Chapter 15 - The Emperor's Hand
The Death Star project, an ambition to create a planet killing battle station, was unparalleled in scope and scale. Such an undertaking, unthinkable to most, needed protections and assurances. At the present, it meant a costly, multi-layer shielding system. Powered by the same kyber crystals fueling the devastating beam weapon, the outer barrier could prevent any high energy weapons from getting through, although as Black Squadron proved, it couldn't stop physical objects. An unfortunate flaw, but unavoidable while workers, supplies, and materials moved to and fro between the station and its surrounding docks. It only came down for the brief window when the beam fired. Not enough time to mount a decisive attack.
The harder shield, which could repel almost anything, encircled the vulnerable core.
It was Vader's intention to breach the incomplete Death Star, disable the shields and beam, allowing Tarkin and First Fleet the chance to destroy the entire structure. To that end, he and the rest of Black Squadron were now inside, making their way ever deeper, cutting down any resistance they met along the way.
Kshhhhhh
"Weak," Vader said, catching the electro-staff with one hand while he drove the tip of his lightsaber straight through the enemy's heart. He watched the figure fall to the floor and deactivated the red blade. Placing his lightsaber back on his hip, he glanced and saw his subordinates finishing their battle as well. Lifting his hand and extending two fingers, a pair of recently slain bodies lifted off the metal floor and hovered in front of him.
"Lord Vader?" Captain Mithel questioned.
Kshhhhhh
"Observe," the Sith said and pointed to the heads. "No body hair, not even eyelashes." Sure enough, the two figures were perfectly identical and neither one had even a speck of hair on them. Every single one of the clones they'd faced thus far wore nondescript gray jumpsuits and wielded an electro-staff and blaster pistol. "They are incomplete. Unfinished," Vader continued. "Flawed." The bodies fell to the floor.
"Lord Vader," Ceezee said as it approached from where it put its vibro-blade to use against another clone, "my scans indicate radio chatter and energy signatures ahead. Likelihood of hostile presence statistically significant."
Vader said nothing, merely stalked off towards the next battle. Whatever they threw at him, he would carve through it all the same.
###
"I want those sensors tuned to the energy spike we saw," Tarkin said. "We won't give it another free shot."
Aboard the Imperious the Grand Moff busied himself trying to control the battle and eliminate the enemy fighters, buying time for Vader's team to take down the shields. But there were plenty of enemies to deal with.
Although Tarkin's forces held the advantage, the enemy lacking anything as powerful as a destroyer-class ship, this was only a stalling tactic. Given time, the Death Star would fire again. And when it did, they could only hope to dodge. No shield in First Fleet was up for the task of deflecting that.
Worse, on the other side of the battle station's shield, Vader was cut off from friendly contact. He could neither hear or be heard.
"Direct all fighters to manage munitions and plan their repairs and rearms accordingly," he ordered. "Don't let them overwhelm us." Grinding his teeth in frustration, the Grand Moff eyed the tactical display. The only thing he could do for now was make sure the fleet held out until they launched the main attack once Vader dealt with the core's shield.
###
Upon reaching the location Ceezee warned about, they found what appeared to be a last stand for the forces on this level. A single long corridor led to the lift they needed to take if they wanted to reach their ultimate goal: the shield and weapon controls.
Most of Black Squadron carried DC-15 carbines, and peppered the enemy position, to no effect. The blaster bolts bounced off a man-portable shield generator that allowed fire out, but not in. Captain Mithel took a few shots from the hip with his preferred side arm, an RSKF-44 heavy blaster pistol. The former mercenary, Rosh, tried his hand with the K-16 Bryar he'd relied on during his independent years.
Nothing doing, they wouldn't be taking down a dedicated shield with small arms.
"Allow me, Lord Vader," Ceezee said and holstered its DC-17 heavy blaster, trading for the Mandalorian hand cannon. Quickly stepping out of cover into the hall, the droid's head spun, sensors calibrating as it raised the pistol. With the squeeze of the trigger, Ceezee sent a durasteel slug barreling down the corridor and right through the barrier. It might be able to block laser bolts. It could even slow down a lightsaber. What it couldn't do is stop a solid mass of metal from sailing through it unimpeded to puncture the generator's vulnerable circuitry.
The generator sparked and sputtered, and as it did, the energy shield it was projecting begun to flicker. Taking advantage, Vader walked towards the enemy. Unhurried, the Sith was a glacier. Slow, sluggish even, but inevitable. For all the Sith enjoyed battle, it did nothing to quell his wrath against those fool enough to stand against him.
Covered from behind by Black Squadron's relentless barrage, Vader's lightsaber burned red, turning every single, desperate bolt aside in his unstoppable march. Hiding behind what little cover remained, the clones attempted to return fire, but to no avail. Nothing would stop what was coming. Leaving a molten trail through the wall, Vader's saber cut metal and flesh alike, and as he stood before the last survivor, he deactivated his weapon.
Kshhhhhh
"Tell me what you know," he demanded and reached out, lifting the clone against the wall. The Force empowered his voice, compelling obedience.
"I serve only the Emperor!" the clone protested against the hand clamping down on him. Terror almost turned the denial into a scream.
"I am the Emperor."
"NO! The true Emperor!"
Kshhhhhh
"One way or another, you will give in."
###
Black Squadron said nothing on the way up the lift.
They'd watched Vader and his interrogations, something they hoped never to witness again. Between the physical violence, breaking the clone's mind through the Force, and what one might politely call the unorthodox use of a lightsaber, Vader acquired what he was after.
Ceezee, meanwhile, scanned, gathered, and collated any and all available data on 'The Hand of the Emperor' that the clone spoke about.
"I knew Sidious trained others. The Inquisitorius merely being one such project. To say nothing of Maul and Tyranus," Vader said aloud. He was fully aware Palpatine kept secrets. Such was the way of the Sith.
"Do you think he was going to betray you, Lord Vader?" Ada asked.
The other members of Black Squadron stiffened slightly. However, Vader made no move to reprimand the youngest pilot. Instead, he replied, "Sheev Palpatine did not plan to betray, but he left the option open at all times, I suspect. Liabilities cut off, advantages nurtured." It went some way to explaining many of his actions. He seemed to acquire and cast off apprentices with alarming speed. It may not have been a calculated move at the time, but the Sith Lord privately considered his victory over Darth Sidious to be conducive to his own survival. The suit he now wore was proof enough. Even with his current modifications, it hampered him in several ways. No doubt a conscious decision by the former Emperor.
Kshhhhhh
"It is of no concern. Clones or not, we will secure our victory, and this Sheyvan, the Emperor's Hand, will fall."
Silence reasserted itself.
If the data they already acquired remained correct, they would be on their way to the level housing the shield generators and beam controls.
Vader's helmet tilted upwards as he regarded something beyond sight. "Prepare yourselves," he said a breath before the entire lift shuddered to a grinding halt. Excepting the Sith Lord and Ceezee, who remained firm, the others bounced into each other trying to stay upright and, far more importantly as far as they were concerned, avoid falling into the Emperor.
"Futile," Vader said and activated his lightsaber. The others scrambled to double check their environmentally sealed flight suits as he plunged the tip of the blade into the wall and carefully cut away a huge circle of material, large enough for the Dark Lord to walk through without crouching.
Ceezee pushed the metal, molten hot along the edges, away. It began to plummet, but as it left the range of the artificial gravity, the debris drifted sideways. In time, it would reach the outer atmosphere of Geonosis and burn away as it fell towards the surface. The droid climbed out and crawled like an insect along the outer surface of the lift shaft.
Vader did much the same, Activating the magnetic system in his durasteel boots and stomped forward, as unyielding as before. His cape drifted weightlessly behind him. "Come," he ordered and Black Squadron clambered out one by one. Looking up, they could see space out past the construction and in the distance, the bright lasers of First Fleet still in combat against the numerous fighters the Death Star threw against them.
"Lord Vader, an estimated ten minutes is recommended as the maximum to avoid running dangerously low on reserve air."
Almost on cue, everyone noticed movement. A mounted heavy blaster, placed by a trio in their own space gear, was waiting for them at the far end of the shaft.
It made no difference to Vader, he plodded on with the same rhythmic thump as his boots hit the metal. Laser fire rained down on them, but not a single bolt made it past Vader as he deflected and bounced them back. "Return fire," he growled and his pilots drew weapons, forcing the clones to keep their heads down under a barrage.
All through it, they could hear the thud of boots on metal as the Sith moved closer and closer to the enemy. Never slowing, never deviating, his lightsaber flashed back and forth.
"Seven Minutes," Ceezee announced.
Vader kept on, getting ever closer as he sent another shot right back into the clone who fired it, but more always took their place.
Black Squadron followed behind, firing on the enemy position.
"Five minutes."
Although they didn't know about Darth Vader's armor, Mithel and the rest knew full well the limited air supply their flight suits possessed. And now they were half empty. Rosh ducked low as one of the clones tried to target him and sent a blast from his pistol down range. The hit sent the unfortunate enemy stumbling backwards and as he fell his mag-boots lost connection with the metal.
Flailing helplessly, the figure drifted away, destined for the cold darkness of space until Neel mercifully delivered a precise head shot.
"Three minutes."
###
"How many ships does this thing have to throw at us!?" Gaunt complained as he tried to direct several damaged Acclamator-class ships into a more advantageous position. No matter how many fighters they eliminated, more spilled out of the Death Star's handful of finished hangars and the many docks surrounding the incomplete station
More than that, cruisers and battleships were steadily gathering from the bases around Geonosis and further out in the system. If Vader didn't power down the shields soon, First Fleet would be faced with the choice of retreat or annihilation. "Are those repairs done, Dominant!?"
"Not yet, Major," came the reply.
"Tell the crews I want maintenance done, double time! We have more fighters that are barely holding together!"
"Control yourself, Gaunt," Tarkin said. "We must present ourselves as solid, immovable, to our soldiers. Do you think Lord Vader is panicked? Keep a firm hand."
###
"One minute."
Kshhhhhh
"Enough."
Whether or not Vader's mood could ever be described as 'good' was a matter of some debate amongst those who interacted with the Sith Lord. At the moment, however, no one in Black Squadron was under any misapprehensions about how he felt. Even their limited connection to the Force let them feel it. As if to dispel doubts on the matter, Vader extended one hand, fist closed. A clone flew into the air from behind cover and as the Emperor growled, "Begone," his fingers flew open and the unfortunate enemy screamed in agony as his body stretched apart, pulled in different directions.
The adrenal rush of combat was all that kept several members of the squadron from vomiting on the spot as the clone exploded outward in a bloody firework of limbs and viscera.
Vader's hand dropped to his belt and he hit a quick code into the keypad on his hip. Somewhere within the limbs of the suit, micro motors whirred to life and Vader launched himself forward. Sprinting, his feet slammed into the metal.
A Force push hit the barricade. The red saber flashed. One dead. A rising cut, another fell. Vader grabbed the third, snapping the throat and beheaded number four.
Every clone identical, even their presence in the Force.
A slash. Five and six die.
More and more come. Duplicates. So similar as to be insults towards the Sith Lord's victory in battle. Mocking.
Enviro-suits ripped open. Choking death. Burning rage. Unquenchable fury.
And as his anger mounted, he delved deeper into the Dark Side, his attacks becoming more viscous and bestial.
Seconds ticked by. Captain Mithel and his team could do nothing but watch the carnage, slack jawed.
"Lord Vader appears nearly finished," Ceezee said. "I suggest moving forward while your suit's life support systems still function."
Vader cut down another two clones and ducked inside an open hatch where they heard screams of terror and panicked blaster fire.
Scrambling, they charged forward to the safety of the artificial atmosphere. Once inside, hatch sealed behind them, they witnessed Vader choking the life out of the last enemy they could see. Not with the Force, this one he throttled with his own hand. The clones limbs were already gone, taken by that lightsaber.
Kshhhhhh
"No mind tricks, clone. You will tell me where the shield and beam controls are, or you will beg for death long before it comes."
"Ggghhhkkk str-straight… straight ahead!"
A sick, wet crunch and Vader tossed him aside.
"Come."
###
When they reached the controls, they found three men waiting for them. Three almost identical men, all armed with lightsabers.
Specifically, two of them were the clones they'd encountered so many times before, but the one in the middle was different. He had a full head of hair, eyebrows, and a hint of stubble.
"So," the middle said, "you must be Vader. Do you know who I am?" He wore a cocky grin.
Kshhhhhh
"Another corpse."
The smile vanished. "Wrong, impostor. I am the true heir of Sidious! Wherever the master is, I will find him and take my rightful place at his side!"
"What are you?"
The smile returned and Sheyvan said, "The source material for this Sith cloning project and guardian of the Death Star. I am Sheyvan, Hand of the Emperor. Where Lord Sidious points, I kill."
"Nothing more than an assassin then. You do not even rise to the level of Palpatine's Inquisitorius."
Vader saw the flash of doubt in Sheyvan's eye. It seemed no one was privy to the full scope of Darth Sidious' plans.
"Enough of this! Once I've dealt with you, that paltry fleet is next, then Coruscant."
Vader ignited his saber and stepped forward. "The Force is weak in you, if you cannot foresee your own end."
Author notes:
Forum link in my bio.