The Emperor’s Lambda-Class t4-a Shuttle, Great Gran Run Hyperspace lane, Tashtor Sector, 4 ABY
Krest was furious. She paced the short distance of the stateroom in stuttering, angry steps. Meera placed her finger on the mute button, suspending the Shaaridan bounty hunter’s face on a blinking pause. “Krest, I have an idea.”
“As do I, and it involves scattering that creature’s atoms from here to Velusia.”
Velusia, Velus System – Galactic Core
“There may be another way to play this and I think I know how to do it. You said the crew of the Stargazer would defend themselves, how many are there?”
“The last time the Emperor brought us here, Aloo had his own private army of aboard that ship. Surely they have heard about the disaster over Endor by now. Anyone coming close to it will have quite a fight on their hands.”
“How loyal are they to Aloo?”
“As much as we are, or were, to the Emperor. They are not conscripts or mercenaries. He cultivated the greatest warriors from Oktaria as his personal security, and there’s no telling who—or what—else they have on board.”
“How do you think they would feel about you if they knew you killed him?” The glare Krest shot back said more than any words. “If we’re going to get out of this and get what you want off the Stargazer, I need you to do exactly what I say or we’re all going to die.”
Krest stared at her with a long look of distrust, but she knew Aloo’s soldiers would cut her down without mercy for killing him if they found out she did it. “Alright, Lieutenant. Let’s hear your plan.”
“We need to get everyone on the same page or it won’t work. Gather the troops in here. We don’t have much time.” Krest opened the door and spoke quietly to Sergeant Marillion. In moments, the sergeant was back with Majors Deshken and Andalor along with Technician Vel. The six of them filled the small room to capacity, so the others crowded outside. Krest gestured to Meera. “Let’s hear it, Lieutenant.”
Meera looked around the room and gave a reassuring nod, though she wasn’t even sure herself that this plan would work, but it was all she had. “I need you all to trust what I am about to do. You need to put aside loyalties and feelings about the Empire and follow my lead.” She picked up a datapad from the table and tossed it to Marillion. “Sergeant, have one of your men get Aloo’s code cylinder and a photograph of his face on the double if you please.” He shuffled through the others out of the room. She took a quick deep breath and removed her finger from the mute button. The blue static image of Gekko sparked back to life. “Here we go.”
“…inal warning. You will be taken. How you are taken is your choice. The Guild pays me either way. Power down your engines or be fired upon!”
“Bounty hunter Gekko, this is Meera Dyre. Please don’t fire on us! I was a prisoner on the Death Star. We are not Imperials. I repeat, we are not Imperials. We are refugees and wish to negotiate. Please do not fire!”
“Your claim is weak, Meera Dyre. The Imperial code your ship is transmitting tells me you are not only Imperials, but you travel aboard the shuttle of Emperor Palpatine, himself.” The guttural, reptilian tone of the bounty hunter’s voice sounded sarcastic and unconvinced. Meera cleared her throat to respond as a cannon blast seared across the bow of the shuttle in warning.
“We are not Imperials, I said. Hold your fire!” She muted the transmitter. “Sergeant, I need that picture. Krest, tell the pilot to power down the engine but keep his finger on the button. If this works, we’re going to need to get out of here quickly.” Sweat broke out on her brow. She needed to convince Gekko to stop firing on them before the Stargazer noticed the skirmish and got involved. Timing was everything. She unmuted Gekko again and altered her voice to sound panicked.
“We were prisoners of the Empire but escaped aboard this shuttle. We overpowered the guards and took a hostage. He’s an Imp, or he was. Looked like someone important. He was killed in the skirmish but we still got out. Please, don’t fire on us. We just want to live.”
There was a long silence. At first, Meera thought the holo-projector stopped working, but the Shaaridan monster turned his head. At least he stopped firing on them.
“Gekko, did you hear us? We are not Imps—”
“Who is your hostage? Speak now!”
Gekko the Bounty Hunter, art by Aubrey Eden Dukes
She pressed the mute button again. “Sergeant, where is that picture?” The datapad was passed forward through the throng. The contorted face of Sim Aloo stared back through the screen. At that moment, the rhythmic thrum of the ship’s engines stopped as the pilot powered down the engines. She looked at Krest. “Tell the pilot to be ready. As soon as we offload Aloo’s body, fire the engines and hail the Stargazer with a mayday. We’ll be coming in hot.”
“Just what do you have in mind, Lieutenant?” Major Deshken appeared to not like this part of the plan. “Going down this path will get us all killed. You heard the bounty hunter. He has us dead in the water!”
“Lieutenant Dyre is in charge of this plan, Major,” Krest stepped in front of him. “Accept it or find your way to the airlock. I’m sure the Shaaridan will welcome the extra profit from your surrender.” He acquiesced, but the look on his face screamed that he was not happy about it. Meera punched in a code on the datapad, sending the digital death mask of Aloo through the comm channel. She watched as the progress bar painfully crawled across the screen like a wounded womprat.
“Transmission underway. Check your datapad,” she said into the holoprojector. “It looks like the shuttle computer recognized him, too. He was an Imperial adviser named Sim Aloo. He resisted, so we had to kill him.”
Again, there was a long silence. She could see the Shaaridan looking between screens to verify Aloo’s identity. Finally, he spoke. “What was your crime, Meera Dyre?”
“What?” she asked, confused.
“You were a prisoner of the Empire. What was your crime? I warn you, do not lie or I will know it.”
She knew that the Shaaridan species had a pheromone sensitivity that could sense deceit. Something in their reptilian nature gave them abilities some would consider unnatural. If she continued to lie, he wouldn’t know it now, but should be board the shuttle, they could not hide it from him. That’s why she decided to tell a partial truth.
“My father stole something from them,” she said, not making eye contact with anyone else in the room. “And I hid it. When I refused to give it back, they killed him and took me.”
“What did he steal?”
“If you’re trying to find a puck on me—” She wasn’t expecting any further inquiry. Meera suddenly regretted bringing everyone in the room to hear this.
“I will not ask again. What did he steal?”
“It was a Kyber Crystal.” Deshken gasped, but everyone else remained silent.
“Do you still possess this crystal, Meera Dyre?” Her hand went to her neck and felt for the familiar bulge of it at the end of the leather thong, always hiding in plain sight under her Imperial uniform.
“There is a ship, The Stargaz—”
“I am aware of Aloo’s vessel. They scan us as we speak. Again, do you still possess the crystal? Is it on your person?” She reached into her shirt and pulled out, the room’s light refracted in tiny rainbows as it spun in her hand. She held it where he could see its reddish brilliance shine through the holoprojector.
“I do, and I will make you a deal.”
“Speak.”
“We will place Aloo’s body and my crystal in a cargo container and drop it out of the air lock. You can take it and collect the reward for him from the Republic. The crystal is yours as a gift.”
“And in exchange for this generous gift?”
“You will fire warning shots at us for effect, after which you will jump to hyperspace and let us go our own way.” Meera kept the crystal dangling in front of the device where she knew Gekko could see it spin and refract. The shuttle pilot comm interrupted and she quickly hit the pause button.
“Stargazer is hailing us. They are transmitting Advisor Aloo’s personal docking codes. They must have been expecting him. Your orders, Captain Krest?”
Krest looked at Meera with urgency in her eyes. “Wait,” she said to Krest, then tossed her necklace to Major Andalor. “Major, take another and prepare to jettison Aloo’s body. Double time please, Major.” He nodded in agreement and one of the Storm Troopers followed him out. Meera then turned back to the projector. “Gekko, do we have a bargain?”
The projection flickered and refocused on the bounty hunter’s masked face. “We have a bargain, Meera Dyre. I sense you speak the truth, yet still hide much. I warn you, should you double-cross me, I will assign you the Death Mark of the Shaaridi. My kind will not rest until you are destroyed.”
“I understand. You are most gracious and deserve your reward. Stand by for cargo offload.” She cut the projector and looked at Krest. “Once the airlock reseals, tell the pilot to answer the hail with a distress call. Have him report a toxin on board and that we have captured a traitor that killed Aloo. Tell him not to make it sound Imperial.”
“What does that mean?” Krest asked with a puzzled expression.
“The more professional it sounds, the less believable it becomes. Tell him to make it lubberly and un-Imperial Navy-like. Request that they fire on the bounty hunter’s ship, shoot to kill. Then put him in our wake and run for the Stargazer. One good thrust in their direction, then cut the engine and let us drift.”
Krest scowled. “Adrift makes us vulnerable. I don’t like it.”
“Like it or not, we need to look panicked or they’ll see right through the ruse and we die anyway.” Meera was taking a risky path, but in her mind, she could see the entire scenario play out perfectly, almost as if she had seen or done this before. Had she? The feelings of deja vu were overpowering yet somehow in her mind, she could see every piece of this plan working.
Krest smiled in return. “You’re more useful than I thought you would be, Lieutenant.” She looked at the rest. “Look alive, rebel scum. Battle stations, and prepare for close-quarter combat!” They scurried out, leaving Krest and Meera alone for a moment.
“How did you know the bounty hunter would accept your terms? He could have taken us any time he wanted.” Krest asked.
Meera smiled back. “My father had dealings with Trandoshans once. They are as bad a Jawas when it comes to shiny objects. Since the Shaaridi are close cousins of Trandoshans, I took a gamble. It worked out.”
“Your ‘shiny object’ is property of the Empire,” Major Deshkin walked back in after hearing her last statement. “You stole from your Emperor and then hid your father’s crime. Now you give your ill-gotten gains freely to this beast and take foolish risks with all our lives. You should be executed for this insolence. Your father was no better than the rebels we fight against!”
Major Karlov Deshken, photographed at his promotion to captain, Imperial Loyalty Bureau
Meera shot from her chair and charged at the Major. Krest intercepted her before she crashed into him, holding her back. “My father paid for that crime with his life!” Meera screamed back. “The Emperor got his justice when his Storm Troopers came for us and murdered him. Despite all that, here I am, still loyal to the Empire, you bastard! How dare you!” The Major was taken aback by the ferocity of her response, but composed himself for a reply ripped straight from the pages of an Imperial Training manual.
“None of that matters. I will be adding your most irregular behavior to my report for the fleet and requesting a full inquiry. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be below assisting Major Andalor.”
Meera struggled against Krest. Rage and anger coursed through her marrow. She reached after him and missed by some distance, but a sensation in her hand felt like she had grabbed him anyway. The Major stopped in his tracks and grabbed at his throat, gasping like he was being choked. Meera strained against Krest’s grip, but focused her intense feelings of hate on Deshkin. She could feel her hand around his neck and squeezing the life from him, though she was still several feet away. Her fingers slowly clenched into a fist while he turned shades of red, then blue. With a flick of her wrist, his neck spun in an unnatural twist and his corpse collapsed to the floor.
Krest flung Meera down into the chair and quickly shut the door. “My, my, Lieutenant Dyre. First, a kyber crystal, and now you use the force like a Sith Lord. What other forbidden secrets do you harbor in there?” Major Andalor’s voice crackled over the intercom before she could answer.
“Payload ready for launch, Lieutenant Dyre. Awaiting you order.”
Meera was exhausted. Her lungs could barely take in enough air to speak. She did not know what just happened, but it drained every ounce of energy she had. The anger overtook her senses and she couldn’t control herself. Krest sat and pressed her finger to her lips, indicating for Meera remain quiet. “Dyre has been attacked by Major Deshkin. Send Marillion and his troopers to the conference room immediately.” She then pressed the cockpit comm. “Keep your finger on the button, Lieutenant Cearza.”
“Aye, Captain Krest. Standing by.”
She stared at Meera again with a look of wide wonder and calculating calm. “When Marillion arrives, follow my lead.” She stood, drew her vibroblade, and plunged it deep into Deshkin’s chest. Just then, the door swung wide and Marillion’s red-armored form filled the entrance without his helmet, but blaster at the ready.
The Imperial Crimson Storm Trooper Battalion
“What happened here?” he asked.
“It would seem the good Major was angry that Lieutenant Dyre stole from his precious Empire. He attacked her and I ended it. Take his body below and toss him in with Aloo. That should earn us extra goodwill the bounty hunter.”
Marillion looked at Meera with confusion. She sat sprawled in the chair, panting like a Lothcat, barely conscious and drenched in sweat. All she could do was nod in agreement. Marillion and one of his men took Deshkin’s arms and drug him out. The door swished closed behind them and Krest sheathed her deadly talon.
“I cannot have the crew see us as equals, Dyre. I control them because they fear me. If they know what you are capable of, I no longer control that fear. Loyalty becomes divided, and I cannot allow that. Something has awoken within you. You possess the very skills the Emperor scoured the galaxy for, but be mindful. Just because he is dead does not mean you are safe. There are others, and the Emperor still has reach far beyond the grave.”
“I am…I’m no one…I am just a …medical off…icer. Nothing more.” Meera struggled to reply.
“Silly girl. You are far more than that now. I’ll keep your secret and you will follow my command until this mission is complete. If you’ll agree to that, I swear to you I will help you discover these abilities you have. Earlier I gave you a choice, so I ask you once again: Join me and live or oppose me and die. We’ll speak on this again after we’ve taken the Stargazer.” She reached over to the comm. “Major Andalor, is the secondary cargo prepared?”
“Yes, Captain. Prepared.”
“Good. Activate Aloo’s code cylinder and jettison the package immediately.” She quickly pressed the button to the pilot. “Lieutenant Cearza, once the cargo doors close, give a twenty-count, then fire engines. Plot intercept course with Stargazer and request fire support. Distress signal Zeta-Omicron-Six-Six. Give me some distance between us and this bounty hunter heathen.”
“Aye, Captain. Orders confirmed”
“Stay here and recover, Dyre. You’re going to need your strength for what comes next. We’ll handle the rest of your plan from here.” Krest swept out, leaving Meera alone.
Over the last twelve hours, Meera’s body endured a myriad of brutal trials, from the relentless thrashing aboard the failing Death Star, to the stresses of the situation aboard this shuttle, her lifeboat, and now whatever supernatural transformation was happening to her. The moments of quiet washed over like waves, making her limbs and eyes heavy. It felt like days since she slept. As her head lolled to the side, a tiny blue light flickered on the holoprojector. She swung her arm up as if it were tied down with stones and pushed it. The Shaaridan’s face in a blue holographic triangle erupted upward.
“Meera Dyre, my patience wears thin. You have—”
“Run.”
“Repeat your message?”
“They’re calling Aloo’s ship to destroy you. Take your bounty and run.” A grinding sound could be heard through the durasteel walls as the cargo doors swung open to space. They were sending out the bodies.
“I fear no luxury cruiser. My ship is—”
“There’s an army aboard it, loyal to the Empire. Take what we have offered you and run. You only have a moments to live otherwise.”
“You speak truly, Meera Dyre?” The grinding sound started again. The cargo bay doors were closing.
“I do. You have twenty seconds. Collect the payload and run.”
“You have earned the respect of Gekko. I will not forget this.” His visage wavered and disappeared. She didn’t know what happened after that. Her eyes closed and exhaustion took her.
Coming Soon in Star Wars: Lifeboat, Part VII…
Krest leads a boarding party onto the Stargazer seeking the holocron manual and her missing son, and ends up finding more than she bargained for when Aloo’s guards unleash an unexpected and powerful enemy against the shuttle crew. Meera struggles with her new-found abilities and what they are turning her in to, and Captain Vario finally wakes with a warning for her. Tune in next time!
Disclaimer
The preceding is a work of fan fiction based upon and utilizing locations, characters, and/or plot points from the Star Wars universe, originally created by George Lucas and trademarked to Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author makes no claim whatsoever of ownership of the Star Wars name, characters represented, or the Star Wars universe generally. This work is created of the author’s own imagination and is intended for entertainment purposes only. It does not purport to be an “official” Star Wars story or part of existing Star Wars canon in any way. The author is not profiting financially in any way as the result of the creation or publication of this piece of fan fiction.
Inda Krest, Meera Dyre and the rest of the surviving Imperials from the Death Star II arrive at Volusia to raid the Aloo Family star yacht, only to be ambushed by the opportunistic bounty hunter, Gekko!
Now, in Part V, we flash back a final time to join Darth Vader and Lieutenant Seeda at The Temple of the Kyber on the ancient moon of Jedha. The Emperor has ordered his apprentice to restart the stalled Kyber crystal excavation and retrieve two artifacts from the temple. While the crystal mining gets back underway, a rebel faction on Jedha, led by the outlaw Saw Gerrera, learns of Vader’s arrival at the temple and attempts to take him out. And now, Part V…
Temple of the Kyber, The Holy City, Moon of Jedha – 1BBY (5 years earlier)
credit: Luscafilm
Darth
Vader never felt such a strong disturbance in the Force as he did the day his
ship entered orbit over the ancient moon of Jedha. Many considered the moon to
be the site of the first Jedi Temple. In reality, Jedha held the largest known
deposits of natural Kyber crystals in the galaxy, and the Empire’s mining operation of those crystals had
stalled. Completion of Project:
Stardust depended on restarting the mine, despite
the obstacles the operation faced. Kyber wasn’t the only thing plentiful on Jedha. The
moon was crawling with troublesome rebels, known as The Partisans.
Completion of his fortress on Mustafar would have to wait. The Emperor needed
Vader on Jedha to ensure the crystals were harvested without further incident.
His master commanded. Vader obeyed.
He sat in his stateroom watching their approach from the video feed at the nose of the ship. The Holy City of Jedha sat atop a mesa in the middle of a vast desert. The smashed ruins of the Imperial ground base sat in the foothills before it. Rebels had sacked it a month prior, delaying Kyber harvesting and forcing the mining operation to move aboard the Star Destroyer Dauntless, which now hovered above the city. As he watched, the disturbance pulsated as the crystals cried out in agony. Something was disturbing them, sending shock waves through the Force unlike anything he had ever felt.
Imperial Navy Destroyer Dauntless over Jedha City
In the shadow of the Dauntless stood the ancient Temple of the Kyber, dominating the skyline of the bustling city formed around it. The two towering forked spires jutted into the sky as if to tune the very winds to the will of its masters. He noted the similarities the structure to Momin’s final design of Fortress Vader back on Mustafar. A simple coincidence? Perhaps the Force brought me here with purpose after all, he mused. He surmised the design must be significant in channeling the energies of the Force. He would consult with Momin’s depraved Sith spirit upon his return home. Fortress Vader on Mustafar must serve the same purpose as the temple here on Jedha, but to a greater degree. Still, the crystals wept.
Four TIE-Interceptors took up flanking positions on their final approach to the Dauntless. The comm speaker buzzed and a caption appeared on Vader’s screen showing the burly Commander Kyson, resplendent in the fineries of his formal Imperial uniform.
“Lord
Vader, you honor us with your presence on Jedha. How may my forces and I be of
service?”
“Commander
Kyson,” Lord Vader growled back. “Your Kyber refinement production is behind
schedule. I am here to update your process and reignite your passion for
meeting The Emperor’s deadlines.”
“I
assure you, my Lord, we are operating at full capacity,” came the timid reply. “We
boast the highest efficiency rating from Imperial Industrial Command, and from
Director Krennic.”
“The
Emperor does not share your enthusiasm for that rating. What is the status of
your progress?”
“In a word, my Lord, remarkable. We are excavating the largest crystal ever recorded in the Imperial archives. The size is well beyond what is needed for Stardust’s main weapon. It connects into a chamber under the temple we cannot explain, and we are studying it’s structure before proceeding. Removing it could collapse the whole temple. Surely this momentous discovery merits a merciful delay.”
“The
Emperor is a great many things that I am not, Commander, and one of them is
merciful. Prepare to receive my shuttle and appropriate escort to your
excavation site. I’ll will see this progress-hindering crystal myself,” Vader
replied in annoyance.
“Of
course, my Lord. Our finest battalion will escort you at your leisure.”
“Tell
me of the rebels that plague your operation,” Vader asked, abruptly changing
the subject.
Kyson shifted uncomfortably. “Vermin and local scum, my lord. Nothing
more than paltry annoyance, I assure you. My men are dealing with them swiftly.”
He tried to sound confident, but Vader knew he was lying.
“That
is your error, Commander. You do not deal with rebels; you crush them. Your
lack of fortitude emboldens their attacks. I will assume command of your three
attack battalions and see them destroyed. Have your battle plans prepared for
my review.” Kyson kept his composure, but Vader could sense the insult spark an
anger brimming over in the sluggard officer. For too long, Orson Krennic’s pet,
Commander Kyson, has sat safely on his laurels. It was time for a change to his
operations, whether Krennic wanted it or not. “The rebels have continuously
embarrassed you and the Empire, Commander Kyson. I will no longer accept delay
as an excuse for laziness.”
“At
once, My lord. We await your arrival with great antici—”
“Your pleasantries are not required, only your compliance.” He ended the transmission.
The only thing Vader expected to find in Kyson’s strategy was more excuses, delays and failures. In his mind, Vader already knew the battle plan he would follow, using himself as bait to lure out the rebels. No doubt the brazen extremist Saw Gerrera would seize the opportunity to strike such a large target as Darth Vader, and when he did, the trap would spring. He tapped a key at his console and the Empire’s last verified image of Gererra—in a flickering, blue-lined hologram—emerged upward from the projector.
The Emperor knew Vader would be tempted to prioritize hunting the rebels over recovering artifacts, especially considering the history Anakin Skywalker and Gerrera had during the Clone Wars. Darth Vader was no errand boy. Seeda and his two pet Royal Guards could excavate the entire moon if they wished. Vader was a warrior, and today he would strike down his old rebel opponent without mercy.
“All those years ago, you should have died on Onderon with your sister, yet here you are—still vexing my authority,” Vader said to himself, staring down into the image of this rebel from his past. He reached out with an open hand and his lightsaber flew to his side, pulled to him by the Force and ignited the room in a bright red glow. “It will be my pleasure to finally end you.”
At the rear of the shuttle, Lieutenant Seeda looked out the viewing window at the desolate landscape trailing behind them.
Ruins of ancient Jedi civilization crumbled to dust in their wake. Jedha was a historical treasure-trove of Jedi lore. Seeda was excited to be here, though he could not outwardly express it. He couldn’t wait to get down there to root out Jedha’s secrets, but enthusiasm for anything other than the Empire’s goals was frowned upon. The pilot announced their final approach as the shuttle passed underneath the great shadow of the destroyer. Seeda could see other large cargo shuttles taking off for the surface after unloading their Kyber hauls.
“Lieutenant
Seeda,” came the booming electronic voice of Darth Vader behind him, startling
Seeda and making him jump with surprise. How could he have not heard him
approach? “Are you prepared for your mission?”
“Yes,
my lord. My apologies, you startled me. I am completely prepared. I’ve uploaded
the latest Imperial archives on Jedha and her histo—”
“Good.
When we arrive, you will have access to all records of artifacts recovered from
the temple. Report to me immediately if any discoveries contain ancient Sith
references. When your analysis is complete, you will muster with the escort
protection detail and proceed to the Temple.”
“Of
course, my lord. Though, Jedha was the home of ancient Jedi, not the Sith. Do
you expect we’ll find anything to the contrary?”
“Focus
on your area of expertise, Lieutenant. Once you have something, report to me at
once. Tell no one of your discoveries except me. Is that clear?”
“Yes,
Lord Vader, perfectly clear.”
As the shuttle settled into the hangar,
they gathered at the ramp to debark. Through the viewing window, they could see
another shuttle being off-loaded with canisters of what Seeda assumed were
Kyber crystals. The only sound among them was the intermittent electronic
breath of Darth Vader. The sound made Seeda uncomfortable.
“If I may say, it does appear moving the mining operation aboard the Dauntless has guaranteed greater security,” Seeda said and instantly regretted it. The casual manner of their conversation lulled him into a false sense of familiarity with the Sith Lord. Darth Vader did not answer to anyone except the Emperor, especially not a lowly Imperial Navy lieutenant.
Seeda braced for reprisal for his insolence, but the response he received surprised him.
“Your observations on security protocol is not required,” Vader dismissed the notion with a wave of the hand. “However, your assumption is wrong. The loss of surface operations has doubled the resources needed to refine the crystals. Commander Kyson is a fool. He has more than enough troops to secure the city, yet he hesitates because he is weak. I will not tolerate interference from his ineptitude, nor the rebels, with this mission.”
Seeda looked up at the massive black-clad
figure with a puzzled look. “Won’t
you be joining our expedition force to the Temple site?”
“The
Emperor’s pets will keep you safe,” Vader said, gesturing to the guards behind
them. “I have a more important matter to attend. I will join you once my trap
is set.”
“Trap, my lord? I don’t unders—” The hiss of the nose ramp lowering drowned out the rest of his statement. In a flourish of black robes, Vader turned down the ramp with Seeda in step. Immediately after him, the two guards filed behind. A throng of pristine, white-clad Storm Troopers in a robust display of Empirical might were assembled on deck. At their head, a hulking officer in his formal Imperial uniform turned to greet them.
“Lord Vader, this is a most unexpec—” were the only words he got out. Vader extended his hand, stopping his speech in mid-sentence. The large officer lifted from the ground, his shined boots flailing as he clutched his throat and gasped for air. With a slow twist of other his wrist, Vader plucked the struggling Commander’s code cylinders from his breast pocket. They hovered out before the wide eyes of Kyson as he gasped. The tiny cylinders flew to Vader’s outstretched hand.
“Commander Kyson, you are relieved.”
Vader flicked his wrist, and the officer soared across the hangar to the open cargo bay doors. His breath returned in time for Seeda to hear his final scream as he plummeted from the Dauntless into the sands of Jedha far below. Vader turned to Seeda and extended his hand, passing the cylinders to him.
“The records I require reside in Kyson’s office. You may begin.” Vader then turned to address the mass of Storm Troopers assembled before them. “You will stabilize a route to the Temple below. Clear the streets and lock down the city. Let none stand in your way!” His challenge was met with a stomp to attention and a thousand white-armored raised fists.
Residents of the Holy City below were about to understand what it meant to be ruled by the Empire.
The holotable in Kyson’s office was already lit when Seeda arrived. The guards took flanking positions outside the door as it hissed shut, leaving him to work undisturbed. Before him, projecting up six feet into the room, was a holographic maze of green lines outlining the tunnels explored thus far beneath the Temple of the Kyber. Blinking red dots showed at the end of each tunnel with active excavation, and dots of blue marked tunnels already mined and abandoned. At the base of the map was a large, flashing yellow arrow. A few taps at the keyboard told Seeda this is where excavation has halted because of a massive crystal blocking the path forward. He zoomed in the projection to the highest resolution on the yellow area and could see why this brought production to a stand-still.
The crystal truly was a one-of-a-kind
discovery. A quick scan of his Imperial archive records showed no other of this
size or arrangement ever recorded. Even more unique was the crystal, itself. It
was hollow, creating a chamber within, but the energy signature of the
structure blocked whatever was inside it. It was also directly beneath the
split towers, making the massive crystal an integral part of the foundation.
So that’s why you delayed all this, Kyson, he thought while intently studying the holographic data. One wrong move and the whole temple comes crashing down.
Seeda sneered. He hadn’t properly set foot on Jedha yet, and her secrets were already spilling into his hands.
Based on his records, a Kyber crystal of this size and properly harnessed could power half of Coruscant for decades. He understood Kyson’s desire to harvest it whole. That feat would certainly have gained favor with the Emperor, but patience was not a virtue encouraged by the Empire, as Kyson probably realized when he fell three-thousand feet to his death moments before. He was about to close his data-pad and compile his report for Lord Vader when a filename blip on the screen caught his eye:
Whills – Black Sun Sith glyph
The
title said Whills and
followed by an ancient Sith symbol; Borzûm,
the Black Sun. “Well,
hello there little symbol, what are you doing here?” Seeda again tapped again
at the keys bringing up the file.
The symbol was a small black circle with
black rays emanating forth, very similar to the symbol adopted by the Empire
but not encircled. To the untrained eye, it could easily be mistaken for a
sloppy rendition of the latter, but Seeda recognized it immediately. He plugged
Kyson’s code cylinder into the
console and the file opened. Seeda drank in every word and image within,
reading as fast as he could. Kyson had made an incredible discovery and didn’t
even know it! He ran to the door, knocking over his chair in his excitement. He
burst into the hallway, where Captains Vario and Krest were startled by his
sudden appearance. They dropped their Force pikes into defensive positions,
ready to attack before realizing it was just their charge in an excited state.
“Quickly, Captain!” he shouted at Vario. “Contact Lord Vader immediately. I’ve made a momentous discovery!”
Within minutes, the office door hissed open
to a mass of black robes sweeping through the opening. “What have you discovered?” There was never
fanfare with Darth Vader. He spoke, and others obeyed.
“My
lord, I’ve made tremendous progress!” Seeda could no longer contain his
excitement, even in front of the terrifying dark lord. “Commander Kyson was on
the verge of the most incredible find in galactic history and didn’t know what
he was doing!”
“Unless
you wish to share his fate, explain yourself,” Vader commanded. “Speak plainly,
Lieutenant.”
“It’s
not simply just a large Kyber Crystal, per say—,” he replied.
“I
grow tired of your enigmatic mutterings. What have you found, Seeda?”
“My
lord, it’s a vault… A vault of the Whills.”
Vader was silent for a moment as he mulled
over Seeda’s
claim. He knew of midichlorians and the Whills, however, he long ago dismissed
their existence as Jedi dogma; a way for the Republic’s Jedi Masters to
arbitrarily judge the worthiness and strength of a Jedi Knight. Just another
myth perpetuated for control. For now, he would entertain Seeda’s notion until
he could discover the true nature of this revelation. “And what is in this vault?”
“What’s
inside it is what’s inside you, Lord Vader… inside is what you desire most!”
Seeda replied in excitement. “You see, the Whills ar—”
Vader was intrigued, but not convinced yet.
“And what of this Borzûm?
This Black Sun?”
“A
mystery I cannot yet explain, my lord,” Seeda turned back to the keyboard and
brought up the symbol on the holotable. The glyph spun in a slow circle,
casting long shadows throughout the room. “The Borzûm is an
ancient Sith philosophical symbol, a Memento
Mori of sorts, used by Sith Lords of old as a reminder of mortality; a
glorification of the idea we are all dead men walking under a black sun. For the most ambitious of
them, the Borzûm
was taken as a challenge to achieve immortality and defeat death
before it defeated them. But why a Sith symbol is prominently carved into the
wall of a Jedi holy site eludes me. It shouldn’t be here.”
Suddenly, all the pieces of this mystery began to fall into place in Darth Vader’s mind.
Could this truly be what he has sought after all this time? Is this how he can return Padme to the world of the living? The works of Darth Plagueis were here, finally, a mere parsec of where he stood. So many questions with so few answers. He must find out more. “You believe the vault contains the arcane Sith knowledge to cheat death?” he asked Seeda.
He shuffled a moment in uncomfortable
silence. Not having an answer for Lord Vader could be a death sentence at
times. This could be one of those times, as Seeda had no idea what was inside
the vault. “I
cannot answer that for certain, but all I have seen on the subject suggests
that yes, it may be so.” He braced for the reply.
“Make preparations, Lieutenant,” Vader said with impatience and spun on his heel toward the door. “We leave for the Temple at once.”
The streets to the Temple were lined with Storm Troopers going house-to-house. The people of Jedha City were strewn about around them; standing with their hands up, lying prone as their homes were searched, or laying dead in the gutters. All of them were facing the barrel of an E-11 standard-issue Imperial Blaster. The Empire descended like a hammer into the populace and laid waste to those who resisted. The armored transport rumbled through the middle of it, finally halting in front of the Temple steps where Darth Vader and Varon Seeda debarked to begin the second part of their mission. Captains Vario and Krest took up flanks beside them. A battalion of Storm Troopers formed ranks between them and the street rabble behind. Even so, Lieutenant Seeda was nervous.
“We
should have taken a shuttle, my lord,” Seeda remarked as they went inside. “You
are too exposed using ground transport. The city’s unrest could boil over any
moment.”
“Again,
you offer assessment of security protocols without prompting. A third
assessment will ensure you are transferred to the ISB front lines.”
Seeda knew when it was best to stay silent.
Vader did not need further reply from him, only compliance. He mounted his
holo-pad to his wrist and the same map from Kyson’s office sprung up from his hand projector.
“The tunnel entrance is behind the altar. This way.” They marched through the
crumbling ruins of long-forgotten statues of ancient Jedi and columns carved in
Aurebesh, and other languages Seeda could not begin to understand. He wanted to
stop and study each one, but Darth Vader remained laser-focused on the tunnels
below. As he said, on the floor behind the altar was a large hole into the
ground. A stone-carved stair went down into darkness. “The excavation continues
below. We need to be mindfu—”
“The
Emperor’s prize awaits us, and he is not as patient as I. Lead me to the vault.”
Vader commanded. He could still hear the crystals and their wails of agony. The
closer they drew to the altar, the louder they were. Something beneath the
Temple was making them scream out through the Force.
Seeda descended first. Darth Vader took one step down and suddenly, the wailing of the crystals ceased. Silence.
Vader could sense them all turning their
attunement to him, reaching out to him, searching his mind to find out who now
walks among them so powerful in the Force. He could tell the Force-sensitive
guards noticed the quiet as well. He could hear a tiny voice echo through to
him but could not discern what it said. With each step deeper into Jedha, the
voice steadily grew. Then, he could hear it plainly.
Come
to us, Chosen One, it said. We await your presence.
He did not reply, but pressed on behind
Seeda, his hand at the ready over his lightsaber. He detected no danger in the
voice, but something about it made Vader uneasy.
Beware, Chosen One, it said again. One among you is not what they appear. You are in danger.
As they descended further down, they passed
Imperial workers continuing to mine their crystals, though they stopped at the
spectacle of Darth Vader passing among them in the tunnels. Each stopped
working and saluted smartly as the party passed, but Vader paid them little
mind. The voice kept speaking to him with each step, warning him.
You are in danger, Chosen one. One below will betray you. Enter the kyber vault. We will protect you and your companions. The others shall perish.
They wove a path through the gaunt faces of
miners. Most were prisoners or conscripts from the locals. Storm Troopers from
the 43rd Salagori Lancers were stationed every few meters to keep them in line.
Their eyes all fell to the ground when Vader passed. He could sense their fear
as he traversed the tunnel lower and lower to the source of the voices. He
could not determine if the Royal Guards heard them, too. If they did, they did
not react.
Kyber foundation of The Temple of the Kyber, Jedha
The deeper into the cavern they went, the
more workers were present.
We
await you, Chosen One. Make haste.
“We’re
almost there, my lord. The entrance should be just ahead.” Seeda adjusted his
instruments and zoomed in on their location. “The energy emanating from these
caverns is creating interference with—”
“It
is not the crystals…” Lord Vader stopped. Turning to his left, he reached out
his hand and a shriek of agony came from a group of prisoners huddled against
the wall. The Royal Guards ran forward and pulled forward a man in rags, and in
his hand was a transmitter beacon. Two Storm Troopers rushed forward and forced
the man to the ground, but it was not necessary. Vader had already crushed his
windpipe. He took his final gasp as the transmitter rolled from his dead hand
to Seeda’s feet. He picked it up and turned it off. Suddenly, his instruments
sparked back to life.
“He
is here…” Vader said. He turned swiftly to the two Lancers and they snapped to
attention. “Troopers, form ranks behind us and remove this rabble from our
path! Seeda, get me to that chamber. We are not safe here for long.”
Hurry,
Chosen One. It is urgent we speak.
As the troopers herded the miners back up
the tunnel, blaster fire erupted behind them. Seeda jumped with a start.
“Keep
going, Lieutenant.”
The sounds of battle erupted behind them as
they quickened their pace down the tunnel. Vader could feel the walls tremble
as they delved deeper down. The crystals reached out to him, driving him lower
into the mine, drawing him closer to the source of the voices.
Make haste, Chosen One. Your enemy is upon you.
The cavern opened around a sharp bend and
opened into a small chamber. The walls glittered with kyber fragments, drawing
their eyes to the back of the chamber. Before them was a solid wall of opaque
crystal, easily five times the height of a man. They could not see the top or
bottom, and both sides were occluded by the rock walls. There was no way for
certain to determine how big it actually was. On the floor before it, in a
sunken and faded relief carving, was distinctly the Borzûm.
They
are behind you.
“Welcome to Jedha, Darth Vader,” came a raspy voice from the cavern entrance. They all turned to see a large man in well-worn armor, flanked by four heavily armed miners. The Royal Guards took defensive positions in front of Vader and Seeda. Vader suddenly lit the small room red by igniting his lightsaber.
“Saw
Gerrera.”
Saw Gerrera confronts Darth Vader
“This
is indeed a joyous day, my brothers,” Saw said as he took a long pull of oxygen
from a face mask in his armor. “Today, we remove a major piece from the
galactic board. Today will be remembered as the day we buried Darth Vader
beneath the Holy City.”
“And
there is your mistake, rebel. Your arrogance has blinded you and your
sycophants.” He pulled a communicator from his belt. “Moff Raythe, fire when
ready. Vario, Krest, attend me.” A massive explosion shook the cavern, causing
rubble to fall from the ceiling. The guards collapsed back to either side of
Vader, pushing Seeda back against the crystal. Saw and the rebels looked around
in confusion.
“You’ll
kill us all!” Gerrera shouted.
“It
is you who will be buried here, Gerrera. You will never make it out in time.
This cavern will be your tomb!”
“And
yours! My sacrifice will be small to yield the death of the dark lord of the
Sith!” He reached to his belt and armed a thermal detonator, hurling it at them
with all his might.
“As
the Temple Masters used to say, all is as the Force wills it. Guards, touch the
crystal!” They reached back and placed their hands on the smooth surface. Vader
retracted his saber and grabbed Seeda’s arm with an iron grip. When he placed
his other hand between the two guards’, a brilliant flash of light erupted as
the detonator exploded at the same moment he touched the shimmering green
crystal. The world suddenly became brilliant white light and total silence.
When Darth Vader awoke, the red tint of his helmet lenses was gone. He could see and feel brilliant white light all around him. It was warm and inviting. He rose, catching a shocking glimpse of his hands; his pink, fleshy hands. Gone were the mechanical digits he had grown accustom to. They quickly went to his face, and did not feel the cold, hard edges of his fearsome helmet, but of more flesh. His face was uncovered. A brief moment of panic set over him as he took in a deep, unassisted breath with his own lungs, not the iron machines that breathed for him. His clothing was layered black and brown robes. His hands ran up to the top of his head and felt hair.
“What
sorcery is this? Am I dead?”
His voice, for the first time in many
years, was his own rather than the modulated growling of his helmet.
In every direction around him was a wash of opalescent white with no horizon. He was not floating, but he also could not make out what he stood on. He scanned as far as he could see for a point of reference, but could find none. Whatever he was treading on felt solid, so he walked. After a few dozen steps, a feeling washed over him. The Force was pulling at him from multiple directions but he could not detect its meaning. It was very strong here, unlike anything he’d ever felt. He tried to reach through it and sort out the source, to search for others, but none could be found.
credit: Luscafilm
“I
must be dead.”
No,
Chosen One, you are not dead. The same voice from the cavern rolled
through his head. You are safe within the
Vault of the Whills.
He looked around but could not find where
the voice was coming from. He sat cross-legged and closed his eyes, focusing on
the voice.
“Reveal
yourself. Why do you hide?”
We
do not hide from you, Chosen One. We are here if you would only see us.
“Enough games! Show yourself!”
He opened his eyes and before him was an even brighter orb of light, shimmering and turning. “What manner of creature are you?”
We
are not creatures. We are the watchers of all who are strong with the Force in
the universe, both light and dark, and those between. My cousins and I have
been waiting for you, Chosen One. The shimmering ball expanded into a
humanoid female form in a black robe, wearing a broad white mask showing a
blank expression. Her two-toed feet hovered above the surface.
credit: Luscafilm
“Is
it you who spoke to me in the tunnels? What do you want of me? Why do I appear
in this form?”
So
many questions. In this realm, all appear in their true form before the Force.
Here, you appear as the Jedi Knight and General Anakin Skywalker.
“Anakin Skywalker is dead. I am Darth Vader.”
A
lie you perpetuate to yourself. The beast is you, and you are the beast. Try as
you might, you cannot escape the destiny set before you, Chosen One. To fulfill
your destiny, you must know yourself—your true self. That is why you appear in
this form. Your true self is Anakin Skywalker.
“You
speak in lies and riddles.” He reached down to his waist, but the familiar hilt
of his lightsaber was gone. “Why am I here?”
The Watcher’s form glowed brighter, then split into
another visage, though the mask of this one appeared angry. She moved down
within inches of his face and yelled.
Cousin,
this one would strike us down for speaking the truth to him! He is not worthy
to possess what he desires! Expel him immediately!
“You
do not know what I desire, fiend!” He yelled back. “Tell me who you are and why
I am here!”
I
am Serenity, and this is my dear cousin, Anger. We appear to you because we are
the emotional instruments you live by. You are driven by your anger, but you
seek the serenity of love and family. Search your feelings. You know this to be
true. You seek the serenity of a life with the one called Padme Amidala. You
seek to restore her from her place in the cosmic force.
Vader was stunned. This being had reached into his innermost recesses of suppressed thought and extracted what he wanted most; to leave the Empire and the Emperor behind and live out his days in peace with Padme at his side. How could she know this much? He stood up to plead his case.
“If
you know these things then you must know how I can bring her back! You must
tell me! How can I bring her back?!?”
Anger moved up into his face again. Foolish boy! She is now one with the Cosmic
Force. She cannot return! The one known as Sidious has fooled you. He, too,
visited us with the one known as Plagueis asking the same questions. Life.
Death. Immortality. The Cosmic Force is all-powerful! Seeking to control it is
folly!
In his heart, Vader knew she was right. He
could feel anger rising inside him. He didn’t know if he was furious with the visage
of Anger for saying these things, or with himself for being fooled. Within
those same hidden recesses of his mind, he’s known all along Padme could never
be returned to him. A single tear rolled down to his trembling lip. The anger
welling inside him was about to boil over.
“Tell
me how I can bring her back!”
He reached up, extending his hand at Anger
and feeling for her air way. He would choke the answer from behind her
treacherous mask. He felt within her neck piece, searching for her throat, but
found… nothing. Suddenly, her
robe collapsed to the ground and her mask tumbled down within it, coming to
rest in a neat pile and leaving behind her violently flashing orb. Anger let
out a maniacal laugh and shot toward him, smashing into his chest, knocking him
down and stealing the air from his lungs.
credit: Luscafilm
Foolish
boy! You have been deceived! Bringing her back is a fool’s
errand! The orb of Anger disappeared. Serenity
still hovered before him as he regained his footing, coughing and choking to
recover his breath. He then fell to his knees, seeing no other avenue than to
beg for her mercy.
“Please,
I beg of you, please return her to me. Please!”
It is not within our power to interfere with the destiny of others. As is my purpose for being, I am compelled to help those within the Living Force that seek it find serenity, and alas, you are the Chosen One. You are destined to bring balance to the Living Force. I will help you, but be warned, Anakin Skywalker. What you seek—the possessions of the one known as Darth Plagueis—carry a great darkness with them. A darkness that, if uncontrolled, will create a wound in the Force not easily healed. Your actions will have a ripple effect that cannot be stopped. The ancient one known as Nihilus sought this ability, and nearly succeeded, though the results were disastrous. These artifacts became interred in this vault for a reason. Once removed, their darkness will consume you. Do you accept this great and terrible responsibility?
Darth Nihilus
“Yes! Yes, anything… just please show me how to bring her back.” He collapsed in sobs of anguish. The realization of all the evils he had done washed over him in an instant. Killing his fellow Jedi, the Younglings, all the incalculable deaths across the galaxy credited to him came crashing down on his shoulders. “Please… I’ll do anything…”
Very well. And in another brilliant flash of light, the visage of Serenity was gone.
Darth
Vader awoke in the main hall behind the altar of the Temple of the Kyber with
his face pushed into the ground. His right eye could see clearly the dirt and
rubble of the temple floor. In his left eye returned the familiar red hue of
his lenses with a diagnostic readout running. Then the labored, mechanized
breathing apparatus heaved him to life. Pushing himself up from the floor, he
could see his hands were once again machine parts and tattered black gloves.
Around him was a nearly shredded black cloak, covered in burns and rips.
He looked to his left to see stirring both Captain Krest and Vario. Their uniforms were also in tatters as they regained their composure. Seeing Vader’s condition, they rushed to his side to defend while he recovered, but they were both injured as well. Behind them, lying face-down, was Lieutenant Seeda. Vader reached to him through the Force and felt a heartbeat, but he also sensed something else. Walking over, he used the Force to roll over Seeda and beneath him was a small wooden box. In the top was a gold inlay of a Borzûm. He pulled the box to him through the air and opened it. Finally, he held in his hands what he long desired. Finally, there was a chance to save Padme.
A chance for him to once again experience… serenity.
Seeda awoke, groggy and injured as well. He
barely got to his feet when his communicator started blaring that a shuttle was
en route for Lord Vader. He looked over to the opening where they entered the
tunnels. It was filled with rubble and rock. He had no idea how they got out of
there before it collapsed. Vader sensed Seeda’s confusion.
“Do
not ask questions there are no answers to. Saw Gerrera is dead and we have the
Emperor’s prize. You have done well, Captain Seeda,” Vader said through a cracked and damaged
face shield. Seeda tried not to stare, but Vader’s right eye was exposed. He
could clearly see the red and orange striations of his iris surrounded by the
scarred and pale gray skin of his face. He looked down to see the Borzûm
box in Vader’s
hands. With all that was running through his mind, it was difficult to focus on
the fact he just received a battlefield promotion from Darth Vader, himself.
The injured Vader and his party emerged at the top of the Temple steps where the remaining Lancers that were not buried in the tunnels secured a wide area where a shuttle was now landing. “You will return to the Dauntless by ground transport. See to your injuries, then send your mission report directly to my shuttle. These artifacts are precious to the Emperor. I leave at once for Coruscant with our spoils. He commands, and I must obey.”
In a flourish of ragged black robes, Lord Vader turned and limped up as the ramp hissed closed behind him.
Seeda looked on as the shuttle climbed through the atmosphere and disappeared behind the clouds, watching until it was well beyond his sight.
“When I get back, I must remember to tell Commander Junus about this. He’ll be upset he missed attempt number eighty-nine.”
Next time in Star Wars: Lifeboat!
Darth Plageuis. (Image credit unknown)
Captured! The crew aboard the Emperor’s shuttle finds themselves in the clutches of the bounty hunter Gekko. They’ll have to bargain for their freedom if they are to proceed with their mission to find the missing journal of Darth Plagueis and the kidnapped son of Captain Inda Krest!
Go back and check out Lifeboat from the beginning with Part I here!
To learn more about Star Wars, visit the official website at www.starwars.com. May the Fourth, and the Force, be with you!
Disclaimer
The preceding is a work of fan fiction based upon and utilizing locations, characters, and/or plot points from the Star Wars universe, originally created by George Lucas and trademarked to Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author makes no claim whatsoever of ownership of the Star Wars name, characters represented, or the Star Wars universe generally. This work is created of the author’s own imagination and is intended for entertainment purposes only. It does not purport to be an “official” Star Wars story or part of existing Star Wars canon in any way. The author is not profiting financially in any way as the result of the creation or publication of this piece of fan fiction.
In Lifeboat: Part III’s flashback, then-Lieutenant Varon Seeda delivers a message to Darth Vader on Mustafar that begins a chain reaction of treason! They board a shuttle bound for Jedha to recover artifacts important to the Emperor, but will Vader discover the truth of them first and claim them for himself?
Get caught up on the Lifeboat: A Star Wars Fan Fiction series!
Now, in Part IV, we rejoin the surviving Imperials aboard the Emperor’s shuttle as they hurtle towards a destiny they cannot fathom, held at the deadly knife point of Captain Inda Krest! What secret is she keeping from them? Meanwhile, Lieutenant Meera Dyre is discovering she has hidden abilities she does not understand, but someone else aboard knows exactly what is happening to her. And the injured Captain Vario awakes with a shocking accusation…
Aboard Emperor Palpatine’s Shuttle, Great Gran Run Hyperspace Lane, Tashtor Sector – 4 ABY…
Meera always imagined the Emperor traveling in more spacious accommodations instead of this. It was bigger than a standard Lambda-Class with a small state room behind the cockpit and a lower-level cargo hold. Still, twelve people aboard made it stuffy. She excused herself to check on the injured guard, but she really sought to escape the others. The cargo hold was the quietest place on the small shuttle. The only person who came down here besides her was the Maintenance Technician, that she learned is named Tana Vel.
She struggled with her lack of concern over the gruesome murder of Sim Aloo. Whatever else he may have been, he was still an Imperial citizen. Meera took an oath to save Imperial lives when she became a Medical Assistant First Class, yet she watched one be gutted before her eyes and felt nothing as he bled out on the floor. Why? She sat on top of a cold steel crate between the lifeless body of Sim Aloo and the injured Royal Guard’s med capsule pondering her lack of compunction, when she heard footsteps coming down the metal ladder.
“The pilot’s last update said we’re about three parsecs from Volusia,” came the voice of Technician Vel. “Krest wants everyone upstairs for a briefing. She’s ready to tell us what we’re going there for.”
“Tana, how do you feel about Counselor Aloo’s death?” Meera asked as she looked over the covered body of the wiry, sallow-eyed Imperial accused of treason by Krest. “Doesn’t it bother you?”
“No, not really,” came Vel’s flippant reply. “I mean, it wasn’t comfortable to watch, but if he was a traitor, he deserved it. Is that why you keep coming down here? Does his death upset you?”
“No, and that’s the problem. I should feel something given my training, but I don’t. I was glad to see him die. If he truly did what Krest says—If Aloo was responsible for causing all this—he should have been left to burn on the Death Star.”
“Look, Meera, we’re all numb and hurting. Even Krest, though she doesn’t show it. And then you tell us Lord Vader is a traitor. The whole thing is difficult to wrap your mind around. Once we get back to the core, we’ll have time to decompress. The Empire will take care of us. They always provide.”
“The… Empire… is run… by fools.”
The unexpected voice from the injured guard startled them both. Vel jumped and let out an audible squeak. Meera rushed to the side of the med capsule and pushed a flurry of buttons.
“Try not to move if you can help it,” she told him. “Your wounds are stable but if you move too much, they’ll tear open again. You’re going to need surgery.” Then, turning to Vel, “Go get Krest. She’ll want to know he’s awake.”
“No! There is no… time. You… must listen… to me,” he sputtered in a weak and dying voice. He reached up and grabbed Meera’s arm, pulling her closer to him. He was surprisingly strong for someone with his injuries. “Krest… is…,” he struggled and gasped. “She will… kill…” He trailed off as the sedatives kicked in. He wasn’t unconscious, but the painkillers took hold. His iron grip released her arm, yet Meera stayed close in case he said anything else.
There was a warning in his voice.
Suddenly, Meera could sense his breathing. Not hear it or see it, but feel it. She squinted her eyes to wish it away, but the sound in her head persisted as if she had her head closed in the engine compartment. Then she could sense the thrum of his heartbeat pounding in her ears. Then something happened she could never have prepared herself for. A vision entered her mind. It was so clear she felt as if she were there seeing it with her own eyes. She could clearly see the wounded guard, though not in his menacing red uniform. He wore flowing brown robes, neatly pressed into layers across his chest. He stood next to Krest. She looked different, but it was definitely her. Her hair was long and dark, and her eyes… they were the brightest blue.
And then she saw what they had. Shocked, she saw…
“Dyre, wake up!” Meera was roused back awake from Vel shaking her. She was still crouched over the med capsule with her hand on his forehead. She stumbled back into the crate she sat on in a daze. “Lieutenant Dyre? Are you alright?” Vel knelt over her with a worried expression. ” Can you hear me? Dyre, can you hear me?” She grasped Vel’s arm to steady herself from the fog clouding her mind and got to her feet.
“I’m fine, Vel… I’m fine.” The room spun as she tried to make sense of what she saw. “Vel, did you hear that?” she asked.
“Hear what?”
“How could you not hear that?” Meera asked incredulously. “It was so loud. Is it here? Where did they hide it?”
“You’re not making sense, Dyre. Hide what? What was so loud?”
“The baby! You didn’t…” Her sentence ended abruptly when she looked up and saw Captain Krest scowling at them from the top of the cargo ramp.
“Lieutenant Dyre, not another word. I will speak with you in private. Report to the cockpit stateroom at once.” She turned in a flourish of red robes and disappeared through the door. Vel waited until the door shut completely behind Krest before asking the obvious question.
“What is happening here?”
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.” Meera climbed the ladder to the ramp. She turned back at the top and looked down at the anxious maintenance technician. “Vel, something isn’t right here. If I end up like Aloo, tell the others what you saw.” She climbed the rest of the way and went into the main compartment.
The Death Star II in orbit over the forest moon of Endor, Outer Rim, Moddell sector – 4ABY
When the first explosion tore through the superstructure, the light panels above dislodged and collapsed down in a deadly pile of mangled steel over the surgical bay. A panel swung down with a hard smack to the side of her head, throwing Meera down like a rag doll across the cold, hard floor. A stinging gash opened across her cheek. She could feel the warm blood pooling on her face. The sharp blow made her world spin in lopsided circles. She fought the urge to pass out. Losing consciousness now would mean certain death. Meera had to get up. She had to move.
The operating room had collapsed around her in a tangle of twisted metal and sparking wires. Her patient, an injured Scout Trooper just brought up from the surface, lay crushed under a fallen structural beam. She grabbed his wrist looking for a pulse, but no doubt he was dead. Doctor Zed’orda was in mid-incision to close a torn artery when the ceiling fell in on them. No surgery could save him now. A blaring klaxon from overhead screamed at her through the carnage. Her ears rang in cadence with the piercing alarm blasts while a calming female voice reminded her she was about to die.
Warning… Abandon ship. Proceed orderly to your assigned escape pod. Warning… Abandon ship…
She spun around in a fog, knowing she was in danger but too dazed to react to it. She called out for the doctor but did not see him anywhere. Their medical droid lay in shattered pieces across the floor; its automated torso sparking and twitching in electronic agony as servo fluid poured out into the rubble. A loud metallic scrape drew her to look at the panel that hit her hanging by a thread, swaying above her with a broken rhythm. Behind it, across the room, she saw movement. A durasteel pipe lay across Zed’orda’s upper body, pinning him to the floor and stealing the air from his lungs. The injured doctor strained against its bulk but the conduit would not move. He yelled at her in a strained and airless rasp. She could see his mouth moving but could not hear his words.
“Meera, go! I can’t… get… out. You have to… you have to… go! Get… to… your pod!” She began pulling pieces aside in a staggered frenzy to get to him. Small shards of broken metal and glass chewed at her fingers as she clawed her way through the burning wreckage. All the while, the same calm voice from overhead reminded her of their deteriorating situation.
Warning… Abandon ship. Proceed orderly to your assigned escape pod.Warning… Abandon ship…
The next explosion shook the structure so hard, the station began to list. The artificial gravity was failing and soon they would lose orbital stability. The station was falling apart around them. All she could see was more rubble while smoke and dust filled her lungs. Sheared steel and electronic detritus collapsed in the med bay in a new shower of sparks and fire. The doctor was underneath most of the carnage. Through the dust, she could make out his gloved hand sticking out of the debris. It hung bloody and lifeless.
She could feel it. He was dead, too.
A purpose suddenly flooded through her. The second Death Star was collapsing around Lieutenant Meera Dyre of the 804th Imperial Medical Brigade, and if she didn’t find a way out, she would die where she stood. A large med-pack lay at her feet in the rubble. She pulled out a Bacta syringe and jammed it into her neck. The throbbing in her head immediately subsided enough to focus. She grabbed up the med-pack and slung the strap on her shoulder and scanned the room for a way out. She climbed over a busted control panel, through the med bay window, and into the hallway. Meanwhile, the friendly overhead voice continually reminded her of impending doom between deafening alarm blasts.
Warning… Abandon ship. Proceed orderly to your assigned escape pod. Warning… Abandon ship…
The smoke was thick. Meera struggled to get her bearings in the hallway and was startled by the sudden appearance of a Storm Trooper barreling down on her. He emerged from the smoke and showers of sparks like an armored ghost, wearing battle-worn white plastoid streaked with blood. In the middle of his chest armor was a perfect hand print, pressed in the red of some other poor soul’s demise. He ran towards her in a panic.
“Move! MOVE!” came the digitized and muffled voice from behind his helmet. “You can’t go that way! There’s nothing left back there. Follow me… this way!” He grabbed her arm, spinning her in the opposite direction. Pain shot through it like a bolt of lightning.
“Aaaagh!”, she cried out and looked down to see her bloody uniform shirt sleeve. The trooper had grabbed a gash on her arm that she hadn’t even noticed, nor did she feel the pain of until he grabbed her. She recoiled from him. “My escape pod is back the way you came. What’s happening out there?”
He didn’t answer. The Trooper looked back at her for a moment, then continued to run on without her. She lost sight of him after a few steps into the thickening smoke. The gash on her arm seared with pain.
Warning… Abandon ship. Proceed orderly…
“Can’t worry about that now, Meera,” she said to herself. She tightened up the strap of the med-pack and continued in the same direction the Storm Trooper had run.
Her mind raced to figure out what was happening. Reports of a rebel fleet emerging from hyperspace to attack them came over the comms, but Doctor Zed’orda just laughed. “They wouldn’t dare attack us here. Our defenses would annihilate them in an instant. Someone is having a joke.” Obviously, he was wrong and was now dead because of it. Perhaps the rebels have already boarded the station and were sabotaging it with explosives. She picked up an abandoned E-11 from a dead Storm Trooper in the hall, just in case. Injured or not, she would not go down without a fight. At the next T-junction, she could just make out directional signage through the smoke. To the left was the mess hall and barracks. To the right were the armory and hanger bay 272. A hangar bay! Surely there would be pods there or even a ship. She turned to the right and ran.
The wide hall was littered with metal and debris from the destruction happening around her. Sparks flew from the overhead conduit and electrical panels in the walls. Fires burned up through the floor. The burned and broken bodies of fallen Imperials were strewn about everywhere. She stopped to check vitals on the ones she could get to, hoping to save someone, or at least find someone alive, but it was useless. All life signs were negative. The explosion that collapsed the med bay must have been worse in this section, taking out anyone caught in the hallway with it.
Abandon ship. Proceed to your assigned escape pod…
“I’m going to find the communication officer that recorded that message and strangle her,” Meera muttered as two more successive explosions ripped through the hallway. One came from back at the junction she just passed through and the other ahead in the direction she was going. The blast knocked her into the wall and sprawling on the floor, taking her breath away. Her lungs burned as her body struggled to find air. Staggered and gasping from the impact, she willed her battered body upright and continued ahead.
The explosions subsided for a while as she moved toward the hangar. The air hung heavy with smoke, clouding anything more than a few feet in front of her. She took quick but measured steps to avoid injuring herself any further. Another blast like the last one would likely be her end. After what seemed an eternity, she finally saw the faint blue glow of a directional kiosk that would tell her how much further to the hangar, or if she was even still going the right way. Her pace quickened, and as soon as she got up some speed, her foot caught on something heavy. She sprawled across the floor yet again. Her arm burned like fire where she fell on top of it. Looking back, she saw what she tripped on.
She recognized the bloody hand print on his chest. The Storm Trooper she met in the hall earlier lay in a heap under some rubble. That last blast must have gotten him. His arm protruded out at an awkward angle where she caught her foot. She crawled over to him and pulled his helmet off, hoping he would still be alive. His blank and lifeless eyes stared straight up into nothingness. She checked his pulse at his neck and found none. The trooper was gone. Though scarred, his face looked so young; too young to die like this. She ran her hand over his eyes, closing them for the final time. “We didn’t deserve this, did we?” she asked the dead man. “What is galactic peace and security really worth if this is the thanks we get for it?” The overhead klaxon rudely answered, reminding her she was still in danger.
Warning… Abandon ship. Proceed to your assigned escape pod…Warning…
“You were too late this time, Meera,” she said aloud to herself. “Now get up before the same thing happens to you. Move!”
On her feet again, she went more carefully forward this time until she could make out the shape of the large blast doors at the end of the hall. Above it was a sign reading Hangar Bay 272. She broke into a run, slamming into the door release panel. The blast doors hesitated, then slowly crawled open. Meera could hear more explosions back the way she came. A cloud of black smoke came rolling down the hall towards the door, blotting out the light behind. She went to the narrow opening of the doors, forcing her way through the slit and into the hangar bay. Black smoke and heat erupted through behind her like a Krayt Dragon was chasing her down. What she now saw was worse.
Fire and chaos reigned. The huge room was swarming with panicked Imperials running in every direction trying to escape. Some officers tried to maintain order and organize scurrying troops, but it was no use. The sound of the battle raged outside the shielded bay opening. Ships of all sizes and types were taking off. At least I’m not the only one left, she thought. Then she saw it. A TIE Fighter sat at the back of the hangar, still attached to a refueling tank in a mechanic’s bay. No one was around or seemed to notice it. That’s my ticket out of here, she thought.
Warning… Abandon ship...
She didn’t know how to fly it, but if she was going to survive, it was the only option. She ran toward it as fast as she could, only to see movement in the cockpit. Damn the luck… someone was already in it! The ion engines fired and the machine lurched forward, snapping off the fuel line. Roaring flame shot from the hose where the fuel ignited, spewing fire across the bay like the Krayt Dragon had found her again. The TIE shot forward and roared out of the hangar at high speed. She stood in shock and anger, watching it soar off just as an rebel X-Wing fighter crossed its path from above, firing all four cannons at once and destroying it instantly.
She looked around again. There had to be something else. Near the front by where the TIE flew out was a small shuttle. It was over a hundred yards from where she stood. Flaming debris rained down above it, but the ship appeared intact. Even if it was damaged, anything was better than nothing. She ran toward it as another explosion shot debris through the air in front of her, the searing heat pushing her back.
She lay there a moment, trying to recover her wits when the hangar door across from her slid open. A man ran in with his eye on the same shuttle, but he was not Imperial. His uniform was all black yet had no insignia. A prisoner, maybe? The holding cells were one deck below the hangar. If the security locks failed, the scoundrels imprisoned there would be looking for a way out, too. Suddenly, he looked right at her and saw she eyeing the shuttle as well. She could not make out his face, but it didn’t matter who he was. Whoever got up the cargo ramp first was getting that shuttle, and he was closer to it than her. It was now or never.
Meera got to her feet and sprinted across the floor like a scalded Dewback. The race was on.
He sprinted to the shuttle, too, and opened the hatch. The ramp lowered down and Meera ran harder to her maximum speed. Then he did something completely unexpected. He went back to the hangar door and started dragging a wounded soldier through it towards the ramp. He was struggling with the bulk. This was her chance! If she could get there before him, her escape was guaranteed. If not, she could barter medical assistance for the wounded man as her ticket, but, either way, she was getting on that shuttle. She was gaining ground and surmised they would now get to the ramp at the same time. Whoever he was, it seemed they would be sharing the ride after all. Suddenly, Meera skidded to a stop and her feet slipped out from under her on the polished bay floor, sending her sliding onto her backside. Her eyes widened as terror took over when she recognized him.
It was the Jedi prisoner, Skywalker! She also recognized the wounded man he was struggling with. It was Lord Vader!
The prospect of being cut down by the Jedi was more terrifying than the Death Star exploding around her. He beckoned to her and began to say something, but Meera couldn’t hear him. She was already up and running the other direction to get away. If this Jedi could defeat Lord Vader, she would make easy prey; even with her Imperial combat training. Ducking into a nearby stack of cargo containers, she hid and watched.
The Jedi dragged him to the ramp and stopped. They were speaking, but she could not hear what was said through the deafening sound of firing turbo lasers. The chaotic scene she had walked into suddenly became calm. Vader was seriously injured; that was easy enough to tell, but somehow, she could also feel it. She could feel the burning sensation of electricity coursing through him. She could sense his mechanical parts trying desperately to keep him alive, injecting bacta and interfacing with his nervous system. The Jedi took off his helmet.
Vader was in great pain; more than any human could endure. Yet there he lay, as calm and serene as one could be. She sensed a peace wash over him; a finality. No, not finality—relief. His spirit was ebbing and he was not fighting it. His final fate was welcomed. He was speaking to the Jedi. She could not hear the words, but she knew what he said all the same.
“You were right about me. Tell your sister…you were right.” She did not know what he meant by that, but she felt his last breath ease out as he lay in the arms of the murderous Jedi. Meera crossed paths only once with Lord Vader in her short time on the Death Star, and he was nothing like the vicious rumors whispered in the trooper ranks. Darth Vader was her commander. He cared about the Empire. He cared for his soldiers. Her division marched side-by-side with his vaunted 501st Legion. Vader’s Fist, they were called. She patched up many of those brave troopers on his peace-keeping missions against this evil rebellion. The Empire must know who struck down their beloved leader, so he could be brought to justice. Someone must report what happened here. For Lord Vader’s sake, Meera had to survive. A tear rolled down her soot-covered cheek in reverence for the Sith Lord. Like so many other Imperials this day, Darth Vader was dead.
Skywalker dragged Vader’s limp body up the ramp and closed it for take off. Why was he taking the body? Probably some fiendish bounty or personal glory, the Jedi bastard! Then, with a blast of ion fusion, the engines launched the shuttle out into space. They were gone.
Suddenly, another explosion shot fire across the hangar. The Death Star was failing.
If she was to report anything to anyone, she had to get off this dying battle station. She looked around again to see no ships remained. Her only hope now was to find a pod. Across the far side of the hanger, a white arrow streaked across the floor etched with the words ‘emergency exit.’ Meera could not see where it led through all the smoke, but at this point, it made no difference.
Hoping to find something that could fly; anything at all, she just ran. She leaped over burning crates and supply canisters as she moved across the fire-streaked landscape of Hangar 272. Finally, she could see the outer wall. The escape pods—if any were left—would be here. With the loading chute to her right and the cold vacuum of space on her left, she turned to run toward the chute when she heard a woman’s voice call out behind her.
“You! Medical officer! Come quickly… I need you!”
She turned and was shocked to see the bright red uniform of the Emperor’s Elite Royal Guard. Meera had only ever seen them from a distance, and never heard one speak. Across her shoulders was the arm of another helmeted Royal Guard, head hanging and slouched. He was unconscious and wounded.
“Take me to the nearest medical capsule, now!” she ordered. Meera ran to assist by going under the injured guard’s other arm. She pointed toward the back wall.
“This way. All hangars have a crash locker in case of accidents, though that won’t matter if we don’t get to an escape pod now!” Meera struggled under the weight of the much larger guard. She could not see a wound, but her tunic was smeared with blood where she held him up. He was bleeding profusely from somewhere.
“We don’t need an escape pod. Focus, girl—get me to that med locker!”
Together they dragged the wounded guard to the back wall where Meera punched in her identification code on a flashing panel. The door hissed open, and she snatched a green control pad from the wall. The repulsor lift underneath the medical capsule sparked to life and hovered to her side. She grabbed another med-pack from the wall and headed back out. They lowered him inside and she jabbed two vials of bacta into his shoulder. The triage program hummed to life, and the report came back dismal. Meera shook her head. “He’s bleeding bad. I can stabilize him for now, but like I said, it won’t matter unless we can all get out of here!”
“Do your job, medic,” the woman said, “and there will be a place for you on our shuttle. Save him, or perish. The choice is yours.”
Her hands shook as she punched in more codes. The female guard stood silently over the med capsule watching her every move. The explosions in the hangar subsided for the moment, but the station was breaking apart. Shudders vibrated through every strut and pillar. Suddenly, a feeling swept over Meera that she could not ignore.
“His wounds are serious. He’s going to need surgery, but we don’t have that kind of time. Something tells me the station only has minutes left…”
“I sense it as well. The rebels have reached the station’s power core. The central cooling towers are ruptured.” Meera was taken back a moment by her matter-of-fact tone and lack of questions about her feeling. “Quickly, this way.”
The guard took off double-time toward the far wall, where a blast door clearly marked No Admittance stood closed. She manipulated the keypad, placing her hand over the bio-scanner and opening the door. There, in the center of this hidden hangar, stood the massive folded wings and tail fin of an executive-model Lambda Class 4-a shuttle. They both ran to it, with the hovering med capsule matching pace alongside. The isolated hangar was serene, as if the fury of the battle going outside passed it by.
The guard yelled, sensing what Meera was thinking. “This hangar is ray shielded, but that won’t last when the Death Star destabilizes.” At that moment, the shuttle’s engines started up in preparation for take-off.
“They can’t leave without the Emperor’s code cylinder, and I have it.”
“Wait, this is the Emperor’s shuttle?!?”
“He won’t be needing it any longer. The Emperor is dead. Now shut up and move faster!”
Meera’s step stuttered, but she kept going. The news sent her mind reeling with shock. The Emperor is dead? Impossible—the Emperor is the Empire! How could this happen? Without him, everything would fail! The galaxy would fall to chaos! How could the rebels have succeeded in killing him? Was he not well-protected? Suddenly, a realization struck her.
The Jedi. He must be responsible for this.
Meera felt grateful simply to be alive after her encounter with him. He is powerful, indeed if he bested Lord Vader and the Emperor. Skywalker would be the most wanted man in the history of the galaxy when the Senate found out about this assassination. No star system could hide him from the wrath of the Empire. Then another realization came. These guards must have fought him and failed, too. That meant the wounds she would be treating were from a lightsaber. The guard would be lucky to survive the trauma, as the two most powerful beings in the Empire did not.
“The Jedi didn’t kill the Emperor. Lord Vader did. Now stop thinking and run!” the guard commanded. How did she know what Meera was thinking?
They reached the bottom of the shuttle ramp, where two red-armored Storm Troopers stood guard. The Royal Guard ran between them. When Meera touched the ramp, the troopers leveled their blasters directly at her head. She froze mid-step and the med capsule mimicked her movement, coming to a halt.
“She’s with me. Let her board,” the guard called back down to the troopers. “She tends to Captain Vario.”
“No one boards without a dignitary code cylinder or permission from the Emperor, himself,” the trooper snapped back.
“The Emperor is dead, fools! We will be too if this shuttle doesn’t take off. Let her board—now!”
As if timed with her warning, a massive explosion rocked the hangar. The ray shield began to falter, and the hangar shook violently. With some trepidation, the troopers relented and pulled back their E-11’s, allowing Meera to pass. They followed her up the ramp, closing it behind them as another explosion shook the ship. Smoke poured in as the ramp raised up and sealed for take off. The engines engaged and the shuttle launched in a streak of light from the collapsing hangar bay. Meera ran back to the cargo door and looked through the narrow viewing glass just in time to see the beginning of the end of the Galactic Empire.
Mushroomed clouds of fire erupted out of every visible surface on the doomed battle station. Then, in a brilliant burst of light, the moon-sized planet killer detonated into a fireball that rivaled a type-2 supernova. After all she had been through, Meera would survive after all. However, the Death Star—and the Empire with it—were no more.
Lifeboat: Part II coming soon! Stay tuned to find out what happens next!
Disclaimer
The preceding is a work of fan fiction based upon and utilizing locations, characters, and/or plot points from the Star Wars universe, originally created by George Lucas and trademarked to Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author makes no claim whatsoever of ownership of the Star Wars name, characters represented, or the Star Wars universe generally. This work is created of the author’s own imagination and is intended for entertainment purposes only. It does not purport to be an “official” Star Wars story or part of existing Star Wars canon in any way. The author is not profiting financially in any way as the result of the creation or publication of this piece of fan fiction.