"In Need of Wings"
Chapter the Thirtieth
Vader still wore his black suit as he stood beside his apprentice. Wind pulled at his cloak and hair. Fists clenched at his sides, he stood tall and terrifying, his new mechno glove glistening under the arclight on either side of the Processional Way. Lips the color of black ice, pursed in thought. Half a dozen stormtroopers, Vader's mark painted blatantly on their helmets, guarded him with rifles drawn. Yellow, empty eyes tiled up as his mechno fingers idly wandered to his belt.
The sky of Coruscant was on fire.
The first wave of rebel gunships had penetrated the Imperial blockade, at the expense of their own lives, in a spectacle everyone on the ground watched in horror. The second wave now poured through the atmosphere like a plague. Anti-vehicle artillery cannons poured blasts into the sky, destroying any unfortunate ship that got hit into a brilliant, bloody display. The rest landed on the ground, cutting through city streets as their turrets rained down on stormtroopers and other Imperial defenses.
Everything was on fire.
For miles in any direction of the Imperial Palace, Vader and Ahsoka heard the sirens screaming over each other. Saw the searchlights tilt back and forth. Felt the ground tremble with every bomb dropped on the planet. In the Force, they could hear every civilian's scream in the final seconds before they were killed. First there had been only dozens. In less than an hour, they had already topped ten thousand.
But Vader did not seem phased by the Force's heavy reek of death. This had become normal to him. Death no longer repulsed him…it welcomed him, like an old friend who had stayed by his side all along. For in the end, there is always and only death, and the only embrace once the Dark Side is home. Death becomes the only mercy in a cruel galaxy, and darkness the only outcome once every star burns out and every wing is severed.
Vader turned to her as he drew his lightsaber with great, precious care.
"It's time to put your training to the test, Snips," he said calmly. "Think you're up for it?"
"I'm always up for pleasing you, Master," Ahsoka purred. "There is just one thing I don't understand. How did the armies already manage to come this far? I thought the Empire was strong…"
"If the Armies of Twelve had taken longer to form, it would buy us more time to fortify our armies and defenses. And it seems that Senator Amidala has been a strong voice against the Empire." He seethed slightly at mentioning her name, then let out a small laugh as if he had just thought of a bittersweet inside joke. "She's…very persuasive. Sure knows how to make anyone fall to their knees in front of her and take orders."
"So it's Padmé that's done all this."
"With help. Everyone wants to take the Emperor's place. It's all just a play for power, Snips. You remember when I taught you about that during the last war."
"I remember you taught me many things."
"Huh." Vader turned towards her. "Then show me how much you remember."
"Master?" She stood up and felt the first pangs of fear in her bones. It had been years since she had been in a battle. Would she be rusty? Would she make mistakes? Would she disappoint Vader?
"Take your infantry division and lead them for a counterattack." Vader pulled out his com and activated a holomap showing the city as well as dozens of red marks indicating the enemy's location. "These are all the points we've detected gunships landing on the surface. The cannons can only do so much. Rebels will be spreading into the city and using sneak attacks against us. We need to cut them off from each other so they can't regroup. Isolated, we can stop them faster." He shut off the holomap. "Oh, and one more thing…Master says no prisoners."
"I…understand, Master."
In minutes she had donned her armor and descended the steps of the Imperial Palace with her lightsabers, stormtroopers marching behind her, as she led them into the chaos of the city.
Her eyes ached, looking out to the fires lighting up the indigo sky and spreading across the horizon of Coruscant. With every step, the weight of so much death grew heavier on her, until she felt her own body was about to crush her.
She had come so far. Trained so hard. Let herself be bruised, burned, and cut for Vader. Let the Dark Side into her head to twist every thought against any last shred of hope, and forget who she used to be.
If she failed now, everything she endured would be for nothing.
All she had suffered…suffered for Master…would be lost. She might as well have never become his apprentice again in the first place.
I could kill Barriss. That wasn't so hard because she ruined everything. She was guilty. She…helped take me from Master. So that means she deserved what I did to her.
But these rebels…how will I know if they deserve it? What if they don't deserve to die?
Can I kill them anyway?
Can I murder innocent people?
Bane took another dose of pills. He held on tight to the cable, the heels of his boots brushing the edge of the gunship. Another ship not far from them was hit by blasts from the artillery, and Bane had to duck to protect himself from some of the flying debris.
"Captain, are you all right?" Sergeant Korla asked.
He nodded and adjusted his armor piece on his shoulder for what must have been the twentieth time since takeoff. Armor always did have an uncomfortable feel to it.
"Why, you nervous?" He noticed the young Togrutan was trembling. So were many others standing beside him in the gunship. Young, wild, and scared soldiers.
"Yes, sir."
"What are you afraid of, Sergeant Korla?" he hollered over the chaos of battle.
"Afraid of dying, sir!"
With a half smile he turned away, thinking to himself, I can't even remember what that's like anymore.
He calculated that their chances of survival before hitting the atmosphere of Coruscant were less than half. Of hitting the ground, thirty percent. Of lasting more than a day in the invasion, probably ten percent.
Silently, in spite of his orders and his duty to Ami Dala, Bane prayed he wouldn't make it. It would be easier that way. No care for who won the war if you never live to see the end of it.
Besides, should he survive anyway, which he knew he wouldn't, all the Duros had to look forward to afterwards was a life in shambles, since not even the greatest war against the Empire could take back what had been stolen from him. His reputation would still be in pieces. So what was the point? He could always be careless on the battlefield…let a sniper or accidental friendly fire finish him off quickly. End all of this hell for good.
Bane readjusted his rifle and stole a glance at his men, all waiting for the signal to land. He saw the city glowing with flames and explosions below. The first wave of rebels were taking it the hardest, dying over and over.
He could not help but smile. What were they dying for? For another politician to tell them what to do? For another government to be rebuilt on ideals until corruption tore it from the bottom up? Did every rebel throw themselves at the enemy for pure sentiment?
At least he knew what he would die for. He was dying for revenge.
Padmé watched the live feed of Coruscant with tears in her eyes. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the table. Loose strands fell over her eyes.
As General of her army, she thought she would have had the power to stop the madness. That maybe, for once, she could be on the side of a war that did not resort to becoming the enemy in order to destroy them. No more blood on her hands. No more innocence traded for power. No repeating the mistakes of the last war.
She had been wrong.
Buurenaar was determined to make a statement against the Empire in the form of widespread murder. To Mandalore, the citizens of Coruscant were just as guilty as the Emperor himself. Bombs were constructed to be dropped on the planet, with the intent on killing millions, perhaps billions of people who never wanted a war or an Empire. And to Mandalore, the massacre would hopefully be enough to intimidate the Empire into unconditional surrender.
And there was hell to pay.
Reasoning with them became pointless. Since Buurenaar's fleets were already five times stronger than Ami Dala's, it left Padmé with little voice left. Operation Daybreak, from the beginning, was intended for victory at the heaviest cost.
The General of Ami Dala turned to Sabé, who was fighting not to let anyone see her cry. The room was dead silent as the two women watched.
"Did you ever think it would come to this?" Sabé whispered, to which her companion shook her head and turned away from the sight.
"I always knew it would. It's how this world works. Any light is burned out before it can guide the way." She shut her eyes, remembering when she had seen her last hope of the Republic snuffed out, and its death was a spectacle cheered on by millions of lost, blinded souls bound to the nightfall. Remembering when she watched the light fade from her husband's eyes as he approached her. He would have Force choked her, possibly killed her, if she hadn't sliced at him with her dagger, buying her enough time to escape him. And then she remembered when she felt the light leave herself as she held her two stillborn infants, so perfect and peaceful, never to know the color of the sky or the sensation of grass between their tiny toes.
"We knew this would happen. No matter what choice we made, we knew many people would die." Sabé did not take her eyes off the screen. "And under the Empire, more would die too."
"So we have to be like the Empire to stop them. That's the reality of war," the former Queen of Naboo said with bitterness. "It's our reality until this is all over."
"If it ever is over." Sabé turned away, unable to bear the sight of Coruscant on fire anymore.