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In the hallway outside his suite, Vader found a captain.

"Find the admiral and tell him we are leaving within the
hour."

The captain saluted. "Yes, my lord." He hurried away.

Vader entered the suite. It was well appointed but


scarcely luxurious; it had been many years since he had
taken notice of such things. He moved to the comm
station to contact Tarkin and tell him he was done here.
With any luck at all, Vader told himself, he would not
have to return until the battle station was finished.

GUARD POST, SLASHTOWN PRISON COLONY,


DESPAYRE

"Say again?" Sergeant Nova Stihl asked. "Pack,


Sergeant," the loot said.

"You are being transferred."

"To where?" Not that he cared overmuch-after all, one


place on this pestilent world was as good, or bad, as
another. But to his surprise, the lieutenant pointed at the
ceiling. "To that pile of I-beams and durasteel plate in the
sky."

Nova blinked. "To the Death Star? Why?"

The lieutenant sighed. "These insignia look like a Moff's


rankings to you?" He gestured at his uniform. "Not yours

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