14: The Betrayal

ABOARD THE SUPER STAR DESTROYER EXECUTOR

ONE WEEK PRIOR…

The bay where Ageless Void sat was quiet. It was dark, just one overhead light, and there was the distant hum of the air-recyclers. He was joined by just two others—Commander Hej Zumter and an M-P3O military protocol droid, the latter of which was performing last-minute checks of all their tactical equipment.

Ageless was not easily excitable, he had been trained to remain calm and collected no matter what the situation. But even he felt the thrill of the moment. This could be it. The end of the war. And he could very well be the one to fire the final shot.

Zumter sat on the bench across from him, waving the M-3PO droid away, preferring to do his own equipment checks. “This has got to be the last one for me,” he groused, checking the power pack of his blaster. The older man’s black beard was spackled with gray, and he scratched at it pensively. “Especially if we crush their leadership today. I can’t be involved in anymore cleanup.”

“You really think the Alderaanian princess will be with them?” Ageless said, tightening the tactical belt around his waist. “We’ve missed her six different times already.”

“Seven. There was a false piece of intel on Serenno you don’t know about.”

“Seven, then.”

“We’re pretty sure she’s there,” said Zumter. “The shield generator the probe droid detected is a DSS-02, and that kind of thing needs loads of power, which means a few main reactors. We think they’ll be using the reactors they took from a derelict Praetor-class battlecruiser. Intelligence suggests the Rebs found the cruiser eight months ago and cannibalized it. Her Highness was reportedly one of those involved in the raid on the derelict.”

Ageless smiled. Her Highness had become a sardonic way of referring to Leia Organa, a joke because her whole planet was destroyed. Ageless had heard alternating accounts of why the destruction of Alderaan was necessary, everything from they were beginning to fire on the Death Star—which seemed impossible since they had no serious offensive capability—to the story that it was simply a way to destroy one of the largest known Rebel cells in the galaxy before they could enact some ultimate weapon.

Ageless did not know if he believed any of it. It was all Tarkin’s doing, and even people within the Empire were starting to question just how long of a leash the Emperor was willing to give that one, and if he had made a mistake in giving it.

“Do we have a greenlight to kill her?” he asked.

Zumter holstered his blaster and shook his head. “No, this isn’t a decapitation strike, old friend. There are certain ones we can do without—the pilots, any of the smugglers that may be still helping them—but leadership wants Her Highness alive. Along with another one.” Zumter produced his personal reach-pad and showed the written order to Ageless.

After reading it with mounting interest, he looked up at Zumter, confused. “They still want the farm boy alive?”

“That’s what leadership says.”

“I thought they’d want him dead, if only because he’s supposedly the one that took out the Death Star.”

“You and me both, my friend. You and me both. But leadership seems to believe he and Her Highness might be able to provide key intel. And, of course, Lord Vader needs something from the farm boy.”

Ageless nodded. “I’ve heard the rumor. Any idea why Vader wants farm boy?”

“Who knows?” He pointed at Ageless and smiled. “So remember, no disintegrations.”

They both chuckled.

Ageless said, “But do we even know what farm boy looks like?”

“No. No one has pictures of this Skywalker kid. We know he’s Human, blond, and a good pilot. So if you see anyone that fits that description, set for stun.”

Ageless nodded. He looked at his mentor. “Are you really done after this op?”

“Why not? Gotta retire sometime, right?” He was about to say something else when his wristpad chimed. He looked at the opscreen, read a brief update, and nodded. “Looks like we’re going in with the AT-ATs, dropping in with the snowtroopers. You about ready?”

Ageless gave his body armor a bit of a tug, making sure it was nice and snug. “Ready.”

“Here’s to one last go-around. Let’s make it count.”

“Copy that,” Ageless said. He noticed that Zumter let him go first. That struck him as odd. Zumter always took point. He dismissed the observation and headed for the main hangar bay to load up in a walker.

* * *

ABOARD AT-AT 008-17A

ON THE SURFACE OF HOTH

“Yes, Lord Vader,” General Veers said. “I’ve reached the main power generators. The shield will be down in moments. You may start your landing.”

Ageless stood in the corridor just behind the general, listening to him give the final order to target the main shield generator. He looked behind at Zumter, who stood beside a sensor station, listening in on a sensor officer’s headset. He looked up at Ageless and said, “It’s going to be a real hot zone in there. Apparently, the Rebels dug themselves in deeper than a nest of grevezzic hornets.”

Ageless nodded, reflexively checking the tactical hip holster and its blaster. “Small arms fire expected?”

“Yes. So far, their major weapons have been aimed uselessly at the AT-AT’s legs. You and I will deploy just after Veers takes out those generators. The rest of these troopers will continue on ahead, towards the mountains.” He gestured to the snowtroopers in back. “Looks like most of the trenches are emptying out—still, be prepared to take on anything.”

“Of course, sir.” Ageless looked at his mentor. The man was nervous. More nervous than he had ever seen him, though he was trying hard to hide it. Why should this worry him more than anything else we’ve done? It bothered him for some reason, but yet again he discounted it and prepared himself.

“Let’s move to the back,” Zumter said, clapping him on the back.

Zumter led Ageless through the troop bay, past all the well-armored snowtroopers with their white flapping masks draped across their faces. Ageless and Zumter were not dressed in any sort of Imperial-looking armor or uniforms. Rather, they had on thick jackets and insulated pants, with what appeared to be only piecemeal armor, which was what the Viper probe droid had indicated the Rebels were wearing on Hoth, right before it got shot by someone and set itself to self-destruct. Dressed as such, they would more easily blend in with the Rebels in the trenches.

Ageless and Zumter got a few looks from the snowtroopers as the two of them huddled at the back of the AT-AT, over a manhole-sized opening, and clipped themselves into a cable and prepared to belay down to the surface. In their earpieces, they heard General Veers give the final call. “Target! Maximum firepower!”

They heard the tremendous shots and the even more tremendous explosion. The AT-AT vibrated and the snowtroopers all cheered.

“That’s it,” Zumter said. “Go!”

Ageless did not need to be told twice. He was born for this moment. And as they rappelled down between the walker’s legs, they both got a gander of the enormous, ever-expanding fireball as it roiled out from the shield generator, out from what had been the Rebels’ last hope for delaying the full Imperial invasion.

They landed in the snow and immediately moved in a crouch, running away from the AT-AT and leaping immediately into the first trench they came to. Above them, about fifty meters up on a rocky embankment, was a massive v-150 Planet Defender ion cannon. Its cannon pumped one massive glob of blue ionic energy into space, its recoil causing the ground to tremble beneath their feat. The noise nearly deafened them as they made their way through the trench.

The trench was mostly empty, with gun emplacements completely abandoned. They came across one young Rebel medic who came running right at them, not recognizing them as a threat at all. “You two need to move!” he screamed. “That explosion you just heard was the main generator—”

Ageless did not even think. He raised his blaster rifle and put two bolts into the Rebels’ chest before he could register the threat.

Zumter smiled. “Nice shot.”

“Thank you, sir.” Ageless was as robotic as a drone, here to complete a mission. Yet still, even he noted something was wrong as Zumter continued to wave him ahead. It had long been Zumter’s habit to remain in the lead, to take full charge of any operation in which he participated with one of his own assets. But for some reason he wanted Ageless to take point.

It was very strange, considering standard tactical flow and the randomness of a structure’s geometry necessitated that sometimes the first person through a doorway would kneel and provide cover, while the person behind them swept into the room and took over the lead position. But here, even as they began moving into the cold, tight spaces of the dug-in corridors of Echo Base, no matter where they went, no matter how many times Ageless was the first through and the first to lay down suppression fire, Zumter continued to wave him to the lead.

* * *

INSIDE “ECHO BASE”

They performed a brief bounding overwatch down a corridor that slowly declined, deeper and deeper, into freezing, labyrinthine tunnels. Zumter continued waving Ageless to lead. “Clear!” he called, moving into the next corridor. Ageless rounded a corner and shouted, “Contact!” when he spotted two Rebel techs trying to load a broken Gonk droid onto a sled. Neither of them had time to go for their blasters before Zumter shot one in the head, and Ageless shot the other in the chest.

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They were several minutes ahead of the snowtroopers—they had to hurry, because once those troopers came in, they would do so without subtlety, without stealth, and the chaos they would create would leave the Rebels desperate. At present, the Rebels only knew that their shield generator was down, they did not yet know they had been penetrated. If they kept the element of surprise, Ageless and Zumter might come upon an unassuming Alderaanian princess and any other key leaders.

They came to a door that would not open without a passcode. “Looks like the Rebs have already started lockdown,” Zumter said. “Smart. We need to run a bypass. You got your rig?”

Ageless nodded wordlessly and moved over to the access panel. He holstered his weapon while Zumter covered him. In a few seconds he had used a multi-tool to remove the panel cover, then stabbed the rig’s power needle into the wires connected to the main circuits. Without a jackport interface, he could not use the rig’s mini-interface arm, not without his slicer rig receiving a defensive burst of electricity that would fry it. Therefore, an alternating power attack needed to be used to disrupt the panel’s systems. That was done in a matter of seconds, allowing him to then insert the interface arm and work on the mal-code. It took eight seconds to run a bypass, then he put the rig away and drew his blaster and stepped back from the door, just as it slid open.

Once again, he was shocked to see Zumter foregoing procedure, and instead of taking point while the one who did the slicing stepped back and gave cover for entry, he waited for Ageless to go inside first.

For the first time ever, Ageless Void felt something was wrong. He couldn’t tell what, but it caused him to question Zumter’s command. Was he afraid? Did he not want to be the point man since the first through the door typically took the first shots? Was he worried about dying just before retirement?

Ageless cast aside his doubts and obeyed his commanding officer. But even as he swept into the next corridor and shot dead the three Rebel soldiers carrying food and medical supplies, he could not help but wonder, Why are two of us on this operation? It was not unheard of for two Kingdom operatives to be sent on the same op, but it was certainly rare. In fact, in his nearly one hundred missions for the Kingdom, Ageless had only ever been teamed with another operative twice.

But he was trained to obey, and obey he did. Down a short corridor into a kitchen area. He shot the security droid and the Rebel soldier boxing up rations. Moved on. Down another corridor, into an empty spare parts room. They stepped through a medical room with a bacta tank still full of the clear liquid. Stepped into a corridor where two pilots came bounding through a doorway on their right. Ageless and Zumter each claimed a victim.

In the distance, there came the thunder of the ion cannon. The walls trembled, shaking off ice pellets that fell on their heads as they passed through doorways and into frigid corridors. They heard the thunderous footsteps of the AT-ATs and the distant salvos of blasterfire. Ageless moved forward eagerly, all but enraptured by glorious duty.

Then, suddenly, there came an explosion that shook the tunnels and a mound of ice fell from a collapsing ceiling, exposing a hole back to the surface.

“Imperial troops have entered the base!” someone shouted over a public intercom. “Imperial troops have entered the—” The transmission ended in static.

“Well, that’s it. Our time’s up,” said Zumter. “We need to move faster.” He looked at the mound of ice in front of them, which led up to the hole in the ceiling. “Suppose we can climb out of here, perhaps find another way around?”

Ageless nodded. And once again, he noted that Zumter waved him ahead.

Ageless climbed first, slipping once on the ice. He reached the summit first, and stepped up onto a wide plain of pure snow, pocked here and there by downed AT-AT walkers, at least one of which he was sure was the one he and Zumter had come in on. “Looks like Veers didn’t make it.”

Zumter came up beside him, huffing and wheezing. He nodded. “Let’s keep moving.”

At this point, Ageless did not even wait to be told, he took the lead without question and started forward.

In their earpieces, they heard a report from a stormtrooper squad leader: “We’ve got visual on Rebel leaders escaping in a corridor! We think they are heading for a hangar on the east end! Descriptions match those of Her Highness, Pirate, and Golden Knight—”

Those last two names were the codenames the Empire had given to Han Solo and their well-known golden protocol droid.

“They’re making a final break for it!” Zumter said. “Let’s double-time it!”

He and Zumter trudged quickly through knee-deep snow. Two T-47s streaked overhead, trailing columns of smoke behind them. The air smelled acrid of death and oil and smoke. They passed six dead Rebels, and a single dead snowtrooper. They walked over their bodies to another trench and dropped in. Ageless’s blood was up, he was excited to have gotten this deep this soon. In the distance, he spied a wide opening that looked like it might be the entrance to a huge hangar bay. Just inside, he thought he saw the front end of what looked like a freighter, a YT model if he wasn’t mistaken.

“I think I see a hangar up ahead,” he said. Glancing back at Zumter, he noted the older man’s face had a strange look on it. A severe look. Like he was looking at the grave of a long lost friend. “Sir?”

Zumter snapped out of it. “Yes. Lead the way.”

They moved as one, stepping into more ice tunnels, some of which went underground before they once again ascended into sunlight. Ageless still felt electrified in the moment. This was what he had promised his mother and father he would do. Protect the galaxy, protect their way of life from rogue actors, and show the galaxy that there was a place for Zabraks in the Empire. And here it was, possibly at the end of the war, so close at hand.

They moved underneath the great shadow of another massive ion cannon, which lay silent now like the toy of some dead god.

Together, they dispatched three more Rebels on their way to the hangar bay. They heard the blasterfire before they got there, and decided to take up positions beside the entrance. Ageless peeked inside, and there he saw what he had predicted he would see. The Millennium Falcon. It had become a kind of legend around Imperial intelligence circles. It was believed to have been a contributor to the Death Star’s destruction, and was rumored to be escorting Her Highness around the galaxy ever since that fateful day.

“This is it,” he muttered to Zumter. “That’s the ship.”

They both got a look at the YT-1300. A group of snowtroopers had set up E-Web heavy repeating blaster cannons on tripods all around it, and were firing on its hull. The Millennium Falcon was making strange sounds. Ageless had heard noises like that before, like a dying oogark whale.

“The engines aren’t working.”

Zumter smiled. “Could be our lucky day!”

Ageless felt history gathering around him. This was it, a moment that would surely be taught in schools around the galaxy for millennia to come. The final mission that ended the Galactic Civil War.

“Okay, on three,” Zumter said. “We’ll move to those crates over there, and then you’ll take the left flank, and I’ll take the right. Still have those thermal detonators?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then get ready to use them against the ramp door. We’ll breach while—”

But Zumter never got to finish, because a compartment opened on the belly of the Falcon and out came a heavy repeating blaster cannon that started tearing through the snowtroopers that were taking cover all around it. Then, the YT’s engines thrummed and whined and finally began cycling up.

Oh no, Ageless thought.

“Move up! She’s getting away!” Zumter cried. He started to run inside the hangar, but just then, the Millennium Falcon shot forward without preamble and as its engines detonated it also created a windstorm that forced both Ageless and his mentor into the air and onto their backs.

Ageless hit hard, the wind leaving him. He staggered to his feet, aiming uselessly at the tail of the YT.

“No! Blast! Blaaaaast!” screamed Zumter, shaking his fist at the sky.

They both watched as the smuggler’s ship began clawing for orbit. And as immense as his own disappointment was, Ageless could not fathom his mentor’s sudden lack of discipline. He looked him up and down, wondering if the man had finally lost it. Then he turned and looked inside the hangar bay, where Lord Vader had just entered and was staring at the Falcon as it departed Hoth.

In his entire service, Ageless had only ever been in Darth Vader’s presence twice before, and both times he wondered about the man. Who was he really? Where had he come from? How had he become both the Emperor’s and Tarkin’s most trusted vassal? How had he, a nonmilitary agent, assumed the role of a military leader?

And what is he doing here?

Vader had a way of making himself seen on certain operations, Ageless knew, and even participating. But the stories that had circulated about his obsession with finding Skywalker—not just the Rebels, but Skywalker specifically—had always puzzled Ageless. Was it just because Skywalker had bested him at Yavin, or was it something else?

While he tried to fathom the depths of such a vengeful heart, Ageless watched as Vader turned and left back the way he came, his mechanical breathing echoing across the cold hangar bay.

* * *

They moved through the corridors, helping to clear out any stragglers. A couple dozen Rebels had not made it out in time, and were making last stands deep in the ice tunnels. Ageless did his part, with Zumter bringing up the lead. He kept glancing back at his mentor, seeing the half-committed look in his face as he provided assistance.

When Ageless came upon a group of snowtroopers that were putting binders on captured Rebels, he looked over and saw Zumter smiling. That was a good sign. Or is it? Look at the way he smiles. Indeed, the smile was strained, like a man trying to force himself to be jovial during a surprise party he secretly abhorred.

Ageless did not understand. This is still a solid victory. We have defeated them, nearly depleted their forces, and forced them to stop whatever operations they were going to launch from this site. I understand being disappointed, but why is he so glum?

“Is everything all right, Commander?” Ageless finally asked, when they had stepped into a tunnel whose left wall had been blown open, exposing another wide and endless plain of ice. Flurries were picking up. Looked like a blizzard soon.

Zumter smiled at his apprentice and clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s fine, Ageless. It’s fine. Just a little disappointed it didn’t all go as planned.”

“It was still a victory, sir.”

“It was, it was. But…” He shook his head, as if he did not possess the words to fully express himself. Perhaps he didn’t. “Do you ever wonder why we do it, Ageless?”

That had not been what Ageless expected to hear. “Sir?”

“It all comes and goes. Time is just a measure of decay, that’s all it really is.” He snorted derisively, and gazed at the sky, deepening with darkness. “We could have achieved so much. We really could have. All we needed was for the galaxy to see things our way, for the Empire’s citizens to fully embrace the Emperor’s vision.”

“They will, sir. In time.”

“Will they?”

Ageless was unclear on the topic and did not know how to respond. The moment was uncomfortable. Training had taught him a lot—about killing, slicing, surviving, escaping, and evading capture—but it had never taught him how to deal with a commanding officer suffering a personal crisis of faith.

Then, all at once, Zumter looked over at him and said, “Let’s continue our recon.” He pointed out into the snow. “Could be more Rebs out there, freezing their tail ends off. Let’s bring them in, get them warm. What do you say?” He smiled and clapped Ageless on the shoulder again.

“You bet, sir.”

Thinking the melancholy had run its course, Ageless returned a smile and started out into the snow, into the night, in Hoth’s cold embrace. But, just as he turned, Ageless saw it. It was brief, but undeniable. A waver in Commander Zumter’s smile. A weird brush stroke of regret painted across his face.

Something, some old instinct, told Ageless to grip his blaster solidly.

That was when Zumter’s blaster came up right beside Ageless’s head, and fired. Ageless ducked his head to one side just in time, felt a ringing in his ears and a flash of heat, sensing that a sliver of his flesh and skull had been shaved off. His vision went blurry, and he nearly blacked out, but muscle memory took over as well as instinct, and his hand seized the commander’s. Two more shots were fired wildly while they pushed and shoved one another. Ageless elbowed him in the neck, and Zumter recoiled but dropped against the far wall and grabbed a holdout blaster from its holster and fired from the hip.

Ageless leapt outside, into the cold. Part of the stun beam hit him in the lower part of his right leg, and he went stumbling outside, down into the snow, rolling down a short hill and fading into the sudden swell of flurries. That and the darkness saved him, for a series of blaster bolts blistered the rocks and ice all around him as he continued rolling.

He was out only a few seconds, if he had to guess, and awoke at the base of the hill. Night had fallen. He started running, and did not stop until the night had fully engulfed him and the blizzard had leeched the strength from his bones.

* * *

As he lay there unconscious, images flitted in and out of his conscious mind. Shadows. Inky shapes moving towards him with sharp daggers. He saw Zumter there, as well as Ida, with her flirtatious eyes somehow penetrating the darkness. Director Abaca was there, too. So was a large, dark figure with a helmet and cape, with mechanical breathing echoing all around.

He opened his eyes and felt a world of pain and confusion and chose to go back to sleep. Only later would he realize he had chosen death, and quite consciously.

The cold seeped in. He had never felt so weak.

He would die here in the snow. Every part of him understood this. In some ways he was wrong, for he had lived. And yet in some ways, he had died.