//------------------------------// // 68: Delivery // Story: Empire and Rebellion // by Snake Staff //------------------------------// “The results are consistent?” Darth Sidious said in a level tone. “Yes, your majesty,” said the hologram of 11-4D. “Analyses conducted over a period of weeks show a consistent degradation of activities in sections of the subject’s brain associated with conscious thought and a concurrent increase in activity in the neuropathways associated with emotional reactions when the subject is injected with our chemical formula. However, the effect is less pronounced than anticipated at the dosage she is exposed to during the course of our treatments. Her biology appears substantially resistant to chemical imbalance, and over time effects may decrease to nil. Should we increase the dosage?” “No,” the Emperor shook his head, offering no explanation. “Maintain present dosage.” “As you wish,” the droid answered. “I regret to report that we are no closer to uncovering the cause of the subject’s biological stasis, though we now have a great deal of data on everything from cellular structure to stress response. Unfortunately, the underlying mechanisms continue to prove elusive.” “I see,” he frowned slightly. “Continue your work as previously directed. Inform me if anything changes. Dismissed.” The droid bowed its head, then vanished. Sidious’ throne rotated to give him his customary view of the Coruscant night sky as he considered the situation. Patience, it seemed, would as always be the key. Attempting to simply bludgeon the alien’s mind into submission would have been folly, extremely wasteful even if it succeeded. And if it failed, this specimen might well prove to be entirely irreplaceable. Far better to let her thoughts remain her own even as they lead her right to him. All the necessary ingredients were there. An injection to inflame her existing passions, the Force to nudge her mind subtly in the directions that he wished it. The dark side itself to cloud any precognitive powers she might possess. Slowly unravel her pretense of control, expose the emptiness and futility of that which she thought that she loved. But nothing so crude and clumsy as outright attempts at mind control or brainwashing. Such things were far less permanent. And far less enjoyable. When the Starry Night next dropped out of hyperspace, it was in a nameless, uninhabited system on the fringes of Wild Space. There the Arquitens light cruiser almost immediately detected three gigantic Imperial Star Destroyers encircling a planetoid on the outer edges of the system’s asteroid belt: the Devastator, Chimera, and Accuser. The massive battleships were unloading a coordinated barrage of heavy turbolaser fire across the airless planetoid. There were also what appeared to be chunks of some kind of ships floating around not far from the Star Destroyers, currently being used along with any survivors for fighter target practice. Luna watched the spectacle from behind the lenses of her repaired helmet, watched as what had presumably been some sort of pirate or raider base was mercilessly pounded by the heavy guns. Any life that had lingered down there was no doubt long dead, but it seemed the Empire wanted to utterly erase any evidence that life had ever been present here. Why, and why this mission had earned Vader’s personal attention, were questions for another time. For now, it was enough to what these ships could do, to watch as they laid waste to an asteroid the size of a continent. Blackened chunks of it were already floating off into space, and the remainder was visibly becoming less and less stable even as they approached. She felt nothing at the destruction, save appreciation for the opportunity to see these ships in action. Knowledge, as Vader said, was power. “My lady,” said Captain Hayes, “transmition for you.” “Put it through,” Luna said, turning away from the demonstration. “Inquisitor,” said Vader’s own Captain, Orion, almost as soon as he appeared. “Your presence is unexpected. Lord Vader did not put out a call for you.” “Nonetheless, I am here,” she answered. “I have something of importance, for his eyes only. I would request an audience with him at his earliest convenience.” “Are you certain your matter is worth bringing to his attention?” he asked. “My lord rarely cares for surprises. I would suggest dealing more directly with colleagues within your own organization unless this is truly of the direst import.” “It is,” she assured him. “Are you absolutely sure?” He frowned. “He does not look favorably upon interruptions.” “I am, Captain. Kindly inform Lord Vader that I request an audience as soon as he feels that the time is appropriate.” “So be it,” he nodded. Rarely one to stand on ceremony or empty posturing at the best of times, Darth Vader was in no mood at all do to so on this day. The cybernetic Sith Lord simply proceeded through the bowls of the Devastator at his usual unhurried stride, but inside the armor his irritation was building, threatening to blossom into full-blown anger. The triviality of this task alone had been enough to set him on edge, now fresh idiocy from a subordinate might well set heads rolling. Did this new apprentice of his understand nothing of tact or subtlety? For a being that had supposedly reigned over a nation for thousands of years, she demonstrated a remarkable lack of comprehension of political realities. How did she imagine it would appear to the Emperor if his apprentice seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time around a single Inquisitor? Was she truly fool enough not to realize that his eyes were on Vader wherever he went? Of course, he had, and was currently, training many of the Inquisitorius on an ongoing basis, but it was not often that one accompanied him the field across a multi-week campaign and then almost immediately ran back to him after completing a mission. Most among the servile organization had too much sense to court his attention. For her to do so in such a brazen manner could not help but draw the attention of the Emperor’s spies hidden amongst his ship’s crew. That alone might be enough to condemn her to death. The woman had better have something truly remarkable to present to him, Vader had decided, for her own sake. Those who hoped to curry respect with him must show themselves to be far more than simply capable. If this prize was simply some trophy of a dead Jedi or information on an insignificant band of insurgents huddled on a distant world, she would find herself becoming intimately acquainted with his interrogation droids for the next several weeks. If it failed to even rise to that level she was obviously too stupid to be of any real use, and would be silenced accordingly. It was strange though, what he was feeling in the Force. It was almost like a presence, a presence he hadn’t felt since… The Dark Lord brushed off useless hypotheticals as he entered the docking bay. An honor guard of Stormtroopers was already present at the base of the ship’s ramp, including several that he senses were not from his own ranks. His anger well up yet further, the fool had had the chance to simply bring whatever it was to him without delay, but had waited for him to get there purely to make an entrance. She had better not presume to waste his time. The Inquisitor at least had the sense not to stall any further once he had come near, descending the ramp almost immediately. She bowed low at his approach, while four more Stormtroopers appeared in the ramp behind her, guiding a hovering coffin down towards him. Was that it, then? Unless that machine contained the likes of Obi-Wan or Yoda… No, Vader realized as he neared his pawn, not a coffin. A sealed medical capsule. “Lord Vader,” the kneeling woman said. “May I present, for your pleasure, the former apprentice of Anakin Skywalker.” For the first time in a very long time, Vader’s ruined eyes widened a fraction in genuine surprise. Surprise that Ahsoka yet lived. That she had been so foolish as continue operating where an agent of the Empire could find her. But most of all, that this woman had actually managed to take her. He walked past the kneeling servant without pause, running a hand over the top of the hovering medical transport, sensing the power contained inside. There was no mistaking it, not even after all this time. His helmet turned to regard her. “You,” he said, “have done well.”