Star Wars - The Adventures of Alex Winger 6 - Shadows of Darkness

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by Charlene Newcomb




  The scene had become all too familiar in the city of Ariana. Six stormtroopers emerged from the transport. They moved efficiently up the old stone steps to the house. Blaster rifles were ready for any sign of trouble. TK-121 glanced at his comrades and nodded his head. He blasted the door and four of the troopers burst into the house.

  Its occupants had been asleep, but were jolted awake by the sound of the door being destroyed. Carl Barzon appeared at his bedroom door.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded as TK-718 pushed past him into the bedroom.

  “Let me go!” his son demanded, fighting against two troopers who dragged him from another room.

  “No one else here, sir,” TK-718 reported.

  “All right. Put him on the transport,” TK-121 ordered.

  “Where are you taking my son?” Dr. Barzon asked. “He has done nothing wrong!”

  The stormtroopers ignored Barzon’s pleas as Cord Barzon was roughly escorted from the house. The younger man saw the pain in his father’s eyes.

  “Father, don’t worry. It will be all right,” he called back to him.

  Barzon watched in horror as they took his only family away. He’d never felt so helpless. Leaning against the door frame, he watched the transport pull away and realized how ironic it was that the Imperials had arrested his son. Cord, a student at the university where Barzon taught and conducted research, had never been involved in underground resistance activities here on Garos. And he didn’t even suspect his fathers role with that group. Dr. Barzon always anticipated stormtroopers would show up at his door one day — but to arrest him, not his son.

  Now, they’d just forced Cord to go. And there was nothing Carl Barzon could do about it.

  Two wild boetays howled in the distance. A flock of crupas flew overhead, silhouetted against one of Garos’ moons. The creatures of the night were headed east toward the valley as the winds turned cold in the mountains surrounding the mining center.

  Chance watched the crupas disappear above the tree canopy, then turned his attention back to the Imperial mining complex. It was the first time he’d been this close in a while — increased Imperial patrols and sensors south of Ariana had prevented the underground from direct observation for the last several months.

  “Well, LG,” he said, using a nickname that stood for little girl, something he’d called his comrade since their first recon mission almost four years earlier, “I heard that you were the one who found us this hole in the sensor net.”

  “With the right equipment on an airspeeder, you can do all kinds of neat tricks,” 20-year-old Alex Winger replied. Not to mention that Air Defense wasn’t as likely to shoot down her father’s airspeeder. They’d grown used to Alex’s crazy stunts, politely reminding her to leave the restricted flight zone. Being the daughter of Garos’ Imperial governor did have its benefits.

  “Yeah,” he said with a big grin, “the right equipment and the right pilot!”

  Alex trained her macrobinoculars on the mine entrance. “Looks like it’s shift change time,” she said. Fifty miners, all dressed in the same gray jumpsuits, emerged from the mines with a stormtrooper escort. Lights around the complex illuminated tired expressions on the miners’ dirt-smeared faces. They trudged across the compound toward prison barracks.

  “They’ve got it down to a routine now.” Chance’s smile turned to a scowl as he pulled his hood tighter around his head to ward off the cold. “What do you think,” he asked as he scanned the rest of the complex, “ten or twelve hours ’til they finish that shuttle platform?”

  Alex studied the structure rising on the southwestern side of the complex. “No longer than that,” she agreed.

  Chance couldn’t take his eyes off that landing platform as he weighed possible options. “You know, LG, we could hit it with the Plex. Range is about 200 meters from here. Two or three shots ought to do some major damage.” he told her.

  “And bring down half the Imperial forces of Garos on us!” she reminded him. “Our escape options are pretty poor on this side of the complex, Chance. The only way out is to the east. And they’d close that gap so fast —”

  “So, you don’t think it’s worth the risk?”

  Alex shook her head. “That stockpiled ore doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. There hasn’t been a Star Destroyer here for a pickup in months. Wish we heard more news about what’s going on out there,” she said, cocking her head toward the stars. “It’s been so quiet.”

  “Yeah.” He took a drink from his thermajug, leaned back against a small boulder, and stared into the star-filled sky.

  Alex noticed the look in Chance’s eyes. He really didn’t belong here. Like her, he had the stars in his blood. “I’ve always felt that my destiny is somewhere up there,” she told him. “You’re not from Garos either, are you. Chance?”

  He turned, recognizing a variety of emotions in her voice, and wondering how she knew. He’d never told anyone about his past. “Right,” he said.

  Alex sighed. “I was brought here when I was six. My family was killed during an Imperial raid,” she said quietly as distant screams pierced her mind. She could barely remember the grandparents who were raising her then. She’d been left in their care by a father she remembered even less, a father who probably didn’t realize she was still alive. But memories of the raid were vivid after all these years.

  “I —” Chance paused, deciding against telling her what he knew about her past, or his own. He reached over and touched her hand gently. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. He’d been there when they found the unconscious six-year-old buried in the rubble. He’d seen firsthand the destruction caused by the Empire he once served. It had changed her life — and it had changed his.

  She shook off her sad thoughts. “Do you believe in fate. Chance?”

  “You mean, that because of what happened to your family, you ended up on Garos working for the underground? Well, yeah,” he nodded his head, “I’d call that fate, LG.”

  She smiled at him. “So, when do I hear your story, my friend?”

  “Someday,” he replied. “Maybe.”

  Dim lighting gave the impression of eternal night in the underground resistance’s operations center. But buried deep beneath Imperial Headquarters, the place was crewed around the clock by ops huddled over communications equipment and computers that lit their faces with a soft bluish glow. The passage of time was evident only by a chrono which hung above the door.

  When Alex entered the room at 0800, she nodded to ops at the comm intercept stations and waved to another friend making notations on the master display across the room. Then she noticed Mika Kaebra urgently pointing her in the direction of Magir Paca’s office.

  She glanced toward the transparent wall that separated Paca’s sparsely furnished office from the main operations room. A feeling of dread swept over her. For a brief moment, a vision of a snowy mountainside, a vision she’d had many times, filled her senses.

  Carl Barzon sat with his head buried in his hands. Magir Paca, one of the leaders of the resistance, was bent over him, his hand offering a comforting touch on the doctor’s shoulder.

  “What’s wrong?” Alex asked as she entered the room.

  Barzon looked up at Alex, his eyes filled with grief. She’d never seen him like this.

  “They took my son, Alex! They took Cord!” he exclaimed.

  “Who?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

  “Imperial stormtroopers! They came to the house during the night and took him away!”

  Alex looked at Paca. “Is he be
ing held at Headquarters?” she asked him, hoping they might be able to free Cord before he was taken to the mines.

  “He’s gone, Alex,” Barzon answered.

  “Gone?”

  “They’ve already moved him to the mining center,” Paca told her. “He wasn’t brought to Imperial Headquarters for interrogation like the others.”

  Did that mean the Imperials knew Cord Barzon was not a member of the underground? What were they up to? An alarm went off in Alex’s mind. The Empire had been extremely interested in Doctor Barzon’s research on the ore from the Garosian mines and its possible use in cloaking technology. They’d tried numerous times to persuade him to work harder. Since bribery hadn’t seemed to work, would they use his son as a pawn?

  Alex sat down across from Barzon and took his hands into hers. “We’ll find out what’s going on. Doctor.”

  He nodded his head, wondering what good that knowledge would do them. They couldn’t go after Cord. The mining center was too well defended. And Carl Barzon knew it better than anyone.

  “Will you be okay?” she asked him.

  “I have no choice, Alex.” He took a deep breath and stood up to leave. “I must go to the University now. I have a class to teach.”

  As they watched him depart, a chill crawled up Alex’s spine — that snowy mountainside flickered in her mind again. Why? she wondered.

  “He’ll be all right,” Paca said, though the tone of his voice indicated he wasn’t wholly convinced.

  “Do you think this was a random pickup, Paca?” Alex asked.

  Paca rubbed a hand over weary eyes. “No. It’s got to be a setup,” he said, echoing her thoughts. “I’ll talk to Carl again later and see how he feels about disappearing for a while.”

  “You’ll never convince him to go into hiding, Paca,” Alex told him “He knows what the Empire will do to Cord.”

  Paca knew too. “Damn,” he said quietly. Then he remembered that Alex had come to report on Imperial activities around the mines. “So, Alex, could the daughter of Garos’ Imperial Governor possibly have any good news for us this morning?”

  “I wish I did,” she groaned. “Our Imperial friends are extremely busy. They’re working right through the night. We counted 50 miners per four-hour shift. And they moved two more of those containers of ore to the holding area. It’s under heavy guard.”

  ”Hmm. Our intercept ops haven’t heard a thing about a pickup yet, but it looks like they’re expecting one soon.”

  “Well, they’ll be able to move the ore right from the mines up to ships in orbit. The shuttle landing platform will be operational within four to five hours.”

  Paca cursed silently to himself. He’d worked with the underground for years, yet he’d never felt so powerless.

  They’d lost an entire underground cell two weeks earlier — five operatives — when the Empire began this rounding up action. Not to mention increased security, the shuttle platform, stockpiled ore, and now Carl’s son abducted. And there was nothing he could do about any of it. He shook his head in disgust.

  Alex sensed his despondency. But perhaps even more than Paca realized, she knew that Cord Barzon’s arrest could touch lives far beyond Garos IV. She shuddered to think what might happen if Carl Barzon was forced to complete his research. Could nothing be done to stop the Empire?

  The door into Paca’s office slid open, and Alex felt a cold blast of air as the room seemed to fade around her. Suddenly, she found herself dangling from a rope, clinging to the snow-covered mountain of her visions —

  “Alex, take my hand!”

  Through the swirling snow, a hand reached out to her. She struggled to touch fingertips just beyond her grasp. Her hand scraped against bare rock, then over the icy slope. Fingertip met fingertip, only to be torn apart by a sweeping rush of wind — and Alex fell into a dark abyss —

  “No!” she cried out.

  “Alex, what is it? Are you okay?” Paca asked, reaching over to touch her arm. He’d never seen such a frightened look in her eyes.

  She shook her head to clear the vision, then glanced quickly from Paca to her chrono trying to hide the flood of emotions that overcame her.

  That vision — she’d had that vision a dozen times over the last two years. That’s not how it happens, a voice in the back of her mind screamed. The hands! They’d always met before! The man from her vision had always pulled her to safety. I don’t understand!

  “I — I’d better get going or I’ll be late for class,” she finally managed to say.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” she told him, but that spark that had always given him hope was gone.

  “Okay.” He didn’t know what else to say.

  Imperial Governor Tork Winger entered the foyer of the mansion and stared blankly around the room. He felt tired, more tired than he’d felt in years. Maybe it was his age. Perhaps he was getting too old to deal with politics and its intrigues.

  Winger sighed, glancing at the ancient timepiece in the foyer … 2200. He’d missed dinner with Alexandra this evening. Since she’d moved to the university several months earlier, they’d made special dinner dates once a week. And now he wouldn’t be able to see her. He frowned. That would have been the one bright spot of this entire day.

  He heard a movement at the top of the stairs. He looked up. his tired eyes catching sight of his lovely young daughter.

  “Alexandra!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t expect to find you here. I thought you would have gone back into town.” He suddenly realized she wasn’t smiling. No. more than that — there was an uncharacteristic glint of anger in her eyes.

  Alex rushed down the stairs. “Father, what is going on?”

  “What’s wrong. Alexandra?”

  “A friend of mine was arrested by stormtroopers last night! They dragged him from his home in the middle of the night!”

  “Who was it?” he asked.

  “Cord Barzon.”

  “Dr. Barzon’s son?” Winger was as surprised as Alex was angry. “Perhaps Cord was working for the underground.”

  “Cord? Father, I’ve known him for years. That is ridiculous!”

  “I’m sure there is a rational explanation for this, Alexandra. Tomorrow we will —”

  “Father, you know the Imperials are just snatching people from their homes. They aren’t looking for the underground! They don’t care who they take!”

  “Alexandra, please —”

  She ran from the room to the patio overlooking the Tahika Cliffs. So many times Alex found comfort gazing at the surf pounding the cliffs. But not tonight. She trembled with anger. She clenched a fist, closing her eyes. An overwhelming feeling of helplessness threatened to overtake her.

  Hadn’t it only been a few months before she’d been confident that the New Republic would push toward Garos? But then there had been rumors of a Grand Admiral and a renewed offensive by the Empire. Help seemed farther away than ever. Could this Grand Admiral succeed where the Emperor and Lord Vader had failed?

  Suddenly, a voice spoke to her through the darkness. It sounded so familiar, yet she’d never heard these words before —

  Remember, Alex. Fear and anger are the dark side of the Force. Calm. You must be calm —

  “Alexandra?” another voice called to her.

  Alex opened her eyes. Her father had come up beside her. “I’m sorry about Cord, Alexandra,” he said, taking her hand gently.

  She looked into his eyes. “I know, Father. It’s not your fault. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

  He squeezed her hand. “These are hard times, Alexandra.”

  “But does that justify the use of force against innocent people?” she asked him, wishing she could tell him what she really thought about his Empire.

  He took a deep breath and sighed. “No,” he admitted. “Let me see what I can find out about young Barzon.”

  “Thank you, Father,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him and planted a kiss on
his cheek.

  “Listen, my dear, can I count on your help at a reception day after tomorrow for the senior officers of the Star Destroyer Tempest?”

  “Tempest is returning to Garos? It’s been months since we’ve had any visitors.”

  “Yes, I hope it’s a sign that the Grand Admiral’s offensive is a success. Perhaps we shall have a victory celebration!”

  “Yes,” she forced a smile, and laid her head against his shoulder. “I can’t wait to hear their news.”

  “It’s a bit chilly out tonight,” Winger observed.

  “You’d better get inside, Father. You know this cold air isn’t good for you,” she reminded him.

  “All right, my dear.”

  “I’ll come inside soon,” she told him.

  “Here,” he said, placing his jacket around her shoulders. “Just a few minutes now.”

  “Okay,” she said as he left her alone on the patio.

  One of Garos’ moons peeked through the trees. It cast a gleam of light across the shadows that darkened the grounds around the mansion. Alex watched the light dance and felt her spirits lift. Wherever there is light, there is hope, she told herself.

  Yes, there was still hope — there always would be hope, even during the darkest hours they were yet to face.

  Alex turned her gaze up into the skies. And instead of feeling frightened, she found strength. The Force would be with them.

  The peacefulness of the Garosian late night was broken by the screeching of heavy machinery. Cranes on top of the shuttle platform hoisted ore containers from the forest floor.

  Security was even tighter than on their previous recon mission near the mines. Chance and Alex had been forced to relocate twice during the last hour because of increased scout troopers roaming the hillsides around the mining center. Stormtroopers patrolled the complex. Others stood guard near the containers that were being moved.

  “Shh!”

  “Not again,” he murmured, looking around for sign of troopers.

  “Listen,” Alex said.

  Chance’s brow crinkled in concentration. The symphonic rustling of tree branches and crooning of crupas were drowned out by noises emanating from the complex. He couldn’t hear anything else. Then he noticed that Alex had her macrobinoculars trained upward, scanning the skies.

 

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