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VI

At first it awed Imperial Supervisor Gurdun to ride in the shuttle next to Darth Vader, the Emperor’s brutal right-hand man. But as their craft descended through the gray cloudbanks shrouding the industrial centers of Mechis III, Gurdun found himself flinching at every hissing breath, nervously flicking sidelong glances toward the fearsome black helmet and the monstrous dark form. Gurdun had tried to make small talk several times, but Vader was not a very good conversationalist.

The pilot of Vader’s private shuttle expertly guided them over the warehouses and manufacturing centers, homing in on the tall administrative tower. Gurdun leaned over to peer through the window at the industrial landscape below and bumped his large nose against the window. He rubbed the nose painfully and scowled, then tried one more time with Darth Vader.

“This is a very large and very unusual order, Lord Vader. I appreciate your coming along to insure it receives the proper attention. I’m convinced these individuals on Mechis III are more concerned with corporate profits than the glory of the Empire. I had a terrible time getting Administrator Hekis to speak directly with me on the comlink.”

Vader’s breathing sounded like a hollow wind through a cave that trapped lost souls. “Don’t disappoint me, Supervisor Gurdun,” he said, each word like a stabbing vibroblade. “I hold you personally responsible for seeing that these new probot spy droids are completed on schedule and deployed. The Rebels have escaped from Yavin, and we must find them again. One Rebel in particular …”

“And who is that?” Gurdun asked brightly, pleased to have engaged Vader in what seemed to be a nice chat.

“That is none of your concern, Supervisor Gurdun.”

“Uh, no,” he said, “of course not. Just curious, that’s all.”

After the assassin droid debacle at the Holowan Laboratories, Gurdun had been placed in charge of overseeing the development of the Arakyd Viper Probot Series, a new line of black spy droids to be sent out by the thousands to search for hidden Rebel installations in all corners of the galaxy. The Imperials were keen to exact retribution for the destruction of their expensive Death Star.

Gurdun hoped that these probots might also give a clue to the location of his missing assassin droids. The IG assassin droids still roamed the galaxy, blatantly taking on bounty hunter assignments as if to slap him in the face.

Mechis III had received and acknowledged the large order for probe droids, but when Gurdun asked to inspect the assembly line personally, Administrator Hekis’s video image had been most disconcerting, strongly discouraging the visit. When Darth Vader asked for a progress report and Gurdun reported this reluctance, the Dark Lord decided to take matters into his own black-gloved hands.

Vader did not ask permission to visit Mechis III. He simply arrived.

The Imperial shuttle settled onto the red-lit rectangle atop the tall tower. He fumbled with his seat restraints as the shuttle doors hissed open.

Seeing his chance escaping, Gurdun took a deep breath to gather courage, finally broaching the subject he had been wanting to mention since takeoff.

“Uh, Lord Vader, if I might be so bold as to request …” He rubbed his nose unconsciously. “With the completion of this order, I was wondering if you might reconsider interceding on my behalf on my request for … ah, I mean … the surgical procedure that I’ve been needing for some time now—”

Vader swiveled his hideous helmet toward Gurdun, and the Imperial Supervisor shrank back, not wanting to confront the black plasteel face. “Your physical appearance does not concern me,” Vader said. “I have no interest or desire in providing you with useless cosmetic surgery. If your large nose continues to trouble you when you look in the mirror, perhaps I should remove my helmet and let you have a look? Then you wouldn’t be so concerned.”

Gurdun held up his hands. “No, no, that’s not necessary, Lord Vader. I see your point. I won’t ask again.” He rubbed his nose as if he could reduce its