Chapter 17 - Life and Death
Black Squadron charged across the hangar, scrambling to get in their ships. For the third time since they left the control room, a shudder ran through the station.
"What is that!?" Neel asked as he hauled himself into his Interceptor.
"Lord Vader's handy work!" Mithel screamed as he flipped a few switches and powered his own ship up.
"Proceed to the battle," Ceezee said from the Emperor's fighter. "I will await further orders."
With a nod, Mithel's ship lifted off the ground and he gave out orders. "On me, Black Squadron. Black Two, take Black Six, Eight, and Nine for resupply. The rest of you, follow me into the fight and give 'em hell!"
###
Vader's remaining hand flew over the console keys, poking and probing as he tried to navigate the damaged system and get the main beam weapon powered down. As a server on the far side of the room sputtered in a static death rattle, the Sith glanced up, thinking.
This might be the main control center for the high powered shields and weapon, but if it fell to destruction that would hardly mean the end of the station as a whole. Narrowing his eyes, Vader typed out a few more commands. By great, good luck, it was still an Imperial system, and the commands and structure where, at least, familiar enough. Nonetheless, digging through it while the room smoked and electrical conduits sputtered proved an annoyance.
Despite Vader's best efforts, the console died before he could finish his goal.
-sssssst
"Directly then."
The Sith turned to seek out his next goal when something in his right leg sputtered and the limb jerked to a halt. Even without the helmet readout telling him, Vader's mechanical and engineering talents were enough. He knew machines, none more so than his own body's prosthetics. He'd pushed the experimental motors too hard, too fast.
Before he could think, a pulse within the Force caught his attention. Extending his remaining hand, a telekinetic push cleared the oily, black smoke for a few moments and Vader looked towards Sheyvan's corpse.
Where it should have been, only the severed left arm and leg remained, along with a smear of blood leading away.
-sssssst
"Impressive, Palpatine taught him well."
All the same, the Hand's life was bleeding away. And the Sith Lord lacked the time to hunt down a man minutes from death. The weapon was still active and he didn't know how long it would take to work up another charge and fire, but he'd have to deal with it directly.
"Droid." Vader demanded.
His comms still worked, and Ceezee answered. "Yes, Lord Vader?"
"My duel damaged the controls. Direct me to the primary power junction, then prepare for extraction."
"Sending data, Lord Vader."
On his remaining lens, a map came into focus and revealed a set of redundant systems directly over the core, and far below Vader's feet. The only problem? Those systems required a way to drain the energy. With an entire team of engineers and system maintenance, it would be short work to safely drain power. However, Vader was alone, and it would take days, if not weeks, to power down the massive station.
Safely, at least.
One thing on the station could draw that much power, draining so much reserve energy, so quickly, that both shields would fail.
The planet-killing beam.
-sssssst
Seeing no other choice, Vader moved towards the edge of the platform, right leg dragging. He'd need to drop down, level by level, until he hit the final platform above the core of the station and interface with it directly.
It was, however, a very long drop.
Vader recalled the words of the Jedi Grand Master. 'Fear leads to the Dark Side.' It was true, but incomplete. Fear, anger, hatred, suffering. All steps along the journey, but not the end. Not for Darth Vader.
"Peace is a lie. The Force shall free me," Vader said and somewhere far off he sensed a presence watching him approvingly. Ignoring it, he stepped off the edge.
###
"Grand Moff!" Major Gaunt shouted. "We're picking up that same power spike! The weapon is charging up again!"
"Then let us hope Lord Vader is able to deal with it. Send emergency vectors to all points and prepare for whatever evasive actions we can manage!"
The bridge of Imperious burst into activity as every officer sent out data to their two remaining destroyers and all the Assault ships and fighters at their disposal. If they wanted to survive this, they needed to hold on a bit longer.
Then, a ray of hope.
"This is Black Two, reporting in. Black Squadron awaiting orders, Grand Moff."
"Where is the Emperor!?" Tarkin almost screamed at Mithel.
"Dealing with the Death Star. He ordered us back into the fray."
Glancing at the tactical readout, Tarkin saw Black Squadron's Interceptor badges pop up on the edge of the battlefield. At the same time, enemy fighters began vanishing as the elites of Vader's Force-sensitive wing cut their way towards First Fleet. A welcome reprieve, but there was still the energy spike.
###
Standing before the building sized conduits powering the station wide shields, Vader prepared himself. Once this was down, it would still take a single shot of the beam to fully drain the capacitors and render the core vulnerable.
His current problem? Speed and his lack thereof, thanks to a near useless leg. But there was nothing for it. Vader reached out with the Force, and the echoing creek of metal filled the chamber. The noise bounced off the walls, traveling up and down the shaft running kilometers through much of the central structure. Somewhere or other, a mountain of kyber crystals powered this thing.
And Vader was about to kill them. A crystalline structure that was, in some way, alive, acted as the beating heart of this station's offensive and defensive might. Once they were gone, only the power remaining in the system would keep the shields up. Given enough time, concentrated fire might bring them down. Time they lacked. Eventually the beam would fire. And ships from the rest of the system would keep coming. First Fleet couldn't weather that storm forever. Even with only a single shot, if Tarkin and the Imperious fell, that would spell the doom of Imperial military might. If Vader made it back, the loss would cost him in the political arena.
Any sign of weakness and the Empire would be like a wounded animal. The scent of blood calling any and all would be scavengers.
Darth Vader would survive. Rise above the chaos. Conquer, secure his place as Emperor once again. But he had better things to do with his time than wrangle every worthless politician, upstart criminal enterprise, and Jedi sympathizer a loss here would send his way.
There was nothing for it.
Following the pulse, like a heartbeat through the conduits, Vader stretched out his senses. A font of life, in agony as the battle station ripped power straight from them. Vader could only imagine how long it took Sidious to gather so much kyber. Trapped in his suit as he was, Vader might be one of the few who could truly empathize with the crystals that powered lightsabers for eons. The same pain he felt every moment, they echoed as the Death Star ripped energy from them every moment to power its offensive and defensive capabilities.
Vader was many things. An engineer and mechanic, among others. And as such, he valued practicality and efficiency. A weapon that would wipe out entire planets and all of their future potential? It was an abomination. Far simpler for the Sith Emperor to personally visit death upon whichever planetary governor was at the root of problems than destroy valuable resources and the individuals who could procure, manage, and supply them. More than that, kyber crystals, used like this, were little more than slaves.
At last, he found what he was looking for. In a way, it was not so different from choking a life-form with the Force. He only needed to find the throat.
-sssssst
"I have you now."
Lifting his right hand into the air, Vader grasped for an invisible neck. The neck of innumerable crystals deep within the core itself. They were there, living in their own way. Slaves to this technological terror Palpatine envisioned. Slaves.
"Peace is a lie, there is only passion," he whispered.
Slaves.
"Through passion I gain strength, through strength, power."
Vader's grip tightened and the life he sensed began to ebb away.
"Through power, I gain victory."
Slaves.
"Through victory, your chains are broken."
Somewhere distant, a great presence vanished, and Vader felt it almost sigh in relief.
"The Force shall free you."
Strength left Vader's body and he collapsed.
###
The wasteland stretched out endlessly, shrouded in dark and light mists. Soil, parched and dry, cracked underfoot. Each step kicked up puffs of dust and left a print behind, undisturbed by any winds. All stillness and silence, Vader looked around.
He recognized the landscape, as empty and lifeless as the last time he walked its unchanging expanse.
"I sense you," he said, though there was no one anywhere nearby to respond.
"Well done, boy. Even drained, as you are, your connection to the Force remains unshaken."
"Who are you?" Vader demanded. He didn't turn or try to find the source of the voice. He knew full well it would be futile to try. So he looked out into the distance. In theory one direction was the same as any other, and yet…
"I have no name you would know. Of more import, why do you look to the horizon? Why that direction?"
"It is the correct direction," Vader responded. He wasn't sure why, but he knew, as sure of this as anything, that in the distance, there was something out beyond sight and sense. "I feel nothing, and that is, itself, something."
"Well said. Whatever it is, it comes as sure as the dawn."
Vader couldn't place the feeling, but it reminded him of his boyhood on Tatooine and the static in the air before a sandstorm.
"I am not dead." Vader said, a statement rather than a question.
"Indeed. Your work isn't done."
The Sith Lord's eyes snapped open and he was lying on the steel floor once again. He looked up, once more taking in the dual view of his helmet and the unmasked world. He could tell the kyber crystal formation was now dead, but its energy remained, like a specter, within the power cells of the Death Star. He felt it, slithering through the station, a serpent on the hunt. It was leaving the shields and heading towards the main weapon dish and its beam emitters.
Someone was activating the weapon.
He rolled over and rose to one knee. "I require pick up," he said through his comm.
"Understood, Lord Vader,"Ceezee answered.
"Lock onto my position. I will find a way out." As he cut contact, the hilt of his lightsaber flew from his belt and into the waiting grasp of his remaining hand. Bringing up the station map on his remaining lens, Vader limped off, making a direct line towards the wall closest to the vacuum of cold space.
Red beam bursting out as he activated the weapon, Vader carved and ripped the metal walls apart, passing through dozens of meters of plating, maintenance shafts and tunnels, conduit pathways and electrical systems. None of them slowed his progress.
He eventually arrived to an empty hall with a sealed doorway marked with cautions and several magnetic seals and electronic security. Ceezee would have no problem hacking the systems and opening it up. Vader chose a more direct method.
Without relinquishing his grasp on the saber, he extended two fingers and the Force responded to his call. The doors dented inwards at the first push. The second cracked them open and air rushed past, the ragged strips of Vader's cape whipping in the wind as atmosphere left the corridor, whistling out through the opening. The final Force shove launched both sections of the sliding door out of the way and Vader watched them sail across the unfinished room and out into space. As the oxygen bled away, Vader walked into the room and looked at the planet below.
A place of many memories for the Sith, who paused to glance at his right hand.
Vader's interceptor drifted into view, adjusting its position with micro thrusters as Ceezee positioned it near the edge of the room.
Crouching, Vader pushed off with his good leg and floated directly into the waiting open hatch of his cockpit. Using the Force to surround his broken helmet with air, he kept himself protected from the vacuum of space for the few moments it would take to climb aboard.
"Do you require medical assistance or repairs, Lord Vader?" Ceezee asked from its place in the former astromech socket. From the little storage compartment, the droid folded up and could interface with and control the star fighter to a limited degree.
-sssssst
Glancing at the missing left forearm and hand, Vader declined. "It is nothing. We will deal with the weapon."
Taking the controls with his right hand, Vader piloted the Interceptor around and through the incomplete station, guiding it carefully into the skeletal sections to avoid exposing himself to any defensive weapon emplacements.
"Dish emitters registering a growing charge, Lord Vader," Ceezee warned. Vader ignored the comment. He could feel it well enough, but as he brought the Actis-class ship around the edge of the dish, the weapons powered on. A few shots to the right locations and the planet killing weapon would do more harm to itself than any ship of First Fleet. With the emitters damaged, the beams wouldn't focus, instead tearing apart the dish structure.
Vader felt the presence in the Force a moment too late.
The explosion rocked his ship, sending it spiraling out, away from the dish and out past the outer shield. As he struggled to regain control of his ship with one hand, a visual came up on his monitor.
Sheyvan's face, pale and wan from blood loss, grinned all the same.
"Vader," he wheezed. The Hand was in a medical bed, and Vader saw the light cruiser that shot him turning tail to run from the battle. "Vader," Sheyvan said again. "The station is lost, but so is your armada." Saying this, the transmission cut and the cruiser burned away, disappearing as it made the jump to hyper space.
Cursing himself for not ensuring the Hand was dead when he had the chance, Vader swung his ship back around to the Death Star. As soon as he piloted it back inside the shield, he could deal with-
-sssssst
"I see."
The beam was charging, three points of green light glowing along the bowl of the dish, preparing to unleash all the fury and energy of the dead kyber crystals upon First Fleet. No time to fly back inside the shield.
Sheyvan's final blow of their duel.