Initially, Tarkin had been surprised to learn that the Emperor had ordered a start to work on the second Death Star before the first could be completed and properly tested. After a few years of setbacks on the original battle station, the dual track engineering began to make sense. It wouldn't do to be stuck waiting years for the construction of additional machines if the first proved successful. Clearly some change would need to be made to the design of the primary weapon, which was identical between the two, but for now the situation was optimal for cannibalizing parts that would be necessary for repairs.
The Death Star dropped out of hyperspace just outside the Endor system so they could announce their presence and coordinate orbits to avoid a catastrophic collision. The newer Death Star was locked in a geosynchronous orbit above a shield generator while it awaited completion of an outer hull, so Tarkin brought his station into a spot directly opposite to its counterpart, matching speeds with the rotation of the moon.
Vader had assembled a squad of stormtroopers, accompanied by droids designed for heavy lifting, and seven engineering staff. They were in the process of boarding two shuttles and a heavy freighter when one of the ubiquitous, interchangeable lieutenants scurried in.
"Milord!" he called, stopping Vader as he was striding up the ramp into his shuttle, "Grand Moff Tarkin wishes for you to join him in his personal communications suite. The Emperor has bidden you to make contact."
Turning abruptly, Vader came back down into the large hangar. "Continue preparations for launch," he told the stormtrooper commander. "I will return momentarily."
The link with Palpatine had already been established by the time Vader joined Tarkin, no doubt to make the Dark Lord look tardy and irresponsible.
"Lord Vader!" Tarkin greeted him with uncharacteristic pleasantness. "Thank you for joining us. I was telling His Highness of your work on repairing the damaged weapons components."
And no doubt blaming me for your failures, Vader thought as he joined Tarkin in the holofeed, kneeling. He bowed towards the Emperor. "What is thy bidding, my master?"
"Tarkin, leave us," the Emperor said sharply. Looking glad to be dismissed, however briefly, Tarkin stood, bowed again, and practically dashed from the room. Once he was gone, Palpatine walked closer to the camera on his end of the feed so that he appeared to be looming over Vader. "I felt a disturbance in the Force."
"Yes, my master." Vader struggled with what to tell him. Were he to admit that he knew that the source of the disturbance was the young princess' outburst as she destroyed the weapon to save her planet, his plans for her eventual apprenticeship—not to mention Vader's own physical safety—would be greatly at risk. But if he obfuscated the details, the old Sith might sense his deception. He decided he would take advantage of the distance between himself and the Imperial Palace. "I have been seeking out the source. It happened just as the weapons malfunctioned."
Palpatine eyed him suspiciously. Then he stepped back. "Continue your work, my apprentice," he said, "You have five days time. I want the weapon fully operational and the rebel base found by then. If not, warn your men that I will come to supervise their efforts."
It was a young slicer whose only previous experience in starship engineering came from video games that provided the engineering team with the break they needed to solve the riddle of how to destroy the Death Star on the second day of their exhausting search. General Dodonna raised an eyebrow at the boy as he led the team into the makeshift conference room to present their findings. They had an informal lower age limit for participation in the Alliance and he wasn't convinced this kid was anywhere near it yet.
Yawning techs, some still in night clothes, and a few pilots gulped coffee as they gathered around the display. The successful engineering team-comprised of the young slicer, two brothers from Corellia, and an older Mirialan woman who had been a professor at her planet's technical university—stood before the crowd, beaming with nervous excitement.
"Dr. Ogali, would you tell us what you've found?" Dodonna asked, holding up his hands for quiet. The Mirialan, who had been elected by her team to do the actual presenting by virtue of being the only one without a paralyzing fear of public speaking, cleared her throat.
"The superstructure and outer hull are designed to act as physical shielding for the station because power generation for an energy shield would sap enough resources as to render any activation of the primary weaponry impossible," she started. "Normally this design would work as intended, since the power core is at the immediate center of the station. However, clearly concessions to physical laws had to be made, and they included exhaust ports here;" she pointed at the holographic illustration that had appeared in the center of the room, "here, and here, to bleed heat from the core and keep it from overwhelming the interior structure. I won't get into the nuclear physics right now, but simply if we are able to introduce a high energy blast into the core via the thermal exhaust ports, we've calculated that their margin for error is small enough that it would create a chain reaction that could destroy the entire station."
A few people around the room sat furiously scribbling notes, some of them arguing quietly with their neighbors as they sketched out figures and equations. Dodonna let them take in the findings for moment.
"Dr. Ogali and the rest of the team," he paused as everyone present let out a brief cheer and smattering of applause, " have identified a few remaining gaps in their theory. First and foremost, what are your thoughts on the appropriate weaponry to use that can penetrate such a small target and explode with enough energy to trigger the reaction? Don't forget, the exhaust ports themselves are ray shielded."
More quiet scribbling. Then, a young woman with a flight jacket pulled haphazardly over her Alliance-issued pajamas spoke up. "It's just back of the envelope, sir, but I think a proton torpedo should work and would get past the ray shielding without a problem."
"Yeah, but who's gonna make that shot?" A group of pilots in the back of the room laughed. "You science types sure seem think a lot of us." More laughter. "Theory ain't reality, you know.."
Dodonna clapped his hands for quiet. "This is what we have for now. The Alliance never would have formed if we waited for a perfect opportunity, and we are going to do like we always do and make the best of what we have available to us. Now, Antilles, Darklighter, you stay here. Dr. Ogali, your team as well. We're gathering in thirty minutes for a planning meeting and I want you all to be there. Formad, you grab three mechanics and get me an assessment of every snub fighter we have in working order before that meeting starts. The rest of you are dismissed for now."
General Dodonna had insisted that the Organas use his private quarters while at the Yavin base. They finally retreated, more to find a respite from the constant attention of the command staff and the Alderaanis on base than to get any actual rest. Breha lay stiffly on the bed, staring at the ceiling. From across the small room, Bail could hear her ragged breathing as she fought to keep from crying.
They both started at the sound of a knock on the door. Bail stood, leaning his head back to work some of the tension out of his neck.
It was Dodonna.
"I think we may have found a possible weakness in the Death Star," he told them. Breha sat up, curious. "I thought you might want to be there for the strategy meeting."
"You think you can destroy it?" Bail said, astonished.
"I hope so, yes. It's going to take a long shot, but with luck on our side…I've asked General Kenobi to join us as well. I still can't believe you've found him."
"More that he found us," Bail corrected. "We have Kenobi to thank for ensuring that those technical readouts made it here."
Dodonna squatted next to the bed, where Breha now sat straightening her dress and hair. "We also owe an unimaginable debt of gratitude to your daughter." He took her hand. "Her sacrifice could be the turning point in the battle against the Empire and we will never forget that."
"Thank you," Breha whispered.
The battle was planned, the pilots recruited, the ships prepared. Obi Wan was offered a ship and politely declined, citing his lifelong distaste for space battles. Outside the control room, Captain Solo tapped his foot. He had his down payment, but every time he tried to reach either the Organas or Dodonna they somehow seemed to be busy on the other side of the base. He looked over his shoulder to see if Chewbacca was anywhere nearby, but the Wookiee had made the mistake of volunteering to assist with loading torpedoes onto the X and Y wings that the rebels planned to use against the massive battle station. A waste of time, thought Solo, still absolutely convinced that the snub fighters would have no effect on the giant weapon.
Luke clearly bought into the rebel's optimism. After running into an old friend from Tatooine, Solo had hardly seen him since they'd arrived. He had enthusiastically volunteered to fly a fighter on the mission in spite of his inexperience, though Solo had to admit that the Kid's scores were impressive. Luke didn't know that Solo had trained on fighters during his time in the Imperial Navy, but he still puffed up with pride when Solo casually complimented his techniques.
Belief in the Force or not, Solo's own danger sense went wild when the conference room finally emptied and Dodonna approached him with a smile.
"So have found my credits?" Solo asked before Dodonna could make any more requests. No such luck.
"To start, I want to again express my appreciation for your contributions to our efforts," Dodonna started.
"I haven't made any contributions," Han protested. "I'm just a paid contractor."
"We've done an assessment of our capabilities, and we need some additional ships with robust communications systems to help coordinate the battle on site. Your ship is a perfect candidate."
"No. Just no. Battle?!" Han held up his hands and stepped back. "The Falcon is not going to be part of any battle!"
"You wouldn't be in the line of fire," Dodonna assured him. "We would just need you to hang back and stay in comm range."
"And let me guess…you'll double my fee?"
"Well…"
"Well, what?"
"Your partner indicated…"
Solo raised his eyebrows and looked around for the Wookiee, who was still nowhere to be seen. Probably on purpose.
"Look, General. My partner is not the captain of the Falcon. I am. And I want my money and I want to leave. Your secrets are all safe with me, don't worry, but no offense- I want nothing more to do with you. I've gotten in way over my head as it is."
Dodonna sighed. "There's nothing I can say to change your mind?"
Solo started to shake his head, but was interrupted by a roar. Chewie.
"Will you excuse us for a moment, General?" Solo grabbed Chewie by the arm and tried to pull him towards a corner, but the Wookiee roared again, waving his arms. "Whoa, slow down there!"
Bail and Breha came out of the conference room with Obi Wan in tow, and Solo noticed the queen smirking at him. So she could understand Chewbacca…
Thankfully, no one else in the immediate vicinity knew exactly how viciously Chewie was ripping Solo a new one. He started with a long exposé of the various deficiencies and lack of permanent relationships in Solo's ancestry. He moved onto a detailed explanation of exactly what would happen to Solo if he was caught by Imperial forces while carrying out his current profession. Finally, and most effectively, Chewbacca explained in excruciating detail exactly what he would do to his partner if Solo didn't agree to help the Rebels. A working knowledge of Shyriiwook was hardly necessary to comprehend the threats Chewie was making. As the rest of the pilots and techs filed out of the conference room, a small circle formed around the pilot and the Wookiee, mouths gaping.
"Fine!" Solo growled finally. "But I want my money in advance."
"Of course," Dodonna responded mildly, nodding at Chewbacca. The Wookiee grinned, baring his teeth and smacked Solo on the back.
"So when do we get going?" Solo asked. "Would be nice if I could finish up a couple repairs before Chewie gets us killed."
"As soon as we find out where the Death Star is," Dodonna said. "Until then, everyone get some rest."
