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Title: "Shadow & Light" by Quiller
Rating: PG-13, some graphic description
Disclaimer: I am only dipping my pen in George's inkwell. No credits, Republic or otherwise, have been exchanged.
Description: Obi-Wan and Anakin are on a collision course. Only one will walk away.
A dark juggernaut was bearing down on him, bent on his destruction, as surely as a Black Hole swallows everything in its path. He could feel it. Obi-Wan paced in a tight circle. It was time to go. Tap code had revealed that Rusk was in the adjoining cell. Now all they needed was a plan -- before the darkness rolled over them.
Wiping a swath of moisture from his forehead, Obi-Wan halted and dropped into a position of rest and readiness, balanced on toes and knees. He closed his eyes and reached inward to his center. The Force caressed his nerves and calmed his thoughts. Let the future worry about itself; it was enough to focus on this moment. He blew out a long breath, entered the flow of the Force, and expanded his sphere of knowing. The Force saturated his being as he sensed life pulsing all around him. Patterns of movement and concentrations of life-forces mapped the layout of the Star Destroyer.
Obi-Wan stretched his senses beyond the ship. Something tingled at the edges of his awareness and a familiar sensation floated in his mind. Yoda. The rebels hadn't fled the system. Not all of them. Knowing how much Yoda risked by lowering his shields to allow for any detection at all, filled Obi-Wan with assurance and a deep sense of mutual trust. He sent a pulse of greeting followed by one that pleaded for help. Withdrawing back into himself, Obi-Wan blinked his eyes open. Yoda would understand. He needed a distraction.
Five minutes later the cell plunged into an eerie green-tinted darkness as the light panel dropped from the ceiling. Obi-Wan caught it with one hand and the Force, laying it down quietly, then flicked off his lightsaber and stared upwards through the hole he had just created. The maintenance tunnel was sandwiched between decks and was lined with power cables and all the necessary conduits to keep the ship running. Dim light filtering down from the tunnel revealed a floor of metal grillwork blocking access. Obi-Wan powered up the green blade once again and held it up like a torch. He could barely discern the seam that indicated a hatch giving workers access to the light panel he had destroyed. He nudged with the Force. The hatch lifted a centimeter, dropping back into place with a quiet clunk. Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan stretched out his free hand and raised it. The Force radiated outwards, elevating the hatch and sliding it to the side. The muted scraping sounded thunderous to the Jedi. He stared at the door for a moment, then switched his blade off, almost dropping it when he automatically tried to clip it to a belt that wasn't there.
Obi-Wan leapt with the Force and landed in a crouch on the lip of the hatchway. He replaced the cover and, slightly stooped over, sidled down the low passage. A minute later he was slicing into the adjoining cell. He floated the light panel to the floor. Major Rusk's face seemed to hang suspended in the darkness of the cell as he stared upwards with a quizzical frown.
"Time to go, Rusk," whispered Obi-Wan. "Jump straight up."
The major did as he was told, only grunting quietly when Obi-Wan grabbed hold of him with the Force and lifted him through the hatchway. They stared at each other over the black hole.
Rusk slipped the makeshift bandage off his head and rubbed his healing cut. He tossed the blood-stained cloth into the cell below. "What now, General? I doubt if this tunnel has an outside exit, not that that would do us any good."
"I guess we'll just have to borrow a ship."
"No problem. I'm sure they have one fired up for us. Maybe you could distract them a little here. Slice through all these power cables. Cover our escape."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "It would take them about three seconds to determine the location of the outage. Another three seconds to link it to us. The less we tamper with, the better our chances of passing unnoticed." Obi-Wan motioned Rusk forward.
The tunnel was musty and hot. Periodic low-voltage lights buzzed. Dust particles drifted down from overhead pipes, clogging their nostrils and congesting their lungs. Soon both men were sweating, their breathing shallow. Obi-Wan's calves ached from the rolling heel-to-toe gait that kept his footsteps silent. They halted at a hub, with tunnels spreading out in four directions and a vertical shaft that cradled a ladder. Rusk sneezed. Obi-Wan's hand jerked to his waistband and clutched his lightsaber. His gaze darted down the passageways. In the thick silence, Rusk grimaced and shrugged.
"Where now?" the major whispered.
Obi-Wan smiled grimly and pointed past Rusk to the schematic bolted to the wall. They stepped up to the map and studied it. Obi-Wan traced a finger down two levels to the flight deck, then to the left. The aft hanger bay. Smaller than the main bay. Fewer Imperials. Rusk nodded and motioned for the Jedi to lead the way.
It took them ten minutes to negotiate the shaft and tunnel. Obi-Wan's senses sharpened with every little sound until pain was pricking the edges of his mind. A clang echoed down the passage. Muffled voices seeped from below; footsteps from above. He narrowed his focus, letting the Force smother the extraneous noises. Ten more meters to the hanger bay.
A klaxon sounded its alarm. The dull ringing reverberated through the tunnel. The men glanced simultaneously over their shoulders and exchanged concerned glances. Obi-Wan held up his finger for silence, tiptoed two meters ahead, and crouched. He could discern a beehive of activity below them. In a moment, the swarm of life-forces moved away from them, toward the hanger bay. Was the ship under attack? Realization struck and Obi-Wan suppressed a smile.
The nearest access was a meter behind the Jedi. He slid over to it and set the hatch aside. Rusk squatted beside him and raised a questioning brow.
"Our distraction has arrived," whispered Obi-Wan as he pulled his lightsaber from his waistband. "We have to move fast."
The green blade hissed as it extended. Obi-Wan cut smoothly around three sides of the light panel below them and kicked it open. The panel creaked and swayed on its new hinge. Obi-Wan dropped through the hole, lightsaber held above his head, still powered up. He landed in a crouch, weapon extended. The green light reflected off the pristine white surfaces of six shower cubicles. He pivoted, his gaze searching the empty refresher room and coming to rest on the door leading out. He waved Rusk down, cushioning the major's landing with the Force.
"I hate that floating feeling," Rusk muttered.
The klaxons ceased their wailing. Obi-Wan shushed the major and extended his senses beyond the door. Satisfied the room was empty, he touched the control pad and stepped through the doorway as the door flashed open. Only then did he power down the lightsaber and tuck it away. Rusk was right behind him.
The pilot ready room was a jumble of four tables scattered
with half-empty drinks, partly eaten meals, and one hastily abandoned
sabaac game. A minefield of pushed back and overturned chairs
filled the paths between the tables. Food and drink dispensers
lined one wall. A killboard was nestled between two simulators
on the adjacent wall. Duty rosters were posted next to the door
leading to the corridor. A row of mostly empty pegs flanked the
refresher door; three black flightsuits and matching helmets hung
in the far corner.
"Looks like we just joined the Imperial Navy," Rusk
commented as he paced across the room.
Obi-Wan snorted quietly and followed Rusk's lead. He stepped into one of the suits and held his arms out, then peered down dubiously.
"You look like a deflated Hutt," Rusk said as he snapped the fasteners closed on a suit that seemed to be made for him.
With a shrug, Obi-Wan yanked the belt of the overly large flightsuit as tight as he could. "This isn't a fashion show, Major. It just has to get me to a ship." He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. Had he ever seen an Imperial with a beard?
As he took down the helmet, the door behind them swooshed open. Obi-Wan slapped the helmet on, flicked the visor down, and turned to see an irritated officer filling the doorway. He slipped on black gloves as the officer eyed them up and down.
"I thought I heard voices in here," barked the officer. "This is no drill, gentlemen. All the other pilots have already scrambled."
"Sorry, sir. We were in the showers," Rusk replied.
The officer scowled. "Get to your ships."
Rusk snatched his helmet and gloves and snapped a salute. "Yes, sir."
As they hurried past, the Imperial grabbed Obi-Wan's elbow. "This can't be your assigned suit, pilot."
Obi-Wan stared through the darkened visor at the officer's narrow gaze. He hesitated, then replied, "No, sir. Mine is getting repaired. This is what they gave me as a replacement."
The officer released his grip and shook his head. "Typical."
Rusk and Obi-Wan marched shoulder to shoulder across the flight deck. Six fighters shot into space; six more glided toward the forcefield that held the icy vacuum at bay. Four fighters lifted off the deck and moved into the launch lane. Obi-Wan nudged Rusk away from the remaining grounded fighters and towards a shuttle that was balanced on blunt wings like a resting bird of prey.
"What are you doing?" whispered Rusk out of the side of his mouth.
"Those fighters aren't hyperspace capable," Obi-Wan whispered back.
"And those shuttles couldn't shoot their way out of a Rodian caf party."
Obi-Wan could feel a gaze drilling into the back of his neck. "Where's your gambling spirit, Major?"
"Somewhere back on Corellia."
Their boots slapped the bottom of the shuttle's landing ramp. A shout echoed across the deck. With a quiet warning to keep moving, Obi-Wan lengthened his stride. At the top of the ramp, Rusk hit the ramp control. Obi-Wan tossed his helmet aside and dashed to the cockpit. The engine was already whining to life when Rusk slid into the co-pilot's seat.
The comm unit lit up and buzzed insistently. Rusk met Obi-Wan's gaze. The Jedi nodded. "Keep them talking till we get out of here."
Rusk took a deep breath and toggled the comm switch. Before he could say anything, a loud voice burst over the airwaves. "What do you two nerf herders think you're doing? You don't have clearance for that shuttle. What are your operating numbers?"
Obi-Wan eased the vertical stick back and the ship lifted off the deck. He feathered the rudder control; the shuttle swung to face the forcefield.
Rusk flipped the switch to speak. "Actually, sir, if you check with Command, we do have clearance."
Obi-Wan floated the shuttle into the launch lane as a string of curses spewed from the comm speaker. The Jedi bit back a smile and circled his finger, urging Rusk to continue. Suddenly the voice demanded, "Give me your op clearance designators, pilot."
"Sorry, sir. No can do. Our mission is top secret." Rusk grimaced.
"By whose orders?"
Obi-Wan caught Rusk's blank glance and shrugged. He increased throttle and started toward the forcefield.
Rusk replied, "Ah. Lord Vader's, sir."
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. A second of silence filled the cockpit. "You can't take that shuttle into the middle of a fire fight, pilot. You'll never survive."
"You're probably right, sir." Rusk flicked the comm unit off.
The shuttle shot out of the Star Destroyer's underbelly.
Anakin always preferred exiting hyperspace farther out from the target planet than was usual -- it gave him more options. He entered the Garos system on a trajectory that gave most ships an ETA of 60 minutes; the Infiltrator could pare that down to 45.
As soon as the ship had dropped from hyperspace, the comm board had gone off, signaling a priority message to contact the Emperor. Anakin had ignored the same message before he'd left Alderaan. He was not going to be sidetracked to Coruscant this time. He did a thorough systems check. His gaze was drawn to the sensor display. The Star Destroyer Predator showed as a yellow-green blip. Smaller red blips swarmed around it. He frowned. The battle was days ago. Were the rebels actually daring to counterattack? His fingers itched to grab the throttle and join the fray, though it would be over before he could reach it.
The blinking message light caught his eye. Anakin took one more glance at the display monitor and thumped the console. He spun his chair and activated the holovid messaging center.
Moments later a 30 centimeter high holo of the Emperor rose from the projector, translucent blue, and looking far more ghostly than Obi-Wan's apparition had a week ago. Even the small size couldn't hide the displeasure creasing Palpatine's brow. The image flickered, then reassembled with only the Emperor's head and shoulder's showing. Now Anakin could clearly see the flaring nostrils and the flaming gaze.
Anakin kept his expression passive and inclined his head. "What is thy bidding, my Master?"
"Obedience, Lord Vader. An area in which you apparently need more training."
"But I received no orders, Eminence."
Palpatine's features contorted. "Don't play those foolish Jedi games with me. I know you received my summons before you departed from Alderaan. That you chose not to heed it was your mistake."
Ignoring the veiled threat, Anakin said, "Then you also know that Kenobi has been captured."
"Indeed. The commander is under orders to bring the Jedi to me as soon as his technology scan is complete."
Swallowing his anger, Anakin said, "Kenobi is mine. You yourself said I had to be the one to destroy him."
Palpatine's gaze narrowed. "And you would have been by my side when Kenobi arrived ... if you had taken the message when your communications system received it."
Anakin stared at the wavering blue face for a moment, then shook his head. "You have to know that Kenobi would never allow himself to be brought before you alive."
"Are you so sure, my young apprentice? Kenobi is over-confident. Perhaps he thinks he could defeat me."
"I am sure, my lord." Anakin's lip twitched; he schooled his expression back to neutrality. "As we speak, rebel forces are attacking the Predator." Satisfaction brushed Anakin's mind when he saw a ripple of surprise cross Palpatine's face.
The Emperor's eyes, dark blue and stoney in the hologram, seemed to find and drill into Anakin's gaze with uncanny accuracy. Anakin met the stare with a look that was calm and unwavering. The hum of the life-support systems surrounded him and grew in his senses until the silence roared. Except when Palpatine allowed it, Anakin could never tell what he was thinking. He chaffed inwardly, knowing full well that if the Emperor demanded it, he would return, this instant, to Coruscant. It was why he hadn't listened to the message. Despite what the Emperor had said earlier, obedience was Anakin's only option. The Dark Side was a far more demanding master than the Light Side had ever been, as strength is more demanding than weakness.
Finally, those holographic eyes softened, shifted, and Anakin knew the Emperor was deep into thinking and planning. He waited motionless. The moments stretched. Anakin fought to keep his attention focused on the holo, not on the sensor monitor that he wanted so desperately to scan so he could see those red blips disappear one by one.
Palpatine's voice was loud and grating. "I do not think these rebels are of much significance, my young apprentice. They are on the run, scattered, full of fear. They cannot harm us. Still, Kenobi has proven to be a persistent and somewhat annoying Jedi. There is no doubt he is spurring the rebels on to harass and disrupt the Empire in any way possible. But the real danger he poses is that of linking you to your past, and because of that I believe I will grant your wish." The Emperor paused and his gaze turned hungry, predatory. "Finish this. Deal with Kenobi. If at all possible, bring him to me before you kill him." The hologram winked out.
Anakin stared at the transmitter base for a few seconds, then sneered. "Sorry, Master. It's not possible."
The shuttle dodged a bolt of energy that sheared through space mere meters beyond the nose of the lightly shielded craft. It bobbed and lurched through an obstacle course of mostly red beams. Massive amounts of fire power surged from the Star Destroyer toward the small rebel ships -- mostly snubs -- darting and weaving at the edge of the destroyer's range. The Imperial fighters were just beginning to engage the enemy.
"Report in," Obi-Wan said. "Let those fighters know that we're out and what we're flying."
"Same frequency as our last battle?" Rusk asked.
"Should be."
The comm board sounded. The Imperials wanted to talk. The two men exchanged glances.
"Ignore it," Obi-Wan said.
Rusk nodded and adjusted frequencies. He quickly relayed the information to the rebel fighters, receiving immediate confirmation. The ship continued to jump and jerk as Obi-Wan sought safe passage through the laser storm. A jolt rocked the shuttle.
"Blast," muttered Obi-Wan. "They didn't take too kindly to being ignored." He pulled up sharply and swung into a port barrel roll. "Order our people out of here. They did their job." A laser skimmed the starboard shields. "No one stays behind. No one dies for us." Obi-Wan glanced askance at a grim countenance that mirrored his own. "Got that, Major?"
"Yes, sir," replied Rusk. He relayed the orders with a harshness that denied any rebuttal, then keyed in hyperspace co-ordinates.
Obi-Wan juked the shuttle back and forth. Lasers flashed past on both sides. The Imperial fighters turned back from their pursuit of the fleeing rebels. The sensor monitor showed two veering from a homebound flight path to one of interception. "What's the delay, Rusk? We're about to have company."
Rusk's fingers flew over the console. Suddenly he slammed his palm down. "Sithspawn!" He unbuckled and jumped to his feet and began a manual systems check, flicking toggle switches and twisting dials. He swore again. "Better head for cover, General."
"No hyperspace?"
"No hyperspace. We grabbed a ship down for repairs -- hyperdrive due for refit ... tomorrow."
With a sigh, Obi-Wan jerked the ship to avoid twin beams; one speared the shielding, dropping it to 70%. "We're going in hot."
Slipping back into his seat, Rusk quickly re-fastened his harness. "That's an understatement. Do you think they know yet who they're shooting at?"
"No, or they'd be sending more escorts."
Obi-Wan pushed the shuttle into a spiraling dive. Garos IV filled the viewscreen, a green and brown blur. Silence crammed into the cockpit. As tendrils of air touched the ship, Obi-Wan leveled off the dive and angled into the atmosphere. Gravity's pull increased; so did their speed. The fighters fell behind. When several cautionary lights began blinking, Obi-Wan waved off Rusk's worried glance, though he sensed the ship wouldn't take much more punishment. A natural slipstream sheared across the bow and the shuttle yawed to port, the left wing pointing at the ground. Obi-Wan re-oriented to the horizon and let the air currents carry the shuttle into a deep mountain valley, barren except for a ribbon of tumbling white water. The valley narrowed to a gorge that reduced daylight to a strip of blue high above. The ship rocketed between the granite walls with barely a meter on each side, bursting from the chasm as the water plummeted into a long fall and disappeared into a dense forest that crowded the foot of the cliffs.
Obi-Wan eased the throttle back and dropped the shuttle to skim above the treetops. A long sigh drew his attention sideways.
"You just took a couple years off my life. I hope you know that."
"Not near as many as the Imperials want to take off."
Rusk snorted. "What now?"
Pointing to the sensor monitor, Obi-Wan said, "We're coming up on an agricultural area with a small settlement. We'd better land. Most Garosians despise the Empire, so chances are pretty good that we'll find help."
A notch above minimal impulse, the shuttle skirted the settlement. Rusk pointed to an odd collection of space and land craft. Obi-Wan nodded and swung to starboard, kicking in the repulsors. Billows of dust swallowed the shuttle as it lowered to the ground. Obi-Wan initiated the automatic shutdown sequence and headed aft. The dust was still settling when he emerged from the ship and strode down the landing ramp, Rusk two steps behind. The black flightsuits were instantly coated in a grey film.
A green blaster bolt biting into the ground by Obi-Wan's boot brought both men to a sudden halt. Two beings -- one human, one Kurtzen -- emerged from the yawning entrance of what was obviously some kind of repair shop. The human shouted for them to stand still, then threaded his way between several engines and piles of assorted parts, blaster always trained on the two rebels. The Kurtzen circled around and came at them from the side. Obi-Wan unfastened his flightsuit rigging and undid the belt, disregarding the second warning to not move. The baggy suit pooled at his feet and he stepped out of it. In an eyeblink he had assumed battle stance, his lightsaber glowing green between him and the advancing beings.
The human straightened, his mouth slack, his blaster hanging from his limp fingers. The ridges on the Kurtzen's head seemed to deepen and his pale skin leeched to dead white. The human swallowed hard, then stammered, "Y-you ain't Imperial, are you?"
The green blade winked out. Obi-Wan flashed them a reassuring smile and tucked the weapon back in his waistband. "No. We were their guests. We had to borrow the shuttle to escape their ... hospitality." He pointed upwards, knowing all of Garos would be aware of the Star Destroyer orbiting their world.
Relief flooded the human's tanned features. The Kurtzen expelled a terse laugh and holstered his weapon. Rusk stepped up beside Obi-Wan and unfastened his flightsuit, revealing the light grey tunic favored by most rebels. Together they marched forward to meet the pair. Introductions were brief; both beings acknowledged the Jedi's name with slightly widened eyes. The human, Vintass by name, ushered them inside as he glanced repeatedly over his shoulder, while the Kurtzen -- Trull -- hurried to move the shuttle under cover.
Inside a dingy office crammed into the back corner of the garage, its walls lined with shelves cluttered by haphazard piles of vehicle parts that spread onto a narrow window ledge and the floor, Vintass stepped over several piles as he made his way around a rickety table that served as a desk. He motioned for the rebels to sit in two tattered chairs and sat down in his own. It squeaked loudly. He leaned forward, making the chair squeal again, and clasped his grease-stained hands, resting them on the dusty tabletop. The three men sat silently assessing each other until Trull stepped into the room and tapped the door control.
Without the door open, the air was stagnant. Obi-Wan kept his features open under continued examination. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rusk tapping a finger on his thigh. He trained his gaze on Vintass and arched one eyebrow slightly.
Vintass ran fingers through brown hair streaked with black and sighed. "You're the most wanted man in the galaxy, Obi-Wan Kenobi."
"With a bounty to match," replied Obi-Wan. Rusk snorted quietly.
Suddenly, Trull braced himself between the two chairs and leaned forward. Almost in Obi-Wan's ear, he whispered, "We could live out our lives in luxury for such a price."
"Could you?" the Jedi mused.
Trull pushed away from Obi-Wan, his barking laugh reverberating around the small room, stirring the dust. "The Imperials would gladly pay us and heap a generous bonus on top. And then they would arrest us, accuse us of theft and execute us. Me, certainly. My human friend here, they might only send to a penal colony."
"You don't think very highly of your new masters."
The Kurtzen spat. "My people rush to serve them and learn their technologies, but I will never bow my knee to such as those."
"I'm glad we're all in agreement on that," Rusk said. "Do you think we could move past the idle chitchat?"
Gold sparked in hazel eyes and a smile tugged at one corner of Vintass's thin lips. "We'll help, if that's your question. Tell us how."
Rusk leaned forward. Obi-Wan laid a hand on his arm and cut off whatever his friend was about to say. "I need a vehicle -- a fast one -- so that I can get away from here. I don't want to endanger you, or anyone in this settlement. Rusk can blend in, but I'm too recognizable. And too hot."
"What about the ship?" Trull asked.
"If you're willing to help Rusk get the hyperdrive going, he can use it to rejoin his unit." Obi-Wan smiled wryly. "An Imperial shuttle could prove very useful."
"I'm not leaving you behind, General," Rusk said.
"We're not having this discussion, Major. You'll do as your told." Obi-Wan met Vintass's gaze. "Someone is searching for me, or will be soon. Is there anywhere within a reasonable distance where it might be possible to turn the hunter into the hunted?"
Vintass dropped his gaze to his hands and rubbed his index fingers together for a moment. He looked up. "Maybe. But it's a place where nothin' lives and nothin' wants to. If you don't take it with you, it ain't there." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the dust-encrusted window behind him. "Two hundred clicks that-a-way. A high plateau called Caldera Flats. Lotsa caves sunk into the ground. Lotsa places to set up an ambush."
A light rustling and Trull's lips were back by Obi-Wan's ear. "Lots of places to die, too, Jedi, if you're not careful."
Obi-Wan stared hard at the opaque glass as he pondered the Kurtzen's words. His reply was quiet. "I have no intentions of being careful. Or of dying."
Rusk clasped his wrist and drew his gaze. A worried frown furrowed the major's brow. "Do you know what you're doing, General?"
Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a few seconds. The Force brushed his mind, beckoning him forward. He met Rusk's shadowed gaze and nodded. "I'm entering the nexus."
Anakin stood on the command deck of the Predator, hands clasped behind his back, as he stared into the dark comfort of space. The arching horizon of Garos IV filled the bottom half of the viewscreen. Kenobi was down there somewhere. His nearness was tantalizing, maddening.
The far off blinking lights of a ship rising from the surface came into view. Behind him, Anakin heard the comm officer hailing the vessel, warning it that the planet was shut down to any traffic --incoming or outgoing -- and that it had to turn back immediately. A moment later the nearest of a string of orbiting fighters was dispatched. Anakin watched dispassionately as the ship transformed into a fiery blossom.
The shock was gradually wearing off -- opening that cell door to find it empty, the dead lighting panel in the middle of the floor pointing the way of the Jedi's escape. Commander Scheef had stuttered something about thinking it best that no one have contact with such a dangerous prisoner, at least, not after the initial interview. Anakin had pushed past the commander and had bolted to the bridge, instituting the interdiction order by comlink as he ran.
Once there he had been drawn to the view of the planet that now held Kenobi prisoner. He had remained unmoving at the wall of transparisteel while Scheef unraveled the mysterious disappearance. The two unknown pilots taking a shuttle into the fire fight, claiming they were working undercover for him. How dare Kenobi use his name to escape! There were no limits to the man's audacity.
Scheef was talking over what they knew with his second in command. He was still puzzled as to how the Jedi had gotten out of the cell in the first place, how he had seemingly cut the light out of the ceiling.
Suppressing the urge to strike out at the imbecile, Anakin spoke loudly, his back still to the bridge. "Lightsaber."
The commander's voice was filled with surprise, "But, my lord, we thoroughly searched the Jedi and locked his weapon away. There's no way ..."
Anakin's back stiffened at being contradicted. Scheef must have noticed because he immediately ordered the captain to check the vault. The chatter in the crew pits dribbled away to nothing as everyone waited for the captain's return. The silence grew taut. Anakin shifted his gaze to the shadowy reflections on the transparisteel. Scheef's reflection was as nondescript as the man himself -- average height, average build ... average competency. Anakin curled his lip. The captain returned and hustled over to Scheef, whispering something in his ear. A sharp pulse of fear radiated out from the commander. Anakin's nostrils flared like a hunter's upon smelling his wounded prey.
The long black cape swirled around Anakin's knees as he spun and strode the length of the command deck. He halted before Scheef and pierced the man with his dark gaze, holding it until Scheef swallowed hard and tugged at his high collar.
Very quietly, Anakin said, "Describe, in detail, your interview with Kenobi."
Color drained from the commander's face. "I, I didn't conduct the interview, Lord Vader."
Anakin's sharp gaze swung to the captain, who stepped back, shaking his head. His attention returned to Scheef. "Who, exactly, did you delegate to do the interview?"
The commander hesitated before replying, "Lieutenant Marside."
"A lieutenant?" Anakin sneered. "Is this a ship of cowards that such a dangerous prisoner would be interviewed by one of your lowest ranking officers?" If possible, Scheef paled even more. Anakin whispered, "Bring him to me. Now."
Scheef jerked his head toward his captain, who scurried away. Anakin kept the commander pinned under his ruthless gaze. The odor of sweat salted by fear filled the air between the two men. Moisture trickled into Scheef's eyes and he blinked furiously to clear his vision, but otherwise remained stock-still. The commander sagged in relief when the captain returned with a man in tow and Anakin's scrutiny fell upon the hapless lieutenant.
What he saw was less than impressive. The pudgy fellow was fumbling as he attempted to fasten the last two buttons on his uniform. Finally, he finished the simple task and gave his belt a nervous yank. His brown hair drooped almost to his eyebrows. He brushed it back and saluted sloppily. Anakin noticed the commander cringe and narrowed his eyes.
"Do you know who I am, Lieutenant Marside?" Anakin asked.
Alarm leapt into the lieutenant's brown eyes. He nodded. Satisfied with the reaction, Anakin gave the man a reassuring smile and urged him to describe his interview.
"I entered the room and set something down ... no, I, I must have just sat. Yes, that's it. I sat down and ran through the standard questions. Of course, he refused to confirm his identity. He wouldn't, he didn't even speak ... at all. Refused to say anything to any of my questions. I, I slapped his face. Even then he just ... stared with this totally calm look." Marside shuddered. "The only time he spoke was when I mentioned you, Lord Vader. He said I should be afraid of you. But I told him he was the one who should be afraid. Then I got up to leave. Ah ... I paused. No, I just left him and told the guards to let him sit and worry about your arrival for 15 minutes before escorting him back to his cell." He blinked. "That's it, ah, sir."
Something wasn't right. Anakin stared at the heavily perspiring man. There were odd gaps in his telling. After a moment, Anakin raised one brow. "I'm going to do something, Lieutenant. You will feel some discomfort, but you are not to react in any way. Understood?"
The officer nodded anxiously. Anakin closed his eyes and drew upon the Force. He stretched beyond himself to the quivering lifeforce that was the lieutenant. Without hesitation, he plunged into the man's mind. He faintly heard a strangled gasp and dismissed it. He sifted backwards through the man's memories to the interview. As he suspected. He directed a surge of Dark Side energy at the memory block and sensed its dissolution. Withdrawing back into himself, Anakin opened his eyes to find the lieutenant whimpering at his feet.
In a harsh voice, Anakin said, "Tell me once more, Lieutenant. From the beginning."
Between the lieutenant's fits of blubbering, Anakin caught a few words. "I took ... I didn't ... he said ..." Anakin met the commander's puzzled gaze with a fierce glare. He reached out through the Force and yanked the man to his feet with an invisible hand. Marside's toes barely touched the floor.
"I saw your memories. You took the lightsaber with you, thinking to taunt Kenobi with your knowledge of him being a Jedi. Fool," Anakin snarled. "He used his power to make you forget about the weapon and leave it behind." The smell of urine stung Anakin's sinuses. Disgust mingled with anger. "Kenobi was right about one thing, Lieutenant. He was right when he warned you to fear me." Anakin drew on his anger and hate, letting it fuel his power, then unleashed it in a single bolt of energy that flung the lieutenant across the open crew pit to smack against the bulkhead with a sickening thud. The lifeless body dropped onto one of the comm consoles, and the officer manning it jumped back, shooting a terrified glance at the dark lord. Anakin gave the officer a small smile. The man blanched.
Anakin wheeled to face Scheef. The commander's face was awash in horror as he stared at the crumpled form. Even when two officers in the pit hoisted the body off the control panel and dragged it away, he continued to stare at the blood-stained console. The fear emanating from all corners of the command deck enhanced the Dark Side and sharpened Anakin's senses. He cleared his throat. When the commander didn't respond, he grasped the man's chin with unseen fingers and turned his face back. Anakin didn't hide his anger; Scheef couldn't hide his dread.
"You let Kenobi escape." When there was no verbal response, Anakin continued. "You sent an incompetent to do your job. You put Kenobi in a cell without any surveillance. You let that unauthorized shuttle take off. You let it escape."
"But none of the cells have surveillance. And I didn't --"
Anakin cut him off by holding up his index finger. "Are you the commander of this vessel?"
"Of course. But I --"
"Then you are responsible. Period."
Resignation veiled the fear lurking in the commander's eyes. He lifted his chin and croaked, "Yes, my lord."
"Captain?"
The captain stepped forward. "Yes, sir?"
"Remove the commander's insignia." When the captain had done so, Anakin pinched his thumb and finger together. Scheef began to choke and claw at his neck. He sank to his knees, gagging, sputtering, turning blue. He fell face first to the floor, his hand flopping over Anakin's black boot. Anakin nudged it away and stepped over the body. He paused by the shaken captain and said, "Congratulations on your promotion, Commander."
"Th-thank you, Lord Vader."
Anakin's predatory instincts were clamoring. Kenobi would not escape this time. Perhaps he didn't even want to escape. So be it. He would pay dearly for his overconfidence. "Prepare my Infiltrator for immediate launch. I have an urgent appointment on the surface."
