Chapter 10
Piett had overheard Lando's "this deal keeps getting worse all the time" remark as the Baron Administrator hastily exited the Rebels' cell, nursing a bruised jaw. And at the moment, that was exactly the Admiral's sentiment regarding this whole outrageous plot Kain and Palpatine had cooked up.
The carbon-freezing facility reeked of acrid steam and molten metal. The glare of orange and blue lights dyed the stormtroopers' armor a pale ocher color on the front and a silvery-blue in back, making them look oddly two-toned. The hatch descending into the actual carbon-freezing chamber glowed eerily like the eye of a demon – or perhaps more appropriately, a portal to Hell. Tiny porcine Ugnaughts bustled about the portal like imps, squealing orders and flipping switches all the while. Hot dirty fog billowed from vents and leaky pipes and shrouded everything in metallic steam.
All in all an unpleasant place, and the presence of two Sith didn't help matters.
Piett kept out of sight, standing in the shadows and watching the proceedings through a gauzy curtain of steam. All this activity puzzled him. What under the stars were Kain and the Emperor up to now? From what he'd heard, they were here to catch Skywalker, not deal in the preservation of tibanna gas.
"If you put Skywalker in there, it'll kill him!" Lando insisted angrily.
"We don't want our prize damaged, of course," sneered the Emperor "So if you insist it's so dangerous, we'll test it on one of our Rebel friends. The pirate, perhaps?"
Piett jerked, startled. The Emperor was planning on carbon-freezing a person? Such an action was ludicrous! Sure, it could effectively put a living creature in suspended animation, but only if said creature actually survived the freezing process – a fifty-fifty proposition under the best of circumstances.
"But he's no good to me dead!" protested Aurra Sing, eyes flashing.
"If he dies, you will be compensated for your loss," Palpatine assured her smoothly.
Piett flinched at the Emperor's callously casual tone.
An aide stepped to his side. "Admiral, message from the Executor."
He took the comm unit from the aide. "Piett here."
"Sir, two starfighters are approaching the city, one X-wing class and the other a modified N-1. Neither pilot has responded to our hails. Awaiting orders."
"One moment." He stepped forward to stand at Kain's side. "My lord…"
"I heard it all," Kain interrupted. "Allow them to land and see to it that the pilots find their way here."
"Yes, my Lord," he murmured, and retreated to the relative safety of the shadows to relay the message.
Two stormtroopers stepped forward to drag the Corellian forward… and were promptly thrown over the edge of the platform as the Wookie went into a howling rage. More troopers charged forward to restrain the beast, but most of them had their helmeted skulls banged together before they managed to cuff him.
"Chewie!" the smuggler cried. "No! Save your strength! You have to protect the princess now!"
Piett watched as the troopers and Ugnaughts forced the man toward the hatch, removing the hand binders. The Wookie whimpered, the Fosh glowered at everyone and everything but her soon-to-be-frozen comrade, and the princess… was crying. Not sobbing, not screaming, just weeping silently, the amber light upon her face making her appear to shed tears of gold.
He took a moment to truly study the visages of these men and women. In all his years of servitude toward the Empire he'd never actually come face-to-face with a Rebel. Mostly he knew them as numbers or statistics, or occasionally a name on a wanted poster or a headline in a Holonet article detailing the escape, capture, trial, or execution of a particularly notorious Rebel. The closest he'd come to actually seeing one was viewing their X-wings and blockade runners through viewports – usually the thruster end. But it had never really occurred to him that the enemy had a face.
The Wookie was a novel sight for him – he'd never seen a free Wookie before either. The terrified, half-starved Imperial slaves he was familiar with were nowhere near as tall and healthy-looking as this specimen. He had plenty of muscle mass, his fur was glossy and free of snarls, and his eyes gleamed with bold independence.
But within those eyes was also a deep sadness, not only the pain of losing his friend, but the accumulated sorrows of a lifetime that exceeded his own. It struck him that this Wookie had been traveling the galaxy long before Piett's grandfather was born, had seen the Republic and Jedi Order in their days of glory. He had viewed firsthand the Republic's fall and the rise of the Empire. For a moment he had a crazy desire to pull the creature aside and ask him what those days had been like, if he'd ever come in contact with a Jedi, if he'd had family or friends lost to the Empire.
Instead, his gaze moved to the Fosh. She had a peculiar alien beauty that might have intrigued him under different circumstances. But her right eye had been darkened by an interrogator's fist, her feathered crest was in frightful disarray, and her white medic's coat was badly rumpled and stained with blood – her own or some other unlucky soul's, who knew? And like the Wookie, her burnt-orange eyes betrayed a lifetime of pain.
Her plight was far from unique – no non-human born under the Empire's reign escaped unscathed. Being alien was a crime as far as the dictatorship was concerned, and aliens of any species could expect enslavement, abuse, genocide, and other atrocities from most of the human populace. But it had never actually registered in Piett's mind that such practices were beyond immoral but brutal and cruel – until now.
Had circumstances been different he might have approached her and attempted to comfort her, tried to apologize for anything he might have done to contribute to her people's suffering.
But he turned his attention to the princess. Again the pain in her deep brown eyes, again the agony accumulated over a lifetime. But foremost in her eyes were the freshly torn wounds of losing her beloved.
He watched the drama unfolding before him in fascination, watched the pirate and the princess exchange one final moment of closeness before he was forcibly hauled away from her. The fact that the enemy was comprised of living, emoting beings was never so clear to him before now. Never before had he imagined the Rebels being anything beyond malicious, crazed terrorists, let alone friends and lovers.
The Emperor himself stepped forward to activate the carbon-freezing chamber, breaking off Piett's study. A sudden loathing filled his chest at that moment – hatred toward this disgusting insect of a man and his homicidal lapdog, hatred toward the emotionless clone soldiers standing guard like so many paper cutouts, hatred toward an Empire that swept aside lives like so many game tokens at heartless leaders' whims. How could anyone, human or not, stand there and SMILE while inflicting pain on sentient beings?!
"I love you," the princess whispered.
"I know," the Corellian replied.
And he sank out of sight as the freezing process began.
It was at that precise moment that Admiral Piett's loyalties shifted dramatically. The Rebellion and Empire would record it differently, but in Piett's mind he had defected the moment the smuggler's body descended into the carbon-freezing apparatus. He had seen the other side and sympathized with their plights. And in doing so, he found he couldn't go back. He couldn't serve an Emperor who derived pleasure from oppressing and torturing his subjects.
He would no longer defend the Empire. He would fight it!
The question was how, though. He had no idea how to contact the Rebellion and so couldn't join them directly. He supposed he could leak information to likely sources or commit some minor sabotage on the battlefield, but somehow that didn't seem good enough.
Perhaps a single, decisive blow was what he needed. One act that would do considerable damage to the Empire and let the entire galaxy know his true allegiance, even if it resulted in his murder at a Sith's hands. Could he attempt to assassinate Kain? Not a chance; he was a fair pilot but poor at hand-to-hand combat. Kain would slaughter him. Could he release the princess and two aliens and aid them in their escape? But he couldn't be sure they'd make it off the planet alive.
A slab of carbonite emerged, the visage of the smuggler etched in all his agony on the surface. The Ugnaughts shoved it to the floor with a tremendous crash, and Lando bent over it to check the poor man's vital signs.
"Did he survive?" rasped Kain.
"Yes," Lando replied, voice thick with relief, "and he's in perfect hibernation."
"Good," the Emperor crooned in a voice as smooth and cold as marble. "He's all yours, Madam Sing. Reset the chamber for Skywalker, and take the princess, Wookie, and medical officer to my ship."
/Skywalker!/ That was it! He'd go find Skywalker and warn him! That would give him a chance to escape, and the Sith would be denied their prize! He had to strain to keep an exultant smile off his face, though it would have been the first he'd worn in over a year. He knew he would be rewarded for his actions with an excruciating death, but in his mind it would be worth it.
Stormtroopers herded the remaining Rebels in one direction while workers fitted repulsors to the carbon block and pushed it in another direction. Kain and the Emperor stalked off yet another way, exchanging some heated words with Lando.
Piett managed to slip away unnoticed. If there was a time to act, he theorized, it was now.
---------
Cloud City was in an uproar. The Baron Administrator had just announced over the citywide PA system that the Empire was in the process of taking over the city, and he advised everyone to evacuate as soon as possible. Few citizens of the city harbored any loyalty toward the Empire, and the result was mass pandemonium as panicked civilians flooded the streets and air traffic became hopelessly snarled.
That was perhaps the only reason why the arrival of a former Sith and the galaxy's most wanted Rebel went largely unnoticed.
"Good stars!" exclaimed Vader in dismay as they leaped down from their fighters. "Kain and the Emperor certainly know how to complicate things."
Luke rolled his eyes. "Great. What else can go wrong?"
A hideous screech, and Rusty's dome exploded, showering fragments of steel and circuitry upon the two fighters and a horrified Artoo.
"Please don't say that again," Vader advised.
"Sorry."
Two Gotal gas miners and a human frozen-dessert vendor, the latter still clutching his portable freezing unit, almost crashed into them in their attempt to board an already overcrowded shuttle. More hysterical citizens clogged the streets, making it nearly impossible to travel. Few people paid the two Padawans any attention, and those that did recognize Vader's mask were generally too intent on getting out of the city to think much on it.
"There's got to be a better way to find the others," snapped Vader, sidestepping to avoid the headlong rush of a pack of hysterical teenagers.
Luke heartily agreed. It was going to be impossible to find their friends in this bedlam.
The flash of a gray military uniform attracted his attention. He turned to see a gaunt, haggard-looking Imperial officer beckoning frantically from a doorway, a desperate expression on his face. For a moment Luke was suspicious of the man's intentions, but his instincts told him to trust him. But what could he want?
"Vader," he hissed, inclining his head toward the man.
"An Imperial?" Vader asked skeptically.
"I don't feel like he means us any harm," Luke said by way of explanation.
Vader didn't seem convinced, but he followed Luke through the doorway.
The Imperial bore the insignia of Admiral upon his breast, but it didn't look like he'd worn the title very long. He could have been described as handsome once, but he seemed prematurely aged somehow, as if his new duties had taken a disastrous toll on him. When his gaze rested on Vader, Luke fully expected him to erupt into hysterics. Instead, his face lit up in understanding.
"Then the rumors are true," he breathed. "You joined the Rebellion."
Vader stared blankly at the man. "Who are you?"
"Admiral Piett of the Stardestroyer Executor," he replied. "But you probably wouldn't know me, as I was a mere ensign when you… changed your affiliations."
"I don't think he'd know you anyway…" began Luke.
"Luke," Vader cut off. "He doesn't need to know everything."
"Oh," he replied sheepishly. "Uh, can we help you, Piett?"
Piett's gaze returned to Luke. "Skywalker, run!" he urged. "This is a trap! Darth Kain and the Emperor plan on carbon-freezing you and taking you back to Corusant as their captive! Get away, far away!"
Luke was stunned. Why was an Imperial putting his own neck on the line for him? "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I've served under Kain for too long," he replied harshly. "I've seen too many atrocities firsthand to justify serving that insane hunter and his sadistic master any longer. I had to do something to disrupt their plans, and this was the only way I could see to do it." Having vented his emotions and looking much better for it, he took a deep breath. "Now go! With the evacuation in progress, no one will notice your departure."
"Indeed they won't," Vader replied. "Because we will not leave Bespin without our friends."
"But…" protested Piett, crestfallen.
"It's called loyalty," Luke told him not unkindly. "It's a trait common in the Alliance. We won't have our friends suffer when we can do something to prevent it." He smiled. "What you can do to help us, though, is contact the Alliance."
Piett's jaw dropped open.
"Use the code B814-03," Vader added. "Tell whoever answers that you have the authorization of Commander Skywalker and Second Commander Vader. Tell them we need reinforcements to liberate Cloud City."
His face broke into a wide grin. "I can do that."
"Thank you, Piett, and welcome to the Alliance," Luke told him. "Now hurry."
Piett nodded and took off at a brisk jog.
"That was unexpected," Vader noted.
"But it worked to our advantage," Luke replied. He took a moment to study the hallway they were in. "Whoa. Where are we?"
The white marble halls of this building were oddly quiet, especially compared to the chaos outside. Luke had never entered a palace before, but he couldn't imagine this place being anything else.
He listened closely. Deep in the bowels of the building he thought he could hear blaster fire. Imperials, no doubt. And the Force confirmed that his friends were in there as well.
"They're here, Vader!" he exclaimed. "Let's go!"
But Vader was gazing in a different direction, as still as a nekk intent on a scent.
"Father, c'mon!" he urged.
As if waking from a dream Vader turned to Luke. "You go, Luke. I'm needed elsewhere."
What the stang did that mean? "Why?"
"I don't know. A tremor in the Force…" He motioned for Luke to continue. "Go. I'll be a few minutes behind you."
"I'm holding you to that," Luke replied only half-jokingly, and he sprinted down the hall.
Vader watched him go, then strode off toward the lower levels of the building.
--------
The holoscreen flickered out as the Emperor switched it off.
"Fool," Kain hissed. "Does Piett think we're oblivious? That the cams all over the city are just decorations?"
"We'll deal with Piett's treason later," Piett replied. "Our primary concern is that Vader is on his way here and Skywalker is in the Baron's palace. I'll handle Vader, but Skywalker is your responsibility. Subdue him and bring him here."
"Yes, my master."
"Now go."
Kain stepped down from the platform and stalked off, the blasts of steam transforming him into a ghostly silhouette. Palpatine grinned wickedly. Skywalker would be no match for his apprentice. He would soon be theirs. But it would be far more difficult to convince him to join their cause. Oh well. They'd cross that bridge when they came to it.
Vader, however… he would be a pleasure to turn. He served the Rebellion out of blissful ignorance, not true loyalty. Once he showed the man the true nature of the Force, though, he expected he'd change his tune.
/Then/ he thought, /we'll see which side of the Force needs balancing./
----------
Like a dark bird of prey Kain swooped through the hallways, drawn by Skywalker's presence like a sando aqua monster to the scent of blood. His hands clenched at his sides as he anticipated the hiss of sabers, the euphoria of adrenalin, and the cold embrace of the dark side. Lust pounded through his veins… blood lust.
Skywalker would die today.
A locked door impeded his progress – but not for long. He wasted no subtlety in his impatience but released his pent-up frustration. The door exploded, and slabs of ragged metal scattered before him as he strode on without slackening his pace.
No Skywalker would join the Sith. Not while Kain bore the title of Sith Apprentice. They were Jedi, unworthy of being called comrades. They only deserved to be crushed underfoot to make way for the reign of the dark side.
He sensed Skywalker's presence around the bend. Activating his saber, he grinned savagely and rounded the corner.
Piett had overheard Lando's "this deal keeps getting worse all the time" remark as the Baron Administrator hastily exited the Rebels' cell, nursing a bruised jaw. And at the moment, that was exactly the Admiral's sentiment regarding this whole outrageous plot Kain and Palpatine had cooked up.
The carbon-freezing facility reeked of acrid steam and molten metal. The glare of orange and blue lights dyed the stormtroopers' armor a pale ocher color on the front and a silvery-blue in back, making them look oddly two-toned. The hatch descending into the actual carbon-freezing chamber glowed eerily like the eye of a demon – or perhaps more appropriately, a portal to Hell. Tiny porcine Ugnaughts bustled about the portal like imps, squealing orders and flipping switches all the while. Hot dirty fog billowed from vents and leaky pipes and shrouded everything in metallic steam.
All in all an unpleasant place, and the presence of two Sith didn't help matters.
Piett kept out of sight, standing in the shadows and watching the proceedings through a gauzy curtain of steam. All this activity puzzled him. What under the stars were Kain and the Emperor up to now? From what he'd heard, they were here to catch Skywalker, not deal in the preservation of tibanna gas.
"If you put Skywalker in there, it'll kill him!" Lando insisted angrily.
"We don't want our prize damaged, of course," sneered the Emperor "So if you insist it's so dangerous, we'll test it on one of our Rebel friends. The pirate, perhaps?"
Piett jerked, startled. The Emperor was planning on carbon-freezing a person? Such an action was ludicrous! Sure, it could effectively put a living creature in suspended animation, but only if said creature actually survived the freezing process – a fifty-fifty proposition under the best of circumstances.
"But he's no good to me dead!" protested Aurra Sing, eyes flashing.
"If he dies, you will be compensated for your loss," Palpatine assured her smoothly.
Piett flinched at the Emperor's callously casual tone.
An aide stepped to his side. "Admiral, message from the Executor."
He took the comm unit from the aide. "Piett here."
"Sir, two starfighters are approaching the city, one X-wing class and the other a modified N-1. Neither pilot has responded to our hails. Awaiting orders."
"One moment." He stepped forward to stand at Kain's side. "My lord…"
"I heard it all," Kain interrupted. "Allow them to land and see to it that the pilots find their way here."
"Yes, my Lord," he murmured, and retreated to the relative safety of the shadows to relay the message.
Two stormtroopers stepped forward to drag the Corellian forward… and were promptly thrown over the edge of the platform as the Wookie went into a howling rage. More troopers charged forward to restrain the beast, but most of them had their helmeted skulls banged together before they managed to cuff him.
"Chewie!" the smuggler cried. "No! Save your strength! You have to protect the princess now!"
Piett watched as the troopers and Ugnaughts forced the man toward the hatch, removing the hand binders. The Wookie whimpered, the Fosh glowered at everyone and everything but her soon-to-be-frozen comrade, and the princess… was crying. Not sobbing, not screaming, just weeping silently, the amber light upon her face making her appear to shed tears of gold.
He took a moment to truly study the visages of these men and women. In all his years of servitude toward the Empire he'd never actually come face-to-face with a Rebel. Mostly he knew them as numbers or statistics, or occasionally a name on a wanted poster or a headline in a Holonet article detailing the escape, capture, trial, or execution of a particularly notorious Rebel. The closest he'd come to actually seeing one was viewing their X-wings and blockade runners through viewports – usually the thruster end. But it had never really occurred to him that the enemy had a face.
The Wookie was a novel sight for him – he'd never seen a free Wookie before either. The terrified, half-starved Imperial slaves he was familiar with were nowhere near as tall and healthy-looking as this specimen. He had plenty of muscle mass, his fur was glossy and free of snarls, and his eyes gleamed with bold independence.
But within those eyes was also a deep sadness, not only the pain of losing his friend, but the accumulated sorrows of a lifetime that exceeded his own. It struck him that this Wookie had been traveling the galaxy long before Piett's grandfather was born, had seen the Republic and Jedi Order in their days of glory. He had viewed firsthand the Republic's fall and the rise of the Empire. For a moment he had a crazy desire to pull the creature aside and ask him what those days had been like, if he'd ever come in contact with a Jedi, if he'd had family or friends lost to the Empire.
Instead, his gaze moved to the Fosh. She had a peculiar alien beauty that might have intrigued him under different circumstances. But her right eye had been darkened by an interrogator's fist, her feathered crest was in frightful disarray, and her white medic's coat was badly rumpled and stained with blood – her own or some other unlucky soul's, who knew? And like the Wookie, her burnt-orange eyes betrayed a lifetime of pain.
Her plight was far from unique – no non-human born under the Empire's reign escaped unscathed. Being alien was a crime as far as the dictatorship was concerned, and aliens of any species could expect enslavement, abuse, genocide, and other atrocities from most of the human populace. But it had never actually registered in Piett's mind that such practices were beyond immoral but brutal and cruel – until now.
Had circumstances been different he might have approached her and attempted to comfort her, tried to apologize for anything he might have done to contribute to her people's suffering.
But he turned his attention to the princess. Again the pain in her deep brown eyes, again the agony accumulated over a lifetime. But foremost in her eyes were the freshly torn wounds of losing her beloved.
He watched the drama unfolding before him in fascination, watched the pirate and the princess exchange one final moment of closeness before he was forcibly hauled away from her. The fact that the enemy was comprised of living, emoting beings was never so clear to him before now. Never before had he imagined the Rebels being anything beyond malicious, crazed terrorists, let alone friends and lovers.
The Emperor himself stepped forward to activate the carbon-freezing chamber, breaking off Piett's study. A sudden loathing filled his chest at that moment – hatred toward this disgusting insect of a man and his homicidal lapdog, hatred toward the emotionless clone soldiers standing guard like so many paper cutouts, hatred toward an Empire that swept aside lives like so many game tokens at heartless leaders' whims. How could anyone, human or not, stand there and SMILE while inflicting pain on sentient beings?!
"I love you," the princess whispered.
"I know," the Corellian replied.
And he sank out of sight as the freezing process began.
It was at that precise moment that Admiral Piett's loyalties shifted dramatically. The Rebellion and Empire would record it differently, but in Piett's mind he had defected the moment the smuggler's body descended into the carbon-freezing apparatus. He had seen the other side and sympathized with their plights. And in doing so, he found he couldn't go back. He couldn't serve an Emperor who derived pleasure from oppressing and torturing his subjects.
He would no longer defend the Empire. He would fight it!
The question was how, though. He had no idea how to contact the Rebellion and so couldn't join them directly. He supposed he could leak information to likely sources or commit some minor sabotage on the battlefield, but somehow that didn't seem good enough.
Perhaps a single, decisive blow was what he needed. One act that would do considerable damage to the Empire and let the entire galaxy know his true allegiance, even if it resulted in his murder at a Sith's hands. Could he attempt to assassinate Kain? Not a chance; he was a fair pilot but poor at hand-to-hand combat. Kain would slaughter him. Could he release the princess and two aliens and aid them in their escape? But he couldn't be sure they'd make it off the planet alive.
A slab of carbonite emerged, the visage of the smuggler etched in all his agony on the surface. The Ugnaughts shoved it to the floor with a tremendous crash, and Lando bent over it to check the poor man's vital signs.
"Did he survive?" rasped Kain.
"Yes," Lando replied, voice thick with relief, "and he's in perfect hibernation."
"Good," the Emperor crooned in a voice as smooth and cold as marble. "He's all yours, Madam Sing. Reset the chamber for Skywalker, and take the princess, Wookie, and medical officer to my ship."
/Skywalker!/ That was it! He'd go find Skywalker and warn him! That would give him a chance to escape, and the Sith would be denied their prize! He had to strain to keep an exultant smile off his face, though it would have been the first he'd worn in over a year. He knew he would be rewarded for his actions with an excruciating death, but in his mind it would be worth it.
Stormtroopers herded the remaining Rebels in one direction while workers fitted repulsors to the carbon block and pushed it in another direction. Kain and the Emperor stalked off yet another way, exchanging some heated words with Lando.
Piett managed to slip away unnoticed. If there was a time to act, he theorized, it was now.
---------
Cloud City was in an uproar. The Baron Administrator had just announced over the citywide PA system that the Empire was in the process of taking over the city, and he advised everyone to evacuate as soon as possible. Few citizens of the city harbored any loyalty toward the Empire, and the result was mass pandemonium as panicked civilians flooded the streets and air traffic became hopelessly snarled.
That was perhaps the only reason why the arrival of a former Sith and the galaxy's most wanted Rebel went largely unnoticed.
"Good stars!" exclaimed Vader in dismay as they leaped down from their fighters. "Kain and the Emperor certainly know how to complicate things."
Luke rolled his eyes. "Great. What else can go wrong?"
A hideous screech, and Rusty's dome exploded, showering fragments of steel and circuitry upon the two fighters and a horrified Artoo.
"Please don't say that again," Vader advised.
"Sorry."
Two Gotal gas miners and a human frozen-dessert vendor, the latter still clutching his portable freezing unit, almost crashed into them in their attempt to board an already overcrowded shuttle. More hysterical citizens clogged the streets, making it nearly impossible to travel. Few people paid the two Padawans any attention, and those that did recognize Vader's mask were generally too intent on getting out of the city to think much on it.
"There's got to be a better way to find the others," snapped Vader, sidestepping to avoid the headlong rush of a pack of hysterical teenagers.
Luke heartily agreed. It was going to be impossible to find their friends in this bedlam.
The flash of a gray military uniform attracted his attention. He turned to see a gaunt, haggard-looking Imperial officer beckoning frantically from a doorway, a desperate expression on his face. For a moment Luke was suspicious of the man's intentions, but his instincts told him to trust him. But what could he want?
"Vader," he hissed, inclining his head toward the man.
"An Imperial?" Vader asked skeptically.
"I don't feel like he means us any harm," Luke said by way of explanation.
Vader didn't seem convinced, but he followed Luke through the doorway.
The Imperial bore the insignia of Admiral upon his breast, but it didn't look like he'd worn the title very long. He could have been described as handsome once, but he seemed prematurely aged somehow, as if his new duties had taken a disastrous toll on him. When his gaze rested on Vader, Luke fully expected him to erupt into hysterics. Instead, his face lit up in understanding.
"Then the rumors are true," he breathed. "You joined the Rebellion."
Vader stared blankly at the man. "Who are you?"
"Admiral Piett of the Stardestroyer Executor," he replied. "But you probably wouldn't know me, as I was a mere ensign when you… changed your affiliations."
"I don't think he'd know you anyway…" began Luke.
"Luke," Vader cut off. "He doesn't need to know everything."
"Oh," he replied sheepishly. "Uh, can we help you, Piett?"
Piett's gaze returned to Luke. "Skywalker, run!" he urged. "This is a trap! Darth Kain and the Emperor plan on carbon-freezing you and taking you back to Corusant as their captive! Get away, far away!"
Luke was stunned. Why was an Imperial putting his own neck on the line for him? "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I've served under Kain for too long," he replied harshly. "I've seen too many atrocities firsthand to justify serving that insane hunter and his sadistic master any longer. I had to do something to disrupt their plans, and this was the only way I could see to do it." Having vented his emotions and looking much better for it, he took a deep breath. "Now go! With the evacuation in progress, no one will notice your departure."
"Indeed they won't," Vader replied. "Because we will not leave Bespin without our friends."
"But…" protested Piett, crestfallen.
"It's called loyalty," Luke told him not unkindly. "It's a trait common in the Alliance. We won't have our friends suffer when we can do something to prevent it." He smiled. "What you can do to help us, though, is contact the Alliance."
Piett's jaw dropped open.
"Use the code B814-03," Vader added. "Tell whoever answers that you have the authorization of Commander Skywalker and Second Commander Vader. Tell them we need reinforcements to liberate Cloud City."
His face broke into a wide grin. "I can do that."
"Thank you, Piett, and welcome to the Alliance," Luke told him. "Now hurry."
Piett nodded and took off at a brisk jog.
"That was unexpected," Vader noted.
"But it worked to our advantage," Luke replied. He took a moment to study the hallway they were in. "Whoa. Where are we?"
The white marble halls of this building were oddly quiet, especially compared to the chaos outside. Luke had never entered a palace before, but he couldn't imagine this place being anything else.
He listened closely. Deep in the bowels of the building he thought he could hear blaster fire. Imperials, no doubt. And the Force confirmed that his friends were in there as well.
"They're here, Vader!" he exclaimed. "Let's go!"
But Vader was gazing in a different direction, as still as a nekk intent on a scent.
"Father, c'mon!" he urged.
As if waking from a dream Vader turned to Luke. "You go, Luke. I'm needed elsewhere."
What the stang did that mean? "Why?"
"I don't know. A tremor in the Force…" He motioned for Luke to continue. "Go. I'll be a few minutes behind you."
"I'm holding you to that," Luke replied only half-jokingly, and he sprinted down the hall.
Vader watched him go, then strode off toward the lower levels of the building.
--------
The holoscreen flickered out as the Emperor switched it off.
"Fool," Kain hissed. "Does Piett think we're oblivious? That the cams all over the city are just decorations?"
"We'll deal with Piett's treason later," Piett replied. "Our primary concern is that Vader is on his way here and Skywalker is in the Baron's palace. I'll handle Vader, but Skywalker is your responsibility. Subdue him and bring him here."
"Yes, my master."
"Now go."
Kain stepped down from the platform and stalked off, the blasts of steam transforming him into a ghostly silhouette. Palpatine grinned wickedly. Skywalker would be no match for his apprentice. He would soon be theirs. But it would be far more difficult to convince him to join their cause. Oh well. They'd cross that bridge when they came to it.
Vader, however… he would be a pleasure to turn. He served the Rebellion out of blissful ignorance, not true loyalty. Once he showed the man the true nature of the Force, though, he expected he'd change his tune.
/Then/ he thought, /we'll see which side of the Force needs balancing./
----------
Like a dark bird of prey Kain swooped through the hallways, drawn by Skywalker's presence like a sando aqua monster to the scent of blood. His hands clenched at his sides as he anticipated the hiss of sabers, the euphoria of adrenalin, and the cold embrace of the dark side. Lust pounded through his veins… blood lust.
Skywalker would die today.
A locked door impeded his progress – but not for long. He wasted no subtlety in his impatience but released his pent-up frustration. The door exploded, and slabs of ragged metal scattered before him as he strode on without slackening his pace.
No Skywalker would join the Sith. Not while Kain bore the title of Sith Apprentice. They were Jedi, unworthy of being called comrades. They only deserved to be crushed underfoot to make way for the reign of the dark side.
He sensed Skywalker's presence around the bend. Activating his saber, he grinned savagely and rounded the corner.