“I thought you said it was a compact cloaking device,” Han says. “If the Falcon’s power core can’t handle it, you’d need a frigate, and that’s hardly compact.”
“Perhaps -“
“Let’s take a look,” Han insists. “What harm can it do?”
“How do I know you’ll return it?”
The smuggler smiles. “You have my word on it.”
Sodarra sighs. “Very well. I’ll meet you in the cargo hold. I must inform my men, or they will think you are stealing it.”
“Fair enough,” Han says.
Both men leave the cockpit. Han stops by the flight computer and gets Chewbacca, then goes to the cargo hold and activates the ceiling illumination. A black plasteel crate, nearly four meters high and five meters wide, sits in the middle of the hold. A long seam runs down the center. Han and Chewie carefully inspect the latches.
“Open it, Captain Solo,” calls Sodarra. “There are no security locks.”
Han looks toward the bulkhead door. Sodarra stands in the entrance with two troopers. All three carry blaster rifles. The engineering station bulkhead opens and three more stormtroopers enter. They, too, are armed.
“Why the blaster rifles?” Han demands. “I thought we had a deal!”
“Open it,” Sodarra insists.
Han shrugs, then releases the latches. He and Chewbacca pull the crate open about a meter. Inside rests a TIE cockpit.
“The Empire can cloak fighters?” the smuggler questions. He turns to face Sodarra. “Do you know how much the Alliance will pay for this prototype?”
“Perhaps you should inspect it further,” Sodarra says.
Han returns his attention to the crate and steps into the narrow opening. It is dark, though some light slips into the crate via the opened seam. The hair on his neck bristles with – is it anticipation or fear? He circles the cockpit; it does not look unusual, save that the support pylons have been severed close to the body. Han climbs up on one of the pylon stumps and peers inside.
A man sleeps in the pilot’s seat. The Corellian presses his face against the viewport. He can make out the shape of a head – no, a helmet. A broad neck-guard flares down from the back of the brim, framing what Han cannot yet see of the face. He wants to say that the armored helm is black, but that is not quite accurate. An aura of blackness hangs about the helmet, defying the ceiling illuminators to touch light to this particular head.
Han continues to stand on the pylon. A breathing screen hides the sleeper’s face. Like the helmet, the screen is completely dark. It is a grotesque parody of a face. Where there should be eyes, there are two hollows. A terrible darkness looks out from those soulless holes.
There should be a nose. Instead, a flat, circular area suggests a grotesque deformity. Below that protrudes a triangular filter resembling nothing quite so much as a grinning mouthful of fangs.
Unaccountably, the smuggler trembles. “It can’t be!” he whispers. The air seems suddenly stifling and foul, as if the essence of evil has penetrated the cockpit’s airtight seals and is seeping into the close confines of the plasteel box. Han stumbles out of the crate, pale and gasping. He feels afraid in a way he has never known fear before. But his body is reacting to more than fear – he feels polluted, as if standing so close to Vader has covered his body with a film of corruption.
“Being a friend of Leia Organa,” Sodarra says, “you no doubt recognize Darth Vader?”
Chewbacca roars in alarm. Four stormtroopers raise their weapons to firing position.
“That’s no cloaking device!” Han exclaims. “You lying Khonian slime crab!”
Sodarra smiles. “Flattery just might save your life, Solo.”
“What’s going on here?” Han demands. “Why are you running from the Eradicator?”
“Political differences,” Sodarra explains amicably. “Governor-General Vellam envies our commander’s influence with the Emperor. The destruction of the Death Star worsened the situation.”
“How so?” Han asks.
“The battle of Yavin occurred in Vellam’s sector. As punishment, the Emperor placed five of Vellam’s most productive planets under Vader’s administration -“
“How did he know Vader lived?” the pilot demands.
“Like Lord Vader, the Emperor has his ways,” Sodarra says. “But he may have underestimated Vellam’s spite.”
“Or overestimated Vader’s chance. He’s nearly dead.”
“The Emperor has assured us he is merely dormant,” Sodarra says. “He will awaken when we open the cockpit.”
“So why haven’t you opened it?” Han asks.
“Indeed, why not?” Sodarra echoes. “I have answered enough questions. Let us say Vellam has done all he can to prevent our success. You, Captain Solo, will do all you can to ensure our success – you will take us to our agent on Shador.
The smuggler shakes his head. “Fly yourself.”
Sodarra smiles. “We would, but Lieutenant Birdloe informs me you have placed certain security programs in the flight and nav computers.”
“Sharp guy,” Han comments. “But I’m not changing my mind.”
Sodarra smiles. “If you do, I may let you live.”
Han hesitates.
“The Wookiee will die first. It will be slow and painful.”
“When you put it that way,” answers the pilot, “we’d better start new astrogation calculations.”
Sodarra orders two men to escort Han and Chewbacca to the cockpit. As Han makes preparations for dropping out of hyperspace, Chewie stares vacantly ahead. Lt. Birdloe stands behind them, his blaster rifle leveled at the Corellian’s head.
“Aaaroogh, eeooogh,” Chewbacca says at last.
“What did he say?” the stormtrooper demands.
“That we need to fix the transmission channel,” Han lies. What Chewbacca has actually said is, ‘I can build a bomb.’
“Forget that,” Birdloe orders. “The Eradicator is too far behind to pick up on the signal.”
“You ever been to Shador?” Han asks.
The lieutenant shakes his head.
“I didn’t think so. If we don’t fix that transmitter, we’ll be praying for the Eradicator to show. Shador is the pirate’s version of Ord Mantell.”
“Okay,” Birdloe says.
The pilot removes his wrist chronometer. “Aaarrogh.”
“He says two hours, tops,” Han lies. The Wookiee actually says he will wire the fuse into Han’s chronometer.
Bridloe assigns a man to accompany Chewbacca. “I’d advise that guy to stand a few feet away,” Han warns. “Wookiees tend to tear things up when they get frustrated. It’s a racial flaw.”
“Thanks for the warning.” Birdloe passes the smugglers words onto the guard. Han smiles. Now he has only to attach the bomb to Vader’s cockpit. No problem; all he needs is a plan. He can purposefully program an emergency hyperspace dropout into the nav computer, then attempt to attach the bomb during the resulting confusion. It will probably take Sodarra a few seconds to realize that the dropout may be a diversion. The question is, can the Corellian attach the bomb before Sodarra gets wise to him?
His other option is going to the engineering station to make some repairs, sneaking into the power core ventilation grill, then entering the cargo bay through the service access panel. Although this plan gives the Imperials no reason to believe anything is amiss, Han suspects it is the riskier of the two. Sodarra certainly expects the smugglers to attempt something, and his stormtroopers are disciplined enough to stay alert for the tiniest noise in the cargo bay.
If Han programs a hyperspace dropout into the nav computer, Click Here
If Han sneaks into the cargo bay through the power core ventilation grid, Click Here