Cloud City,
BespinUnmistakably, Two had repeatedly turned his helmeted head towards Dej, casting what might be considered an uncertain look at him. This was most unnatural behavior for a Conclave Executor, Dej knew, and so, for the first few moments, he simply ignored it.
The halls were, for the most part, utterly deserted, and filled only with the sound of that repeating message, blaring to every inch of Cloud City: “
Attention, attention. This is the Administrator of this facility. The occupying forces have critically damaged Cloud City’s reactor…”
Dej glanced around a corner, and then beckoned Two forward. Seemingly, he had a great deal of experience at this sort of shadow-lurking, presumably from a long history of seeking the story at all costs. Two’s stealth skills were also highly developed, but he lacked a certain empathy and intuition that Dej possessed. Yes, it certainly would be unfortunate.
One of the Executor’s claws slid silently from its sheath as he quickened his step, approaching the exposed back of the INS agent. Yes, it would be quick, and painless. After all, he did not deserve this…
Did not deserve this?Did not he deserve it merely because Theren Gevel had willed it so? The master had spoken and he would answer. That was how it worked. That was how it was
supposed to work. These thoughts were not even supposed to be occurring. There was no thought involved, only obedience. Only obedience.
The wrist claw slid back into its sheath.
Dej glanced back, again, and they continued on. Cloud City shuddered beneath them, shifting lower in a very tangible way. “We’re almost there,” the INS agent commented somewhat nervously.
Two did not respond for a moment. “Everything is prepared onboard the Blastboat?”
“Yes.”
“All that you will need?”
“Yeah.”
* * * * *
Taloraan City,
TaloraanOne slashed downward one last time, not with viciousness, nor with remorse; simply cold, determined cunning. Til had put up more of a fight than had been anticipated. But the necessity for his permanent silence had been implied in Theren Gevel’s clear orders; no word was to escape.
He needn’t actually leave Taloraan City; in fact, it was imperative that he did not. Duty required of him that he stay. But the Skipray Blastboat was equipped with
The Executor detected minor abdominal bruising and some lacerations to the chest, caused by the vibroblade Til had pulled. Nothing of consequence. The time lost fighting Til had been more important, and it was with a hurried step that One now left the room, and rushed towards the landing platform.
Perhaps it was mild exhaustion from the fight. Perhaps it was the hurry he was in. Perhaps it was the injuries having their effect. But One never really noticed the shapeless shadow as he passed it. Nor did he notice it, as it slipped out behind him, seeming to change form into some sort of alien beast. One never even knew precisely what beast it had changed into. A Wookiee, perhaps. The time during which he was actually cognizant was not great enough to determine that.
He was one conscious of the claws, as they slid into his back, and the breaking of his bones, and the damage done by that fateful bone fragment, as it slid into his Yevethan heart. In seconds, he reached out with his implant, touching the waiting Skipray Blastboat. Its engines had already been warming, and it took off.
And then, as his suit’s very small amount of carefully packaged and armored baradium was triggered by a simple thought, he was conscious of nothing at all. In seconds, his body was obliterated.
* * * * *
Cloud City,
Bespin“Why do you keep looking at me like that?”
Two glanced away, as he hit several more buttons on the Skipray Blastboat’s console very quickly. The city now shuddered every few seconds beneath them, the occasional explosion ringing in the distance, and hundreds of ships visible above, departing.
“Two?” Dej asked again.
“It does not matter. I trust you know the way back to Coruscant?”
Dej blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I cannot go. I must ensure the operation is carried out as planned.”
“Two,” Dej said, rushing down the length of the narrow ship, hitting a few consoles as he went. “You can’t be serious. There’s no point. Not even the Emperor himself could stop this thing from going down now.”
“Duty demands of me what it demands of me,” Two replied, the hatch sliding hydraulically aside before he stepped through it. He glanced back again. Though his eyes and face were hidden by his helmet, there was something about the cant of his head, his posture…
“
Why do you keep looking at me like that?”
A sound Dej had not heard from the voice replication speakers in Two’s suit came forth; a sigh. “Do you not understand?” He asked in his metallic voice. “You, too, were scheduled for termination. One and I decided that everyone involved must be eliminated, including ourselves, if only to ensure that the plan was executed to its finale.”
Dej’s eyes narrowed. “You were going to fu
cking kill me?”
Two lowered his head. The city shook violently. “I could not. The ship is equipped with advanced automation; it is only by unhappy coincidence that you are able to pilot it to Imperial Center yourself. I have failed, in that respect, but I do not need to fail in this one.”
“No!” Dej shouted. “Get the fu
ck on this fu
cking ship
now, or it isn’t taking off.”
“I can kill you and send it on its way.”
“You already said it; you can’t kill me,” Dej said. “You’re not like the others, Two. You don’t have to fu
cking be like the others.”
Two looked away. “You do not understand.” His claws slid from their sheaths. Now, Cloud City shook more and more with every passing second, a violent earthquake rattling beneath them, as if a volcano were about to erupt. The Executor raised his arm, preparing to plunge his claw into Dej’s chest.
The human simply met his gaze firmly, standing his ground. “You won’t kill me, Two.”
They stood that way, the Conclave Executor with his claw threateningly raised, for several moments. Finally, Two lowered his arm.
And stepped on the Skipray Blastboat.
* * * * *
BespinWith one final, grandiose demonstration of bravado, the failed engines of Cloud City gave one last heave of fire, filling the atmosphere below it with an orange glow. More and more ships streamed away from it, thousands upon thousands evacuating. Many had escaped. Some had not. But at this point, it was far too late.
Instead of exploding, the great floating city began to slowly lose its altitude. At first, it was a gradual process, wind resistance and residual anti-gravitational forces slowing its descent to what seemed like a crawl. But in moments, it had accelerated, Cloud City diving down into the endless clouds of Bespin.
Those departing vessels quickly lost sight of her as she disappeared into those billowing clouds. And slowly, but surely, pressure on the falling city increased as it tumbled down near the end of the safe zone within Bespin’s atmosphere. It began to implode, durasteel crumpling in upon itself, buildings that had once housed women and children crumbling in on themselves.
Then, as Cloud City reached the very border of gas which separated the hospitable safe zone from the swirling vortex of nothingness below, the pressure at last became too great, its remaining reactor fuel, tibanna and other gases having been compressed too much, its mechanical inner workings dangerously manged.
And it exploded.
But a vessel like Cloud City does not simply explode. It does not simply combust and disappear into a cloud of vapor. Larger than most spacecraft, and loaded with a variety of powerful equipment and the most dangerous gasses in the universe, it went of with the force of hundreds of hydrogen bombs, all of its many explosive properties feeding off one another until the blast had grown to a size multitudinous to the station’s former volume.
From it, shot the most brilliant light and greatest emission of heat that Bespin’s atmosphere had ever seen.
Much had been said of the volatility of tibanna gas. But little had been done to test those theories until then, until the very thing that causes the precious gas to react tore through a great deal of Bespin’s lower safe-zone – energy. Heat, and light, in vast quantities.
Lucky it was for the ships still escaping Bespin that tibanna did not permeate the whole of the gas giant’s atmosphere, or they would likely have been obliterated as well. But the small pockets of tibanna gas that were anywhere in the general proximity of that massive blast went off, like candles lit by a forest fire. More heat and light shot through the atmosphere, penetrating the clouds that surrounded the pockets of tibanna.
Scientists would, for years to come, argue over the exact amount of time it took to happen. Some would argue minutes. Others, dozens of minutes. But there was little mistaking that from orbit, a dark cloud seemed to billow forth in small pockets of Bespin’s atmosphere, as pockets of tibanna continued to erupt.
When it was over, almost all of the precious gas that had once been Bespin’s claim to fame, was utterly spent.
And away from the mammoth world, with the thousands of civilian ships and thousands more military vessels, crept a Skipray Blastboat, its flight covered by the mass exodus. In moments, it was beyond Bespin’s atmosphere. Most of the fleet that had once threatened the world was now gone. In a few more minutes, the Skipray had jumped from the system.
