Chapter 23 - Parade
"We don't even have two dozen! How does that equal a parade!?"
Ada wasn't wrong. On every planet, and even Chandrila during the show when they initially arrived, they'd been marching with Stormtroopers, led by Death Vader himself, and flanked on either side with a compliment of local officers-in-training and enforcers. Captain Mithel's plan to spontaneously start a parade and use it as cover to march down the main street, straight towards the Mothma estate, wasn't so much empty bravado as it was empty of possibility. The eight members of Black Squadron along with Gaunt's diplomatic corps did not, a parade group make.
"Well," Mithel said with a shrug, "I was just going to lie."
Gaunt smiled from behind the Captain's shoulder. He was already well aware of the idea germinating in Mithel's mind. It was reckless, foolish, and nearly guaranteed to blow up in their faces. However, he supported it for one reason. It was in line with Lord Vader's orders and even if it didn't work, they'd still be one step closer to rescuing Mon Mothma's family, which was the entire point. If they couldn't do that, Gaunt and Mithel would face the brunt of the Sith's malice. Anything was an improvement over that eventuality.
Captain Mithel outlined his plan. To begin, they'd rope the authorities into it. Most of the local law would be inclined to accept anything major Gaunt said. After all, he was Vader's right hand at the moment, and his face was on all the holo-vids over the last few days. Next, any civilians so-inclined would be invited to join in. Probably kids and parents for the most part.
When the other's more or less accepted the cockamamie idea, they checked their six and walked out with all the confidence they could muster, making a beeline for the first member of Hanna City's constabulary they laid eyes on.
The alleyway they left, on the very edge of the industrial district, was practically across the road from the bleeding edge of the commerce sector. Scattered across this part of the city, cheap apartment blocs became a sort of border between the two. It wasn't the residential zone peopled by those with better options. Like all major cities, Hanna was home to a population of unfortunates, but unlike other planets they managed to keep the destitute to a bare minimum, a result largely thanks to the Mothma family and its efforts in charity work. Still, they couldn't solve everything, and it was more than obvious that a few faces who watched Gaunt and Black Squadron cross the road spent the vast majority of their day hoping the next meal would involve more than wishes and dreams.
A man dressed in a law enforcement uniform began to reach for his sidearm, an antiquated blaster by Coruscant standards, but he thought better of it when he saw the Storm trooper uniforms worn by Gaunt's people and the black spec-ops outfits that Mithel's group sported. He was frozen in place for a few seconds, but visibly relaxed at Gaunt's introduction. Then he heard the major mention a parade.
"Here, sir? A parade? Through these streets?"
It was an understandable question. The other parades had so far traversed the main thoroughfares. Starting a march in the back streets and pulling in the least fortunate of Hanna City was almost unthinkable, but if it helped Mithel and Gaunt in following Vader's orders, then so be it.
"Yes," Gaunt said. "Lord Vader desires to give the less fortunate a show. Make sure they get to enjoy themselves today, you understand? The emperor is very interested in giving these people something during his visit," Gaunt said. "He would be most disappointed if his presence did not provide entertainment to the lower classes. You understand?" The implied threat of the Sith Lord's ire was more than enough to get the policeman standing straighter and ripping off a picture perfect salute as he agreed and ran off to find more men who would assist him, in addition to the people he'd no doubt tell to join if they knew what was good for them. Darth Vader's escapades, and the holo-vids showcasing them, became known far and wide. No sane man would ever wish to be in the cross hairs of an Emperor with the full might of the Force at his beck and call.
"Looks like we might just pull this off," Gaunt said with a glance at Mithel.
"Force willing," the Captain replied.
###
When Vader arrived at Brionelle Military Academy hours earlier, it had been by way of a hovercraft. Now, standing outside the school grounds, he found himself bereft of transport. Every single vehicle was either gone or scuttled. Smoke poured out of the few machines still remaining. Apparently those who escaped had taken steps to slow his progress. Given time and tools, he could bring at least one on line, but at the moment the Dark Lord lacked both.
Whetting his appetite for battle on the recently deceased, Vader's patience quickly wore thin and the Force came to his command. Three hovercraft and a small aero-car bore the brunt of his rage, winding up as little more than balls of scrap metal.
Kshhhhhh
"They will suffer for this."
As his tattered cape whipped this way and that in the wind, Darth Vader stalked off towards the Mothma residence on the far side of Hanna City. From the hill he was walking down, he could make out the Silver Sea glinting in the distance beyond skyscrapers and the dome of the Debate Rotunda. Black Squadron would be about there by now, if they knew what was good for them.
The Emperor's intuition played at the edges of his thoughts. Something about events thus far made him all but sure there was a Jedi's hand behind these things.
"Kenobi…"
His former master, one of the few Vader himself knew to have survived the purge of Order 66. If Obi-Wan was the source of this, he would finally settle their score, but nagging doubts led the Sith to seek other answers. The use of civilians, the destruction and loss of life, all of it seemed at odds with Master Kenobi. These felt more like the tactical decisions of one dedicated to battle. In some ways, Vader felt a sense of kinship with the thoughts behind the actions. A degree of ruthlessness, molded by a single minded dedication to combat, sat behind these decisions.
Kshhhhhh
"If my old Master possessed such, he would have finished me," Vader growled.
If anyone else even made the suggestion that Vader had been at Obi-Wan's mercy, death would be a gift compared to what the Sith would do. But in his own private thoughts, he would not deny that truth. His overconfidence in his own strength allowed for a downfall not even Yoda could orchestrate.
Vader's current body was the result of his own weakness.
Grinding his teeth, he boiled with hatred for his past self and a bird flying overhead became an unfortunate victim of the Sith's unfocused anger, its spine shattering mid-flight. Continuing onward, his anger abated for a moment when he sensed the presence of life forms approaching. At the same time, a thought occurred.
"Droid, respond," Vader demanded.
"Yes, Lord Vader?" Ceezee answered from its place on standby at the Hanna City starport.
"Search records for any Jedi that potentially survived the purge. Focus on those dedicated to war and combat. I want results by the time Tanis Mothma is secured."
"Understood, Lord Vader."
Cutting the comm, Vader watched as armored personnel carriers and hover tanks speed toward him. Using his helmet to zero in on them, he took note of the lack of any official markings. That meant they were private security. Either the Mothma house was now free and sending him support, or Comarc forces, under the control of rebels, were bearing down on him.
Drawing his lightsaber, Vader strongly desired the latter.
###
As Gaunt and Mithel led their teams down the street, more and more joined in, marching and cheering at the Imperial procession. A handful of local enforcers stayed at the edges, watching for trouble.
"I can't believe this is working," Mithel said over a the secure channel.
"Captain," Cive Rashon reproached, "this was your plan."
"It wasn't even that good," Ada tacked on.
"And yet," Gaunt interrupted, "Here we are, on our way to the Mothma estate."
The diplomatic corps and Black Squadron, making good time through the city and towards their goal, did their best to keep up the appearance as they waved to the crowds. Currently, they were passing the Debate Rotunda and the streets, thronged with onlookers, provided a degree of cover from any rebels. If the enemy wanted a shot at the Galactic Empire, they'd be forced to take it in a crowd full of civilians, further poisoning the well against them.
Currently, everyone had taken off their helmets. It was true that this presented a good chance for rebels to take a shot at them, but Mithel and Gaunt considered it worth the risk. If one of them fell to a sniper, the rest would quickly jam their armor back over their heads and take up the counter assault. And when the people scattered and Black Squadron returned fire, no one would argue the Empire fired the first shot.
"It is a war of information as much as anything else. And we control the media." Gaunt's words were not wrong. No journalists who wanted continued access to the Senate or Imperial Palace would be so foolish to publish rebel propaganda when doing so might kill their chances of an interview with the movers and shakers, to say nothing of the Sith Emperor himself.
At least, that was what they hoped.
Gaunt and Mithel had been banking on rebels being wise enough to avoid an inter-planetary incident, but that became a vain wish. The first bolt of blaster fire hit one of Gaunt's men, knocking him down, but not finishing the job.
The parade burst into a cavalcade of screams and a mass of rushing bodies as the stink of fear spread.
Black Squadron pulled their helmets down and threw themselves to the nearest cover to try and return fire. Gaunt dragged his downed subordinate behind a stairwell leading up to some apartment bloc. "Do what you have to, Captain!" he shouted at Mithel. Peeking out, the Major used his blaster pistol, doing little better than blind firing in the rough direction of the first shot.
"Is that the best you got!?" Neel shouted, a note of fear in his voice, from his position behind a building corner. He popped out and peppered the rooftops with a burst of laser fire. As red blasts of light hit the road and surrounding buildings, Black Squadron did their best to make minimal targets, only peeking out when they felt it was safe. Mithel stood with his back to the stonework of an apartment complex, waiting for his chance to take a bead on the enemy.
"Anyone have a shot?" he asked.
"Hang on," Rosh said.
Captain Mithel watched him vanish into a building across the street. Judging from the noise of boots the former mercenary would be surging up the stairs. When the sound of a door slamming open registered on the comms, his arrival on the rooftop became obvious.
"Shoot at me, will you?" Rosh muttered. Somewhere up above, the red light of laser fire burst over everyone's heads.
"Return fire," Mithel ordered as Rosh went to work.
The whole of Black Squadron peeked out of cover and responded, taking what shots they could at the enemy. As they did, the local enforcers added their own pistols to the barrage, making sure the rebels couldn't respond against the volume of fire.
"You hold the expertise here, Captain," Gaunt said, crouching. "What now?"
"We need to push forward. I'm sick and tired of being on the defensive." Yanking a smoke grenade form his belt and tossing it a few feet away, Mithel waited until the billow masked him and sprinted through it, moving forward to the next suitable position. "Black Squadron, we're moving up. If you aren't providing cover fire I want to see those legs pumping. Rosh, keep their heads down for us."
A scream echoed and they watched one rebel fall to his death from a sixth story.
"Gotcha, Captain," Rosh answered, admiring his handy work from his sniper nest.
"Let us move with all due speed," Gaunt added over the comms. "If we take too long, Lord Vader may arrive to subdue the rebels ahead of us."
###
From the perspective of the tanks and armored carriers, Vader stood out like a black beacon on the crest of the hill. His shadowy spread behind him in the wind and a red beam of light burned like an angry sun in his right hand.
The rebel forces, to their surprise, found Vader's comm channel was open and ready to receive.
"Darth Vader, the so-called Emperor. I suggest you surrender immediately. If not, you face a compliment of tanks and an infantry unit capable of taking down even a Jedi. Don't think your lightsaber can protect you from cannon fire. Do yourself a favor and drop your weapon. Do so and we will extend all rights due a prisoner of war."
The soldiers of the rebellion collectively held their breath, waiting for a reply. Somehow, even with their advantage of armor, weapons, and numbers, none of them wanted to fight.
Kshhhhhh
"I do not fear the dead."
Vader walked towards them, unhurried. And they were all the more nervous for his apparent lack of concern.
"Spear-point, this is Command. Open fire."
The hover tank leading the way swung its massive laser cannon around to focus on the tall cyborg. Inside, a gunner zeroed in on the target and let her finger slowly rest on the trigger. "I have the shot, sir," she said with one eye shut, peering through the viewfinder.
Before she could act, the figure lifted his left arm and extend it in her direction. Suddenly she felt her turret lurch to the side and lost sight of the enemy. "Belay that!" she shouted. "Target lost!" She left the controls to figure out what was going on, then found herself stuck. Her right hand's grip tightened around handle as her index finger hovered over the trigger. "What the-?" she began to ask, but before finishing the sentence, she saw the armored personnel carrier through her viewfinder and felt the pressure increase on her finger.
"NO!"
It was too late. Too late to warn the others in the tank. Too late to send a message to the rest of the group. Too late to tell the carrier. The aiming reticule centered on the vehicle and against her will, that finger pressed down on the trigger.
A burst of blue light erupted from the end of the cannon and everyone watched as it flashed across the field. Slamming into the troop transport, the whole thing went up in a bright red ball of fire and plasma, erased as if it never was.
Realizing what happened, the Command vehicle issued orders. "All unit's open fire! Soldiers, get out of your carriers and spread out! Don't be a massive target! Hit him with everything! Blasters, explosives, cannons! Just hit him!"
Kshhhhhh
"Useless."
Vader shot forward, moving faster than anyone could expect of such a bulky, armored man. Using the Force to carry him onward, he pushed his artificial limbs to their limit and blurred down the hill into the first line of enemies. His lightsaber sliced through Spear-point's main gun and with his free hand he swung himself up atop the turret, quickly cutting the hatch apart. For one long second stretching into infinity, he looked down into the tank. The grenades on everyone's hips suddenly activated and as the gunner glanced back up, she saw only the open sky. Vader was gone, moving on to his next victim. A gout of fire sprayed out of Spear-point's open hatch as the black-armored cyborg jumped from the turret to the top of an armored transport. His lightsaber cut it open and he pulled with the Force, sending the soldiers inside spilling out on the grassy hill. He dropped from the vehicle as it swerved, driver-less, into another tank. Other soldiers and tank turrets tried to line up shots on the Sith, but he lifted the rebel's he'd yanked out and used them as living shields.
That single moment of hesitation was all Vader needed. His hostages flew through the air into the vehicles, sending the entire battle group into chaos as writhing bodies slammed into their view ports and windows.
Kshhhhhh
Vader watched the confusion spread as every unit swerved or spun out trying to avoid hitting each other in an orchestra of violence and deadly, spinning disorder. The Sith held up his non-dominant hand. With two fingers and a thumb, he slowly twisted his wrist, bringing the nearest carrier around against the driver's will. As the steering stick moved according to Vader's desire, it stabilized and brought itself to the Dark Lord's side, where his lightsaber cut into the armor, severing the head of one soldier before cutting another in half with a twitch of the Emperor's hand. Up against a Force-user, the opaque armor did nothing to hide them and even without seeing their precise location, Vader's blows unerringly found one target after another.
As a new tank turret swung around, the Sith clenched a metal fist. Guided by the Dark Side, the barrel of the tank's main gun crumpled the instant its occupant squeezed the trigger. A high-explosive shell launched down the tube where it impacted the crushed steel and burst. The explosion took the entire turret in a rush of flame and violence. If anyone inside survived the concussive impact of the blast, the fire would finish them soon enough. Vader turned to his next target, a personnel carrier unleashing its troops who immediately opened fire. Lasers peppered the ground around Vader as he dashed behind the first tank he felled, taking out one man with a reflected blaster bolt and ducking behind cover. Rather than hiding, he positioned himself and took up a low, stable stance, legs spread and slightly crouching. The red blade of his lightsaber retracted into the hilt as he powered the weapon down.
Darth Vader allowed himself to drift into that far off place. The barren landscape and oncoming storm in the distance remained. He touched the hint of power he once wielded to turn aside a planet killing beam of energy. Even the barest whisper of that power was enough.
Back on the hillside, Vader's eyes popped open behind the fallen tank and with a grunt of effort his fists shot out, slamming into the metal of the fallen machine. The blow's power dented the hull and the Force empowered push sent the entire thing forward with enough energy to sail straight through the air. Rebels scattered and the tank left a gouge in the earth as it slid down the hill towards the rest of the enemy forces.
The enemy disrupted, formation broken, the dozen or so rebels were little more than targets for the Sith Lord's next attack.
With a swing, he sent his saber spinning and at the same moment launched himself forward, condensing the Power of the Force beneath his feet to jump the full distance and land like a hateful asteroid. As his flying weapon cut through them, his hands caught two attempting to stand and aim their blasters. He snapped their necks without hesitation and moved onto a third, felling her with heart-pulping stomp.
In a fatal moment of recoiling horror, the next few rebels found they couldn't breath and Vader's extended hand throttled the lot of them with cold, telekinetic fury. In his other hand, he snatched the lightsaber from the air as it returned like an obedient hound. As soon as he did, the blade spun around, blocking fire from another group of rebels attempting a foolhardy rescue.
Kshhhhhh
"Is this all the challenge you can offer!? Where is the Jedi!?"
As Vader's rage crescendoed, his methods of killing the enemy forces only became more brutal. The next tank to try and line up a shot never even had the chance. The entire hull crumpled, crushing everyone inside.
"Bring me a challenge, rebels!"
Vader uttered those words as he watched two personnel carriers try to pull u-turns and flee back into Hanna City. The carnage on the outlying hill leading up to the military academy would be visible from the capital. A good warning for anyone foolish enough to think the Emperor's rule could be contested. Now he would enter, victorious conqueror.
As the vehicles attempted to leave the failed assault, Vader sensed the still undiminished will power coming from as single tank.
The commander, no doubt.
Kshhhhhh
"Admirable, but futile."
Vader walked, neither hurried nor with any trepidation, towards the last enemy to still move against him. All others had now begun to scatter, hoping against hope that they might flee the might of the Galactic Emperor's ceaseless wrath. Opening his helmet comm to unsecured channels, Vader spoke freely. "You have failed. Tell me which Jedi is behind this attack." He was ready to hear the name of his former Jedi master. Surely Obi-Wan Kenobi, who attempted to foil his acquisition of Kyle Katarn, would be the source of this attack as well. Perhaps his old master learned from his mistakes. Perhaps he was now willing to make the hard choices. Vader yearned for the chance to wipe away his loss on Mustafar. The sting of defeat still remained, a seed of weakness. A failure of the tests the Dark Side provided. A permanent mar on his soul. Vader couldn't help but desire the chance to scrub that shame clean.
"The Jedi Master will face you soon enough," was all the answer Vader received before the link went dead and a burst of blue light left the turret and flashed across the battlefield.
Using the Force, Vader pulled a bit of wreckage into the path of the blast and shielded himself.
"If you will not submit, you will die."
Tossing the scrap metal aside, Vader strode up to the tank, intent on cutting it apart and dragging the leader of this doomed expedition out. He wouldn't kill him immediately. Instead he would face a different sort of justice on Coruscant. A useful political tool, not some martyr more rebels could rally to.
At least, that was his intention. Then he felt a premonition in the Force.
Dropping to the ground, Darth Vader reached down into the earth and grasped a mass of rock and soil with the Dark Side, dragging it upward. As he did, the tank glowed for the briefest of moments and a voice over the comm link whispered, "May the Force be with us," before it erupted in a plasmic explosion of light and fury.