Upon returning to the Executor, Piett brings me news of the pursuit of the rebel fleet. Many of their transport managed to evade our blockade- thanks I'm certain to that bumbling imbecile Ozzel- but the Millennium Falcon, the ship I watched blast its way to freedom, has not yet made the jump to light speed.

"Track it," I order. "Be sure that this one does not escape," I add tersely as I head for my quarters to send a report to Master Sideous.

Barely had I completed my message, and had taken a few moments to breathe unaided in the safety of my hyperbaric chamber, and then I hear the hiss of the doors to my quarters open. Piett…I sense. I open the chamber as my helmet is lowered to my head, sensing his shock at the sight of my bare, disfigured head.

"Yes, admiral?" I ask as I face him at last.

"Our ships have sighted the Millennium Falcon, Lord; but it has entered an asteroid field, and we cannot risk f.."

"Asteroids do not concern me, Admiral," I interject impatiently. "I want that ship, and not excuses."

"Yes, Lord," he replies, as I close the chamber once again.

Waiting…how I loathe it! Perhaps if I were not surrounded by idiots the Falcon would already be in my possession. Yet such is my life…for now. The Executor, along with several other destroyers, has followed the renegade freighter into the asteroid field. All around me I hear reports of the destruction of our fleet, of the damages incurred by all the ships, including my own; but I don't care. I will have that ship, for I am convinced that it is the key to finding my son.

"And that, Lord Vader, was the last time they appeared in any of our scopes. Considering the amount of damage we've sustained, they must have been destroyed," declares the holographic image of Captain Needa, as the image beside him cringes in agony and then evaporates.

"No, Captain," I assert, "they're alive. I want every ship available to sweep the asteroid field until they are found."

As the holographic images fade out, Piett rushes over to me. "Lord Vader!"

I turn to him. "Yes Admiral, what is it?"

"The Emperor commands you to make contact with him."

"Move the ship out of the asteroid field so that we can send a clear transmission," I command and then leave Piett.

"Yes, my lord," he replies as he watches me leave.

He knows… I reflect as I make my way to my quarters. I focus my mind, determined not to make him privy to my innermost thoughts, my most private dreams of my son, and what I have planned for him. I relax, knowing that though Sideous is strong with the Force, I am still stronger than him in many respects. He won't learn anything from me…I am determined that he won't.

I approach the comm. Station, kneeling as the image of my Master materializes before me.

"What is thy bidding, my Master?"

"There is a great disturbance in the Force," he begins.

"I have felt it," I concur noncommittally.

"We have a new enemy," Sideous continues. "The young rebel who destroyed the Death Star, I have no doubt this boy is the offspring of Anakin Skywalker. is that possible?" I respond, managing to sound incredulous at his declaration.

"Search your feelings, Lord Vader," he replies mildly, with condescension, obviously enjoying the fact that he knew of my son's existence before I did. Or so he thinks…"You will know it to be true. He could destroy us."

"He's just a boy," I reply cautiously. "Obi-Wan can no longer help him."

"The Force is strong with him. The son of Skywalker must not become a Jedi."

"If he could be turned he would become a powerful ally," I suggest slowly, as though the idea were just dawning on me.

Sideous considers this for a moment. "Yes, he would be a great asset," he agrees. "Can it be done?"

"He will join us or die, Master," I say, bowing low, closing my mind and my heart from his scrutiny.

"There will be a substantial reward for the one who finds the Millennium Falcon," I announce as I look over the motley crew of beings assembled before me. I have decided that the collective intelligence of the officers under my command is insufficient to meet the challenge before them, and so I have recruited more reliable means. I can sense the disapproval, even aversion of the officers on the bridge, who seem to think themselves superior.

"You are free to use any methods necessary," I continue, "but I want them alive. No disintegrations," I stop before Boba Fett, a particularly notorious mercenary.

"As you wish," he replies from beneath his mask.

I dismiss the assemblage and am almost off the bridge when Piett rushes over. "My lord," he says, "we have them!"

We shall see about that…I reflect, not allowing myself to get hopeful. According to Piett, the Avenger has the rebel freighter in its grasp, the Falcon having finally emerged from the asteroid field. Impressive piloting to manage that unscathed, I reflect.

"I want updates on the pursuit," I tell Piett. "Every five minutes. Do you understand?"

"Of course, milord," replies Piett. "I shall send word to Captain Needa at once."

Sometimes I wish that someone had the ability to surprise me, to impress me with their brilliance…but that does not happen when one is surrounded by imbeciles. Not 20 minutes has passed since the Avenger sent word that it had the rebels at bay when the Captain of the said ship, Captain Needa, arrives on the bridge of my ship to apologize for losing them. He has barely pronounced the words, which turn out to be his last, when my patience snaps and I reach out with the Force, strangling the idiot where he stands.

"Apology accepted, Captain Needa," I say as I stride past his inert form on the bridge deck. I signal for the body to be removed I approach Piett.

"Sir, our ships have completed their scan of the area and found nothing. If the Millennium Falcon went into light speed it will be on the other side of the galaxy by now," he reports grimly.

"Alert all commands," I command. "Calculate every possible destination along their last known trajectory."

"Yes milord," replies Piett smugly. "We'll find them."

I grow irritated at his complacency. "Don't fail me again, Admiral," I snap back, pointing an accusing finger at him before I leave the bridge.

Bespin…..that is where they are headed…It was not my own men who have given me this information but rather a bounty hunter. Ruthless and yet reliable, Boba Fett has contacted the Executor with word of his pursuit of the Falcon. It seems that the rebel ship is without its hyperdrive, which gives us a huge advantage. The element of surprise shall be ours, as we lay a trap for our quarry.

I, along with a garrison of troopers, head for Cloud City, and arrive there just before dawn. Our arrival has not gone unnoticed, for we are met on the landing platform by a man who introduces himself as being the administrator, Lando Calrissian.

"I wasn't aware of any problems that required the attention of the Empire," he says, trying to hide his fear, without success.

"There is no problem, Calrissian," as I stride into the corridor. "I am asking for your cooperation in catching a criminal, that is all."

I can sense the alarm growing in the simple minded man. "Criminal?" he asks suspiciously. "Now wait a minute, Lord Vader, we don't harbor criminals here," he declares. "I don't know what..."

"A ship is on its way here at this moment," I interrupt. "The captain and crew of this ship are enemies of the Empire. I expect that you will cooperate with me in apprehending them when they arrive."

I walk away from Calrissian, leaving him to ponder what exactly cooperation will entail.

The bounty hunter, Boba Fett, is waiting for me in one of the small reception areas off the main corridor.

"Name your price, Fett," I say without preamble, not wishing to deal with the vile character any longer than necessary.

"I want Solo," he says.

Interesting, I ponder. "Why?"

"The bounty on him is big, huge," he replies. "He owes Jabba the Hutt a lot of money."

I nod in understanding. I know all too well how the hutts operate.

"You may take him to Jabba the Hutt once I have what I want," I reply. "I have no doubt that this trap will bring Skywalker to me."

"Skywalker?"

Calrissian has followed us into the briefing room.

"Who is that?" he asks.

I grow annoyed with the simpleton. "Who he is need not concern you," I reply curtly. "You have a part to play, Calrissian; be sure you do it well."

He frowns, put out that he is not going to be let in on my plans.

"I'd just like to know what's going on," he protests. "After all, I am in charge of this facility."

I almost laugh at his pomposity and self importance. "For now," I say mildly, enjoying the panic that has begun to creep into his microscopic brain. "Be ready for Solo's arrival," I tell him. "And be sure that nothing goes wrong, or this facility will not be yours to control any longer."

I leave them both, anxious to spring the trap.