Star Wars: Finding The Flaw
Darth Vader's TIE X-1
After the Death Star has been destroyed
With a tremendous exertion of will, Vader reached out with the Force; his tumbling out-of-control fighter ceased its erratic gyrations and steadied itself. He could now fly straight.
But to where? The Rebels had, somehow, destroyed the Death Star. His prophetic warning to Grand Moff Tarkin and the Joint Chiefs had come true. They should have remembered, he thought sourly, that when he was a Jedi he'd had the gift - or curse - of prophecy.
The past, though, was the past. His Master must be informed as soon as possible. But the Yavin system was out of range of Imperial Centre.
A query to the interceptor's computer gave him the answer. Eadu - distant, but there was an Imperial outpost there, where Galen Erso had been based before his death. He could make repairs - and, far more importantly, contact the Emperor. For any craft not hyperspace-capable it was out of reach, but Vader had drawn upon the vanished skills of the Separatists; General Grievous' fighter had had a hyperdrive.
So did the X-1.
He used it.
Imperial Outpost, Eadu
Shortly after
Major Diessa Rogaio sighed as her duty shift began. Yet another day of mindless tedium working for the Empire, she supposed. The Imperial Navy hadn't sounded like this when she signed up on Corellia. Loyal though she was, the thought occasionally crossed her mind that life in the Rebel Alliance might be more interesting.
Albeit shorter.
She sat at her duty station and brought her scanners online, sweeping local space.
As usual, noth-
Hold on.
A contact was showing at the edge of sensor range, closing fast. That was unusual. A tad of excitement at last, she thought eagerly. "Commander?" she piped up.
Commander Willon Voss looked up from his own duty station; he too had expected nothing exciting to happen, but that was life in the Outer Rim. Nothing ever happened here (well, except one time some years ago). "What is it? Stray space débris again?"
"No, sir," Rogaio reported. "Sensors show an inbound contact. Wow, it's fast. Must be a fighter or an interceptor."
Her perked up, interested. "A fighter, you say? Rebel or Imperial?"
She shook her head. "At this distance I can't tell, sir. Its configuration is unfamiliar to me."
Voss frowned. "Strange. Patch through to my station, I'll take a look."
"Yes, sir," she nodded, and did so.
The contact was coming clearer now, he saw. Rogaio was right, it was unfamiliar. Some new Rebel ship, perhaps? No, he saw, zooming in, the cockpit was more reminiscent of a TIE Fighter than anything else, but sensors were reading four ion engines, not two. Its solar panels were unusually angled.
Plus, the sensors had told him, the thing had exited hyperspace.
Whatever the cockpit design (the Rebels were known to jury-rig their ships, often juxtaposing different ship parts in their desperate need, so maybe they'd salvaged gear from a TIE), that meant rebels - for reasons of (among other things) cost, TIE Fighters weren't hyper-capable, whereas X- and Y-Wings were.
"Sound the alert," he decided. "All defence systems online."
"Yes, sir!"
Outside the base, turbolaser mounts swivelled into life, ready to fire. A (small) squadron of TIEs was brought online.
TIE X-1
Approaching Eadu Outpost
Vader saw this, and was unsurprised. Good, he thought. Border outposts, especially in the Outer Rim, tended to be sloppy in their work, but Eadu was proving to be the exception, coming to life with Imperial efficiency. Then again, the Rebels had once caught them napping, and the Empire did learn from its mistakes. But the last thing he needed or wanted was to be shot down by his own side. So he keyed the undamaged transmitter to signal his ID.
Eadu Outpost
Rogaio frowned. "Sir? We - we're receiving a transponder signal from the craft. It's on an Imperial frequency, but one that's reserved for Grand Admirals and Moffs."
Voss also frowned. "Stand by on defences. TIEs are not to launch without my command."
"Aye, sir. Um, if the Rebels have somehow compromised our secure codes…" She trailed off, but Voss knew the implications as well as she did. He scanned the craft himself. Its exterior hull did contain Imperial metals in standard Imperial ratios, and he was reading two powerful laser cannons very similar to those of a TIE. If it wasn't Imperial, the Rebels had done a masterful job of camouflaging it. He could almost admire their ingenuity.
Until he looked again at the IFF signal.
X-01.
That meant…
"Oh, Force preserve us," he whispered, in Imperial blasphemy.
"Sir?"
He took a breath. "All defences stand down now."
Rogaio gasped, "Sir?!"
"That...that's Darth Vader," he breathed, incredulous.
She wet herself in shock. Darth Vader, the Emperor's right-hand man (or whatever - office gossip held that if he wasn't a droid, he was more machine than man owing to some terrible accident or other), was coming here?!
He roused himself. "Honour guard to the hangar bay, now! Launch two TIEs to escort Lord Vader in to land! Now, Rogaio!"
It was the first time in longer than she could recall that he'd called her anything but 'Major'.
Oddly, this warmed her.
"Yes, sir! TIE Alpha-1 and Alpha-2, launch immediately! You're to fly escort duty - and make it good, that's Lord Vader in that craft!"
"Alpha-1 copy."
"Alpha-2 copy. What the kriff is Vader doing here?"
"I haven't the faintest idea - and people with inappropriate curiosity about Lord Vader's doings tend to have short careers, Alpha-2! Just launch and fly escort! Out!"
Voss himself was there to greet Vader as he landed and disembarked. His fighter had, Voss mused, seen better days; one solar panel was badly damaged. Weapons fire? Voss wondered. What had happened? Last he'd heard, Lord Vader was serving the Emperor aboard his new pride and joy, DS-1, the mobile battle station nicknamed the Death Star - inappropriate, given that it was more of a moon than a star, but 'Death Moon' didn't quite work.
Or maybe it did.
Enough, Voss thought. "Lord Vader, this is a very unexpected honour. Welcome to -"
But Vader wasted no time. "You may dispense with the pleasantries, Commander. My ship was damaged in battle and requires repairs. More importantly, I must report to the Emperor. The Death Star is no more - the Rebels destroyed it somehow."
"Destroyed…?" Voss whispered, aghast. The staff exchanged uneasy glances. If the Rebels could do that, then clearly the Empire had underestimated them.
"I must report this to the Emperor," Vader repeated.
Voss managed to recover. "Of course, Lord Vader. I must say, your fighter's design is innovative," he approved, "but I'm not familiar with -"
"It is a prototype I designed," Vader interrupted, "a TIE X-1 Interceptor. Unlike standard TIE designs, it is equipped with hyperdrive, hence my presence." He moved closer, menacingly. "But that is not your concern. Where is your transmitter?"
"The only transmitter we have, my Lord, is in the main control room," Voss flustered, "but of course -"
"Have the room evacuated," Vader ordered brusquely. "I must speak privately with the Emperor."
Voss protested, "My Lord, Imperial regulations -"
"- are whatever the Emperor, or I, declare them to be," Vader overrode him coldly, raising a gloved hand. "Your understanding is not required. Your obedience is."
"As - as you wish, my Lord," Voss managed, imagining the feel of the Dark Lord's Force choke he'd heard about. Top brass rumour had it that Admiral Tagge had attempted to criticise Lord Vader's faith in the Force, and had nearly been killed as a result before Grand Moff Tarkin intervened. He brought up his comlink. "Major Rogaio, have the control room evacuated immediately until further notice."
"Sir?"
"Immediately, Rogaio! Lord Vader's orders!"
Control room
She gulped audibly. "Sir, with respect, you - you should've led with that." She raised her voice. "All personnel are hereby off-duty until further notice! Imperial clearance to be in the control room is rescinded! Everyone out! Now!"
And I, she thought ruefully, will take this opportunity to change my uniform…
Shortly Vader entered the now-deserted control room. A gesture closed and locked the doors. He activated the holotransmitter.
A hooded figure showed. "Lord Vader," the Emperor nodded. "I see you are transmitting on an unusual frequency. And you are not in the usual communication chamber. Explain."
"It is a matter of necessity, my Master," Vader said quietly. "I...have grave news."
"Ah," the Emperor replied, pleased, "no doubt you wish to report Tarkin's success, and the rebel moon has been annihilated."
But Vader shook his massive helmeted head. "No. I...regret to inform you that the Rebels have...destroyed the Death Star."
"WHAT?!" the Emperor shrieked in shock and anger. "How?! It should have been invulnerable! A million Imperial personnel, thousands of TIE Fighters, at least three Star Destroyers - AND IT HAS BEEN DESTROYED?!"
"I fear so, Master. I do not know how."
"Do you have any conception as to its cost?! TWENTY YEARS it took to build!"
(Author's Note: Yes, this is a tribute to that terrific Robot Chicken sketch in which the Emperor receives a collect call from Vader about the Death Star, and his reaction to the news of its destruction. Dedicated Star Wars fans like me do love a good parody!)
With an effort the Emperor regained control. "It seems our calculated risk of allowing the Rebels access to its schematics has gone awry, Lord Vader."
A risk you agreed with, Vader couldn't help thinking - hypocritically, it must be said, since the plan was his. Out loud he answered, "We must have missed some vulnerability."
"So it would seem. If we are to learn anything from this catastrophe," he spat, "we must discover how they accomplished it. I am sending you a copy from my archives, Lord Vader. Where are you now? Ah - Eadu. Have its staff go over the plans. Clearly there is a weakness. Find it!"
"As you wish."
The doors to the control room opened, and Vader swept through them. Nearby was the Officers' Lounge, now filled with Imperial personnel. "Commander Voss," Vader addressed him.
Voss stood and straightened his uniform almost by reflex. "Yes, my Lord?"
"I have been sent a copy of the schematics of the Death Star. You and whatever staff you require will review them. Look for any hidden weakness. You may begin with the D-Quadrant; that is where the Rebels concentrated their attack."
"My Lord," Voss began carefully, "I have heard the Death Star is - was - 160 kilometres in diameter, with something like a million personnel staffing it. The magnitude of the task is -"
"- not your concern, or mine," Vader cut him off. "It is the will of the Emperor. See to it. All your other duties are in abeyance; this takes absolute priority. Your Exec will see to the running of the outpost. I will wait in my fighter." With that, he left.
Voss sighed. "Major Rogaio, you doing anything?"
"No, sir, not right now," she frowned.
He sighed again. "You are now."
Commander Voss' quarters
"He must be insane," Rogaio sighed, "the sheer magnitude of the task...how the kriff are we meant to find a weakness in all of this?" she indicated the schematics displayed on his terminal.
But Voss was pragmatic. "A huge task, yes, and I recognise that your concern is legitimate, although I might point out that the Rebels found such a weakness. However...do you want to protest to Darth Vader?"
Rogaio gulped. "Uh, no, sir. Um, the D-Quadrant, he said?"
They scanned it. But there was nothing of any significance there. Nevertheless, they looked. Then a particular feature caught her eye. "The main thermal exhaust port," she noted. "It's at the end of a trench. Standard Imperial construction. Except...hmm, there seems to be an auxiliary port, too, but it's ray-shielded. Besides," she went on scornfully, "it's only two metres wide."
"Mmm," he noted thoughtfully. "The design notes and memos are included in the schematic, too. Let's see if there's any mention...ah, here," he nodded. "A series of memos exchanged between Engineering Operations Manager Shaith Vodran and the Chief Designer, Galen Erso." He smiled. "Typical bureaucracy - they were arguing about an SSCR, and Erso proposed three separate solutions."
"Which one did Vodran pick?" she asked.
Voss snorted. "Forgive my cynicism, but he picked the cheapest. In my experience, Rogaio, even in the Empire, the answer to 'why?' is nearly always 'money'. Yes, Vodran was concerned about costing and timetable - there seems to have been pressure from Director Krennic."
Rogaio skimmed through the memos...and had a feeling.
Something about the tone of Erso's queries and replies. Safety concerns had been overridden - the excess heat and radiation issues weren't affecting the officers or the command sectors, and so Vodran had dismissed the SSCR. But it almost seemed…
"...as if Erso wanted them to install that port," she mused.
"Sorry?"
"Let's take a look at it," she directed. But until she zoomed in, the port and its accompanying exhaust shaft didn't even show on the schematics, it was too small.
Which, she realised, with a start, was the idea.
"Sir - where does that shaft lead?" she rapped.
He stared at her. This wasn't like her at all. "Rogaio, what are you getting at?"
"I'm not sure," she frowned, "but the exhaust port is a gap in the primary hull. A small gap, yes, and well-protected by turbolasers and its ray shielding, but…"
Then, as she traced the path of the shaft down, down, down into the battle station's interior, she gasped in shock.
"Commander...that shaft leads directly to the reactor system. 160 kilometres straight down."
"Yes, it does, but - hold on...the hypermatter reactor used to energise the kyber crystals and so fuel the superlaser is inherently unstable."
"It'd need to be, to produce so much power," she nodded.
"But...if you were to lob, say, two proton torpedoes down that shaft…"
She nodded rapidly. "The Incom T-65 X-Wing and the Koensayr BTL Y-Wing fighters, both standard Rebel fare, carry proton torpedoes as standard armament. I remember the attack on this base years ago when I was just a cadet, they did a lot of damage. A proton torpedo is small, but it packs a lot of punch. Two of them in the reactor system would mess it up - badly. Enough to destroy it."
"And that much unleashed hypermatter -"
"- would destroy the station," they finished together. Voss nodded. "At least now we know how the Rebels did it."
"Do we?" Rogaio doubted. "I mean, look at it, sir! It's just two metres wide! And surely Lord Vader would've been on the case - he must have been, that's how his X-1 was damaged. To travel at near the maximum speed of an X-Wing, firing torpedoes at a two-metre shaft, and firing at right angles to the shaft, at that...it's impossible, surely!"
Voss agreed at first - until he remembered something. "Wait...I once heard about Lord Vader flying combat practice at the Imperial City Naval Base. Vindoo Barvel was there - he'd been a top pilot in the Clone Wars, went up against Vader. He was soundly beaten."
"So? Vader's a great pilot."
"But he did it on manual, Rogaio."
"On -? No, surely not," she gasped.
Voss nodded gravely. "He did. So that shot we're talking about? Lord Vader could have done it. Him...or a Jedi."
"But - there are no more Jedi," Rogaio protested.
"I heard a few survived Order 66," he shook his head. "Maybe one of them signed up with the Rebels."
To his shock, Vader looked over his shoulder. "You've found something?"
"Y - yes, My Lord," Voss flustered, "but how did you know -?"
"An auxiliary exhaust port, my Lord," Rogaio interjected. "We think that's how they did it. It was in the D-Quadrant, where you told us to look."
"Show me," Vader ordered, and Rogaio hurriedly complied.
"As you can see, my Lord, the shaft is so narrow it's insignificant. It's no wonder the Imperial planners missed it. The shaft leads directly to the reactor system. But...at near-maximum speed, at right angles, with such a small target...only two categories of pilots could make that shot, my Lord. You...or a Jedi."
Vader reacted, but somehow she could've sworn he looked thoughtful. "During the Rebel attack run, I did sense that the Force was strong with one of them. Not a Jedi, I would have sensed that instantly, but...perhaps a Jedi in training. Or a Force sensitive who recently discovered his power."
"That's possible, my Lord. We've heard a few Jedi survived the purge - maybe one had a kid, and he inherited the Force."
"Through the Force, all things are possible," Vader agreed. "To whom have you or Commander Voss spoken about this?"
"To no-one, Lord Vader," Voss returned with certainty. "You desired privacy, and as an outpost commander I understand the need for secrecy."
Then Rogaio had a frightened thought. Since they hadn't told anyone...they had no cover. So if Vader wanted this kept a secret...his best option would be to kill them both.
She fell to her knees and begged, "My Lord, please don't kill us!"
For his part, Vader was for once amused. "For showing loyalty to the Empire? If I did that, I would be the Emperor's only servant, and the Rebels might win. Good work, both of you. Effective immediately, you are both to be promoted." The breath mask dipped as he bent down, looked a still-kneeling Rogaio in the eye and added dangerously, "Provided none of this goes any further."
"A - as you command, my Lord," she quavered, and thought, Kriff, I've wet myself again!
Quartermaster's Office
"Well," Quartermaster Elden Tomask inquired as the two officers entered, "what brings you two here?"
"We require new uniforms with rank insignia increased by one level," Voss answered.
Tomask raised an eyebrow. "Imperial officers can't just walk in and receive promotions."
"We're not, " Voss told him. "We have both been promoted."
"My records say neither of you is due for a promotion for at least a year," Tomask doubted.
Rogaio preened. "We've just completed a classified assignment for, uh, higher authority," she informed the Quartermaster importantly. "We were promoted as a result."
"What assignment?"
Voss and Rogaio looked at each other, thinking, Yes, bureaucracy is alive and well in the Empire, and Rogaio sighed, "What part of 'classified' wasn't clear?"
Officiously Tomask began, "Be that as it may, I must have official documentation -"
Voss interrupted, "Would you like to take it up with Lord Vader? It was he who required our service."
"It'll be just a short chat," Rogaio said lightly, then her voice dropped as she finished darkly, "for you."
"But of course you're just doing your job," Voss nodded pleasantly, "so here's an excerpt from the security recording - that's all we're allowed to show you before we erase it on Lord Vader's orders."
On the recording Vader said again, "Effective immediately, you are both to be promoted."
"There, you see?" Rogaio said brightly. "ISB coding and everything, so you know it's genuine."
There was no more argument from Tomask.
Officers' Lounge
"Not too shabby, eh?" Voss stretched out on a couch. "And here I was expecting the usual tedium. Instead we get promoted."
"Truth to tell, sir, that's all I expected, too," Rogaio admitted. "Seems Lord Vader doesn't just Force choke officers - he promotes 'em as well." A thought struck her. "And...don't field promotions come with a bit of shore leave?"
Voss perked up. "They do indeed. Fancy the Podraces in Mos Espa on Tatooine? Or a bit of gambling at Canto Bight?"
"Or a dive on Imperial Centre?" she grinned. "Our creds will go further than on Cantonica. Some bars don't even charge Imperial officers if they can verify their ISB security tags."
"Hangar Bay, prepare a shuttle," a similarly grinning Voss ordered.
Control Room
Shortly after
"My Master, I have news," Vader told the Emperor. "It seems Galen Erso was a traitor after all. He engineered a weakness in the battle station for the Rebels to find. That is why they fought so hard at Scarif, and why Princess Leia tried so hard to deliver the plans to Obi-Wan Kenobi."
"Ah, I see," the Emperor nodded. "Erso was more devious than Krennic thought. A clever plan," he applauded, "but negated now that you have discovered it. Exactly what was the weakness?" Vader explained. "Yes. The next Death Star will have no such weakness, Lord Vader. A different solution to the radiation problem will be incorporated. We shall learn from our mistake. But...I am curious, Lord Vader. How could even a skilled pilot - I know the Rebels have some - make that shot? It seems extraordinarily difficult, particularly at high speed and under fire."
"My Master, I believe the pilot, whoever he is, used the Force."
"No Jedi has joined the Rebellion to my knowledge!" the Emperor snapped.
"Nevertheless, I felt the Force was strong with one. Perhaps it was he who fired the fatal shot."
"If the Rebels have accepted a Jedi into their ranks," the Emperor mused, "even a Jedi in training...they have become more dangerous than either of us previously thought. We must take care, Lord Vader."
"Yes, my Master. I have considered hiring bounty hunters to seek him out. Perhaps Boba Fett - he has experience with Jedi."
"As did his father - or rather, his donor - Jango," the Emperor agreed. "See to it, Lord Vader."
Vader warned, "He will demand a substantial reward, Master."
But the Emperor shrugged. "To do what the Inquisitors apparently failed to do? Of course. It will be worth it, Lord Vader. Where is Fett now?"
"I believe he is on Ord Mantell," Vader replied.
Which is where Han Solo and the Rebels encountered him, but that's another story…
THE END