Summary:
An accident reveals an old deception, and Darth Vader must make a decision that will change not only his life.
Chapter 10
Contrary to popular believe, the night was not the best time for breaking and entering on Coruscant. The planet-wide city never truly slept, but its human and alien inhabitants tended to be more alert, watch out more for potential trouble during the night than in the daylight hours. Old instincts die hard.
And that was why Wrenga Jixton lowered himself into the sewers not two city blocks away from Darth Vader's palace in broad daylight. Wearing brightly colored coveralls, high boots and a tool belt, he looked like just another maintenance worker. None of the passers-by gave him a second glance; in the midst of the crowd going about their daily business, he was as good as invisible.
The sewer was nearly four meters across, with a narrow walkway on either side. Glowrods spaced on the walls every few meters gave an eerie light. Small noises, amplified and distorted beyond recognition by the strange acoustics of the underground sewers, reached Jixton's ears, adding to the spooky atmosphere. A darkish, stinking sludge flowed between the walkways; Jix took care not to slip on the slick stones and fall into the smelly goo. He would have to step into it early enough.
Jixton consulted his map and set out in the direction of Vader's palace. After a few dozen meters he came to an intersection and turned left. A rat scurried away and vanished into a small crack in the stones.
Half a galaxy away, Darth Vader paced his luxurious quarters on board the Executor.
So I am a traitor now? he thought darkly. I shall give you treason, my Master! You lied to me when you told me Obi-Wan killed my wife. You made me murder my friends. Thanks to you, I never saw my son grow up. You wanted me to kill my own child, you bastard! You turned me into a monster. You kept me under your thumb for more than half my years. Not anymore!
Turning on his heel, Vader strode to the closet and flung it open with enough force to almost shatter its door. Grabbing the standard-issue duffel bag from the shelf, he started to stuff clothes into it haphazardly before realizing he had no means to leave the ship. He needed a transport first. And he needed a plan. Running off half-cocked and angry would only get him killed before he accomplished anything.
Returning to his desk, Vader sat down and called up the ship's maintenance roster, looking for a small transport he could use to escape. A standard TIE would be of no use. The small fighters had no hyperspace capability. His personal TIE had, but it was too easily recognizable. The Avengers were out of the question for obvious reasons. No, he needed something a bit larger. Drumming his fingers on the desk, he scrolled down the list until he found the most likely candidate. A Lambda class shuttle, small enough to be flown by a single pilot, fast enough to escape into hyperspace before the TIEs that would undoubtedly be sent after him could catch up to him, and common enough not to draw too much attention. Vader looked up which shuttle was currently kept fueled and ready for launch. The Tydirium. She would be his means of escape.
But where to go? He could not take Palpatine on all by himself, as much as he wanted to. The tyrant was too well protected, and would be able to sense his ex-servant as soon as entered the Coruscant system. He would be dead before he even reached the planet if he was so foolhardy to try this alone.
No, he had to get help. The obvious solution was to join the Rebel Alliance. But would they take him? Darth Vader had no illusions about how the Alliance members saw him; a ruthless killer, dangerous and uncontrollable. Most likely he would be shot on sight, before he had a chance to explain himself. Vader leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. How to get out of this dilemma? Luke... but Luke hated him. His son, his own child. More so, the boy would never trust him. Too much stood between them. He had killed Obi-Wan. Had tortured the Princess. Taken Luke's hand. Frozen his best friend in carbonite and given him to the bounty hunter, Fett.
Of course, Luke would be able to sense his true intentions, but would he want to touch his mind? And what about the others? Even if Luke spoke for him, and that was a big if, they would probably overrule him. No, he needed...
Vader's eyes flew open when the doorbell chimed.
"Come in", he called, belatedly remembering the open closet and the half-packed bag in front of it. With a flick of his hand, he used the Force to push the bag into the closet and slam the door shut just as a nervous looking Admiral Piett entered his quarters.
"That's him", Dana whispered to his partner Lee, pointing with his chin to a nondescript looking communications officer in the corridor. "You know the drill."
Lee nodded and flexed the muscles bulging under his black uniform. At nearly two meters and with a built to match, most people thought him to be your typical brainless bully. They were mistaken. Lee possessed a quick mind and a highly developed sense of honor. This combination made him an excellent trooper, and one of the best for General Veers' special assignment. Now he picked up his usually unhurried pace until he was close enough to shove his target into the wall.
"Hey! Watch it, man!" the smaller man cried out when he found himself pushed against a bulkhead.
"What did you just say?" Lee glowered at the smaller man. His target gulped.
"N... nothing."
Damn, Lee thought. That was not the reaction he had hoped for. He had hoped for anger; his target outranked him and could demand respect. Never mind, he had to go through with the plan. Roughly, he pulled the smaller man up by his collar.
"No-one calls me clumsy", he growled.
"B... but I didn't..." The target's eyes darted left, then right, searching for an escape route. There was none.
"Now you're calling me a liar?" Lee roared, pushing the man against the wall. From the corner of his eye he could see two stormtroopers coming in their direction, weapons at the ready. Finally!
"What is going on here?" the first demanded. "You are both under arrest", the second added, pointing his blaster rifle at Lee.
"That... that won't be necessary", the communications officer piped up. "It was only a misunderstanding. I am not filing charges against the trooper."
"You? File charges against me?" Lee bellowed. "You push me, call me clumsy and a liar, and now you try to blame me?"
"Enough!" One of the troopers stepped between the two men, jabbing his rifle into Lee's ribcage. The other called for backup.
"You can both cool off in the brig until we sort this thing out."
Lee suppressed a grin; mission accomplished.
Similar scenes played themselves out on different locations on board the Executor, until Veers' men had secured all II agents that Piett had identified. There were only minor injuries, a few bruises here, a dislocated jaw there. All in all, it was a surprisingly non-violent mission.
Deep down in Coruscant's sewers, a stray glimmer of light caught Wrenga Jixton's attention. The ex-combat instructor ducked into a niche in the sewer's wall, breathing as shallowly as possible. Among the many tiny sounds of the sewers he could now make out human voices. Three, possibly four men, and they were already less then twenty meters away, around the next corner.
Sith... they were between him and Vader's palace, and they were coming in his direction. There was no way they could miss him went they went past him. Unless... holding his breath and scrunching up his face against the unbelievable stench, Jixton pulled his blaster, slid into the blackish goo and smeared the smelly mass liberally over his coveralls. He nearly gagged at the stench, but managed to keep still. A few seconds later, a party of three human men passed not two feet above him; Jixton held his breath again, not just because of the smell. His face he pressed against the wall for additional cover. When the men had passed, he risked a glance, but could only see their boots. Standard issue army boots, not like the ones worn by maintenance workers. Like he was wearing now. These men were soldiers.
As soon as the three had turned the next corner, Jixton straightened up and soundlessly hoisted himself on the walkway. He could hardly believe his luck. He had been sure the three must spot him, but they had not. The question was why. They must have accomplished their mission and were on their way out, their defenses relaxed. Amateur behavior like that could get you killed in no time; Jixton at least knew better than that.
But what kind of job would bring three soldiers into the sewers close to Vader's palace? What kind of kreth had the Dark Lord gotten himself into this time? Jixton shed his soiled coveralls and continued on his way, determined to find out what kind of trouble his employer was in. Not that he particularly liked Vader. Nope. Not at all. But he paid well, and they had an agreement. Jixton was well aware that he needed Vader to keep his friends on Aribus safe, and Vader needed an independent agent who could think on his feet, and so they put up with each other despite their differences. Friendship didn't even enter into it. Or so Jixton told himself. Some days, he even believed it.
Carefully, Jixton crept closer to the massive gate that closed off the pipe coming from Vader's palace. The sewer here was dry; nobody was home but the droids, and they didn't produce waste. The gate was closed and locked, but a closer look told Jix that it had been opened recently. Very recently. Taking out one of his electronic gadgets, he cracked the code on the gate and slipped through. No alarm had been sounded so far. A few more steps brought him to a power line and a communications link that connected the palace to the public comm service. Jixton looked the gray box over. It, too, had been opened, and a small device added. The agent whistled through his teeth.
"Now who would dare to bug Darth Vader's commlink?" he asked no-one in particular. Jixton could think of only two people who would. One was Prince Xizor, infamous leader of Black Sun. The other, Palpatine. And Xizor's goons didn't wear the kind of military boots Jixton had seen. "Guess I better call my boss and tell him he's in trouble", Jixton murmured.
Some time earlier on the Executor's bridge, an officer called out to Admiral Piett.
"Incoming Message, Sir."
Piett turned around to face the work pit.
"Sir, it's from the Emperor himself..." the man said in awe. "We're being recalled to Coruscant."
A shiver ran down Piett's spine. That was what he had dreaded for the past days. He nodded. "Carry on, Lieutenant. I will inform Lord Vader", he declared, and left the bridge.
Vader swiveled his chair around to face the Admiral. Piett cleared his throat, unable to look directly at Vader.
"What is it, Admiral?" the Sith asked.
"Mylord, we have received new orders from the Emperor", Piett began. "We are to return to Coruscant immediately."
"I see." Vader took the news calmly.
"Your orders, Mylord?"
Vader stood and walked over to the viewport, looking at the stars. He wished he had more time to prepare. He wished it had not come to this.
"Mylord?"
"Set course for Coruscant, Piett. Best available speed."
"But... Sir..." Piett stuttered.
"Is there anything else, Admiral?" Vader asked, still seemingly calm.
"No, Mylord", Piett replied. He turned to leave when the comm unit beeped. Vader frowned at the unit, but moved to take the call.
"Yes?"
"Lord Vader, incoming call for you, audio only."
Who would call him on board his ship? "Put it through", Darth Vader commanded.
"Hey, Uncle Dee", a slightly distorted voice came from the speaker.
"Jix", Vader acknowledged. "You are not supposed to call me here."
"I'm not supposed to drop in unannounced, either. Did that anyway", Jixton cheerfully replied.
"So, you have called me simply to tell me that you have once again circumvented my security system?" Vader purred. The nerve of the man!
"Ah, come on, Uncle, you know me better than that. No, I called to ask if you had called the repairmen. They were pretty filthy specimen, if you take my meaning. Left some bugs behind."
"I see. And as a dutiful nephew, you decided to inform me of the... infestation."
"You got it, Uncle. Ah, and the company they belong to has Imperial contracts, if you catch my drift."
So... the Emperor had bugged his palace. That was not unexpected. Vader crossed his arms over his chest.
"Thank you, Jix", he finally said. "And incidentally, you are fired." Vader cut the connection before Jixton could mouth a protest.
Vader faced Piett again. "My... nephew", he explained. "He is somewhat of an embarrassment sometimes."
Piett blinked. "I... understand, Mylord." With that, the Admiral turned and fled the Sithlord's quarters. Vader was left alone again to contemplate his next actions.
Half an hour later, Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, Jedi Knight, crept down the Executor's corridors toward the main hangar, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He carefully avoided as many of the ship's crew as he could; those he could not avoid never remembered meeting him in the hallways. Still, Vader heaved a sigh of relief when he reached his destination. The Tydirium was indeed fueled and ready for launch. He boarded her, and lifted off as quickly as possible, even foregoing the pre-flight check. This time, he had to trust the engineers to keep the shuttle in top shape. There simply was no time to be wasted, and no margin for error. The Executor would soon enter hyperspace, and his window for escape would be lost. Setting a course that would take him away from the giant ship, Darth Vader gunned the small shuttle's engines.
"Admiral, a shuttle just launched from the main hangar", a petty officer at CommScan announced.
"Track them", Captain Durreen ordered automatically before Admiral Piett could reply. "Send four TIE's after them."
"Belay that order", Piett cut in. Durreen gave him a bewildered look.
"But, Sir..."
"We have orders from the Emperor himself, Captain. We must not waste his time", Piett explained patiently.
"Uh... yes, Sir." For a moment, Durreen wondered if Piett had gone as crazy as Vader.
"Good." Piett turned back to the viewscreen and regarded the stars. Good luck, Mylord, he thought. You are going to need it.
To be continued