Chapter 2
Rebel troops lined the walls of the hallway adjoined to the main entrance. Muskets trained on the door were shaking as sweat poured over every face. Facing the Empire was not a pleasant idea, especially for an inexperienced group like this one. The tension in the men's hearts grew with every thunk, every footstep, every muffled voice they heard on the other side of that door. Then suddenly, the footsteps receded. But there wasn't even enough time to finish a sigh of relief. The door exploded in a blaze of fire and black smoke, sending splinters of wood into the defenders. Men clutched broken faces, bleeding limbs. Only a few Rebels began to fire back as volley after volley from Imperial guns were sent through the doorway with tactical precision. Men clad in bulky white armor began filing through, avoiding the rubble, fire, and bodies strewn about. Every Stormtrooper carried a black rifle in his white gloves.
In the midst of the Stormtroopers, a man with a menacing, commanding air about him stepped through the still-dissipating smoke. He wore solid black over his entire body. His cloak and tall collar hid his frame and most of his head. He wore a mask of cloth and a thick triangle of metal over his mouth with grooves that gave the impression of teeth. Metal ran down over his throat. If one looked very closely, though the chance would seldom arise, one could distinguish the black slits in the mask which were the pupils of his eyes. Even the Stormtroopers instinctively moved away from this man. The few Rebels left in this area of the ship ran in sheer terror, whether or not they knew this was Darth Vader, right hand of the Emperor.
Elsewhere in the bowels of the Tantive IV, a woman quickly scrawled something on a piece of gold stationery and handed it to the short man in the white robe, who stuffed it into the case he carried with him. The woman wore her brown hair in coils on the side of her head and a simple yet elegant white dress. She was beautiful, and had an air of royalty and defiance. She was also doing a good job looking as though she was not afraid.
The tall man in yellow, See Threepio, entered the small room. "Artoo Detoo! Where are you?" The young woman said one last thing to Artoo, and watched as he joined his companion. "At last! Where have you been? They're heading in this direction. What are we going to do? We'll be sent to the mines of Kessel or smashed into who knows what!" Artoo, ignoring Threepio's scolding, hurried down the hallway. "Wait a minute, where are you going?" Artoo chirped back a confident and gallant reply.
The Rebel officer in Darth Vader's grip struggled in vain to loosen the fingers around his neck. An Imperial officer standing by gave his report: "The Death Star plans are not in any of the safes." Vader kept his grip tight as he asked, "Where are those documents you intercepted? What have you done with those plans?" Vader lifted the man up. The Rebel's face grew even more pained, and his feet dangled a foot off the floor. He managed to speak. "We intercepted no documents." He gasped for breath. "This is a consular ship. We're on a diplomatic mission." Vader squeezed tighter and tighter, bones snapping, as he said, "If this is a consular ship, where is the ambassador?" With that, Vader tossed the dead, limp body against the wall.
Vader turned to the
officer at his side. "Commander, tear this ship apart until
you've found those plans, and bring me the
passengers. I want
them alive!" The Stormtroopers immediately split up and hustled
away.
The young woman in the white dress huddled behind a open crate of weapons labeled "First aid." She was in the same room she gave the message to Artoo in, waiting, with a musket in her hand. She hardly blinked as she watched the door. Before long, the lock was shot off, and three Stormtroopers walked through cautiously, looked around, and lowered their rifles. The woman immediately leaped from her hiding spot and managed to get off three shots into the chest of one of the Stormtroopers. The first bullet embedded itself in the armor, the one that came behind it slammed it in, and the third finished the man off. She didn't have to take in her satisfaction of there being one less Imperial in the Islands. She grimaced from the pain of a gunshot to her foot. The Stormtroopers made no attempt to stop her when she toppled over. "She'll be all right. Inform Lord Vader we have a prisoner."
Artoo clambered over debris and made his way out onto the deck of the Tantive, Threepio doing his best to follow. The ominous shape of the Leviathan-class loomed high over them. Artoo hopped into one of the life boats, and chirped for Threepio to follow him. "Hey, you're not permitted in there. It's restricted." Artoo responded in a rude tone of voice. "Don't call me a mindless philosopher, you overweight glob of grease! Now come out before someone sees you." Threepio's eyes widened at Artoo's protest. "Secret mission? What plans? What are you talking about? I'm not getting in there." Threepio nearly fell over when part of the deck they were near exploded. Flames inched closer to the duo. Threepio saw no alternative but to jump into the lifeboat. "I'm going to regret this."
A cannoneer saw a lifeboat leaving the Tantive four, headed for the close-by desert island of Tatooine. "There goes another one." He grabbed his torch and prepared to blast them away with his cannon. "Hold your fire." His commanding officer stood near. It's just a couple of workers, running away. Don't waste your ammunition."
Now far enough to be safe, Artoo and Threepio could row more slowly. Threepio looked thoughtfully at the Imperial and Rebel ship. "That's funny. The damage doesn't look as bad from out here." Artoo chirped his resply. Threepio, skeptical as always, said, "Are you sure this thing is safe?"
The young woman in the white dress was led down a corridor by a group of Stormtroopers. If the bullet wound in her foot hurt, she didn't show it. She didn't even limp as she was brought before the Dark Lord of the Sith. The woman had never seen him, but recognized him unmistakably. She had heard the stories, but was determined not to show a flicker of fear. "Darth Vader. Only you could be so bold. The Imperial Senate will not sit still for this. When they hear you've attacked a diplomatic--"
"Don't act so surprised, Your Highness. You weren't on any mercy mission this time. Several documents were carried to this ship by Rebel spies. I want to know what happened to the plans they brought you."
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a member of the Imperial Senate on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan--"
Vader pointed his finger right in the woman's defiant face. "You are a part of the Rebel Alliance and a traitor. Take her away!" When she was dragged out of earshot, an officer voiced his opinion to Vader, a dangerous thing. "Holding her is dangerous. If word gets out it could generate sympathy for the Rebellion in the Senate."
"I have traced the Rebel spies to her. Now she is my only link to finding their secret base." The officer had noticed the young woman's spirit. "She'd die before she tells you anything." Vader responded, quite coldly, "Leave that to me. Send a distress signal and then inform the Senate that all aboard the vessel were killed." Another officer approched them and snapped to attention. "Lord Vader, the battle plans are not aboard this ship. And no Rebel personnel left the ship. A lifeboat was jettisoned during the fighting, but there were only two workers on board." Vader answered, "She must have hidden the plans with the workers. Send a detachment to retrieve them. See to it personally, Commander. There'll be no one to stop us this time."
"Yes sir!"
