The Adventures of the Crimson Hawk, Part 29

Luke awoke in a thick leather chair on the bridge. As his eyes focused, he saw the malevolent visage of his father driving the main wheel, occasionally hissing at a button. The cathedral windows were surrounded by lavender clouds melting into the rapidly darkening evening sky.

“Good evening, my young apprentice.” Palpatine's ermine cloak hung off one shoulder, the bottom hems dirty and bedraggled from being dragged across a muddy lawn. He'd lost his red sash and three of his medals fleeing the ball, making him look even more like an ancient sorcerer cackling over a cauldron of foul-smelling brew.

“What...what happened?” Luke gazed steadily into Palpatine's yellowish orbs. “Where's Henry and Leia? What have you done with them?”

Vader pushed a button, placing the Death Star II on auto pilot. “We received word from General Brendol Hux at Nabarrie Palace that Captain Solo and Duchess Organa have been captured, and are awaiting execution. There's no hope for either of them now.”

“Nor for you.” Luke's voice was steady. “Soon I'll be dead, and you with me.”

“You mean the attack of your little band of rebels?” Even Palpatine's laughter resembled the cackle of a fairy-tale witch. “The Coruscant Navy is quite prepared for them. And what they don't deal with, the Death Star itself can handle.” He leaned into a long brass tube attached to the side of the wall. “Fire at will, Commander Jerrod.”

Luke looked on in horror as two of the boats following them on the Calamari River were blown to splinters by a thin green light. A third barely missed the Ghost, which managed to dodge the light beam.

“I'm afraid your band was fed older information.” Palpatine's sharp smile was that of a shark about to devour its pray. “This vehicle is quite operational, and has been for weeks. In fact, we're on our way to Aldra to eliminate the rest of their capitol city, and perhaps lay waste to a few of their other major ports as well. What a pity such a cataclysm should happen to one of the loveliest countries in the Alliance.” His gold eyes narrowed. “Grand Duke Organa should never have taken sides. This will prove once and for all what happens to those who defy the Coruscant Empire.”

Luke watched the carnage as the Ghost and Maz Kantana's pirates traded shells with the Coruscant Navy. They were hopelessly outnumbered. The navy had put another boat into the water before Luke finally turned to them. “No,” he said, his voice now a whisper. “I'm not a toady like my father.”

“I'm no sniveling wastrel, like that idiot Hux at Nabarrie Castle.” Vader clenched his fists. “I'm my own man, not a slave!”

“Yes you are, Father. You're a slave to” Luke nodded his head in Palpatine's direction “him.”

“Never!” His hissing became more pronounced. “I am a pupil!”

“That's right, my young apprentice. You were greatly mistaken.” Palpatine flounced over to a table near the bubbling generator, where Luke's electrical saber lay. “I can feel your fear. Release your anger! Take your place by my father's side! Eliminate me once and for all. I know you want to!”

Luke's eyes were closed. Sweat poured down his face. He knew Palpatine was lying about Leia, at least. He could feel her. If he could get rid of this madman, take him down, his father would come home. He could get rid of these phantom menaces, once and for all.

He faltered only a moment, looking out at the carnage on the water, before the pack and saber flew into his hand. The youth slipped it on and flipped the switch before Vader had the chance to let out another raspy breath. The mechanical man lunged for his son just in time to stop him from taking Palpatine's ashen head off all together.

Palpatine's cackle reverberated through the halls of the Death Star II, to the point where several officers had to check the rooms to make sure they hadn't picked up any spell-casting witches somewhere.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Did you see that?” Langdon Croydon's own dark eyes were wide with shock as he watched a green light shoot another ship out of the water. “That blast came from the Death Star! That thing's operational!”

“We saw it.” Admiral Ackbar's voice croaked from his own ship, the Ancient Mariner. Langdon was glad he'd thought to give him an extra talking box from the Falcon, even if the 80-year-old war veteran kept holding the thing like it would bite him. “I'm withdrawing all craft from the water, including Captain Syndulla's. We can't deal with fire power of that magnitude.”

“Captain Antilles is already on-board the Death Star, setting up the bombs to take out the shields.” Langdon turned the Falcon a hard right. “We're already on our way. You've got to give us more time!”

One of the Admiral's aides could be heard frantically behind him. “Admiral, three of the Coruscant ships have boxed us in. We can't get back to the harbor!”

The Admiral's croak sounded more desperate. “It's a trap!”

Langdon nodded at his co-hort, a small man from the mountain kingdom of Sullustia with a hang-dog face and large liquid brown eyes. “Niem, get Laurence and our boys to the guns. We'll show that Navy a thing or two. And we might even take a few of them along with us!”

Niem let out a fearfulstream of what sounded to most people like gibberish. Langdon, who spent some time among the Sullustians at their casino in the southern valleys, could translate well enough. “Don't worry, buddy, my friends will have that shield down in time!”

His friend just continued with his gibberish, even as he turned his attention to the nearest canon. “Or this will be the shorted offensive of all time,” Lando continued under his breath.

~*~*~*~*~*~

On board the Death Star, two baby-blue eyes peered around a corner. “All clear, boys!” Tycho Celchu emerged into the main control room first. “They must have all gone to man the cannons.”

“I wish I was out there with them.” Derek “Hobbie” Kilivan followed, his dark eyes glittering under his gray Coruscant Airship Officer's cap. “I'd rather be shooting something than sneaking around in here. We're going to get arrested again.”

“You only get arrested if you get caught.” Wes Janson, clad in a tight black gunner's uniform, tossed a few bright balls into the air. “I got these off Sabine Wren, that cute maid at Chalindria Court, a few weeks ago. She says they make colored smoke when they're dropped or thrown. Been dying to try them.”

“Ain't she gorgeous?” Gavin Darklighter's grin nearly matched that of his cousin Biggs, who had died trying to defend the Falcon and Rogue from the first Death Star. “Too bad she's hung up on Ezra Bridger. He's a nice kid, but I kind of wish she'd have second thoughts.”

Corran Horn shrugged. “I'm just hoping those crew members we left tied up in the ship yard before the Rogue delivered the Death Star to the Palace don't get loose and tell on us.”

“Shhh!” Wedge waved them all down. The domed generators, with their fizzy blue liquid and sizzling tubes, took up almost the entire room. There was barely enough space for him, the guys, and the three men looking over the room.

“Officers?” The only officer in room, a small, weasel-like little man, stared right into Wedge's eyes. “Haven't I seen you before?”

Wedge tried to look official. “No, Officer...” He peered quickly at the man's label “...Jerrod” He squared his shoulders and said in his stuffiest British accent, the one that made him sound like Cedric, “my men and I are here on our usual inspection tours of this facility.”

“Baron Vader didn't say anything about an inspection before we took off.” Jerrod started for the door. “I'll have to clear it with him.”

Wedge nodded quickly at Wes, who flung open the windows in the back. “Oh no, the machines are boiling over! Look at all this smoke!” He smashed every ball he held in his hands on the floor, creating a cacophony of rainbow fumes.

“Oh dear.” Wedge peered out the windows. “It seems that in our haste, we knocked Officer Jerrod and his men into the Calamari River.”

Wes looked out with him. “Aw, you mean they didn't land on a rock or something?”

Tycho wrinkled his nose. “You're bloodthirsty today. We wanted to get rid of the jerks, not impale them. See? The Admiral already fished them out.” Indeed, they could see the men of the Ancient Mariner, in their orange Naboo Navy uniforms, tugging the trio of Coruscant soldiers into the boat with a fisherman's net.

“That takes care of them.” Wedge pulled a small metal ball, this one a gunmetal gray, out of his pocket. “Let's set up these bombs and get out of here. I don't want to be hanging around this place when Calarissian shows up with the Falcon and blows it out of the sky.”

Wes nodded as he and Hobbie attached more explosive balls to the generators. “Yeah. I'd like to live to make jokes another day.”

“Not to mention,” Tycho added, “the moment they hear the blast, they'll be looking for us.”

Wedge stepped back as Corran attached the last bomb. “Good work, boys. Now, let's go find the Rogue and get the hell out of here!”

As he followed the others out the door, a tinny voice squawked in his back pocket. “Hello?”

“Hey, kid.” Langdon Croydon's honey-dripping voice was a lot more upset than usual. “Just got a call from the White Swan. Her Grace told me they have the jewels, but Vader snatched Luke and took him on the Death Star.”

Wedge's angry bellow echoed down the hall. “What!? If that walking tin can has hurt him in any way...”

“The White Swan wasn't sure what Vader had planned, but it didn't sound good.” A sizzling blast over the box nearly deafened Wedge. “We're in a tight spot with the Death Trap here, Rogue Five. I'm going to have to let you go. Over and out.”

“Over and out.” Wedge turned to the other men, all of whom were hovering hopefully over his shoulder. “Looks like we have a rescue mission, boys.”

“All right!” Wes cheered long and loud. “We get to be heroes!”

Wedge whipped out his own light gun, a look of grim determination on his face. “Let's go, Rogue League. The true King of Naboo needs our services.” He closed his eyes, then added under his breath as the others charged down the hallway, “and I need him.”