Chapter 2
The Mystic was a small, simple, somewhat boxy freighter. The kind used by package delivery companies for smaller cargo runs. It was a common enough model, which was why it hadn't aroused much suspicion when it had arrived three days prior.
Imperial Intelligence had been hard pressed to gain any information about possible Rebel activity in the system for some weeks, so when a particularly astute cargo manager at Courescant's star port had commed, inquiring about a delivery shuttle that had been sitting idle for two days, Intelligence had begun a background check on the cargo transport, Mystic.
The routine report had turned up nothing significant at first. The ship had been purchased from Billinar Cargo Transport some six months prior, the purchaser listed as Ilios Ilecerka, a botanist from Yag Duhl. Records revealed that the ship had been flown to Rori for an extensive refit at Hassenhoff's Personal Transport Company.
However, deeper inquiries that would have taken several days were stepped up and revealed that H.T.C. had been a suspected Rebel front for a number of months. Instantly, the Mystic was placed under covert surveillance.
It was due to this surveillance, that Imperial Intelligence was able to intercept and later decrypt a short burst message that was beamed to the Mystic.
The message simply read. "Bilar Computations – 2100 hrs"
When Imperial Decryptionists had unscrambled the code, they had only forty-five minutes to scramble a security team to the location.
Suddenly, this simple, unobtrusive freighter had become very, very important. Initially, operatives had asked for permission to enter the craft and perform a search. However, when an order came down from Lord Vader that the craft was not to be touched, no one considered objecting.
Darvic Estonine smoked his tabacc stick with nervous fervor as he listened to the approaching footfalls that he knew were the boots of at least a squad of Imperial Stormtroopers. When Lord Vader himself and another man preceded the troopers, Darvic quickly dropped the tabacc stick and stamped it out.
He heard an audible gulp from the man standing beside him.
Darvic was an average sized man, in good physical condition, with dark grey hair and clear dark eyes. The typical Imperial Intelligence agent. His features were handsome, but not too memorable, his voice was as easily captivating as it was forgotten. By contrast, the cargo manager next to him, one Alsric Symone, was bald and portly, his bald head beaded with sweat the moment the flowing black shape of Darth Vader came into view.
"You didn't say anything about Lord Vader coming don here personally," he managed to squeak.
Darvic locked his eyes on the approaching entourage and fixed on the man behind and to the side of Vader.
"I didn't know he was coming," he answered Alsric absently.
The man behind Vader was large, both in stature and build, knotted with muscle and dressed in simple pants, hide boots and a primitive looking dark hide vest. A belt hung loosely about his waist and several items dangled from it at various points.
While the size and musculature of the man was indeed noteworthy, it was the inhuman golden color of his eyes that fed his sense of fear the most. They shone with a pitiless light that Darvic could only call unholy.
"Captain Estonine," Darth Vader said as he came to a halt before the two men. Behind him, the gleaming stormtroopers snapped to a halt.
"Greetings, My Lord," Darvic nodded his head once with military precision.
Vader's helmeted head turned to look upon the nervous Cargo Manager.
"Is this the man that contacted us?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," Darvic replied when it was clear by Alsric's pallor and expression that he was incapable of answering on his own.
"Master Alsric Symone," Darvic finished quickly.
Vader's gaze stayed on the portly manager, as if sizing him up. Then the helmet nodded once. "You have done well, Alsric. You will find some credits have been deposited into your personal account as thanks from the Empire."
"Uh, thank you, My Lord," Alsric managed to splutter.
Vader waived his hand in a dismissive gesture and the terrified Alsric exited the room as quickly as his portly frame would allow him.
Vader stepped up to the conference room window that looked down upon the hanger bay. He quickly spied the six agents who had mingled in with the regular ground crews. They went about their business, just like any other worker, but he could sense their duplicity through the Force. They were all waiting for someone to try and enter the ship. All of them eager to spring the trap.
"Commander," Vader said without turning.
Behind him, the first stormtrooper stood a bit straighter.
"Sir," his voice issued through the speaker on his helmet.
"Conceal yourselves in the main corridor outside this hanger and wait for my signal." Vader instructed.
"Yes, sir." The trooper replied. In unison, the entire squad did an about face and marched quickly back the way they had come.
"Captain Estonine," Vader resumed, once the three of them were alone. "Has there been any activity around that ship?"
"No, My Lord," Darvic replied smartly. "As far as we can tell, the ship has remained idle since it was discovered. Apart from the initial transmission we intercepted, there has been nothing at all from the Mystic."
There was an audible thunk as the big man set his back pack on the conference room table.
"Master Ayala?" Darth Vader asked as Huntir drew a compact EE-3 Carbine rifle from the long pouch hanging at his right hip, behind his pistol holster.
"I'm going into that ship," Huntir said simply. He checked the charge on his weapon and thumbed off the safety catch.
"Indeed?" Vader asked with a touch of amusement that even his vocal augmenter could not hide.
Huntir stepped to the window or the conference room and looked down at the dark view ports on the front of the ship.
"You can keep this ship under surveillance until the sun explodes, Lord Vader," Huntir said. "It would do no good. Whoever owned that ship is not coming back."
"And how do you know this?" Darvic asked. There was more than a touch of suspicion in his voice.
"Because, the people that were supposed to fly it are now decorating the floor of the Emperor's office. If there were any other accomplices, they would have been back here by now and tried to take the ship."
He turned and strode out the door
Vader turned to Darvic. "Are there any other vessels that have been parked here, or in any nearby ports, for an extended period of time?"
"I'm quite sure there would be dozens, My Lord," Darvic replied. "Sloops, yachts, personal transports, everything from Scyk Light Fighters all the way up to Corellian Corvettes."
Vader considered for a moment and then turned in a swirl of dark fabric and followed Huntir.
"This is Captain Estonine," Darvic said quickly into his com. "Lord Vader and an associate are coming to inspect the ship, do not react, repeat, do not react."
Darth Vader came up behind Huntir as he examined the entry pad on the Mystic's hatch.
"You can bypass this?" Vader asked.
"Yes," Huntir replied. He pressed a few random keys and heard the irritating tweedle of an improper entry code. Then he stepped back and a little to his right as he raised his blaster.
"And if the hatch is trapped?" Vader asked.
Huntir smiled coldly as he aimed at the keypad. "Then we can both go together, My Lord."
Jellianna came around the corner and quickly ducked into the Star Port. She tried to remain calm and push the horrible images from her mind as she moved down the corridor and towards the main hanger entrance.
As she passed one of the closed doors in the main terminal corridor, she heard the muffled, but unmistakable sound of stormtroopers, speaking idly through their com units.
Alarm bells sounded in her head. She slowed her pace a bit and scanned a nearby bank of monitors. A local city transport was about to dock at the adjoining transit station. At most she had five minutes to either get the Mystic and get out of here, or find another mode of transportation. She checked her chrono again and saw that she had less than an hour to get off planet and make the jump to light speed if she were going to make her rendezvous.
The corridor was only moderately busy, with commuters going to and fro on errands as numerous as their numbers.
She made her way to the collection of flat screens that showed arrival and departure information for the various commercial flights in the port and pretended to study them as she looked beyond into the hanger.
The place was dark and nearly deserted. Only a few techs moving back and forth within the large chamber that she could see.
She had just summoned enough courage to make her move when she saw him, stepping towards the ship. She froze as she watched the strange butcher that had killed her friends began to tap keys on the entry pad.
A second figure, even more ominous tan this butcher soon joined him. Her mouth fell open and her blood ran chill when she saw Darth Vader step up next to her ship.
The man stepped back away from the hatch and fired one blaster shot into the keypad. Then a second into the hatch itself.
"Can I help you, miss?" A clipped voice asked politely from behind her.
Jellianna practically jumped out of her skin. She spun around and forced a nervous laugh.
Standing behind her was a young man, about twenty, in the uniform of a port steward. He was young and not unattractive, with a sincere expression on his face. He also jumped a bit when she spun around.
"You startled me," she said, putting a hand over her heart.
"Sorry about that," The young steward said. Then his eyes flicked up to the flat screen.
"Oh," Jellianna continued. "Do you know what the delay is with flight nine forty, from Talus?"
The steward offered an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid all traffic, in and out has been halted for the time being."
"Really?" Jellianna feigned surprise. "Why?"
"I'm afraid I cannot go into the reasons, Miss," The steward replied. "But it looks like the delay may be a lengthy one."
Jellianna nodded, looking back up at the flat screens and watching as all the arrival and departure notices changed from schedules times to the word 'DELAYED' in rapid succession.
"I see," she said.
Huntir Entered the Mystic preceded by the short barrel of his blaster carbine. His golden eyes checked the main hold. Behind him, the massive bulk of Darth Vader followed him in, his heavy boots thudding on the deck plates.
Huntir paused and sniffed. The air was stuffy and dry, but there was an underlying musk that the scrubbers had not eliminated.
His boot slid gently back and forth across the floor in front of him and a small, knowing smile crept across his lips.
"You've found something?" Vader asked.
"Perhaps," Huntir replied. He resumed moving towards the flight deck, his weapon leading the way.
They finished a quick check of the ship, finding no other passengers in hiding. Then Huntir slid into the small seat at the navigation console and began keying in commands.
After a few moments, he realized that his efforts were a waste of time. He closed down the console.
"They have wiped the data core," he said dutifully. "Probably did it in orbit, before landing."
"So you don't know where the ship came from," Vader said, clearly displeased.
"I didn't say that," Huntir replied as he began searching the various small storage compartments for clues.
"The ship came from Tatooine," he continued as he rifled through another compartment. "Mos Eisley, if I am not mistaken."
"And how would you deduce that?" Vader asked.
I can smell it in the air of the ship," Huntir explained as his massive arm stretched into another compartment. "And there is no sand like that of Tatooine. Some of it is on the floor, just inside the hatch, so, that is where the ship came from."
"And why, Mos Eisley?" Vader's normally menacing growl had a slightly lighter tone to it. It was as if he was actually interested in how Huntir had arrived at his conclusions.
"Well," Huntir continued as he moved to another storage compartment. "Mos Espa is a Rebellion hub, we all know that…to leave from there would be inviting suspicion. Bestine is in Imperial control, so they never would have been able to land there in the first place, let alone leave. Anchorhead does not have the facilities to handle a ship such as this, and Mos Veris was deserted and demolished a number of years ago."
His arm froze and his smile widened.
"Mos Eisley is a known smuggler's den, despite the Empires best efforts to clean it up. It's controlled by the Hutts, which keeps the Imperial presence at bay, and affords enough back alley opportunities, that a ship like this would not even be noticed. They could come and go as they please."
His arm drew out a wadded bundle of light purple cloth.
"Or, rather, she could," he corrected himself.
"She?" Vader asked.
Huntir held up the cloth. "This is a dancer's fleshwrap. A revealing little number used by entertainers of various species."
He reached back into the compartment a second time and felt about.
"The absence of a matching lekku wrap suggests that it belongs to another humanoid species."
He raised the cloth to his nostrils and sniffed.
"Human," he said after a moment of consideration. "And since this is not regular garb for your average citizen, I would say further that we are looking for a young, attractive woman."
"I see," Darth Vader nodded.
Huntir finished his inspection of the ship, but found nothing else. As they stepped down the ramp and back onto the hanger floor Darth Vader noticed one of the port stewards standing near the large open entrance, speaking with a young woman. Her fiery red hair shone like copper in the garish light of the hall.
He stretched out, through the force and touched the young woman's mind. Instantly, he discovered her fear, despite her calm exterior. She was running from something.
"You said a young, attractive woman," He said as Huntir came down the ramp behind him.
"I did," Huntir nodded.
"She is there," Vader pointed at the entrance.
Instantly, Huntir's weapon shot up and he aimed at the woman. Then the steward, completely unaware of the situation, moved into his line of fire.
"Troop commander," Vader said in his comlink. "Deploy now. Target is a young, red haired female, standing outside the main hanger."
"My Lord," the Stormtrooper Comander replied sharply.
Huntir ran forward, his weapon raised.
"Wait," Vader ordered, but it was too late.
The young woman saw the massive man coming towards her, saw the weapon pointed at her, and reacted. Her foot came up in a vicious round house kick, smacking the jaw of the steward. His body spun away and slammed into the ferrocrete arch before bouncing back across her body and collapsing onto the floor. At the same moment, she darted from view as Huntir fired a single shot which struck the flatscreens behind her.
The flatscreens exploded in a shower of sparks and fragmented machinery. The flash momentarily blinded him and he stumbled the last few steps before reaching the hall.
He raised his rifle for a second shot, but the girl vanished around the corner out of sight.
Further down the hall, the stormtroopers came jogging quickly from the opposite direction.
"That way!" Huntir shouted, pointing at the spot. "She went that way!"
Then his throat seemed to constrict suddenly and his weapon fell to the ground.
Turning, he saw Darth Vader stalking towards him.
"I told you to wait," he said in a menacing growl.
Instinct overrode everything else, and the big man lashed out with his ebbing strength towards the glowing panel on Vader's chest.
Vader easily deflected the blow, but the distraction had been enough. Blessed air flowed into his lungs just before he was flung against the far wall, beside the shattered flatscreens.
The fresh air exploded back out of his chest with the impact and he slid to the floor.
"Do not defy me," Vader said with barely contained anger.
"I apologize," Huntir choked out as he struggled to rise.
Vader turned to the prone form of the steward lying nearby. The man lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling with vacant eyes, his nose smashed into his face. The result of the kick was clear. It had propelled the man into the wall, where that impact had shattered the nose, sending the fragments of bone deep into the man's skull. He was dead.
Vader looked at the body once more and then back at Huntir. Then he turned and walked down the hall towards the branch that the spy had taken.
The stormtroopers emerged in an orderly group, out on the rainy street of Courescant and fanned out in their search, searching among the masses for their quarry.
A few moments later, the ominous form of Darth Vader also emerged, his dark helmet searching left and right as the crowds moved nervously past him.
Some stopped in their tracks, while most simply diverted from their planned path and moved quickly away. There wasn't a citizen in the Empire that did not know the reputation of Emperor Palpatine's first lieutenant. No one wanted to be the focus of the Jedi's attention.
"I'm sorry, Lord Vader," The Stormtrooper Commander said. "We lost her."
"Clear this street and set up a perimeter," Vader ordered. "Find her."
"Sir." The stormtrooper snapped a salute and turned, speaking through his comlink.
Huntir stepped up behind Darth Vader, his golden eyes scanning the receding masses.
"She's gone, Lord Vader," He admitted. Then he frowned and moved down the street towards a public trash incinerator. Reaching in, he withdrew a crumpled jacket – her jacket.
Smiling, he held the coat up and sniffed it. The scent was identical to that of the wrap within the Mystic. The same female.
"She is the one," he said. "She has the data."
"Troop Commander," Vader wheeled to face the Stormtrooper Commander.
"Sir," The trooper responded sharply.
"Call out as many men as you need," Vader ordered. "Seal off every star port, search every private pad, I want that girl found and brought to me, alive!"
"Very good, sir." The stormtrooper replied.
TBC
