With a final clunk, the noises of hard-dock abate, leaving just the hum of air conditioning units and electrical systems. It seems unnaturally quiet after all the alarms, high thrust manoeuvring and main armament activity, intermixed with the occasional thump and bang as shields took hits from the enemy. A total engagement time for this phase of the operation: 6 minutes 23 seconds. Seemed like longer, but then things do when you're having fun.
It gets trickier from here on in. The run to Kessel was made exactly to schedule and, with small adjustments here and there, exactly to the planned course. A total of six hyperspace jumps with one placed close enough to a known deep space monitoring probe to provide just a hint of our incoming trajectory, giving the star-destroyer Armoured Evangelist just enough time to get wind of our arrival and intercept us as we came out of hyperspace, 0.2 AU from Kessel itself.
Just another hunk of junk, making the spice run in the hope of turning a tidy profit and not getting blasted while trying. Or so it seems.
But now the real mission begins.
Noises in the access way beyond my hiding space signal the imminent arrival of stormtroopers. Sure enough, a second later, the airlock door is blasted open and a unit of white suited 'troopers enter the ship.
The stormtroopers run past me and down the corridor towards the bridge and cargo space. I can sense that two remain stationed outside the airlock. There's some encrypted chatter back and forth between the troopers. Probably wondering where the crew are hiding (good luck with that - just little old me here!), and why the cargo hold is empty - except, that is, for the bomb on the cargo bay door.
I send a signal to the bomb to blow the device. The cargo bay has a big door, and there is pure vacuum outside, so the resultant explosive decompression is pretty impressive. Air screams through the airlock as that which is lost from the freighter is replaced by air from the star destroyer's dock-space. Within half a second the pressure loss condenses the moisture out of the air and visibility becomes a greyed-out zero.
Normally the dock's blast doors would automatically close to seal the breach, but I'm holding the nearest one open by an extension of Force.
Time to move. I come out of my hiding place and float out of the airlock against the raging current of air, stopping just inside the blast door to link to the Armoured Evangelist's network using a droid interface. At the moment I have all the advantages - the element of surprise, and a full set of schematics and illicit access override codes uploaded into my processor.
It takes me a fraction of a second to countermand the order the panicked ship sends to close all the blast doors on the dock level, and another couple of seconds to upload a hijacking routine to the destroyer's internal comms network that allows me to remain linked to the ship without a physical connection. As soon as it's done, I'm off.
The fog clears as the remaining atmosphere in the dock space fades to vacuum. The blast doors are still open in the dock but air has stopped escaping, so someone with their wits about them must have manually activated the blast door beyond dock space. A few stormtroopers are revealed, scrabbling around, clutching their throats and generally suffocating. Threat risk is low. As I move down the access way, I transmit one of my purloined codes that gives me access to the Armoured Evangelist's core AI and begin uploading a set of instructions that are so large, it will take a full 10.68 seconds to complete.
There are things to do before the upload is finished.
The best kind of plans have plenty of resilience built in. If something goes wrong - an objective not possible to achieve, say, or an attack beaten off - then you need to switch seamlessly to the next priority, or attempt an already thought-out alternative tactic to achieve your primary aims. This plan - the one I'm following now - doesn't have that. This is a one chance only, blink and it's gone dash-for-glory attempt that the highly annoying C3 unit back at Polis Massa kept telling everyone who would listen had only a three-point-two percent chance of success. Cretin. What does it matter when your mission is almost certainly going to end in your death, even if it succeeds?
Anyway - back to business. I'm at the closed blast doors between dock space and ship interior. No application of the Force will open these now they are locked shut. Brute force is what's required. Blasters are no good ('blast' doors, remember?) and so I rely on my other particular weapon - a light sabre. Not your normal, Jedi issued sabre though. Being a droid means I have certain, ahem, advantages over my biological brethren. Massive parallel processors in a really tiny space mean I have the ability to build three dimensional shapes in real time out of my sabre-generator ports - from lance like projections to a fully-enclosing (but sensor-blinding) sphere out to two meters from case exterior. In training there was no way a single sabre-wielding Jedi could best me in one-on-one combat. And as for stormtroopers...
Lighting up a lance from a 'sabre port I push through the blast door; globs of molten metal and carbon-diamond composites bounce and fizzle all over the floor, then I extend the sabre's circumferential dimensions outwards to form a hollow cylinder through which I can fit. Another vortex blasts through the hole as air rushes in to fill the void in the dock space. Strangely enough, resistance on the other side is more concerned with breathing than taking careful aim. I'm through and away and off down the Armoured Evangelist's keel lateral access way that leads directly to engineering space.
When I'd reviewed the stolen designs for this class of star-destroyer, it had been with a sense of awe and incredulity that I'd seen the keel lateral access way. Just over two thousand meters long from where I'd entered it, and a dead straight line from docks to just one bulkhead away from engineering, it offered an almost laughably easy route to the decks directly beneath operations, weapons control, communications and command.
A pulsed laser-ranging shot down to the far end of the access way confirms a distance of 2032.56 meters from my position to the far end, and no obstructions in my path. All blast doors are open (no one has thought to manually close any - yet), and I make sure ship keeps it that way. I push up to maximum speed, passing through the sound barrier less than a second later, at which point the balance of available Force vs. resistance is achieved. A small object travelling at at 343.2 meters per second through a corridor makes for a hard target, but a few plucky 'troopers have a go. They all miss. Stormtroopers and droids scatter and tumble in the shock wave behind me. A few fall from the access way into the keel space beneath. I can't resist taking a look through one of the Armoured Evangelist's security cameras as I pass ... pretty awesome, if I say so myself.
Exactly 4.98 seconds after setting off I begin braking, at the same time sending a spread of stuttered x-ray laser pulses a nanometer wide at the bulkhead wall. The bulkhead gives way in a shower of sparks, heat and light, and with a shrewd nudge with my shields, a diamond shaped section gives way and tumbles to the floor leaving a space just large enough for me to fit through. As I come to a stop inside the bulkhead wall and begin to make my way upwards, the upload of illicit code I started earlier completes. I execute the code, sending all access overrides I possess to make the Armoured Evangelist think it's being given commands by a Grand Admiral, and hope that by the time I reach the top the instructions have done their work. Things might get a little hot otherwise.
As I negotiate through a maze of ducting, pipework, power conduits and thick, glowing bundles of optic waveguide cables, I hear alarms through the bulkhead wall. That can only mean the Captain has authorised the activation of the secondary internal defence system (thoroughly independent of the Armoured Evangelist's own systems, and therefore immune to my fiddling). Enforcer droids will now be let loose on a shoot-to-kill engagement protocol. I tangled with a K series some years ago and they make for pretty tricky opponents, with lightning fast target-and-fire routines. Far more accurate than your average biological stormtrooper. Better be careful.
By the time I reach the level of the weapons control deck, space is getting tight. I'm having to move things around to keep heading upwards. Progress is slow. It's 36 seconds since I left the airlock. I'm behind schedule. Like a Siche-Tick bite making its host Worrt subservient to its parasitic whim, the illicit code has the Evangelist's AI under my command - at least for the next several minutes or so, until someone realises what's happened and reboots the ship's dyanamid quantum-core processors.
I hope the courier makes it on time...
***
"How's it looking Chewie?"
The big wookie takes his eyes off the navigation screen for a moment, cocks his head to one side and let out a wavering howl that leaves Han in no doubt that his co-pilot is unconvinced by their chosen course.
A lopsided smile spreads across Han's face as he stares out at the blue hyper-spacial star-scape through which the Millennium Falcon spears towards Kessel. "I know Pal, but just the bonus alone for this trip will easily pay off all our debts with the Hutts. It's worth a little risk don't you think?"
Chewbacca looks again at the crazy human, and wonders once more if his decision to take up the offer of business partner and co-pilot had been a good one. His own race was renown for its fierceness in battle, and no-one would dare question his bravery if they wished to retain their motile appendages. Humans in general were a strange lot, too much concerned with messy, distracting emotions and often shy when it came to battle. Not this one though. Behind the innocent and friendly demeanour was a being with genuine fight and a streak of loyalty that rivalled even that of his own clan members.
This particular human, however, was reckless. Very, very reckless. According to the nav computer, the course they’re taking will get them from Forrnos to Kessel in only four jumps, a total distance of just under 12 parsecs. The straight line course (at current orbital alignments) measures only 10.67 parsecs. Normally, to avoid crashing into one of the various debris fields, asteroid belts and black holes that litter space between the two worlds, a ship would have to make numerous jumps, changing course wildly each time to avoid running into something. A typical run to Kessel covered a distance of 16 to 18 parsecs. Twelve was practically a straight line.
They were probably going to die.
Chewbacca lets out another howl and looks questioningly at Han.
"Well," says Han, "He was very certain that this course would work. He told me a ship left months ago to map out the asteroid belts and this course was perfectly safe. Besides, why give me bad information if it means he'd lose the cargo?" Han gave Chewbacca another of his winning smiles. "We'll be making the last jump in a short while. Why don't you check our package is ready for delivery?"
Chewbacca leaves the flight deck and makes his way back to the cargo hold, murmuring his displeasure and concern all the way. In the hold, nestled amongst the machine parts they would trade on Kessel for spice, was the thing the man who'd chartered their services back in a bar in Spicant had given them to transport. Chewbacca pulls off a dirty cargo cover to reveal a battered, deactivated R2 astromech unit. Bending down to release the retaining straps, Chewbacca reads the model designation near the edge of the rounded top of the droid, 'R2-D2' it said. Well, R2-D2 is destined for a bizarre journey, thinks Chewbacca as he pulls it over to the starboard escape airlock, pushes the droid inside, and readies the lock for release.
***
A sound below draws my attention. Hmm. Something is coming up after me. By the sound of it, it's an Enforcer droid. The Enforcer is much larger than me, so it's having to move a lot more stuff out of the way. While I can easily stop it, it's probably broadcast my position to its comrades, and right now they will be making their way to the weapons control deck and command deck above to meet me. It looks certain a firefight will have to be fought soon if I'm to achieve my goal.
I eject an antimatter mine one millimetre in diameter out of my casing and direct it down the route I came from, timing it to reach the climbing droid and detonate a fraction of a second after I laser my way out of the bulkhead into the weapons control deck. Emerging from the wall in a shower of sparks, there is a moment of immobility on the part of the black suited men on watch, one lieutenant in particular open mouthed and staring in amazement at my sudden appearance. This comical tableau is shattered as the mine reaches the climbing droid and detonates, sending a shock-wave through the fabric of the ship and a blinding flash of pure white light through the hole behind me. The lieutenant drops to the floor blinded, but the weapons officers in their anti-flash helmets are not so afflicted. Side arms are drawn and fired with surprising rapidity.
I'm already moving through the room, using both my shields and 'sabre to deflect the incoming plasma bolts. Those I deflect using the sabre I send back in the direction it comes from. Others bounce off my shields and ricochet off the walls, floor and ceiling. Shouts of alarm, grunts of pain, bright flashes, smoke and the familiar chemical markers of ozone and burnt flesh begin to fill the space as I head towards the exit. An Enforcer droid appears in the doorway, levelling its weapon at me, but I throw it aside using the Force and tumble out into the access-way. There is open space beyond, and it is a simple matter of clearing the anti-fall field barrier and head upwards to the deck above, where closed armoured doors prevent access to the command deck.
Movement to the right and left give away the presence of several Enforcers, backed up by white suited stormtroopers heading in my direction. It is now 62 seconds since commencement of hostilities in the dock. According to my chronometers, there are 306 seconds remaining until the earliest arrival of the courier. Once I'm inside the command deck, the final phase can begin. Before I do that, I need to even the odds. I send an instruction to the Armoured Evangelist, then shunt my cognitive processing routines from a quantum state matrix to a biomechanical substrate. I can access solid state memory still, but my processing speed will be way slower. However - needs must...
The Armoured Evangelist carries out my orders, over-rides the safeties on sixty high-capacity EMP ordnance pods in the fighter bay arsenal and detonates them. The resultant EMP blasts take out all droids on board, effectively knocking them unconscious until their systems reboot. Across the ship, all Enforcers, astromechs and service droids go still, offline. It will take several minutes for them to come up to full system readiness. Even if they do, I could tell the Evangelist to detonate another batch of EMPs.
Because I'm in biological processing, things are ... slow. I'm protected from the EMP, but my thinking speed is now that of a human. That puts them at less of a disadvantage, but unless I run into Darth Vader himself, I reckon I'm the one with all the aces. Anyway, onward and upward. Admiral Graad awaits...
***
"What do you mean, they're all disabled!"
Admiral Graad looks down his long nose at Captain D'Horza, whose face turns an even paler shade of grey than normal as he stares up at the imposing visage of his superior.
"It seems... It seems that our own ship set off an EMP charge that took down all the droids on board, sir." Captain D'Horza pulls at his collar and glances at the chaos around him as his officers try to make sense of what was going on and what had become of their ship's AI. "I fear that the attacking force has, somehow, taken over the ship and is using it against us!"
"Fate's end, how is that possible?" Admiral Graad didn't expect Captain D'Horza to answer. He knew himself that such a thing was unheard of in the history of the Empire. Bangs and thumps on the command deck's blast doors heralded the arrival of their foe. How had they got here from the docks so quickly? Chatter from the radios and officers around him seemed to imply that a single assailant - possibly a droid of some kind - had been the cause of all this. One lieutenant nearby was questioning a subordinate on a comms link, asking them repeatedly if they were sure of what they had seen. The word 'light sabre' was used several times.
Admiral Graad began to get that cold, sinking feeling he always had when in the presence of Lord Vader. Surely not, he thought. They were all destroyed decades ago, weren't they?
With a shuddering groan the blast doors twist inwards and open slightly, just enough to let a roughly diamond shaped device the size of a disembodied head into the command deck, whereupon it floats along the deck directly toward him. For a moment, a vivid fiery-red glow is visible beyond the blast doors before they slam shut, cutting off the carnage beyond. Everyone in the room is frozen, seemingly unable to act. Faces peer up from the stations below as the invader-droid beelines towards their Admiral.
"Greeting, Admiral Graad," the droid says in clear, Imperial Basic, coming to a halt a few meters away.
Admiral Graad raises a quivering hand and points at the droid. "I know what you are! An Abomination!"
"Touche, Admiral. Although it pleases me that you recognise me for what I am."
"It's impossible! Your kind were all destroyed, years ago!"
"It's true. Most of us were. In fact, I am the last, and, I'm sure you'll be glad to hear, soon to be no more."
Admiral Graad lowers his arm and looks quizzically at the droid.
"Vader was most persistent in his pursuit of the droid-Jedi,” it says. “As an experiment, we were rather good at what we did. But he needn't have bothered. We were all getting far too old for this sort of thing, even then. The melding of midichlorians and machine was not a happy experiment. Much of the time it is torment to us. Most of my kin long ago took death as a welcome release. I will soon follow them. But first, I have a task to complete."
Admiral Graad looks askance, wondering what this strange abhorrent mix of machine and biology could want from him.
Then, unbidden, the thing he least wanted to divulge, the secret he'd buried deep within him came clear in his mind, even as he struggled to resist the growing pressure around his neck.
"No, not that! You can't have that!" he croaks, as he is lifted bodily from the ground. But those possessed of the Force were always very persuasive, and in the end, Admiral Graad can’t resist. He tells the droid everything it wants to know.
***
The Armoured Evangelist tells me it has detected the signature of a ship's hyperdrive collapsing its singularity field. It's time. I drop the Admiral’s unconscious body to the deck, then give the Armoured Evangelist its last instructions and heave an inward sigh of relief.
Death will be a blessing.
***
"Hold on, Chewie! Twenty seconds until we drop out of hyperspace. Is the package ready?"
Chewbacca howls a brief acknowledgement and readies the airlock release.
"As soon as it's on it's way, we make for the rendezvous. Wouldn't want to run into any trouble this close to the mines, not with all the Imperial activity round here lately." Han gives Chewbacca one of his sly grins and slaps his co-pilot on the shoulder. "Ok, here we go..."
The Millennium Falcon's nav computer dis-engages the hyperdrive and the star field collapses to a real-space view. Immediately a target alert begins blaring. Chewbacca roars his surprise and alarm.
"I know, I see it!" Han begins powering up deflector shields and puts the Falcon into a hard turn. Close by their exit point is a vast glowing cloud of debris, expanding rapidly outwards in a blossoming petal shape. Bits of twisted metal and ceramic shoot past the hull and impact the shields, but fortunately the largest parts miss by several kilometres. Chewbacca hits the airlock release, and the old, battered astromech inside joins the expanding nebula of wreckage.
"From the size of it, I'd say that until a few moments ago, that was a star-destroyer. What the hell happened to it?" Han looks at Chewbacca, who shrugs in reply.
"You know what, never mind," says Han. "Let's get out of here." Han pushes the throttles to maximum, heading directly away from the last resting place of the Armoured Evangelist toward the relative safety of Kessel itself.
***
Signal received from Outer Rim Sector - source location triangulated to near Kessel orbit. Decoded by Alliance milcom at station Polis Massa
[Note: Encrypted code stream from high gain directional transmitter - likely source: Imperial Class Star-Destroyer]
Begins: Mission codename 'Kessel Gambit' objective achieved. Information extracted from primary target. Auto-destruct of Star Destroyer 'Armoured Evangelist' made at courier arrival. Transfer of Death Star plans to infiltrator-spec astromech 'R2-D2' achieved using low power blast-hardened transmitter following auto-destruct; thereby preventing signal interception by Imperial monitoring station 'Jorrudor'. R2-D2 astromech will broadcast a low power distress signal on 121.5Mhz for Rebel Alliance pick-up in debris field. If Imperial or non-Alliance intercept results, R2-D2 will await further instruction from Alliance milcom. ENDS.
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