Chapter 22 - The Long March
"We've lost contact with Alpha!"
"Dammit!" The woman slammed her fists into the console. They'd been so close! Vader was right there! Practically in their grasp! And then it all fell apart. He vanished into the labyrinth of half built additions to this Force-forsaken martial academy.
"Orders, Lady Ors?"
That was what they called her. Lady Ors. A year ago, she'd been a ballet dancer on Alderaan, looking forward to teaching her daughter the art, someday. Then the figure of Darth Vader appeared on holo-vids across the Core as he stormed into the Senate to declare himself Emperor. Hard to believe it would set off a cascade of events, leading to her involvement with a rebellion. But here she was. It started with support for the Senators who opposed the power Palpatine accrued for himself and the tensions only flared ever stronger when the mysterious Darth Vader took control. That was when the Jedi Master Kirak Infil'a made his appearance. He explained he'd voluntarily exiled himself, some sort of Force ritual, but that was over. Now his mission in life would be the eradication of the Sith, with Vader as his first and greatest goal.
The plan made sense. Use the disaffected supporters of Palpatine who lost out when Vader stepped in. And once news of the Emperor's parade through the Core Worlds reached their ears, the plan was put into motion. Getting Ors on Chandrila was no problem. A dancer of her reputation was always welcome. And from there, it was child's play to catch the ear of Jesco Comarc and convince the power hungry Imperial of how greatly improved his fortunes would be with Vader out of the way. His death was, in Lady Ors' estimation, for the best. Vader should be thanked for that, if nothing else. But now? He was wandering freely in the bowels of a construction site.
"Lady Ors?"
Snapping back, she looked over the map. "Send Beta, Gamma, and Delta teams in. I want everyone else on standby in case he slips the noose."
Ors rubbed her temple. Military leadership was hardly her area of expertise, but ever since the rise of the Empire, life threw her one curve ball after another.
"I'll just trust the Force, no matter how mysterious its motions," she muttered.
###
"This is Beta," the leader of the team said. "We found Alpha. No survivors."
He wasn't sure what happened, but he knew a lightsaber was to blame. The bodies of Alpha team were a grisly jigsaw of limbs spread across the unfinished room. The lights weren't operational, so his men relied on helmet and weapon mounted illumination to see.
"Hey, leader. Look at this one," one of his men called. Stepping around the viscera, he approached the body. Unlike the others, wounds instantly cauterized by the Sith's blade, this one was in a pool of blood.
"What in the name of the Force happened to him!?"
"Skewered with bits of metal. No burn marks. The bastard didn't even need his sword!"
Feeling his men's agitation, the leader was about to call them to order when his light flashed past something on the floor. "What is that?" he asked the closest man.
Kneeling, his subordinate took a closer look. "Blood. A boot print. Vader musta walked through it. Heads off that way." The rebel pointed down a dark hall leading deeper into the school.
A light sparked, casting a flash of illumination.
"Well, damn. Send word to the other teams. We'll tail Vader. Maybe they can get ahead of the bastard and we can hit him from all sides.
After relaying the message, Beta set off after his target. The leader, sparing a glance at the bloody corpse, offered a prayer of thanks.
He may have killed you, but your blood will lead us right to him. Rest easy, we'll get him for ya.
Coordinating with the other teams through Lady Ors, they scoured the dark, unfinished section of the academy. The expansions, paid for by Comarc credits, proved a bane to their efforts. Too many places to hide, too many shadows dancing as they swung their weapon lights this way and that. The eerie atmosphere playing at nerves and running the icy finger of paranoia down their backs. Jumping at every creak, Beta team made slow progress.
"Leader?" the youngest member asked.
"What?"
The kid glanced around. "What do we do if we find him? Try to take him in?"
"By the Force, no. Shoot first. I've heard those swords can block blaster fire, but he can't defend against all of us, now can he. At least a few of our shots will hit home. Once he's down, we can check to see if he still breathes. Then the republic can return."
"And what about the Mothma's?"
The youngster referred to Jesco Comarc's men who stormed the Governess' home and effectively placed them under house arrest. The entire family was, for all intents and purposes held hostage while the Imperials were dealt with.
"I don't like it either, but if we want to get rid of the Galactic Empire, it can't be helped. Sometimes, violence is necessary."
Kshhhhhh
"Agreed."
Crackling to life with an ominous hum, the baleful red glare of Vader's lightsaber illuminated his figure to the left of Beta team. He steeped through an unfinished wall into the wide hall. The rebels stared, transfixed as they looked up at Vader. It was one thing to see him from an upper gallery when he was down in the arena. Another entirely to come face to face with the nearly seven foot cyborg in all his terrible power. Vader's mechanical breath and the hum of his saber alone disturbed the silence, until…
"DIE!" the youngest screamed in a mix of fear and anger. He raised his blaster to shoot the towering figure in black, but in a flash of red, the weapon fell in two pieces. Then the blade retracted and darkness fell upon them.
"Lights! Use the lights!" Beta leader ordered. As their weapons swung around, they tried to find Vader, but he'd vanished into the shadows like smoke.
"How the hell does someone that big move without a sound!?" one man yelled in frustration. "C-calm down and listen for breathing!" the leader ordered, a quiver of fear snaking into his voice.
There was a clatter from the back of the room and, as one, all heads and weapons turned, bringing harsh white light on a crumpled figure. The rearguard member of Beta was on the ground, neck twisted and dead eyes staring out at nothing.
"Back to back, keep your cool! Don't let him get in your heads!" As Beta leader said this he glanced at the youngest member. "Kid?" The boy's face was turning blue and his blaster was jerking back and forth like he had a bad twitch.
"H-help," was all he croaked out before his finger curled around the trigger, weapon tracing sporadic fire into the other members. A blast caught the leader in the thigh and he went down. He had enough time to look up and see the kid spray into the others, and knew they were lethal shots. A red beam of light burst from the boy's chest and his eyes widened in shocked terror before the spark of life left them.
As the body fell, only Darth Vader remained, looking down on the leader with that horrible black mask. His free hand reached to his belt and hit a few buttons and suddenly the lights on his chest plate flickered to life. The leader's eyes widened in horror as he realized that Vader turned off his own life support to kill them.
Kshhhhhh
The Sith said nothing. Simply raised his lightsaber and brought it down. Then he returned to the darkness, disappearing just as he emerged moments before. When he was gone, the only noise were the frantic calls on Beta team's comm links.
###
Mithel stared at the bodies in the alley. The rest of Black Squadron was standing guard, at the ready for another strike.
"Third attack since we left Comarc's estate, Captain." Major Gaunt said. "They do seem to be tracking us with alarming speed."
Picking through the dead's pockets, Mithel looked for any hint of information he might be able to find. Unfortunately, as he expected , they carried nothing of use. No comms, no data, not even a hint as to what the rebels ultimately wanted. An end to the Empire, of course, but that was a grand goal, not the sort of operational tactics they could make use of right now.
"Nothing, not that I expected much. They at least have the sense to maintain some strategic discipline."
"Well," Gaunt said, checking the charge on his DC-15A carbine, "It won't be much of a secret which direction we'll be heading. Its either the star port, Brionelle Military academy, or the Mothma Estate. And now that we've bumped into a few groups…"
Nodding Mithel finished the observation. "They know we're rescuing Tanis Mothma."
"Captain," Cive Rashon called. "We've got civvies looking around."
"Great," Mithel said stifling a curse. "Everyone, keep to the shadows." With Gaunt's help he shoved the rebel corpses into a dumpster and then motioned towards a ladder anchored to the side of a building. "We'll take a look top side, maybe see what they have lying in wait."
Currently, Black Squadron and Gaunt's officers were deep in the industrial sector. The wealthier citizens of Hanna City mostly resided on the outskirts, enjoying bucolic views of the farmlands and countryside. However, as they approached the Debate Rotunda, the populated sections came to dominate, and they couldn't engage the enemy so brazenly if they hoped to maintain at least some degree of subtlety.
While the rest of the team remained on the ground, Mithel and Gaunt surveyed the cityscape.
"Not much in the way of concealment. If we want to remain undetected, we'll be taking the long way around," the Captain observed. They were little more than spitting distance from one of the commercial and residential areas. And with Lord Vader's presence, resulting in several military parades, the people were in the mood to be out and about. "Land is at a premium," Gaunt said. "No one is going to waste it on convenient back alleys. And the rooftops are out as well. Its all aesthetics and ornamentation, not like the flat utilitarian designs out here." Pointing across the skyline, Gaunt directed Mithel's eyes to the tall spires and deeply slanted roofing which dominated the city ahead.
"So, the long way it is," Mithel said, resigned.
"You're forgetting our orders, Captain. Vader told us to proceed directly to the Mothma Estate. And the Emperor does not choose his words carelessly."
Behind his dark helmet, Mithel furrowed his brow in thought. He tried, for several seconds, to come up with a way around the obvious.
"Shit."
Major Gaunt was right. Lord Vader didn't care about the logistics of moving Black Squadron through a city. He cared about results, and when it came to Mithel and Black Squadron, he would accept northing less than excellence.
Gaunt watched the Captain struggle for few minutes, but then, the black helmet tilted to one side and stared out across the public boulevards.
"Oh, I'm an idiot!" Mithel grumbled and smacked his forehead. He pulled off his helmet and stared down at the cityscape with naked eyes.
"You have a plan, Captain?" Gaunt asked.
"Everybody loves a parade," Mithel said as a grin made its way across his face.
###
Kshhhhhh
"I know you hear me, woman. Heed my words: this pathetic attempt at assassination will earn you nothing beyond capture, torture, and a slow death."
Vader was surrounded by another group of dead rebels. They fell to him just as the others did, stumbling and afraid in the darkness. Now he held a helmet in his hand, its comm piece activated by the last of the rebels to fall. Terrified, he screamed for backup in the gloom. It was all for naught, but it served the Sith Lord's purposes. Now he possessed a direct line to their command structure.
"You're lucky, Vader," Lady Ors said. "But you need to keep being lucky. If the Force favors us, even once, we win."
Kshhhhhh
"The Force favor's the strong. Surrender. I do not need to destroy you, but I will."
Vader dropped the helmet when he heard the line go silent. He could have reached out, used the power of the Dark Side to strangle the life from her. Distance meant little to Vader. A vid-link, or even over comms, was enough for him to grasp at their throats through the Power of the Force. But he had other intentions. He sensed this woman was not the true source of all this. There was a strategic mind behind it all, and it was one who understood Vader.
"A Jedi," Vader muttered.
Marching through the shadows of Brionelle, Darth Vader couldn't help but feel elation at the thought. He would admit, to himself at least, he hadn't felt truly alive since his battle on the Death Star. Drawing his lightsaber against a fellow Force-user, riding the razor's edge between life and death, it was what he was born to do. He was the Chosen One, he would bring balance to the Force.
The Dark Lord tightened his hands into fists. After so long dealing with the politics of Coruscant, he finally felt back in his element. This was were he belonged. The battlefield. It was his true home. The Clone Wars taught him that. Vader's helmet turned slightly to one side as he felt a new presence.
Kshhhhhh
"Come."
He pulled his lightsaber from its place on his belt and the red blade burst to life. He delved into the Dark Side, and like a drum of war, his heartbeat thundered from his chest. Blaster fire erupted from the end of the corridor. Vader stalked forward. With one hand, he brought his lightsaber up, blocking the lasers, but not bothering to reflect them back. They pinged against the metal walls, ceiling and floor as he moved ever closer to the rebels. By now, his cape sported a dozen holes, burned into it as he strode closer and closer to his enemy.
"Pathetic," he said. He could taste the cowardice. This team barely held itself together. Even now, Vader could reach out with the Force and bring the ceiling down upon them, but that would end it too quickly. What the Sith wanted was a challenge. Something to push him to his limits. A wall to be overcome, like the beam of the Death Star. True, he'd been laid up for weeks after, but his command of the Force, his focus, his strength of will, saw him through.
"Enough," he whispered and extinguished his saber. He held out a hand and caught the blaster bolts in his palm, the red lasers burning his gauntlet, leaving a ragged hole which exposed his mechanical hand. With a moment of focus, he gathered the Force. summoning it in his hands, crouching slightly, he allowed the laser fire to strike his armor. It was nothing. He exploded forward, both arms shot out, driving the Power of the Force ahead of him. The metal walls of the half finished hallway buckled as the Push barreled into the enemy position. They all fell, stumbling and somersaulting backwards into partially constructed walls.
The first rebel to stand had enough time to register the giant figure of Vader before a metal fist slammed into his gut. Organs ruptured, then a hand grabbed his throat. He was dead before he felt pain.
Another man's forearm shatter when a durasteel boot slammed down on it as he reached for his blaster. The red blade of Vader's lightsaber took his head.
While Vader delved deeper and deeper into the Dark Side, reveling in the rush of overwhelming power, Lady Ors tried everything in her power to rally the rebels given to her, but she was no Jedi, nor any sort of seasoned military commander. "Prepare the explosives!" she shouted as the battle moved ever closer to her command post. She and her allies were in the head master's office. The one place in Brionelle which had access to the entire school's systems. And Vader was getting closer.
As time went on, it became clear the Sith was no longer hunting in the shadows. He wasn't even bothering to use doors. Lady Ors watched the signals and it was obvious Vader was tearing walls apart on an unstoppable march directly towards her.
"I don't care what we have! Throw it at him!"
Vader continued on, and it might as well have been unopposed for all the good it did the rebels. Finally, Lady Ors heard the blaster fire directly beneath her feet. She was in the administrative offices, the center of the academy. Standing over the console, she watched life signs wink out on the display.
"Master Infil'a was right," she said. "Send the message. Numbers don't work, ambushes are useless. We'll try explosives. If that fails, only a Jedi can take him down."
When Ors volunteered, more than a few tried to dissuade her, even Master Infil'a. She'd given her answer. She was expendable. No great warrior, politician, or military genius, she wouldn't be of any great cost to this rebellion. No, she was the sort of public figure with easy access to the movers and shakers in the Core. Lady Ors was ideal for this mission. They were throwing everything they had against Vader, trying to find a weakness those who came after would exploit.
"Is the data sent?" she asked. When the affirmative answer came, she gave a small, sad smile.
Lady Ors entered the code and hit the trigger. At last, she looked down to a picture of her daughter, Jan. When the explosion happened, it buried everything and everyone in the building under tons of metal and stone.
###
Darth Vader, using both his own physical strength and the Power of the Force, shoved debris from his shoulders and stood up amidst the rubble. The entire center of Brionelle was in ruins. Looking around, he saw the scattered remains of those who failed to survive the blast. Extending his senses, he felt nothing. No life, no threats.
He stood alone.
Kshhhhhh
When he'd felt the premonition of danger, Vader pulled the Dark Side around him like a cloak against frigid winds. As the building fell, The Force coiled around him. Now he stood atop the destruction, no other soul in sight.
"This is Vader. I will make my way towards the Mothma Estate. Secure it before I arrive."
"Lord Vader!" Major Gaunt said in surprise. "We're glad you're alright. My officers and I are currently with Black Squadron en route to the Primary."
Kshhhhhh
"Do not fail me, Major."