I live, I die, I live again. (I had a cold and was out of it for a few days.) Regular chapters resume on Saturday.
Intermission 4 - Tarkin
"Maybe if I'm fortunate, those terrorists will wipe out the Senate," Tarkin muttered under his breath as yet more squabbling, squealing politicians were led away and back into the shelter of the Imperial Senate's lower levels.
So far, he'd barely found the time to organize an effective multi-layer defense before wave after wave of ineptitude barged in to complain about one thing or another. Wilhuff glanced down at his right hand and made a quick grasping motion. Sadly, he wasn't gifted with the Force abilities Darth Vader used to such wonderful effect. As such, he found himself dealing with problems in more mundane measures.
"Updates?" he asked his comm man.
"According to eyes on, the battle has moved indoors, Grand Moff. Black Squadron is already pushing in and Storm Troopers are securing the grounds as they do. No word from Lord Vader."
"He'll be in touch," Tarkin said with some degree of confidence. "This is nothing new. Has our information network picked up anything on the responsible parties?"
A lieutenant passed Tarkin a data slate and said, "It looks like a smaller operation, sir. Republic radicals. What with Lord Vader waking up, much of the planet is engaging in celebrations. Topping it off, Blas-Tech secured a very lucrative contract, one personally approved by the Emperor. And this is a minor assembly plant. Small arms only. With the place closed due to festivities it made an attractive target, I suppose."
"Well spotted, Lieutenant," Tarkin said with a nod. "No doubt they hoped to gain something from this nonsense, but what could-" His mouth stopped moving as his eyes passed over the available data on the rebels, but something stopped him. Years of military life forged finely honed instincts in Tarkin, and something his conscious mind merely passed over had his subconscious screaming. "Where was it, where was it," he said as he searched.
"There!" His eyes narrowed as he read the description, then widened in horror. "Get me Lord Vader, NOW!"
The comms officer immediately threw himself into the chair and started pulling up the tactical data and getting in touch with ground forces.
"Sir?" the Lieutenant asked.
"This is one of Blas-Tech's small arms plants. They do more than mill out receivers for our DC-15s and keep us supplied with energy packs. This plant handles all manner of small arms, such as explosives and grenades."
Tarkin passed the data slate back to the young officer. His eyes flitted back and forth across the documents until they alighted on what made Tarkin's blood run cold. "Thermal detonators," he said.
"Thermal detonators," Tarkin echoed. "This wasn't an attack on Imperial resources. This was a trap, one intended for Lord Vader. They mean to take him out, even if they need to level a building to do it. Are we through to the ground team?" he continued, turning back to the comms.
"Not yet, Grand Moff. Some sort of static interference is slowing things down."
"More rebel handy work, no doubt."
"Wait. I think I've got something, sir."
Kshhhhhh
"Tarkin."
"Lord Vader!" Tarkin said, relief flooding his voice. "We have information on the plant. It manufactures thermal detonators. A recent upgrade after the recent contract you approved."
Kshhhhhh
"I am aware of the situation."
Tarkin paused. The Emperor's voice sounded distant, somewhat strained. "Lord Vader?"
"Perhaps I should take over," came the Grand Inquisitor's voice. "I'd rather not be vaporized."
###
With Black Squadron securing the grounds and Storm Troopers handling the perimeter, it was left to the Sith and Inquisitors to deal with the last of the rebels. They'd holed themselves up in a single area, blind firing from cover in a doomed attempt to forestall the inevitable.
Kshhhhhh
"Whatever you hoped to accomplish, it is at an end. Surrender and you will at least have your lives."
A woman, long gray hair tied up in a bun and wearing robes rather than the practical insurgent gear favored by the others, stepped out from behind a pallet. "An end, Sith? I suppose."
Vader stared for one long moment, then said, "Jocasta Nu."
The Grand Inquisitor glared and muttered, "The librarian," venom in his tone.
Jocasta Nu, former archivist of the Jedi Temple, far from a warrior or master duelist, she lived the life of an academic and guardian of all the knowledge accumulated by the Jedi Order over the centuries. But now, here she was, leading this little rebellion. Even Darth Vader, largely implacable, couldn't entirely hide the surprise at seeing the old woman with a blaster in her hand.
"Is it so shocking, Vader, that I'd take up arms against you?"
The Sith said nothing.
"At the very least, let me thank you for coming to deal with us personally. I thought we'd need at least a few more attacks to get your attention. Very proactive of you, Sith."
Vader was on guard, prepared for the old woman to draw her saber. What he didn't expect was the device she pulled from under her robes. A remote trigger. She smiled with the serene grace of one who has accepted their fate.
The Grand Inquisitor and Tenth watched Vader drop his lightsaber, the blade deactivating as the hilt fell. Extending both arms forward, the Emperor reached out through the Force and felt an entire crate of thermal detonators begin the ignition sequence. That much power, concentrated in such a small space, it would be a miracle if anything was left of them to bury.
Kshhhhhh
Jocasta Nu's eyes opened and she slowly looked behind her, the smile fading to a look of shocked horror. "How…?"
An explosion, as if frozen in time, refused to engulf them. Instead, it held, the first hints of promised incineration barely breaking through the container. Jocasta and the other rebels turned to stare at Vader, containing the explosion purely through mastery of the Force.
Kshhhhhh
"Take. Them."
Vader's words, strained, came out through a grimace. As he spoke, Tenth watched the halted explosion expand infinitesimally.
###
"He stopped the explosion!?" Tarkin asked, incredulous.
"No, Grand Moff," the Grand Inquisitor answered. "He is stopping the explosion. Currently. As we speak. Black Squadron and the Storm Troopers are leading the insurgents we've captured to transport. We can question them later, but we need to deal with this for the moment. The crate is big enough to hold a couple dozen Detonators. How might we go about stopping that much explosive force?"
Tarkin shook off the shock and his mind raced to consider possibilities. That many devices, all going off at once? Even the heaviest armor plating couldn't shrug it off. Imperial star fighters wouldn't walk away from it unscathed.
"Can we move it?" Tarkin asked. "Clear the surroundings and allow it to detonate in the sky?"
Kshhhhhh
"Do it."
Vader's voice rang in Tarkin's ear and the Moff asked, "Are you sure, Lord Vader?"
"I am sure I cannot hold this explosion forever, Tarkin."
Orders given, Tarkin saw to it a massive tug, one equipped with a tractor beam usually reserved for hauling at the Coruscant shipyards, was commandeered and sent to the Blas-Tech plant.
The news drones, observing and recording from a safe distance, broadcast the visuals. Construction equipment ripped the roof off the building and tossed it aside, then the tug maneuvered into position directly over Vader.
Tarkin watched the screen from inside his command post at the Senate as a partially ruptured steel box, white light pouring out from inside, slowly drifted up into the air, the tug rising above the Coruscant skyline.
"Release," Vader's voice commanded and the tug hit full thrusters, pulling away as fast as it could. Simultaneously, the Sith released his own hold over the Thermal Detonators. A white hot explosion lit up the sky and its thunderous roar echoed across the district.
"How many must he have stopped?" Tarkin wondered aloud.
Kshhhhhh
"Twenty-five, Grand Moff. I assure you, I am very much aware of exactly how many were in that crate."