Shadows of the Empire (16 page)

Vader saw a third ship round the asteroid, much faster than the frigates. He identified it as the officer spoke: “Here comes a Corellian corvette.”

Inside his mask, Vader smiled.
Good
. Better a fight than a slaughter of crippled, roosting birds. He turned to the operations officer. “Have my Interceptor readied.”

The admiral glanced at the TIE OpOff, then at Vader. “My lord, do you think that is—?”

“—wise?” Vader finished. “It has been too long since I flew in combat, Admiral. I need to flex those muscles. You can handle the shipyard. I will clear the vacuum of the fighters.”

The admiral inclined his head in a military bow.

As if the admiral could do anything else.

V
ader had forgotten how much he enjoyed piloting his Interceptor, it had been so long. It came back quickly.

The enjoyment did not last. Almost effortlessly, he blew three, four, five of the Rebel ships into smoking pieces.

It was … disappointing. The Force was not strong in any of them; it was no real challenge. Some were skilled, true, but mere skill could not defeat the dark side. He had hoped for better competition.

Any
competition.

An X-wing in a hard power climb tried to attack him from below, but he looped away and came around fast, punched it with his lasers, turned it into scrap.

He was aware of the destroyers firing at the frigates, disabling one and holding the other at bay. A frigate was no match for the pride of the Imperial Navy.

As he chased another X-wing into oblivion, he felt the disturbance in the Force as the fleet pounded the Rebel shipyard apart, pouring destruction upon the helpless grounded ships, pilots, and troops. Multicolored streams of light burned all they touched.

Another X-wing darted and twisted and turned, tried to avoid his fire. The Rebel pilot was good, but he had no chance of escaping.

Vader let the dark side guide his aim. Felt his weapons lock on …

Held his fire.

Disgusted, he broke off his attack and allowed the X-wing to escape. This was beneath him. Since he had fought Luke on the balcony of the city in the clouds, no other opponent had been any real competition. Well. Perhaps the criminal Xizor offered something, but that was different, that was not a warrior’s challenge. Xizor was merely duplicitous and devious; he would never dare stand eye-to-eye with the Dark Lord of the Sith.

Vader watched the X-wing scurry away. The battle was over, such as it was. The Rebel shipyard burned, its own air and fuel feeding the conflagration. Hundreds of ships gone, thousands of troops wiped away, a great victory for the Empire.

Vader shook his head. A great victory. Once that would have been something to make him proud. Now? Now it was as hollow as smashing these weak X-wing pilots.

A warrior needed to contend with equals. Obi-Wan was gone, and the other Jedi were all extinct, save one, who was the strongest of them all. His own son.

He had told the Emperor that Luke Skywalker would join them or die. The real truth was only slightly different: Luke would join Darth Vader or die.

It would be something to look forward to.

That would be the duel of a lifetime. This wasn’t even exercise.

He headed his fighter back to the ship.

V
ader stepped onto the holocam field and initiated the transmission. The holonet made its shortcut through hyperspace and achieved its considerably faster-than-light connections. The air shivered and shimmered as the Emperor appeared from nothingness.

Vader lowered himself to one knee. “My master,” he said.

“Ah, Lord Vader. Your report?”

“The Rebel shipyard is no more. They put up a
fight, but it was of brief duration. We destroyed hundreds of vessels and thousands of the enemy within them.”

“Good, good.” The Emperor waved his hand, and his image became smaller as the holocam on his end adjusted to a wider angle.

The new angle revealed Xizor standing a couple of meters away.

Vader’s involuntary reaction overrode his mechanical breather. He realized the Emperor would be able to hear his breathing. He forced himself to allow the breather to resume its normal function.

“Prince Xizor was just telling me how happy he was to provide the Empire with the location of the Rebel base. It seems we owe him much gratitude, don’t you think?”

Vader gritted his teeth. He would rather bite off his own tongue and swallow it than offer such gratitude, especially in front of the Emperor, but he had no choice. The Emperor did like to crack the whip now and again, to show that he still held it and was not averse to using it.

Vader looked at Xizor. It was good that they could not see his face when he spoke. “The Empire owes you thanks, Prince Xizor.”

The Emperor smiled.

Xizor smiled even more widely. Said, “Oh, think nothing of it, Lord Vader. I am always happy to serve.”

Had the man been any more self-effacing and servile in his tone he would have had to look up from licking the Emperor’s boots. It was good that he was light-years away; Vader’s anger was such that he wasn’t sure he could have stopped himself from destroying Xizor had he been within reach, despite the Emperor’s admonitions.

“I expect to see you soon, Lord Vader.”

“Yes, my master. We are returning even as we speak.”

“Good.”

The image swirled and faded.

Vader stood. Turned to leave the holo chamber.

A junior officer approached him as he exited. “Lord Vader, I—”

That was as far as he got. Vader clenched his fist and called upon the dark side.

The officer fell, clutching his throat.

“I do not wish to be disturbed,” he said to the man lying on the deck. “Is that clear?”

Vader opened his fist.

The officer inhaled noisily. When he could manage it, he said, “C-C-Clear, L-Lord Vader!”

With that, the Dark Lord of the Sith stormed away to his own chamber to brood.

X
izor felt the glory of his triumph over Vader almost as a tangible thing, a shower of pleasure that rinsed him and filled him with a warm glow.

“You must come and visit me more often,” the Emperor said. “I do enjoy our conversations. I’m sure Lord Vader would also enjoy seeing you when he returns.”

Xizor bowed. Most unlikely that Vader would enjoy that. “My master.”

He left, and the feeling of power was unabated. The Emperor was, of course, aware of what Xizor had just done to Vader; indeed, he had enjoyed being a part of the process, of pitting his two servants against each other and watching to see how the play would go. He was like a man who owned a pack of semitame wolf cats. He enjoyed throwing a single bone into the pack to see which would outfight the others to claim it. He was as devious as any man, the Emperor was, and Xizor resolved to take extreme care during the remainder of this endeavor.

Extreme care.

X
izor leaned back in his form-chair and looked at the small holoproj floating on his desk. “Magnify image,” he said. “Full scale.”

The computer obeyed, and the simulacrum increased sixfold.

Standing on his desk now was a strikingly beautiful woman, unaware that her picture had been captured by a hidden holocam.

“Move image to floor holoplate.”

Again the computer did as it was ordered.

Xizor nodded. “So this is Princess Leia Organa. My. How interesting.”

He knew who she was, of course, though he had never bothered to scan her image closely before. He’d always assumed that she was some hardened battle-ax of a woman, all for the Cause, one of those androgynous and ugly zealots who couldn’t be bothered with worrying about her appearance. A mistaken assumption, that.

Behind him, Guri said, “She approached the owner of one of our protected casinos on Rodia, in the gaming complex. Looking to set up a meeting with somebody of stature in Black Sun.”

The Dark Prince steepled his fingers and regarded the image. “Now, why would one of the leaders of the Alliance be interested in our organization? They have repeatedly rebuffed our overtures, not wishing to sully their clean revolutionary hands with common criminal dirt. A change of heart? I wouldn’t think so.”

Having been asked nothing, Guri did not reply.

Xizor continued. “It must be important. Let’s see what she wants, shall we? Go and find out.”

Again Guri refrained from speaking, but Xizor detected something unsettled in her manner. “A problem?”

“The task does not seem particularly challenging.”

Xizor laughed. One of her few foibles, that, wishing to be pushed to find her limits. “Perhaps not. Still, it is important for another reason. If our intelligence and that of the Empire are both correct, Princess Organa is close to only a few people. One of them is Luke Skywalker. It is a strong possibility that she knows where he is. Find out what she wants and report back to me. She may well be the easiest way to find Skywalker. In any event, I may find a … use for her. After you take care of that other business we discussed. That should be more … challenging, I believe.”

“As you wish.”

Xizor touched his finger to his forehead and sketched a mock salute.

Guri left.

He returned his gaze to the counterfeit of Leia Organa. “Computer, rotate image, normal speed.”

The hologram turned on an invisible axis.

She looked just as good from behind.

Xizor took a deep breath and let it out. Here was an interesting woman. Attractive, adept, well educated,
and dangerous. She was, according to the files, as good with a blaster as she was beautiful.

The Dark Prince felt a stirring inside him. He was aware of his skin color shifting, going from the cool green to a warmer pale orange. He smiled. He had dismissed his most recent mistress. The idea of female company was not repellent. Especially a female who had more to offer than mere good looks. He wondered what she might be doing just now. Probably eating a fine meal or spending money on expensive entertainment. Females did love such things.

L
eia watched as Chewie played another hologame, this one against a Twi’lek with a gaudy dye job and cheap jewelry on his tentacled head.

Chewie made a move and leaned back.

“Very good, Chewbacca,” Threepio said. “Excellent move.”

The Twi’lek glanced at Threepio and gave him a rather sick, toothy grin.

Leia leaned over to the protocol droid and whispered to him, “What’s going on here? I saw this Twi’lek win four in a row against other players who were a lot better than Chewie is.”

Threepio looked at her. “Ah, well,” he said,
sotto voce
, “I took the liberty of mentioning to the Twi’lek before the game what happens when Wookiees lose such entertainments.”

Leia looked blankly at him.

“You recall what Master Solo said about pulling arms off?”

Leia shook her head. Han had been teasing Threepio with that comment. Chewie was fierce enough in battle but actually very even-tempered. She hadn’t ever believed that arm business. Though it appeared the Twi’lek did.

If Black Sun didn’t show up pretty soon, she was
going to develop a bad case of ship fever cooped up in this place.

G
uri sat across the table from three others. Two of them were men; one was a Quarren. Behind her, a pair of Gamorrean bodyguards stood watching. Guri was unarmed.

“Your sources are mistaken,” one of the men said. That was Tuyay, the chief operating officer of Ororo Transportation. A fitness buff, he bulged with muscle even under his expensive tailored zeyd-cloth suit. Supposedly, he could squat holding four times his own weight on his shoulders without breaking a major sweat. He did not look happy. In fact, he looked as if he was about to burst a blood vessel.

“Are they?” Guri said. She slouched in the chair, looked totally relaxed.

“M. Tuyay is correct. Ororo would not presume to contend with Black Sun.” That from Dellis Yuls, the Squid Head and chief of security for the organization.

The other player, a thin, short, and nervous man, nodded his assent. “No, of course not, we would never tread in Prince Xizor’s territory.” This was Z. Limmer, the chief financial officer.

“So,” Guri said, “I should tell Prince Xizor that this was all a mistake—that our agents are idiots who couldn’t find their backsides with both hands?”

“I would not put it precisely so,” the Quarren said.

Tuyay looked at the other two sitting next to him and snorted. “Sack this scat! I’m done playing doormat to your boss. Yes, tell him that your agents are idiots! Tell him that
he
is an idiot! Ororo isn’t quaking in fear of the terrible and mighty Dark Prince! We’re out on the Rim here, a long way from a soft bed and the decadent pleasures of the Imperial Center, where Xizor feathers his nest with our tribute. We earn our way here; we deserve every decicred we collect! Tell him if
he doesn’t like it, he can come out here and
do
something about it.”

Limmer swallowed and went pale. “I—I—I think perhaps what M. Tuyay m-m-means to say is—”

“Shut up, Limmer, you little revo-worm! Don’t try to sweeten it.” Tuyay glared at Guri. “Go home, little girl. Leave now while I still permit it. And don’t come back. You do, and I might find a use for you you wouldn’t like.” He grinned, and it was a wicked expression.

Guri smiled and stood, still looking as if she’d just awakened from a long nap.

When she moved, it was incredibly fast. She hopped up onto the table, threw a front somersault and landed behind Tuyay, spun, and picked him up, chair and all. Then she threw him at the two Gamorrean guards before either could clear his blaster. The impact knocked both of the piglike aliens flat.

Dellis Yuls pulled a small blaster from inside his tunic, but before he could line up, Guri grabbed his wrist, broke it, and removed the weapon from his hand. She tossed it aside, grinning.

Limmer tried to stand, and she speared his throat with her fingertips, paused long enough to twist Yuls’s neck until it cracked like a wet branch breaking, then leaped over the table.

Tuyay came to his feet and turned. Guri grabbed him around the throat as he did the same to her. For a moment they stood there locked in stasis.