Марта Уэллс - From a Certain Point of View

—

The maintenance crawl space was long and dark, and the going was slow, and Deena could only hope that she could find an exit soon that would get her back into the city and closer to her intended destination and away from Lord Vader’s fight with Skywalker.

If Skywalker was even still alive. The pressure equalization in the control room had been severe, and he’d been close to the window. It was more than likely he’d been sucked out to his death.

Deena swore as she moved on, the going difficult as she found herself having to squeeze past cable runs, and trip over bulkheads, control boxes, data feed junctions. Ahead, the narrow confine got narrower. She couldn’t go back. She’d have to get out soon and see where she was. As far as she could tell, the crawl space ran alongside an open corridor, but she’d lost all sense of direction already in the dark and close space.

There was another maintenance hatch coming up. She headed toward it, but her foot caught on another mystery object hidden in the dark. As she toppled forward, there was a click from somewhere over her head. A tinny little public address system buzzed to life.

“Attention, this is Lando Calrissian. Attention. The Empire has taken control of the city. I advise everyone to leave before more Imperial troops arrive.”

Deena lay where she was, waiting for more, but the PA clicked off and that was it. That settled it. She needed to get out of the crawl space and find a ship to hitch a ride on fast.

Then she heard something else. She pulled herself up, grabbed the blaster from where she’d dropped it, and moved closer to the maintenance hatch. She pressed her ear against it and listened.

It was a crackling, buzzing sound, two giant, angry insects swooping in on each other, punctuated by electric bangs, the harsh spitting reminding her of energy bolts shorting against a deflector shield. Beneath it all, the mechanical huffing of Lord Vader himself.

Deena pushed the hatch open just enough to see into the corridor. Her heart leapt into her throat as she saw the two figures locked in combat beyond the open doorway at the end of the passage. Lord Vader was pressing his attack, forcing the very much alive Luke Skywalker back along a metal gantry that hung over the gaping maw of the city hub, their lightsabers crackling and fizzing over the wind that howled into the corridor from outside.

She had to get out, but the combatants were too close, and even locked in battle as they were, she couldn’t risk being seen. Having seen the extent of Lord Vader’s true power, it didn’t take much to imagine him snapping her neck in his rage without a second thought even as he continued his attack against Skywalker.

Deena shrank back into the crawl space, closing the panel behind her. She twisted herself around, trying to get her bearings before using fistfuls of cable to drag herself back through the tight space, while the sounds of battle continued to echo from outside.

She pushed on in haste, hardly aware of which direction she was facing. Then her foot tangled again, and she fell. Outside, the wind howled, and the sounds of the fight seemed to fade. Deena lay still in the dark, and listened—was Lord Vader saying something? Then the duel recommenced.

Deena rushed to free herself, her hands groping blindly in the dark. She struggled for what seemed like forever, then finally she was free. Ahead, the crawl space came to a pointed end and was relatively clear of obstacles.

Nearly there.

Deena slid to the last maintenance panel in the wall and popped it open. She came out right at the end of the corridor.

The wrong end. She was at the doorway, leading out onto a long external gantry. Somehow, she’d gotten herself turned around. Deena swore to herself again and, keeping close to the wall, she risked a peek around the bulkhead of the doorway.

Their lightsabers had been deactivated, but Lord Vader had Skywalker trapped at the end of the gantry. Skywalker, however, seemed unwilling to accept his defeat, and was backing away on his hands and knees along an antenna array that stretched out toward the middle of the city hub, the seemingly infinite drop now directly below him. As Deena watched, Lord Vader reached toward his quarry; he was speaking, but the eddies of wind swirling around the platform made it difficult to make out his words.

“There is no escape. Don’t make me destroy you.”

Deena blinked. What had Lord Vader said? Or was she mishearing over the noise of the wind? This was Luke Skywalker, a kid who had destroyed the jewel in the Emperor’s crown, the object of Lord Vader’s obsession for the last three years.

Why would he spare him? Skywalker was trapped, at Lord Vader’s mercy. All it would take is a single blow from his lightsaber, and—

“…You do not yet realize your…you have only begun to discover…”

Deena hissed with frustration as the wind picked up. She had to go—now!—but part of her was desperate to find out what was happening. She dropped into a crouch and poked her head out a little farther.

She could risk a few moments, surely—witnessing this private moment between Lord Vader and his enemy, maybe she could pick up some useful intel, something she could use to bargain with once she got out of the city.

Lord Vader raised his voice. “With our combined strength, we can end this destructive conflict, and bring order to the galaxy!” In reply, the pilot yelled something that Deena couldn’t make out, but Lord Vader’s next statement was loud and clear.

“If you only knew the power of the dark side.”

The wind whipped around the doorway. Deena ducked back inside the corridor. Unsure of the value of what she had heard—was Lord Vader offering a truce, some kind of alliance with Skywalker?—she moved back to the doorway to try and hear more. Outside, Skywalker was now clinging to the side of the antenna array with one hand, the other clutched to his chest. The wind changed direction again, and Deena could just make out his words.

“He told me you killed him.”

“No,” said Lord Vader, “I am your—”

A huge gust blew in through the doorway, forcing Deena back inside. She pressed herself against the wall, turning to face it, her head curled down toward her chest. The wind dipped, briefly, enough for Deena to hear Skywalker yell something—she couldn’t understand what, but she could hear only too well the pain in his voice, his primal scream of anguish stirring something deep inside her.

Then the wind swelled again, the eddies now caught between the jutting bulkheads in the corridor, spinning into a miniature whirlwind. She couldn’t stay where she was—Lord Vader could come back in at any moment—so she opened the maintenance hatch and returned to the relative peace of the crawl space, leaning against the closed panel as she got her breath back. The panel rattled under her as the wind gusted again, then it died. Deena didn’t move. The seconds in the dark seemed to stretch forever, and then she heard heavy footsteps pass by in the corridor. Once they had faded away, Deena popped the panel open again.

The corridor was empty. Looking back down toward the doorway, she couldn’t see anybody out on the gantry.

The footsteps must have been Lord Vader, but where was Skywalker? It had sounded like only one person walking by, but, to be honest, it had been hard to tell. As if to prove her point, the wind blew up again, filling the corridor with an eerie howling that Deena realized was certainly loud enough to mask the softer footfalls of Lord Vader’s…what? Enemy? Or was Skywalker now some kind of co-conspirator? Or…that scream—had he fallen off the antenna? Deena didn’t think so. It hadn’t sounded like the scream of someone falling.