//------------------------------// // 73: The Dark Lord // Story: Empire and Rebellion // by Snake Staff //------------------------------// Twilight hurried through the bowels of the Devastator, heart racing now more than ever. With the Jedi tucked as safely and softly as she could manage into a cargo container, she had completely committed to this. The plan wasn’t nearly as sound as she would have liked, but if she had waited for a perfect moment it almost certainly would have come too late. As it was the alicorn was taking several gambles: that no one would come checking on the detention block for a good little while, that there weren’t any security systems she didn’t know about, and that the ship’s officers would be terrified of admitting failure to Vader and would avoid contacting him as long as possible. None of that sat well with her rational mind, but what choice did she have? The princess could feel the sweat trickling down her neck, soaking her uniform’s collar, but kept her face as stoic and businesslike as possible. Every psychology textbook she’d ever read emphasized the importance of the perception of normality, many pointed out that if one looked like one was supposed to be there, most would simply assume that you were. Twilight breathed carefully as she went, willing her pounding heart to slow down. Going into a panic wouldn’t help anyone, least of all herself or the other woman. She made as good a time as could be expected through the Star Destroyer, her hovering pallet proving very effective in convincing people to move aside. With every soul she passed a small, irrational part of her fear that one of them might spot something, might raise the alarm or draw weapons on her. But none did, few even seemed to pay much attention to her at all. The crew was, if not friendly, at least politely disinterested in her, which under the current circumstances was even better. She was nearing the hanger bay where the supply shuttle was waiting for its crew to return, and no alarms were wailing. No one was rushing about at a call to arms. Then she heard it. The deep, rhythmic, mechanical breathing was unmistakable. Twilight’s heart skipped a beat the moment she heard, and she had to fight the urge to panic and bolt. He wasn’t supposed to be back here for hours! Had he sensed it? Did he sense her? But how could he have… Her eyes wandered to the box, then her horror redoubled. Of course, if she could feel the woman’s pain, and Bastila was correct when she guessed Vader was amplifying the signal as a lure, that would mean… Questions dropped from her mind the instant he appeared at the far end of the hallway, black amidst a sea of sterile white light. Twilight swallowed, striving to suppress her presence in the Force, praying he didn’t notice. It took her just a moment to realize that she had stopped walking, and that there was suddenly no one else in sight. Just the towering black cyborg, striding towards her at an unhurried, steady pace. Twilight hadn’t even had time to decide if she should gamble on walking right past him or just run as hard as she could in the opposite direction before Vader stretched out a hand. A supply crate’s top shuddered, and when he jerked it to the side the lid flew off, smashing into a wall. The half-conscious Togruta woman was exposed, lying on what few soft pieces of cloth Twilight had been able to find. “Were you truly so foolish as to believe such an ill-conceived escape plan could work?” Vader came to a halt, still some distance away. “Ahsoka, your hopeless defiance will only bring you more pain.” “I…” the woman groaned, struggling to sit up. “I won’t – ghrck!” Vader’s outstretched hand had clenched into a fist, and at that same moment the Togruta’s own hands went to her throat. She had less than a second to grasp at it before she was torn from it, slammed headfirst into a wall, and then released. She crumpled to the floor in a heap, moaning softly. “I’ll deal with you later,” he said, before turning his helmet to stare straight at Twilight. “You, I’ll deal with now.” The cyborg drew a heavy-looking lightsaber from his belt. It blazed into life, crimson blade humming softly amidst the silence of the corridor. Vader started forwards. Twilight stared briefly, nervously, then glanced over at the woman she had come for. She made her decision, reaching out with her hand. Another crate burst open, and her own lightsaber came flying out. She caught it in one hand, twin blue blades hissing as they sprang into being. “The weapon of a Jedi,” Vader paused again, closer this time. “Yet you do not match the profile of any in the Temple archives. Who taught you, girl?” Twilight remained silent, holding a guard position. There was a moment of quiet, and then she felt a chill at the edge of her mind. Hurriedly, she clamped down on everything, throwing up every mental barrier she could think of. “There is something… unusual about you. Tell me who your master is and where I can find them, and perhaps I shall make your death quick.” “You’re getting nothing out of me.” “If you truly believe that, then you are more foolish than I thought.” The pressure on her mind increased, to the point it almost seemed a physical thing. It was like her brain was being enveloped and squeezed by some enormous, ice-cold snake. Twilight’s head began to hurt. “Where do you come from?” Vader said. “Who sent you? You will tell me.” “No!” Twilight cried, thrusting out both her hands. The cargo pallet in front her, crates and all, was flung abruptly forward as a storm of projectiles. Vader stretched out his hand, the heavy objects simply crashed to the ground around him, smashing themselves to pieces with the force of the princess’ attack, but coming nowhere close to touching him. But the pressure on Twilight’s mind had eased, and she had already committed herself. The alicorn launched herself at the cyborg in a burst of Force-imbued speed, using the distraction of the crates to close the distance. Her lightsaber blades flickered blindingly fast as she swung one at his face, following up with an immediate jab at his legs with the other when his blade caught her first attack. Vader simply took a step back, lightsaber swinging for her head. Twilight ducked beneath it. She had to take him out, now, before he was able to pry anything about who she truly was from her mind. Hopefully keeping his concentration on her sword would keep it off her brain. And, for a woman as new to the lightsaber as she, it could not be said that Twilight was lacking. Her twin blades seemed more akin to azure streaks than coherent swords to the naked eye, each moving in a straightforward but unceasing pattern of strikes. The goal of each and every thrust she made was to keep Vader on the backfoot, one blade occupying his while the other aimed to slash some unprotected point. She advanced as quickly as she dared, body easily flowing into one of set of sequences she’d memorized after another. Her physique was quite literally built for this, everything from musculature to bone density carefully altered to allow her to move and strike as fast and hard as was physically possible for a humanoid of her stature. For all that, Darth Vader didn’t even seem to be phased, much less worried. It was impossible to read his unmoving mask and most of her efforts were going into her lightsaber attacks, but she couldn’t detect any distress in the Force. The towering cyborg was overwhelmingly strong and, if not fast, seemed to know exactly where he needed to be at each and every moment. For every strike she made it seemed that his blade was there to meet it, either pressing down to threaten a contest of strength or else counter-swiping at an opening she’d left. Many times Twilight was forced to break off an attack sequence altogether when the crimson lightsaber zeroed in on some flaw and forced her to dodge for her life. Twilight changed styles, switching off one blade in the middle of an attack and stabbing down at one of his legs, trying to use the extra reach afforded by her longer hilt. No success there either, Vader batted her sword aside with such force as to almost rip it from her hands. She reactivated the second blade just in time to parry a swing at her face. He didn’t let up, pressing and forcing the locked blades back towards her neck. She dodged to the side, forfeiting the contest and feeling the heat of the lightsaber come far too close to her hand. The princess went low, kicking out at her foe’s shin. Unfortunately for her, it connected. The alicorn staggered as pain shot up her left leg – it was like kicking a stone wall! If she had truly been human, and her bones as vulnerable as theirs, it was all but certain that her foot would have broken right there. As it was, Darth Vader wasted no time in counterattacking, a vicious one-handed power blow sending the princess scrambling back. The cyborg did not let up, immediately swinging at her torso and forcing a further retreat. Now Twilight was on the backfoot, struggling to bring her lightsaber to bear properly against the barrage of heavy power blows raining down on her. They weren’t coming as fast as she had done, but every swing felt like it had an avalanche behind it. Every time blue and red blades connected Twilight felt her arms shudder as they struggled not to buckle. She gave ground rapidly, trying to but herself out of reach, but Vader allowed her no such respite. No matter how fast she tried to back up he always seemed to be but a step away, giving her no room to try the more elaborate spinning moves the saberstaff favored. He was unrelenting, untiring, seemingly unstoppable. It was as Twilight was backing up yet further, one blade forced downwards by his, that Vader’s left hand suddenly shot out. He seized her saberstaff’s elongated hilt directly at its center point, his enormous strength immediately bringing it to a sudden and terrible halt. Twilight’s eyes had barely had time to widen before his crimson blade shot right past her guard. Twilight screamed as Vader’s lightsaber cleaved her left arm off at the elbow. Even as the overwhelming wave of pain washed over her brain, she felt the cyborg simply tear the lightsaber from her remaining hand. Vader tossed the now-deactivated hilt aside with a flick of his wrist, then made a gesture with his left hand. Twilight slammed back onto the wall and, as Vader made a fist, felt iron bands clamping about her throat. “All too easy,” Vader commented. Twilight’s body screamed with shock, agony reaching up from her severed limb and threatening to drown her mind in it. Her other hand was at her throat, mindlessly grasping at the obstruction that was not there. Her feet kicked desperately at nothing, while the rest of her simply spasmed. “As I said,” Vader stepped over her severed arm, bringing his lightsaber to within an inch of her face. “You will tell me who you are and who trained you.” Even as he spoke Twilight could feel the tendrils of his mind forcing their way into hers once more. Her mental barriers began to crumble, agony and oxygen deprivation making concentration all but impossible. “Even now you try to resist. What are you hiding, girl?” The red blade moved even closer, now all but touching her left eyeball. She squeezed her eyes shut out of blind instinct, but the radiating heat told her fading mind everything. “Perhaps more pain is necessary,” she dimly heard the cyborg say. “No matter, it is in ample supply.” Then, without warning, there came a sudden surge in the Force. Heavy boots staggered, and the pressure on Twilight’s throat vanished. She collapsed to the floor in a heap, then desperately lashed out with the Force. Her eyes snapped open again and were rewarded with the sight of Vader, caught his attention elsewhere, flying back down the corridor. Twilight gasped for air, hand frantically massaging her windpipe even while what was left of her other arm pinned itself to her stomach. She recovered more quickly than a human had any right to, her immortal flesh simply more resilient than a natural being. Her eyes darted around, seeking the source of her salvation. They quickly settled on the Togruta woman – Ahsoka – now on her knees with arms outstretched. “Thanks,” Twilight managed to mouth. “No… problem…” Ahsoka breathed heavily. “What is it you that hope to gain from this futile defiance?” a booming bass voice cut into the brief reverie. Twilight eyes shot back in the opposite direction. Vader stood there, tall and menacing, no longer even bothering with his lightsaber. “You cannot stop me,” he said, taking one step forward. “I am more powerful than either of you.” “We’ll…” Ahsoka bared her teeth, “see about that!” The Togruta thrust out both hands again, the Force surging around her. From the ground, Twilight stretched out her own hand and added what energy she could. Darth Vader raised one black-gloved hand to meet them. For a moment the hallway was still, all three looking almost ridiculous as they stared at one another with arms outstretched. Then the moment was over and Twilight, Ahsoka, and whatever happened to be in the immediate vicinity were blasted with an overwhelming shockwave of invisible energy. Alicorn and Togruta went flying, soaring through the air all the way to the T-intersection where the corridor ended. Smacking painfully into the wall, they collapsed to the ground and were immediately bombarded with debris. Twilight experienced the charming sensation of being hit in the face with her own severed arm. Twilight blinked rapidly, trying to clear away the tears of pain that continued to well up inside her eyes. When she looked up from where she lay, she saw Vader striding unhurriedly down the hallway towards them. “How…” Ahsoka was clutching her head, “do we…” “We… don’t…” Twilight managed through gritted teeth. “Run.” The Togruta took one look at the cyborg walking calmly towards them, then grabbed the hilt of Twilight’s saberstaff with one hand. The other she offered to the princess. “Come on,” she hissed as Vader drew nearer. “Hurry!” Twilight took several deep breaths, and then took it. Ahsoka hauled her, a bit unsteadily, to her feet. Then, arm in arm, the two women fled for their lives.