Three Imperials fleeing the imminent destruction of the second Death Star reflect on Darth Vader's death and the collapse of the Empire. This is a work of fan fiction and all characters and scenes herein are the property of LucasArts. Please do not reprint story without author's permission. Contact Quentin at AdmiralHarkov@juno.com or Ulic_Qel_Droma@hotmail.com. Also visit Quentin and Celeste's webpage at http://come.to/sithlords -------------------------------------------------- THE END OF AN ORDER by Quentin Stuart -------------------------------------------------- The faint rumble of explosions could still be felt through the thick metal hull of the escort shuttle. Seated behind the pilot's chair, Del Telkar watched as Captain Torvis and Ker Sadar moved their hands skillfully over the controls, quickly and efficiently, but with a tenseness that spoke of hurried haste. Torvis was still in stormtrooper armor, minus the helmet, his once-gleaming white armor scored with burn marks. Sadar had stripped off his armor but had kept on the tight black body glove underneath. Telkar still wore his flight suit, the same one he had been waiting in all morning for the call to his ship. The one he'd been waiting in when the explosions began. The explosions had been a mere annoyance at first. He and the other pilots sitting in the ready room had cast significant glances at each other, looked away. He had felt no anxiety. The Death Star was powerful, indestructible. Nothing the Rebellion could do would succeed against such a mighty battle machine. So he'd sat, waiting for the noises to cease. But the explosions had continued and the anxiety level had mounted. Then there was a muffled crash and gouts of fire had burst from the ceiling, the wall of the room. He hadn't waited. As metal melted and the ceiling cracked, he ran. But it was a ways from the ready room to the hangar bay. The corridors were a shocking sight. Dead troopers lay everywhere, melted plastic and metal partly fused to their bodies, lifeless mutants trapped forever in a plastic shell. Terrified technicians pushed past, their eyes wide in panic. Telkar had kept on running, pushing the rising terror back to where it crouched vigilant in a corner of his mind but could not touch him. Not yet. He'd reached the hangar along with knots of other personnel, officers in dark gray, fighter pilots, the look on their faces the same blank primordial terror that he knew was still lurking hidden in a corner of his mind. He'd known it was hopeless. The Rebellion had triumphed. And he was going to die. There had been but a few shuttles left in the bay, most of them Lambda-class, and those already beginning to lift from the floor of the hangar bay, half-empty or not. Telkar had broken into a sprint for the nearest, lungs bursting. Then he halted, abruptly, skidding on the metal deck, turning to something he'd seen out of the corner of his eye. A figure clothed in black, ebony cape wrapped about him like a shroud, lay crumpled on the floor. Where the head should have been was a lump of flesh, scarred and hideously deformed. A black mask lay discarded to the side, and leaning above him, a young man, just a boy, really, head bowed. Telkar had swallowed, frantically forcing down the terror that threatened to overwhelm him, feeling faintly sick. Darth Vader? Sitting now behind the pilot's seat, feeling the shuttle rise smoothly from the floor of the collapsing hangar, approaching that square of black space that was the hangar entrance, Telkar saw again in his mind the dark lord fallen, broken, dying on the floor of the bay. Surely some of the others had seen Vader too, running past. And yet they had done nothing to save their lord. Telkar grasped the back of the seat, trying to make sense of it all. Vader, who had been feared above all others, and yet who had watched the ones who had feared him the most run past, oblivious, while he suffered alone. Torvis turned. "You all right back there, pilot?" "Yes, sir." Telkar's voice shook slightly. Darth Vader. "Hang on." Torvis sounded grim. "We're not out of this yet." The shuttle soared into open space. Telkar tensed, waiting for -something. Anything. Two bright orange-red laser bolts flashed past the windshield. "We're being tailed, sir!" Telkar leaned forward between the pilot and co-pilot seats involuntarily, pilot reflexes taking over. He might be a rookie, but he was good. "Blast! Half the Rebel fleet must be on us!" Dying, alone. No one but a single boy beside him. I saw Darth Vader die. "I've got it, pilot," Sadar snapped. He reached over, flipped power switches with breakneck speed. Torvis jammed the stick foward and the shuttle looped downward. "You need me to reroute shield power to lasers?" Torvis did not answer. "Shield power down ten percent," Telkar said. He pushed the terror down, clenched his fists. The Rebellion had taken everything. The Rebellion would pay. Black cape wrapped around him, smoking helmet neglected on the floor. Head a mass of scars. Telkar' hands clenched again and his breathing came harsh between his teeth. I saw Darth Vader die. "They're gaining, sir," said Sadar tightly. * * * * * "Pilot! Man the guns!" "Yes, sir." Torvis didn't spare a second glance at the kid as he disappeared into the laser controls. That boy was too young to be a pilot, he thought grimly as he swerved to port. Too young. He sure hoped the kid knew how to shoot. Two X-wings followed his maneuver, banking slightly to match his angle. Torvis jammed the control stick hard to starboard. "You get those jump coordinates set yet?" he barked. Sadar shook his head in frustration. "I just figured out how to work the blasted thing. Give me a second, will you?" Torvis opened his mouth to reply and twin red laser bolts lanced out from underneath the front viewport, shattered an incoming A-wing into a brilliant cloud of light. All right, so he'd give the kid that. "Set course for Kuat," he said. "They'll be loyal still." Sadar gave him a startled look but said nothing. Torvis eased the shuttle to starboard, giving the kid a chance to pick off some of the X-wings behind them with the rear turbolaser. Running into the hangar bay amidst a crowd of panicking naval officers, Torvis had kept his head. Escort shuttle. He'd known he needed an escort if he was to get away in one piece. Granted, he wasn't a great pilot, but he'd flown escorts before. And there had been one, empty, waiting. The last one. He headed straight for it. And he he'd seen the black cape, the black helmet. Limp in the arms of a boy who was trying desperately to drag the heavy body across the metal deck. Torvis had seen only a glimpse, but it had been enough. The bastard. Torvis had wished him dead when the explosions had started, wished with all his heart that Lord bloody Vader had gotten what he deserved. He reached over, slammed the throttle control down to half-speed, executed a downward spiral. The pusruing craft shot overhead and the red beams lanced out again, catching an X-wing straight in the engines, sending it to oblivion in a beautiful explosion, and sending another X-wing shearing off to starboard, one wing completely gone. "Check our status," he snapped to Sadar. The other trooper took a qauick glance over at the lighted readouts, skimmed through the list of targets. "Shields are down thirty percent. And the whole Reb navy is on our tail, sir." He looked over at Torvis, worry plain in his face. "Begging your pardon, sir, but I don't know how we're getting out of this one. I'm not a trained pilot, and neither are you." Torvis smiled tightly, wolfishly. He eased the shuttle into a tight spin. Most fitting. Most fitting that the one who had so many deaths on his soul should die alone. Torvis cursed Vader silently, wished the bastard eternal torment in what afterlife there was to come. It had been a good thing that Sadar had had this shuttle claimed first, engines already running on standby, or Vader's death might have cost Torvis his life. And it was a good thing they picked up that kid pilot too. "Never mind, trooper," he snapped. "Just ready those jump coordinates. We can't hold on much longer." Laser fire streaked out, slamming an X-wing in the underbelly. Fragments showered the viewport as the snubfighter spun out of control, exploded. Torvis jammed the throttle forward and streaked through the expanding cloud of debris. * * * * * He had to hand it to him, Sadar admitted. The kid was a hotshot with those guns. He checked the readouts, boosted power to lasers. Shields steady at sixty-seven percent. Another Rebel fighter exploded, nosecone torn off by the escort's lasers. He hadn't planned on passengers. The Death Star might have gone nova any minute and he had fired up the engines, intent on getting out of there before the battlestation exploded and took him with it. Then he'd seen Torvis crossing the bay and he'd known he couldn't just leave his commander there. And then, just as he'd begun to raise the ramp, he's seen the boy in the gray flight suit darting frantically across the hangar and felt pity. Sadar had seen the kid around a few times. But he couldn't remember his name. The shuttle jerked hard to port and back. Sadar kept his hands on the controls, tensely waiting for the hyperspace course to plot itself out. He thought he had seen, back there in the bay, through the smoke and falling metal and cut coolant lines, a figure half-carried, half-dragged towards one of the last remaining shuttles. He half-closed his eyes, trying to remember. But no. It couldn't be. Not Lord Vader. Vader was invincible, invulnerable, probably halfway across the galaxy by now planning a counterstrike. Sadar knew Vader had survived the first Death Star. Why not this one as well? He pushed the dying image from his mind, noticing the blinking light on the console. Vengeance would be sweet indeed, and with Lord Vader at its helm, the Empire would never lose. Under Vader's command, anything was possible. Anything. "Ready for the jump." Torvis nodded, steering clear of the last remaining fighters. "Strange. They seem to be breaking up." Sadar glanced at the readouts, felt his heart stop. "Good skies! It...it's gone!" "What-" Torvis' voice cut off in a strangled croak as he saw the readout, saw the pulsing nuclear energy expanding in all directions from the Death Star which no longer existed. Expanding towards them. "Punch it, Sadar! Now!" * * * * * Telkar heard the whine of engaging engines, felt the slight pull of a hyperspace jump take hold. He let go of the gun controls, slumping back against the seat. He didn't know how many he had destroyed, but no amount could ever make up for what the Rebels had done. The brilliant light of that last explosion, brighter than a thousand suns, lingered in his mind, filling it. Nothing. His throat felt scratchy and his eyes were dry. Once more he saw the black form on the deck, limp, lifeless. The old terror reared its head for a moment, then subsided. He felt blank, empty, drained. I saw Darth Vader die. A great tiredness came over him and he closed his eyes wearily. In his heart, he knew it was over. I saw the Empire die.