A rewrite of the first two scenes from Destiny I, Chapter 1.
CHAPTER ONE
One year later
The planet of Ord Radama was far from what one would consider a peaceful world. Although its marshes and wetlands had long since been overtaken by urban sprawl, this did nothing to address the thunder and lightning storms that plagued the planet. The capital city of Livien Magnus, named for a pre-Republic state, had gone through constant stages of destruction and rebuilding over the course of its long history, whether it be a result of natural causes or external forces. One could hardly fathom why anyone would want to live in such a place; the native Devlikks had such short lifespans that it hardly mattered to them.
Admiral Viic Argen held little regard for the planet. In the years he had spent stationed in the planet’s orbit aboard the Star Destroyer Recrimination, he had never once set foot on the planet and only knew of its nature from the ground forces under his command. Having been born and raised on Anaxes, Argen was used to a life of hard-earned luxury and did not care for the worn-down, underdeveloped planets that made up most of the Outer Rim Territories. While Ord Radama may have held some value of historical significance thanks to its status as an Ordnance/Regional Depot, it did little to change his perception of it, and he looked forward to the day when he would inevitably be called away from the system to do battle with Rebel forces.
Yes, rebels. He refused to acknowledge their recent declaration of a New Republic, not so long as Coruscant remained in Imperial hands. Yes, Sate Pestage had been removed from the throne, leaving the Empire in the stewardship of Director Ysanne Isard, and yes, the rebels had achieved quite a few victories against a number of Imperial warlords. But the warlords were just that: warlords. Opportunistic military men who thought they knew how to run the Empire better than the Ruling Council.
Still, they provided a useful distraction. With their forces stretched thin across the galaxy as they dealt with the likes of Zsinj, Delvardus and the Teradoc brothers, the rebels were unable to amass enough strength capable of taking Coruscant. So long as they remained preoccupied, then the Empire remained in safe hands.
Of course, there was one element that worried him. Over the past year, since the death of the Emperor, he had begun to worry that the man he served under was beginning to have the same delusions of grandeur as the warlords. As Moff of the Esstran sector, Nil Nihan was entrusted with overseeing a region of the Outer Rim that had been of great importance to the Emperor. Argen never really knew why, nor had it ever been in his position to ask. Yet Nihan had clearly allowed it to get to his head, especially in the wake of Endor. Recently, he had taken advantage of Grand Moff Nivers’ capture to declare himself Grand Moff of the Oversector that encapsulated Ord Radama and the Esstran sector, even as Zsinj moved to annex much of Nivers’ territory for his own little fiefdom.
While Zsinj had yet to make a move at Ord Radama, Argen worried that when that time came Nihan would either pledge himself to Zsinj’s forces or allow himself to be drawn into a spat with the warlord, becoming no better than the rest. Argen had no desire to follow such a fool, whether it be Zsinj or Nihan, and had every intent of fleeing to Coruscant should it ever come to that.
Until then, Argen would dutifully serve Nihan as he had for years. But that did not mean the Moff was entitled to his loyalty.
The admiral was broken away from his thoughts when a young ensign in the bridge’s crew pit spoke up to him. “Sir, an Imperial shuttle is requesting permission to dock.”
Argen glanced over at the officer while his second-in-command, Captain Vil Kirus, walked over to observe the ensign’s station. “Have they submitted a clearance code?”
“Yes, sir, but….”
The officer trailed off and Argen flashed him a glare of annoyance. “But what?”
“It checks out, but the shuttle itself does not appear to be registered in our system.”
Argen narrowed his eyes, looking down at the nervous officer. His hooked nose and overbearing command style had led to many to refer to him as “the Vulture Admiral” (not to his face, of course). Rather than take this as an insult, Argen wore this moniker like a badge of pride. After all, vultures always got what they want and showed no mercy to any who got in their way.
“What is that supposed to mean?” he growled.
Kirus saved the ensign from answering as he looked at the younger man’s monitor for himself. “The shuttle does not appear to be present on any official records. It is transmitting its transponder code as Omega-13, which does not appear in the registry.”
“Yet its clearance codes check out.” Argen tugged at the pointed white tuft of hair that formed his beard. “How intriguing….”
As he pondered on the matter, he noticed a new arrival on the bridge and stiffened slightly as he stood to attention. Moff Nihan, for all the grievances Argen had with him, was an imposing man. Standing at 2 meters tall, with broad shoulders and a full brown bears, the Moff’s presence commanded the attention of everyone around him. His footsteps seemed to echo like thunder as he strode across the bridge, approaching Admiral Argen with his head held high to make it clear that he was the one truly in command. The officers may answer ultimately to Argen, but Argen himself ultimately answered to Nihan.
Perhaps noticing the slight consternation on the admiral’s face, Nihan inclined his head towards Argen. “What is it?”
Argen explained the situation to him and Nihan wasted no time in providing his recommendation. “Let it aboard. I will greet them personally myself.”
Argen could not censor himself from a frown. “Moff, are you certain that is wise? We do not know who could be aboard the shuttle. For all we know, it could be carrying an assassin or a bomb.”
“Then whoever it is has a death wish,” Nihan said firmly. Without waiting for any further objections, he turned to depart for the hangar bay. Sighing ruefully to himself, Argen followed him, leaving Kirus in command of the bridge in his absence.
By the time they reached the hangar, the Lambda-class shuttle had already docked and a deployment of stormtroopers had been dispatched to surround it. Taking position behind the white-armored soldiers, Argen and Nihan watched as the shuttle lowered its boarding ramp, kicking up a cloud of steam that momentarily obfuscated its descending passenger. When it finally cleared, Argen was startled by what he saw.
The figure was clad in red robes, not unlike the Royal Guards that had once defended the Emperor, yet it was clearly not one of them. In fact, it was not even organic at all. The droid seemed to have the stature of a B1 model battle droid, yet its cranium had the appearance of a helmet with a smooth glass dome. It walked with purpose, making a straight beeline towards Moff Nihan, and was undeterred by the stormtroopers that had their blasters raised at it.
The droid came to a stop within five feet from Nihan, who appeared as befuddled by its appearance as Argen was. Then, the image of a face appeared within the droid’s glass dome, and Argen felt his heart skip a beat.
“Moff Nil Nihan,” the voice of the long departed Emperor Palpatine spoke from the droid. “If you are seeing this message, then it means I have perished… and that you have failed to protect me.”
Argen glanced at Nihan, and for the first time in his life saw the Moff’s composure falter. He knew that Nihan had idolized Palpatine; to hear such accusatory words were sure to be a blow to his ego.
“However,” the Emperor continued, “unlike others, you are still of great use to me. As governor of the Esstran sector, you have oversight over a collection of worlds that are of great… importance to me. Enclosed within this droid are coordinates to a hyperspace route that has been declared off-limits for two decades. Follow the route to a planet known as Korriban. Once there, this droid will provide you with your next directions.”
Nihan stared agape at the droid that bore the Emperor’s visage. “I… yes, Your Majesty. I shall do as you command.”
The image of the Emperor’s face dissolved and the droid held out a servo. Tentatively, Nihan extended a hand and the droid took it into its own. From its digits, it extended needles that pricked the Moff’s hand hard enough to draw blood, eliciting a wince from Nihan.
As it retracted its needles and lowered its hand, the droid intoned in a monotonic voice, “Blood sample accepted. The coordinates have been transmitted to your vessel’s main computer.”
Nursing his bleeding hand, Nihan turned his gaze to Argen, who met his eyes evenly. “Well then,” the Moff said. “Let us not keep him waiting.”
* * *
“I can’t accept this, Skywalker.”
“You have to, Admiral. Because I’m not taking it back.”
Admiral Gial Ackbar regarded Luke Skywalker with a look that he could only assume was the Mon Calamari equivalent of a frown. Luke had spent enough time serving under Ackbar to know when the admiral was not happy, and a part of him still felt guilty for having to do this. But he knew it was something he had to do, if only for his peace of mind.
“I hereby resign from service in the New Republic Defense Force.”
Ackbar sighed in a manner that suggested he had been expecting those words, even if he did not want to hear them. “This is about Mindor, isn’t it?”
Luke bowed his head, seeing no reason to withhold the truth. “Yes, sir.”
“Skywalker, you can’t blame yourself for what happened. Lord Shadowspawn was… unlike anything we had faced before. Just from the details of your report, I’m not sure how anyone—even a Jedi Knight such as yourself—could have defeated him any other way.”
Luke shook his head. “Even so, Admiral, I can’t in good consciousness continue serving after what happened on Mindor. All of those people are dead because of me.”
“Because of Shadowspawn,” Ackbar retorted. “He was the one who engineered everything to occur as it did.”
“And I could have stopped it. I should have stopped it.” Luke looked Ackbar directly in the eyes, his lips a firm line. “Were it anyone else, Admiral… if it wasn’t ‘General Skywalker’ standing before you here today and someone else, someone who isn’t a Jedi Knight… would you not demote them for their failure at Mindor?”
Ackbar opened his mouth but no words came from him. The Mon Calamari seemed to be at a loss for words. Not waiting for him to regain his composure, Luke turned to depart from the admiral’s office.
“It has been an honor to serve under you, Admiral,” Luke said sincerely. “And I will continue to aid the New Republic in any way I can. Just as it was the Jedi Knights’ duty to defend the Old Republic, so it will be mine to defend this one. But I realize now that Jedi are not meant to be soldiers. My duty lies elsewhere.”
These words seemed to at last deliver the point home as Ackbar nodded his head in acknowledgment. “I respect your decision, Skywalker, even if I don’t fully agree with it,” the Mon Calamari admiral said somberly. “I hope you find fortune in your future endeavors. May the Force be with you.”
Luke offered him a tired smile. “And with you, Admiral.”
As he made his way from the admiral’s office towards Home One’s hangar bay, Luke had hoped to feel the weight on his shoulders finally be lifted… and yet by the time he made it to his X-wing starfighter, he realized he didn’t feel any different now as he had before. The events of Mindor still weighed heavily on his mind and conscious, the screams of all those who had perished still fresh in his mind. He had made several attempts to meditate these troubled thoughts away, but it was difficult to concentrate with so much going on around him. Shadowspawn may have been defeated, but there were still other Imperial warlords for the New Republic to deal with, even as the prospect of retaking Coruscant from Imperial control loomed over them.
He needed to get away from it all. Somewhere that was secluded and far away from all the fighting. He briefly considered returning to Dagobah, which he had not returned to since Yoda’s passing, but quickly dismissed the thought. Dagobah was hardly an ideal world for peace and quiet, and it was a planet already steeped in the dark side if his vision in the cave was anything to go by. He needed somewhere new. Something different.
As he settled in the seat of his fighter, Luke brought up his navigation console to peruse the worlds logged into his database. The name of one planet immediately jumped out to him, although he wasn’t quite certain why.
Dantooine. He had been to the planet before; it had been where he and Red Squadron had rescued Tycho Celchu from Imperial custody shortly after the Battle of Yavin. There wasn’t much to the planet itself, having nothing much of interest besides farmland. It was also located within the Imperial splinter state known as the Pentastar Alignment, although they had little presence on the world itself; so thin were defenses that Lando Calrissian and his team of commandos had been able to steal a cloaked starfighter from Dantooine in order to use it in their own campaign against the Empire.
Despite having little of any interest in terms of strategic value, Dantooine’s name kept drawing Luke’s attention back to it even as he considered other worlds. Perhaps it was exactly the kind of planet he was looking for; a world so remote and out of the way that not even the Empire would bother him much there. Whatever the case was, it was clear that the Force was leading him there, and Luke saw no reason to ignore it.
Putting his flight helmet on, Luke started up his X-wing and plugged in the coordinates. Resting in his astromech socket, R2-D2 intoned a few chimes which were then translated onto Luke’s on-board translator. Luke smirked as he glanced at the translated script.
“I know there’s nothing on Dantooine,” he said. “That’s why we’re going there.”
R2-D2 continued to question his choice of destination and Luke simply shook his head.
“You need to relax. We’re owed a break every once in a while. Especially after the week we just had….”
R2-D2 let out a low tone, indicating his agreement. The astromech made no further objections as the X-wing lifted up and flew out of the Home One’s hangar. Once its hyperspace calculations had finished, it made the jump to lightspeed, heading for its new destination.
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