4: Ghosts on the Horizon

Vader swept onto the command desk like a bird of prey seeking a rodent. Technicians and officers alike scattered before him. All except one. Grand Moff Tarkin faced the approaching figure with as much interest as if he were inspecting new cadets. Among the younger officers, there were rumors that Tarkin was immune to Vader's oft-feared abilities. Tarkin himself held no such illusions. His ability to bring Vader up short was the result of sheer willpower.

"Have you executed our guest yet?" the severe-looking officer asked dryly.

"Leave that to me," Vader replied. "I wish to interrogate him further.

Tarkin's mouth curled in a vicious smile. "Do you really believe that he will betray his own people, Lord Vader?" He turned away from the looming figure and faced the main viewport. "His death will show the rebels that their rebellion will be snuffed out soon enough. Keeping him alive accomplishes nothing."

"I will find new ways to motivate him to talk."

Tarkin turned. "Your Jedi powers are formidable, but the word of the Emperor is law. As far as I know, you do not control this Empire. I suggest you hold to our orders and kill the prisoner before it's too late."

Vader raised a hand. "I will inform the Emperor personally when I obtain any useful information. I do not answer to you."

Tarkin smiled again, this time without a trace of humor. "You are on my station, Vader, assisting me in my mission. I answer directly to the Emperor. A word from me and you will be forced to return to the Capital immediately."

Vader stepped forward. "You are unwise to challenge my powers."

"Perhaps, but I am safe in the knowledge that you need a stable command structure with which to work. Mutiny will only clutter up your investigation." He turned back to the viewport. "That is all."

Vader swept out of the room with no less intensity as he had when he had entered, but this time, officers merely stepped out of his way.

Tarkin turned to the navigator, once the doors closed behind Vader. "Set course for Alderaan."

Leia had never been one to make idle conversation, but at that moment, she was doing her best to avoid it completely and stare straight ahead. The sands of the Dune Sea were monotonous, but at least they weren't trying to make friends with her.

"So, how did you end up on a grease pit like Mos Eisley?"

"You first."

Solo grinned. "Work. Your turn."

Leia glared at him. "I have a hard time seeing you as anything other than a scoundrel."

Han began to respond, but paused. "Scoundrel? That has a nice ring to it. What else—"

He was interrupted by a sharp roar from behind him. Solo spun around to face the agitated Wookiee. "In the middle of the desert?"

Chewbacca replied by gesturing to the squadron of stormtroopers that suddenly came into view ahead of them as they crested a dune.

Leia killed the speeder's engines. "Where the hell did they come from?"

Han shrugged and reached for his blaster.

Leia shook her head. Save the heroics for when we actually need some. I'll take care of this.

The lead trooper waved them over to a small shaded dip in the sand. Leia followed, but never lost her composure. Though she had no love for the Empire, she had nothing to fear from them. Looking at the arrayed group of troopers, she noticed a pair of droids in the center of the formation, a protocol droid and an astromech. "What's all this about?" she asked the trooper.

"Imperial business," he replied in a gruff, exotically accented voice. Possibly Nubian, or Mandalorian, she thought to herself.

She spread her hands. "I never saw anything. May I be on my way?"

He inclined his head. "I'd like to ask you a few questions, first."

Leia frowned. "I don't know anything."

"Do you know anyone by the name of Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

Kenobi? Leia tried to conceal her recognition of the name. The unusual hermit came into Mos Eisley periodically to gather supplies. He never made any trouble and rarely spoke to anyone. "Anyone I should know?" she asked out loud.

"He's wanted by the Empire. We captured two droids who are transporting stolen information to him."

Leia shook her head. "I don't recognize the name." Deep down, the small, irrational part of herself which she kept well hidden intoned a silent plea that the trooper would stop questioning her and move on.

The trooper waved a hand. "Fine. Move along, then."

Leia gave a terse smile and turned around just in time to see Han Solo draw his blaster on the trooper who had been questioning him. Before she could say anything, he squeezed the trigger. The trooper was thrown back, dead before he hit the ground, the smoking hole in his chestplate turning a vicious black.

Chaos followed soon after.

The ten troopers guarding the droids all raised their blasters in unison and opened fire on Han and Chewie who promptly returned fire. The Wookiee's bowcaster took out two troopers right away, the force of the bolts knocking them over like they were made of straw. Han's blaster, an outdated Blas-Tech model was weaker, but in the hands of its owner—who was using the speeder as a shield—it forced the troopers to abandon the droids and take shelter behind a small sand dune.

Leia realized very quickly that shouting wasn't going to stop anything. Whatever had caused Han to shoot that trooper was merely an excuse for him to start a fight. Unarmed, Leia crouched behind a small jutting stone. The trooper she had been talking too had raised his blaster rifle on her, obviously expecting her to pull a weapon, but when she had hurled some choice expletives Han's way, he must have realized that the attack was not planned and had pulled her to safety.

At the time, she had been running on instinct, but after a few moments, she realized that his unusual gallantry was very inconsistent with the portrait of Imperial stormtroopers she had met before. Duty and following orders superseded any personal opinions or decisions. Imperial troops were loyal and obedient and, most important of all, absent of any personality or wants. She shot a look at the trooper, his white armor scoured by the sand and desert heat, and wondered what was going on in his head. She didn't even notice that he had aimed his rifle at Han's head and was preparing to decapitate the idiotic, but frustratingly charming smuggler.

She reached out and forced him to lower the muzzle. "Don't shoot him. He's an idiot, but not worth the effort." He resisted for a moment but shot her a terse nod and lowered his rifle. She pulled out a small comlink and pressed a hidden button—a unique modification she had added last year after a team of determined Jawas had almost made off with her speeder while she was negotiating for a personal moisture vaporator from a traveling vendor.

The engines flared to life for a few moments. The kickback from the engines knocked Han on his back and the speeder coasted away, relieving Han of his shield. The sudden movement startled the attacking troopers and they ceased fire long enough for Leia for step between them. "What we have had here is a misunderstanding."

The commanding trooper joined Leia, realizing what she had planned. "She's right."

One of the other troopers raised his rifle on Han. "Sir, attacking Imperial troops is a crime."

"So, we take him into custody, lieutenant," the commander shot back.

"Custody?"

Even through his armor, the commander looked uncomfortable. "The violence ends here." He tossed his rifle into the sand.

Leia blinked. A compassionate stormtrooper? Even Han seemed disarmed by the commander's comments.

The six remaining troopers quickly arranged themselves into formation. The lieutenant raised his rifle at his commanding officer. "Sir, you'd better come with us."

One of the droids, probably the protocol droid, raised his voice. "Someone's coming!"

Everyone present spun to face a hooded figure that was approaching rapidly. He hardly seemed threatening, but the stormtroopers all reacted in fear as if the man was followed by a krayt dragon or a swarm of gundarks. They staggered back and raised their rifles. Leia turned to the commander and noticed that he had raised his rifle too, but was not reacting as strongly as the rest in his squad.

Han turned to Chewie. "What's going on?"

The Wookiee growled a response.

"Don't be silly. There aren't any left."

Leia moved next to the commander. "What do you see?"

He shook his head. "I…I don't know. It's just some being in a robe, but I could have sworn I heard a rancor."

The approaching figure raised his hood, revealing the kindly familiar face of an elderly human. "Hello, there," he said.

The troopers went berserk and fled into the desert, leaving the droids behind. The commander held his ground. "It can't be…" he muttered from behind his helmet.

Leia stepped forward. "Ben Kenobi? What just happened?"

Kenobi smiled. "The Force can have a strong influence on the weak-minded." He let that cryptic comment hang in the air for a few moments and turned to the commander. "I mean no offense, but I'm a little surprised to see you still standing there. Perhaps, you thought you could take on a pair of rancors yourself?"

The commander pointed at Kenobi. "You're a Jedi."

The older man crossed his arms. "I suppose I am."

In a swift motion, the commander removed his helmet, revealing a deeply tanned, scarred visage. "Commander Matau at your service, General Kenobi."

"Kenobi?" came the shocked voice of the protocol droid who was shuffling toward them, followed closely by the astromech.

Kenobi smiled. "Well, this isn't at all what I expected. Come, all of you. Let us get out of this heat."

Leia fell into step behind the motley crew of beings. Han jogged up to her side.

"And here, I thought this trip to see your family was going to be boring."

She ignored him.

What just happened? She asked herself.