by Kevin Hearne
Vader’s voice was calm. “I’m docking with the transport, Commander.”
Using the Force, Vader stopped his rotation and reeled himself in toward the large, jagged, smoking hole his Eta-2 had torn in the transport’s hull. Loose hoses and electrical lines dangled from the edges of the opening, leaking gases and shooting sparks into space. A portion of his ship’s wing had survived the impact and was lodged in the bulkhead. The rest had been vaporized on impact.
Vader pulled himself through the destruction until he stood in the remains of a depressurized corridor. Chunks of metal and electronics littered the torn deck, the whole of it smoking from the heat of impact. The V-wings buzzed past the transport, visible through the hole in the bulkhead.
“Sir?” said the squadron commander.
“All is under control, Commander,” said Vader.
Several members of the fighter squadron whispered awed oaths into their comms.
“Maintain comm discipline,” barked the squadron leader, though Vader could hear the disbelief in his tone, too. “My Lord … there are dozens of hijackers aboard that transport.”
“Not for much longer, Commander,” Vader said. “You are on escort duty now. I will notify you if anything else is required.”
A pause, then, “Of course, sir.”
The transport’s automatic safeties had sealed off the corridor with a blast door, but he knew the codes to override them. He strode through the ruin and entered the code. The huge door slid open and pressurized air from the hall beyond poured out with a hiss. He stepped through and resealed the door behind him. A few more taps on a wall comp and he’d repressurized the hall. The shrill sound of the transport’s hull-breach-alarm wailed from wall speakers.
A hatch on the far side of the hall slid open to reveal a purpleskinned Twi’lek male in makeshift armor. Seeing Vader, the Twi’lek’s headtails twitched, his eyes widened in surprise, and he grabbed for the blaster at his belt. By the time the Twi’lek had the blaster drawn and the trigger pulled, Vader had his lightsaber in hand and ignited. He deflected the blaster shot into the wall, raised his off hand, and with it reached out with the Force. He made a pincer motion with his two fingers, using his power to squeeze the Twi’lek’s trachea.
The Twi’lek pawed frantically at his throat as Vader’s power lifted him off the deck, but to his credit he held on to his weapon and the gagging, dying alien managed to aim and fire his blaster at Vader again and again. Vader simply held his grip on the alien’s throat while casually deflecting the blasts into the bulkhead with his lightsaber. Not wanting to waste time, Vader moved his raised hand left and then right, using the Force to smash the Twi’lek into the bulkhead. The impacts shattered bone, killing him, and Vader let the body fall to the deck. A voice carried over a portable comm on the Twi’lek’s belt.
“Tymo! Tymo! What is going on there? Do you copy? Can you hear me?”
Vader deactivated his lightsaber, picked up the comm, opened the channel, and let the sound of his respirator carry over the connection.
“Who is that?”
Vader answered only with his breathing.
“Tymo, is that you? Are you all right?”
“I’m coming for you now,” Vader said.
He crushed the communicator in his fist, ignited his lightsaber, stepped over the dead Twi’lek, and strode into the corridor beyond.