The Slave Traders of Tatooine
Original Star Wars Fan Fiction by "Free Trader"
Part V: Curtain Call
Shamus Fume fidgeted nervously as the spaceship’s boarding ramp swung down in front of him. Despite being flanked by a half-dozen of his personal bodyguards, he was still fearful of the encounter that he knew would be occurring in a few moments. Shamus was having difficulty convincing himself that this was even happening at all.
Then the inner doors parted and a tall, black-armored figure strode down the ramp. The fearful visage caused Shamus to pee in his pants.
“Lord Vader,” Shamus croaked hoarsely. “This is indeed an honor!”
“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” Vader’s deep voice boomed as he surveyed the blasters still leveled in his direction. Shamus hurriedly motioned for his guards to lower their weapons.
“I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly, “but . . . we heard you were dead!”
“DO I LOOK DEAD TO YOU?” Vader thundered.
“N-n-n-no, my lord,” Shamus stuttered. “It’s just that we heard rumors . . .”
“BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU CHOOSE TO BELIEVE,” Vader rumbled. “NOW, WHERE IS THE GIRL?”
Shamus turned and motioned frantically to a guard standing at the entrance to the docking bay. A few moments later two more guards appeared dragging a struggling blond-haired girl. Her wrists and ankles were bound and her mouth gagged.
“S-she has been a lot of t-trouble Lord Vader,” Shamus stuttered apologetically. “She whines and complains incessantly about everything. We had to gag her just to get some peace and quiet!”
“NEVER MIND ABOUT THAT NOW. JUST PUT HER ABOARD MY SHIP.”
“You heard Lord Vader,” Shamus ordered his men in his best authoritarian voice. “Now make it snappy!” The guards hastily drug Valeria up the ramp and unceremoniously deposited her writhing form on the floor of the spaceship’s dimly-lit cargo hold, then scurried back down the ramp.
Vader abruptly whirled around and marched back up the ramp. He paused for a moment in the hatchway, then turned and addressed Shamus again.
“YOU WILL BE REWARDED FOR YOUR SERVICE TO THE EMPIRE. THERE MAY EVEN BE A PLACE FOR YOU IN THE EMPEROR’S COURT,” he said and then disappeared inside the ship.
“The Emperor is alive? B-But . . .” Shamus voice was drowned out by the whine of sub-light engines roaring to life. The next thing he knew, the boarding ramp had swung upward and the spaceship was lifting skyward.
“Ya’ know, I always thought he was taller,” muttered one of the guards.
* * *
“That was some performance,” Drolen said admiringly. “I gotta admit I didn’t think you could pull it off, but you really surprised me!”
“I surprised me too,” Grus sighed as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Unlike the real Sith Lord’s cybernetic armor, Grus’ “Authentic Darth Vader Costume” that he’d purchased for 100 credits back on Byblos lacked air-conditioning. While the plastic helmet’s “built-in realistic voice synthesizer” had managed to fool Shamus Fume, Grus was still relieved that he hadn’t had to play the Vader role longer than a few minutes.
“I was expecting that we were going to have to shoot it out with the guards and rescue the girl,” Drolen said.
“Are you kiddin’?” Grus responded. “What do you think this is anyway . . . a space opera?”
Okay, so I admit I got bored with this storyline and decided to end it with Grus playing Darth Vader and conning Shamus into handing over Valeria rather than having it be a drawn-out wild bantha chase.
The above story includes terminology and concepts from the "Gor" series of science fiction novels by John Norman. STAR WARS is TM and © 1996 by Lucasfilm Ltd. Any use of copyrighted material or trademarks anywhere in this story should not be viewed as a challenge to those copyrights or trademarks. This original story is the intellectual property of Free Trader and is intended for personal, non-commercial entertainment only.