CHAPTER V
Three heavily armored battle cruisers emerged from hyperspace just outside the Alderaan system.
"This can't be right." A surprised first officer on the flagship Immolator turned to his tall, skeletal commander. "There had to have been a mistake in the coordinates programming. This is Alderaan"
"Indeed it is." Eschai Tarkin smiled with satisfaction. He stood at the ships bridge, hungrily eyeing his path to infamy." A world of cowards, whose shield of neutrality is about to crumble."
"But our orders..."
"Do as you were told, Lieutenant!" Tarkin snapped. "We answer to no one, save the President." Tarkin turned back toward the viewport. "And he answers to no one at all."
In wedge formation; the Immolator on point, the Corses and the Typhon at her sides, the Imperial ships began firing on an unsuspecting Alderaan. Concentrated laser fire randomly snaked across the planet's surface, leaving paths of death and destruction. Supremely confident of his conquest, Tarkin had begun his attack leisurely. Leisurely, simply waiting for Alderaan's rotation to present him with his ultimate target. For a few moments he reveled in the wanton terror his weapons must have been causing on the planet below. It was, he mused, much like a game of Vector . He had only to wait for the capital city to come into his line of fire. These few minutes of target practice gave him pleasure. It also gave the planet's leaders time to surrender.
* * *
Celis Organa's worst nightmare was coming true; and it hadn't taken long for Neiamas Palpatine to strike back at Aerolone Mothma through the planet she represented. Mere days.
Celis, Besantilier and Linaire had been summoned from their private box during a performance of the Royal Academy of Dance, Linaire listened intently as Celis conferred with her Defense Minister and Einar Antilles. Bes sank back into the limo's cushioned seat, trying to block out the voices.
"Thon was hit badly." The Minister recounted grim statistics. "Hundreds of thousands are dead on Ilmanin, your Majesty. They're just sitting out there... waiting!"
"The arrogant bastards!" Antilles swore. "They think we're defenseless!"
"We would have been, except for your wisdom."
The Defense Minister looked to Celis for encouragement. She had none to give. Following Bail's suggestion, Celis had authorized the construction of a massive, ionic laser dish just outside the Capital. Organa had surmised, rightly , that should Alderaan be attacked the aggressors would want the capital intact. Invasionary forces would be landed at the spaceports within hours, and the entire planet would be subjugated. Celis had prayed that her husband would be wrong; but wagered the freedom of her people on the assumption that he was right.
Now all their fears were confirmed; but no one had foreseen the events as they were now occurring. To watch as the unprotected half of Alderaan became a target area! Knowing that people were dying took it's toll on everyone in the command center. It had looked so good, so efficient, as an abstract plan. Celis dealt well with abstracts. Now that she had to act on reality, not concept, bail Organa's wife was being torn between her intellect and her emotions.
A supremely confident voice was being received on the palace comm. in ten minutes, by Tarkin's calculations, Alderaan would be his. Now that he had gotten their attention, he would force a humiliating, formal surrender.
"They expect us to surrender." Antilles bit each word off sharply. Celis Organa sat stiffly at the huge control console that dominated the reinforced operations bunker beneath the palace.
"We have to make our first shot count. "She spoke softly. "We may not get a second. I suppose we are fortunate there are only three."
"The activation coding has begun." The Defense Minister announced.
* * *
In a far corner Besantilier trembled in terror, wringing her hands as a feeling of cold dread settled over the bunker. Alderaan was being attacked; her babies were in danger.
On the tracking monitors those ships looked formidable and Tarkin's smug voice droned on as both sides waited for perfect alignment.
The firing mechanism on the giant laser dish had been designed to be activated in stages, as a safeguard. The initial code was known only to the Defense Minister. Now, as the seconds sped by, Einar Antilles added his portion. All eyes were fixed on the ashen face of Celis Organa as the tracking controllers called out the rapidly narrowing margin between target and weapon.
During the entire proceedings. Linaire had remained with Bes, trying to calm both their fears. Now that the tension in the room had charged the air. Linaire pushed through the scientists and analysts who stood like statues watching approaching doom with silent disbelief.
'...surrender or be destroyed. You have one minute before bombardment of the capital begins." Tarkin looked to his first officer and smiled. Victory and glory belonged to those who would seize them; as they were about to seize the galaxy's most prestigious world.
Prayers were being murmured in the command center as Celis keyed in the final code. A sharp siren sounded; the ion cannon was ready for firing.
"We're all going to die!" Besantilier lost the last vestige of control and flung herself toward the reinforced blast doors. "This is a tomb! Let me out! My babies must live!" Frantically she tried all the door controls as Antilles tried to draw her away.
"Please, my Lady!"Einar tried to calm the distraught woman. "The safest place is here."
"You don't care!" Bes screamed. "Your family isn't going to die! Take me out, Einar. If anyone can save my children, you can!"
"Three seconds." The computer announced.
Celis' finger froze above the firing button. "I can't do it."She whispered. "Bail..."
"Two seconds." Came the automated voice.
"For all our lives," The Defense Minister pleaded," Fire!"
Jolted into action, Linaire's voice startled them all. "Die you bastards!" As she screamed, her hand came down over Celis. Tracking sensors working perfectly, the laser dish emitted a meter wide bolt that streaked skyward.
"Your time is up!" Tarkin's voice snarled over the comm unit. "Alderaan is ours!"
If Tarkin hadn't been so intent on destroying Alderaan, he would have routinely scanned the surface and the bolt that struck , and hulled, the Immolator would never have been. Neither would the following two; they hit and destroyed the Corses and reduced the Typhon to a burning hulk.
As the remains of the three attack ships drifted into space, the command center on Alderaan was eerily quiet. Only Bes, sobbing, softly, could be heard.
"It's over. "The Defense Minister finally spoke. Celis put an arm around the still trembling Linaire. "Over?" She murmured in disbelief. "It's only begun."
* * * * *
It was a different man who rejoined Bail Organa's fleet. The Jedi General, returning alone, looked as though he had escaped the fires of hell and bore the scars.
Organa waited for the saucer shaped freighter's boarding ramp to lower. An ominous feeling came over the Admiral as the decontam crew began checking Vader's ship.
Through the elongated viewport, Bail could see Kenobi, motionless. Fearing that his friend might be seriously wounded, the Admiral motioned for the emergency team. Before the hatch could be cut open, it lowered; and armed search squad proceeded Organa into the ship.
The interior was deathly quiet. Skywalker and Vader were nowhere to be seen. The only light came from the ships bridge. As the door slid aside, the pilot's chair turned slowly. Obi-Wan Kenobi looked at Organa with eyes as old as the stars.
"I've lost them both, my friend," The Jedi whispered." Anakin and Darth."
"They're dead?" the Admiral gasped as he sunk into the navigator's seat.
The silence was deafening. Kenobi was a man lost in a nightmare of his own making. "Far worse than dead. I could not turn Vader and Anakin lost his life because of my weakness."
"I grieve with you, my friend," Bail shook his head sadly. This was a devastating blow indeed." But we cannot take time for our own sorrows. We must go on."
"Your faith is stronger than I thought," Ben smiled sadly. "Hold fast to it. It will guide you through the dark times to come."
"Darker than this?" Organa ran his fingers through his hair, expelling fatigue and frustration with a deep sigh. "Our cause is lost, Ben. The Republic...we will continue to fight, but...over four thousand were lost in this last campaign. Were they wasted? Do any of us even remember what we fight for?"
Kenobi closed his eyes momentarily, as if preparing himself ,mentally before he spoke. Then he leaned forward, intent.
"You never really knew." He began enigmatically." We are in the wrong place at the wrong time, my friend; and there is more at stake than the Republic. Much more. But, I can do no more. I must go."
"Go?" Bail countered angrily. "What hope is there if a Jedi would run?" Now, when help was needed most, Bail Organa-the Admiral- simply could not fathom Kenobi, the man he most admired, leaving. And Ben knew that he could not.
"I do not know where hope is; but it is not here and it is not now." The Jedi sighed. "I tell you I can do nothing now. All I can do is wait."
"Then you will wait on Alderaan," Organa replied firmly. "You are right. Save yourself. If no one else survives the Jedi must. Go to Celis, Obi-Wan, help her. You will be safe on Alderaan. this madness is near it's end. If the Force ordains it, I shall join you there."
The Jedi studied his friend; feeling his anguish, his sad resignation. Neither of them had dreamed they would see the Republic end so tragically. Neither of them wanted to believe that all the courage and sacrifice of beings of justice and honor would not be enough to save it.
Organa rose, as did Kenobi. They embraced, saying goodbye; two mourners of a way of life that was dying. Obi-Wan held the younger man by the shoulders.
They were two warriors who hated war. It was not in either of their natures to accept defeat; and it was vital that Bail Organa look for another kind of victory.
"It's not our fight any longer, Bail. We are good warriors, you and I, but in your heart I know you are a man of peace. Our time is past; we could all sacrifice ourselves and it would come to nothing now. The Force is being manipulated on a higher level than ever before. All the galaxy could not prevail against it until the time is right. Even then it may fall to one." Kenobi stopped, as though trying to see beyond to what would come, but the images would not clear.
"One?" Organa was puzzled." You?"
"No," Kenobi replied. "The Light itself will choose it's champion. We can only pray that we live to see who it chooses."
* * * * *
The bodies lay deep in a lava filled crevice, as Avernus' major volcano destroyed itself in a spectacular explosion. One man stirred. Barely conscious.
He screamed in the deathly silence as black ash began to fall upon him. In torturous jerks, he moved his arm, crawled his bloody fingers beneath his clothing. Milliseconds from death, Darth Vader placed the glowing crystal in the charred hands of Anakin Skywalker. He had given his life for the thing; he would not give his soul.
Closing his eyes at last, he felt free.
Death deprived Darkness of a valuable tool, and it forced it to concentrate all it's attention on a much more reliable participant.
The galaxy's new President slept, protected by a hand picked squad of guards. He slept, and he dreamed; and in his shadowy dreams there was no need to consider image or opinion. Just power, and great, dark glory.
A mind and soul already so corrupt welcomed the Darkness that penetrated his core. Not like the Jedi whose body it had abandoned in a pit of fire. That one had resisted, until the confrontation with the two men...the other Jedi. They had almost overcome it there. Almost. They were strong, those disciples of the Amidaa; especially the younger man.
They no longer mattered. Only the crystal did; but the Jedi had taken it with him to his doom. Palpatine! Palpatine would use it! Palpatine would get it.
* * * *
By every estimation Anakin Skywalker should have been dead.
He felt as though he had died when the steam and lava and boiling gases ignited his clothing, then ate away at his skin and hair. Then the pain overcame consciousness. Only an iron will had kept his destroyed body alive. He would not succumb to death. Skywalker refused to meet death as his training had prepared him to do. But the pain made him mad-scoured his brain of all control. Sanity dissolved in the roiling lava that consumed his flesh. Over and over he screamed for help, but no help came. He could not move, could not see; but far worse was the abandonment. He could sense nothing-no comforting presence through the Force. His friend, his teacher, had deserted him.
Anakin screamed in horror and rage as he lost consciousness. But the Kaiburr was doing it's work; for the Force that nourished Skywalker's will to live activated it.
Seared eyelids opened slowly, looking up through clouds of steam to see four hooded figures, meters above the on the fissures edge. All feeling was gone from Anakin's extremities; he couldn't even feel the crystal around which his fingers were fused. All that he could sense was that he was being lifted, at last, from certain death. Lifted toward the shrouded forms at the surface.
The Jedi? Had Kenobi returned after all? Anakin Skywalker was being saved, nothing else mattered. He would live! To those who were granting him life, he would owe everything.
* * * *
"SHE'S GONE!"
Linaire's hands were shaking as she operated the comm console switches. She had searched the palace thoroughly, discovered Besantilier's suite had been emptied of all her belongings, then contacted Celis Organa at her offices.
"She must have left hours ago. I was asleep." Linaire's mind was racing; trying to think of where Bes would go. She should have anticipated it. Tarkin's surprise attack had left Besantilier an emotional wreck. Her dreams of a safe sanctuary on Alderaan had been shattered; leaving her terrified for the safety of her unborn children and desperate to escape.
Now it looked as though she had.
"Check with the servants." Celis instructed, thinking furiously." Perhaps she was taken to the medical center. Calm yourself. I don't think she would have left without saying anything, but I'll contact the spaceport."
Assembling the servants confirmed Linaire's worst fears. A young driver reported that he had taken the Lady into the city over an hour before. Celis learned the rest.
A very distraught Bes had taken a commercial shuttle to the nearby Lorinth space station. The pilot didn't know her final destination, but it was plain she intended to leave the system.
Linaire turned to a frowning Einar Antilles. "We have to stop her. She had no place to go, Antilles. She's not rational."
"I think I know where she would go." Einar volunteered. "But, if we hurry, we can stop her before she leaves the station."
* * * *
In the space station's commercial terminal Bes sat, crying, surrounded by her luggage and an oblivious crowd of aliens and humans. She had attempted, unsuccessfully, to book passage on a deep space passenger transport. Her destination was not exactly popular among the majority of travelers and no commercial carrier would divert a route or schedule to accommodate one passenger.
The only option left to her was to engage an independent pilot; but all of the credits she offered could not persuade any of the reputable captains to take a woman in her advanced condition to the outer rim.
Across the terminal, a group of Corellian pilots, young and boisterous, were trading the latest obscene jokes as they lingered over their flameouts. One of them, a tall, impeccably dressed privateer whose dark hair blended with a rakish beard, found himself glancing at the young woman despite his determination to ignore her.
"C'mon, Madine," One of his companions needled." That's the oldest trick there is. You're not gonna fall for it!"
"Look at her." Madine gestured toward the weeping woman. "Somebody should help her."
"Not me!" The other Corellian swore, downing his drink in one gulp. "She's headed to some backwater system, I've heard. Vettor made that mistake...the kid was born on his ship and he's still payin' child support!"
"Well, my ship's faster than that wreck Vettor flies and, besides," Madine shrugged," I can charge her triple!"
In moments, Besantilier was on her way to Tatooine.
* * * *
Obi-Wan Kenobi gazed out of his ship's curved viewport with a heavy heart.
Before him, gleaming blue and iridescent white against the starry background of interstellar space, was Alderaan. As far away from the ugliness of war as this place was, the Jedi felt it very much with him. They would look to him with hope when he landed; with all the hope and trust that the galaxy had placed in the Jedi for generations.
Obi-Wan would have given his life to undo the events of the past few days. It had fallen to him to be the survivor, for a purpose he could not foresee. The grim bearer of guilt that would haunt the remainder of his days and news that would alter lives.
* * * *
Celis Organa was at the spaceport's main terminal, waiting in the communications center for word from Lorinth, when an unexpected voice contacted them instead.
"Alderaan control," Obi-Wan dropped his freighter into standard approach orbit. "This is the starship Justice requesting landing clearance."
"We have you on our scopes." A controller replied efficiently.
Celis didn't recognize the ship's name, but the voice was unmistakable. "Identify yourself, Captain."
Before Kenobi could answer, Celis' voice greeted him. "Obi-Wan, is that you?" She breathed, with a sigh of relief. "The Force must have sent you! Besantilier has disappeared. Antilles thinks she has gone to Tatooine to wait for you."
"Bail has sent me, Celis." Kenobi replied gravely. "It is imperative that I land and speak with you immediately. Bes will be safe until I join her."
"You don't understand," Bail Organa's wife sounded frantic. "Bes left here terrified. We were attacked by three reform battleships without warning and, even though Bail's plan for defense saved us, Bes was badly frightened. She no longer felt safe here and her babies are due anytime. Go to her-before something terrible happens!"
Kenobi didn't need to hear any more. Without further conversation, he pulled his ship away from Alderaan. Celis watched as it faded from the tracking scopes, feeling hopeful for the first time in months.
* * * *
Tatooine was as barren and isolated a world as Rison Madine had ever seen, A few poor settlers, one ramshackle spaceport; nothing for a sane human or anyone who could afford better. Why a young noblewoman, so near to giving birth, would want to be dropped off at a crude homestead dozens of kilometers from the nearest humans, was a mystery. It wasn't his place, however, to delve into the private business of his passengers. This was a just another lucrative run.
The tall Corellian helped the young woman with her belongings, carrying them into the sparsely furnished dwelling. It looked dusty and deserted, but the girl seemed relieved to be there.
"I can't thank you enough, Captain. "Bes smiled wearily as she pressed a large packet of credits into Madine's hand. "Your kindness has saved us. Here is the fee we agreed on, plus a thousand extra for your trouble."
In a sudden attack of conscience he didn't know he had, Madine started to protest; then he took the money reluctantly. It was bad enough that he had criminally overcharged a desperate woman, now she was giving him a bonus. There might, he thought, be something to good-deed-doing after all!
"Thank you, ma'am." He managed sheepishly. "Listen, are you sure you'll be alright, alone? I can take you into town-what passes for one anyway. I mean, you don't even have a sender."
Touched by his concern, Bes nevertheless declined the offer. She expected someone soon, she explained, sending Madine on his way, Actually, she felt very safe in Kenobi's small hut, as though she belonged in this lonely place, even though she had seen it only once before. It didn't seem like so very long ago that her husband had brought her here to meet the renowned Jedi who would train him. Now she would wait for Obi-Wan. Her faith in that Jedi was unshakable. Bes knew that he would return to Tatooine very soon; just as she knew that the children she bore would forever alter the course of history.
* * * *
Another with his mind on future history was Neiamas Palpatine, for he would shape it!
As President of the Senate, he wasted no time grasping the lines of power that the High Council had, for so many generations, foolishly ignored. Palpatine regulated and consolidated all shipping; immediately alienating the independents who were forced to give up their livelihoods or find themselves criminals. Of course, there had always been a small percentage of trade that was subversive, Corellians for the most part, but they posed no threat to a plan as vast as Palpatine's. The age-old Merchanters Guild bore the brunt of his 'new legalities', but his control spread it's tentacles beneath the surface of every agency, every political and civilian institution that comprised galactic civilization.
It was not only Aerolone Mothma who recognized Palpatine for the aspiring despot that he was now. All the signs of total oppression were on the horizon for the astute to see. Many denied the possibility. Others felt powerless.
Aerolone acted.
She hastened to organize the bands of dissidents Palpatine so feared into cohesive fighting units capable of standing between the President and his ultimate goal. What no one expected Palpatine to do at such a critical point in time was leave on a 'goodwill' visit to his home system. Ostensibly, it was to allow citizens a chance to interact with their leader. His true motives were much more sinister.
Neiamas did not possess a shred of consideration for the inhabitants of that system or any other. On his home planet, however, was something that interested him greatly-the body of a Jedi that had been pulled from a molten pit.
The Jedi was a dividend. What Palpatine really wanted-what the Dark within him craved- was the crystal. Palpatine had ordered the Jedi taken to a laboratory of sorts. He was placed on life support apparatus and left alone.
The Jedi's mutilated body bore almost no resemblance to anything human. Arms and legs were twisted and burnt to the bone. His hair was gone, his head blistered and oozing, as was his back. The once powerful man had been reduced to a blackened torso, breathing reflexively, clinging to life.
"What have we here?" The four, robed figures that preceded Neiamas Palpatine into the room took up their places on either side of the table where Skywalker lay.
"Vader, my Lord." One hollow voice replied. "A fallen Jedi. he can be saved."
Palpatine's reddened eyes narrowed as he closely inspected the body before him. In the right hand was the Kaiburr crystal, glowing softly. Palpatine smiled; the expression looked unnatural on his sunken face. Darkness was pleased, indeed!
It knew- as it knew all- that this was not Vader, not the human who had done his bidding before the Jedi confronted him. Vader, in the end, had failed him, had chosen the weak side of the Force in the fire pits of Avernus.
Skywalker presented a delectable challenge.
Here was a man so basically good it was repulsive. Even the misfortune and pain would not be enough to prepare him for corruption. That would require craftsmanship. Deception and illusion would be the tools.
"Wake him up!" Palpatine ordered.
Drawing Skywalker from his self-induced unconsciousness was not quickly done. There, pain was a memory. He saw his wife, held out his arms as he walked to her in the mist...but a blinding flash of pain and fire dissolved her. He reached for her, calling, desperate to touch her. Anakin Skywalker woke to agony and found he had no arms at all.
"NOOOOOO!" His anguished scream echoed repeatedly through the dark."Kenobiiiii!" A dark, hooded shape leaned over him.
"Why do you call for the man who left you to die? You have been fortunate, Vader. It is I who have the power, and the compassion, to make you whole again."
Anakin, in torment, screamed against what he heard, what he saw, what he knew.
"The Jedi have brought you to this end." The hooded form continued. "Kenobi used you! He meant for you to die! Did you not see that he was threatened by power such as yours?"
Skywalker was lost in a whirlwind of conflicting images, but he screamed out again, and again.
"That's not true!"
"He envied your power!" The Evil One snarled. "He envied your youth...even your beloved wife!"
"That's impossible!" Anakin shrieked." You cursed demon!"
Palpatine held up a pale, prosthetic arm, still glistening from preservative. He held it before Anakin's eyes.
"I have been called many things," He replied, caressing the cold limb with a faint smile." You shall call me Master , and I shall never lie to you. See!" He brutally pried the crystal from Anakin's hand and held it up to his face.
"Even now, as you lie in agony, your valued friend goes to your wife!"
Rage and pain and hatred overwhelmed the last vestiges of Anakin Skywalker's control. The room began to shudder with a low, ominous rumbling that unnerved even the Dark itself. He was losing the Jedi; for Anakin was losing his mind.
To reach that mind, and control it, Palpatine touched the head of the one he called Vader. Instantly, the Force itself repelled him, hurled Palpatine backward against the opposite wall.
Helped to his feet by the faceless sentinels, the President stumbled shakily to the door. With a pause to control himself, he turned to cast a cold, appraising stare upon the mutilated Jedi.
"The choice is yours, Vader." He said with casual cruelty. "You can hold to your useless honor and delusions and die, betrayed and forgotten; or you can accept what I offer you. Your only option is life as my servant or the death the Jedi left you to. Think on it!"