet. Cloud City is also a resort of sorts for the rich and infamous." She finished applying the nail polish and put the bottle away in her bag. "It is administered by a man named Lando Calrissian, a Corellian it is assumed, though our files on him are sketchy. We believe he may have once worked for Garm Bel Iblis, but the allure of high stakes gambling and profiteering keep him from being a reliable agent."
"The head of security is a man named Dash Rendar, a former stormtrooper who went AWOL. There is an old warrant for his arrest, but we cannot affect it here." Her voice became quite serious. "With all due respect, my lord, I have to mention one more time that we are no longer in the Empire. The CSA has become a very powerful entity."
"They pale in comparison to the Dark Side," Luke said, waving her comment away. Fresca, like so many others, saw the galaxy in terms of material things. How many ships a government had to enforce its policy. How many taxpayers to keep it running. She obeyed the rules of mortal games. Luke was a Sith Lord and he obeyed only the Force. The Force directed him here through his master and it was here that he would begin to balance the scales that had been tipped against him.
The Corporate Sector, like the Hapans and the New Republic, believed they had safety and security behind their borders with their capital ships and turbolasers. If only they knew the true power of the Dark Side of the Force! Luke wondered if Fresca realized how easy it would be for him to reach out with the Force and grab Cloud City and send it plunging into oblivion! Size did not matter to one who was well endowed with the Dark Side.
"Of course, my lord, but I'm still at a loss as to how we will get Leia Organa off of Cloud City without alerting local security," she asked.
"I trust in the Force and in the greed of man," Luke said, giving no other answer than that.
The Bespin air traffic controller turned to his supervisor, who was watching the incoming shuttle intently. They had received their orders from the Sector Admiral, the military/security commander assigned to this part of the galaxy by the governing board of the Corporate Sector Authority.
Technically, the men and women and aliens employed in the ATCC were required to report the presence of an official Imperial diplomatic shuttle to the Baron-Administrator, or at least to security chief Rendar. The orders they had gotten, only an hour before, indicated that they were not to mention in any shape or form, by word or deed that the Lambda-Class shuttle was approaching.
The shuttle could hold shock troops, but not nearly enough to threaten Cloud City. There was well over a thousand troops stationed in the floating city and there was no sign of any other Imperial transports on their way in. Nobody in the small observatory control room wanted to entertain the end result of a battle between determined New Order forces and the token CSA force.
They all knew that their existence and the relative peace was because neither the New Order or the Confederacy had the time, resources or even desire to take control of the Outer Rim. The CSA was more than happy to administer and run the operations. Because of that, the supervisor knew that there were times when discretion was better then following orders.
Still, he could tell that the young operator was uncomfortable watching the Imperial shuttle coming in to land. The Imperials were infrequent customers and despite the new pro-alien attitude of the New Order, nobody with half a brain would trust them. "It's probably some military governor coming in for a holiday," the supervisor offered.
"Why do they have to come here? Don't they have enough worlds?"
The supervisor shrugged and pulled out a small cigar and lit it with a lighter with the CSA logo on it. "So many worlds are changing hands, it's hard to tell. I'd say that whomever it is wanted to go someplace stable. Besides, we do have the best sabbac games in the galaxy."
"What about the Jedi?" the controller asked, keeping his voice low. The presence of the three Republic Jedi was not common knowledge. "Shouldn't we tell them?"
Shaking his head, the supervisor dismissed the concern with a wave of the cigar. "We don't support the Republic, we sell to them. You need to remember that, okay? The Sector Admiral, who outranks all of us here, has told us to keep our mouths shut."
"The Corporate policy manual…"
"Is being bypassed this time," the supervisor said as he watched the monitor that was following the shuttle. Calmly, the Imperial craft moved towards the landing pad that was located on the exact opposite side of the city from where Administrator Calrissian was keeping his Jedi friends. Repulsor coils lit up underneath the shuttle as the wings folded up as it went into landing mode.
The supervisor continued to observe as the view changed from one holocam to another. He wouldn't admit it to his junior, or to any of the other employees in the center, but he was curious as to who it was that had garnered such special treatment from his government. He half expected Lord Ravage himself to step out, but he knew better. The leader of the Empire had not left Imperial Center since taking power. "Probably afraid the Coruscant Killer will get him on the launch pad," he joked silently.
Two Ugnaughts regarded him queerly as they went about their housekeeping duties, but did not say anything to him. The diminutive aliens were everywhere in Cloud City, making up a full sixty percent of the population, yet there was not a one that held a position of any power within the city's hierarchy of power. The supervisor wondered why that was until he caught a glimpse of someone coming down the lowered boarding ramp.
It was two men and by the way the moved, he guessed they were professional soldiers. Most likely Black Troopers, the elite agents of the New Order. Some people still referred to them as stormtroopers and they essentially were, except that the New Order had given them a new name in order to discern them from the white armored soldiers of the Confederacy.
They were armed with blaster rifles that were non-descript, weapons that could be found in the hands of any mercenary or thug anywhere in the galaxy. All of the Cloud City security forces were armed with CSA approved weapons and they were normally second-rate equipment.
The next person that came down was a young woman in civilian clothes. He had the technician zoom in on her and waited as the facial recognition program sought out her identity. "Fresca Isaard, an officer in Imperial Intelligence, assigned to Luke Skywalker's personal staff. She's the daughter of the former chief assistant to Darth Deceptra and the granddaughter of the former head of Republic Intelligence. Old Republic," the technician added.
The supervisor nodded and squinted as he took in her features. His eyes went to the official CSA picture on the secondary screen. "She's dyed her hair and she's wearing contacts."
"Looks like she's still a kid."
"Just a disguise is all. Seems to me that," the supervisor started, "this is an awful lot of attention for such a minor official." He took another drag on the cigar and then stopped as if his heart had suddenly quit. There was a flash of heat that ran from his neck and down his spine.
The final figure that stepped off of the shuttle was unmistakable. His face has been posted on every holochannel throughout the known galaxy for over two decades. Everyone who had some inkling of intellect knew who Luke Skywalker was. "Sithspawn," he whispered, realizing that orders be damned.
"Is that?"
"Shut it your hyperdrive down," the supervisor said as he reached up to the earpiece on the left side of his skull. He pressed a small stud and waited for a tone. The advanced communications device would pick up his voice, even at a whisper, as the sound traveled through his blood and bone and relay it over a secure microwave connection.
"Sir, we have a situation that I think you should be made aware of…"
Lobot said nothing as the transmission played itself out through the cybernetic module that was grafted to his bald head. The personal assistant of Lando Calrissian, Lobot was a cyborg, a man who had been joined with an advanced computer in order to make him more efficient. Unlike most sentients, usually humans, that underwent the process, Lobot was not completely devoid of emotions.
He considered Lando a friend and not just him, but Dash Rendar as well. This information not only affected the young Jedi on Cloud City, but his two friends as well.
Unfortunately for Lobot, he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
As a matter of routine, he had stopped by this section of the city to perform an efficiency analysis of landing and docking procedures, trying to figure out if the work crews were operating as well as they possibly could. By eliminating waste, even the smallest bit, Lobot helped to increase the overall profit of the city itself and therefore made life easier for everyone that made their living here.
He had seen the Imperial shuttle land and while he thought it odd, he had not thought to crosscheck the flight plans to discover if the security escort had been previously scheduled. It was rare, but there were times that Imperials came out this far into the Rim. Normally Cloud City was a haven for those persons who had no real loyalties or had enough personal wealth that it did not matter.
Even as the passengers disembarked he still had not decided to tap into the facial recognition program just as a security precaution because he trusted in the ability of Dash Rendar's personnel. It never occurred to Lobot that those personnel had been derailed by someone higher than the Baron-Administrator.
When the report came through to him he had two reactions. The first was to link up to the city's computers and the second was fear. It was that fear that Luke Skywalker sensed.
The Dark Lord strode with purpose down the ramp, past Fresca and his bodyguards. A wave of his hand directed the Force into the minds of the weak-willed guards and they started to fall, slumping into small piles in the corridor leading into the main lobby. Fresca cursed under her breath, but realized that she could do nothing to stop her lover.
She issued quick orders to her men and to the ones still left in the shuttle. They would have to get to air traffic control and grab the holocam records and do it quickly, eliminating any witnesses at the same time. Fresca pulled out a small communicator and pressed the button that would link her with the Sector-Admiral. It was fortunate for them that he was a man who wanted to retire in the Empire.
Waves of Dark Side energy radiated away from Luke and permeated the brains of the few beings in the terminal. This was a little used portion of Cloud City, normally reserved for bulk transports and was manned mostly by droids. The guards had been nothing to a master of the Sith ways, but the cyborg was something different. Luke sensed the cold logic that constantly strived to override the raw emotions.
Lobot turned to get away, but somewhere down deep inside, he didn't think he was going to accomplish that goal.