Approaching the Death Star gave Nina a nasty sense of déjà vu. Déjà vu of the Death Star peering over Eadu, of it advancing, like a god of death, on Yavin. . .

The shuttle docked with the battle station, and the corridors they were marched through held with common Imperial tendencies towards utilitarian and nondescript, the hard grey shapes harsh for her to behold. She still felt the last twitches of energy from that stun bolt, and it made her tremble as her feet smacked against the floor, until the corridors became more and more dimly lit and the stormtroopers and officers milling about - some of them turning to stare with open curiosity and hostility - made way for the apathetic red guards, who, in their crimson robes and full-face helmets, betrayed no emotion at the sight of two so clearly important Rebel prisoners.

They turned another corner, Koroleva still not saying a single word, Dunyasha trailing behind them, to see an elevator guarded by two of the Royal Guards, their Force pikes crossed over the entrance. At Koroleva's approach, they stood up straight and uncrossed their pikes, allowing her inside with her prisoners and escort.

This part of the Death Star was clearly completely built, Nina mused, right down to the varnish on the floors and paint on the buttons of the elevator. Where were the unfinished parts? She'd seen the plans, of course, showing that the tunnels to the main reactor hadn't been sealed off yet, but why? Why would the Emperor's quarters - which was very clearly where they were - finished before the battle station itself was even giving effective armour? Shields could only do so much; did they want people to try to destroy it?

Nina frowned. She didn't like the thought of that: the Empire rarely had such major oversights, unless they were intentional. Which meant. . .

. . .did they want people to try to destroy it?

She clenched her fists, her binders pressed into her wrists as she did so. Koroleva didn't notice the action - at least, she didn't react to it - but Dunyasha turned her head and smiled slightly, sickly yellow eyes glittering. Nina wanted to bite, to scratch, to snarl at her-

-but the elevator had stopped moving. And the doors were opening.

And the Emperor was there. Up the stairs, along a walkway, seated in a throne at that faced a large, circular viewport. The throne turned to face them, and Nina tried not to tense up at the sight of him.

He looked older than Nina's memory and the propaganda reels told her, but she supposed that made sense; his age made him look. . . frailer, far from the image of strength his Empire sought to promote. But his smile was the one Nina remembered the Supreme Chancellor - and, before that, Baghra's Lightling - wearing frequently when she was a child, and he lingered around the Jedi Temple. It was a deceptively warm smile, and now she knew what he was like, she had to wonder what sort of mind was behind it.

Dunyasha walked forward and knelt before his throne. For the first time, Nina noticed her lightsaber hanging from her belt, her satchel over her shoulder. That little-

The Emperor paid Dunyasha no heed. "General Tamar Kir-Bataar," he greeted solemnly, his smile dropping. He nodded at her next. "Lieutenant Nina Zenik. It's nice to finally meet you." He was quiet for a moment, as if he expected them to respond.

And Tamar did. Just not pleasantly. "I don't have a habit of making small talks with tyrants."

The amiable expression dropped completely from his face at that. Now, though his tone was light - taunting - his face was. . . murderous.

"Forgive me," he said, standing up. Despite his age, his posture was impeccable, his black suit and cloak unwrinkled. "I had forgotten that no member of the Soldat Sol ever had time for subtleties." His gaze flicked to Koroleva, standing just behind them - between them and the door. "Especially its leader."

If the taunt bothered her, Koroleva's mask hid it.

"What do you want, you monster?" Tamar asked. Nina didn't know if she was consciously mocking the slow way Morozova spoke, the high-class accent he sported, but just the action of it lifted Nina's spirits a little.

"With you?" The Emperor settled back onto his throne. "I want to you to witness the death of your Rebellion, and then I want Alina here to kill you." Both Koroleva and Tamar flinched slightly at the use of that name, but Tamar soon lifted her chin again and snarled.

"As for Zenik," the Emperor turned her gaze on her, "who has remained curiously quiet. . . I don't know. I'm debating whether or not I should make you watch your dear friend, the Wraith, be obliterated and your cause burn before I kill you, or simply make you another of my servants. Dear Dunyasha has been flagging recently," he eyed her, kneeling motionless on the floor."I could use a replacement."

"I'll never serve you," she spat, even as her heart beat hard against her chest. Inej, Inej, Inej.

"You'll come to reconsider, I'm sure," he said simply, settling back further into his chair. He lifted his right hand and gestured from Dunyasha to rise. With that same hand, he summoned Nina's lightsaber and satchel from her belt to his hand; the lightsaber was placed on the arm of his throne, satchel settled down next to it. "But, speaking of the Wraith, Dunyasha," he hesitated, then looked straight at Nina and said silkily, "get in your fighter and obliterate the sorry excuse of a freighter known as the Barrel."

Dunyasha unbent her knee and stood, back straight. "It will be done, my master."

As she left the room, Morozova smiled at Nina. "Soon, that will be you."

"You're wrong," she said heatedly. "Soon I'll be dead, and you with me."

"Nina. . ." Tamar hissed, then fell silent.

"Don't worry, Kir-Bataar," the Emperor assured her. "I already know about your imminent attack."

Tamar tensed, and Nina forgot to breathe. What-

"Who do you think allowed the Rebellion to know the location of the shield generator and the existence of this battle station in the first place?" he asked. "Thousands of my best troops are waiting on the moon below. Oh," he added, almost apologetically, "I'm afraid the shield will be quite operational when your friends arrive. And then. . ."

"They'll be slaughtered," Tamar said. Her lips were wan. "You-" Her face screwed up in anger; she leapt forwards, bound hands or no, screaming, "You monster-"

She stopped mid shout. She stopped in mid air, feet kicking off the ground, hands scrabbling at her throat.

Just like Oomen had.

That trick, the one Nina had used so exorbitantly, that Inej and Jesper had been afraid of, was being used by-

She turned to see Koroleva standing, a silver monolith, hand stretched out and finger and thumb pinched together.

-by her.

"Release her, Lady Koroleva." Morozova almost sounded bored. "If you kill her now, she'll miss the show."

"The shield generator isn't a machine," Jesper explained as they lay flat down on the grass and squinted over a ridge at it. He passed the macrobinoculars to Wylan. "It's more of a base, or a building, with the reactor that generates the shield at its core and the army barracks around it. If we want to destroy the generator, we'll have to either take out the control room, or we could take out the reactor. Then again," he added, half to himself, "that would probably wipe out the entire building, with us in it, so let's not do that."

"If we destroy the control room," Wylan said, peering through the macrobinoculars, "will the shield come down?"

"Of course, lordling," Jesper said with a confidence he didn't feel, turning to face him. "If we destroy the control room, there's no power being routed to keep the reactors working, so no shield. Shouldn't you know this?"

"I-" Wylan seemed to pick up on his teasing then; he blew out an exasperated breath between his teeth, and turned his head towards him. "You can be so difficult sometimes."

"I can," Jesper admitted, suddenly aware of how close his and Wylan's faces were. "I really can," he finished without the heat, and found himself leaning forward-

"What if the power's not routed from the control room, but from another source?" Matthias asked, jerking Jesper's mind back to the present. He scowled at him, but Matthias ignored him, taking the macrobinoculars off Wylan to survey the defences. "And how do we get inside to plant the charges in the first place?"

Jesper turned back to Wylan, but he'd already turned away, blast it. He scowled again.

And then again as Ruby, on his left, smacked the back of his head.

"Stay focused," she muttered, then raised her voice. "If the power's routed from another source, we'll have to find another way. But as for getting in. . . I have an idea about that." She held out her hand for the macrobinoculars and Matthias gave them to her. She scanned the outer layers of the patrols. "Jesper, can you make the bushes over there rustle a little, like someone's spying? They're already aware of a Rebel presence on the moon; they're bound to send someone to check it out."

"And?"

"And we'll take out those troopers, and steal their armour," she said, like she was explaining it to a child.

"They won't just let any trooper in that door," Matthias objected. "We'd need codes, clearances, the whole deal."

Wylan said slowly, "The thing about Imperials is that they're arrogant. They're cocky. I noticed a comlink attached to the door up there, to allow communication between the control room and the outside. If we stage an attack on the door and get someone in a stormtrooper helmet use it to claim that the Rebels have fled into the woods, and that they need extra troops or something, the Imperials will be too drunk on their own euphoria to think about the lack of clearance codes."

Ruby nodded. "That's brilliant."

Wylan smiled, then looked at him. "Jesper," he said, "get us that helmet."

Jesper huffed a laugh, then lifted his finger and reached for the Force. It sung brightly on this moon - so many plants, so many animals, so much life - and it came to him easily. It was a simple task to bend it to his will and rustle a few branches and leaves near to the trooper patrolling on his own.

The trooper instantly froze, suspicious, and went to investigate. Jesper couldn't contain his smile.

"Wait," said Matthias. "Who's gonna wear the helmet?"

"I will," Wylan offered.

"Nah," Jesper cut in, tossing him a smirk, "you're too short to be a stormtrooper."

"Hey-!"

"And Matthias is too tall," Ruby mused. "Jesper should do it."

He whirled on her. "Wait, what-"

"Then it's decided." Of course Wylan was grinning at that, the smug little- "Jesper will take out the trooper and infiltrate the base. He's got that fancy Core accent as well," he added. "He'll fit right in."

"Blast you both," Jesper said as he got up to go deal with the trooper, but he was smiling as he said it.

"Your Rebellion's a little late, isn't it?" Morozova mused. Nina fumed, mutinous. She was glad they weren't here yet, glad that Jesper and the others down on the moon had every last possible second to take out that generator, glad that if Inej was going to die in this battle, she still had a little while left to live.

But even those tumultuous thoughts weren't what occupied the bulk of her attention. Now, she was focused on probing the binders around her wrists with the Force, testing their weak points, until finally-

There was a loud snap as they fell off her hands and she leapt away from Koroleva and Tamar.

"Congratulations," the Emperor drawled, sounding bored again. "You performed a simple feat with the Force we could never have predicted you would."

She didn't listen. Instead of listening, she reached out her hand and summoned her lightsaber to her from where it lay on the arm of his throne. It landed squarely in her hand; she ignited it, its pink glow hurting her eyes in the dim light, and slashed through Tamar's binders. The general rubbed her wrists even as Nina turned her attention away from her, onto the only person she hated more than Morozova.

Koroleva.

Koroleva, whose crimson blade was already lit and coming up to parry hers. Koroleva, whose silver armour reflected the blending of red and pink light in sickly, twisted shapes.

Koroleva, who lifted her hand and sent Tamar flying into the wall at speeds that could kill her.

But they didn't, thank the Force; she cried out on impact and all the breath left her body in one oomph when she crumpled to the floor, but Nina could still feel her erratic heartbeat through the Force. She was, surprisingly, mercifully, miraculously, alive.

Koroleva draw back her hand, a non-existent wind played with the edges of the red cape, the same colour as the cloaks and armour of the Royal Guards. She said in a slow, merciless voice that the vocoder only enhance, "I'd prefer to only deal with one inconvenience at once."

Inconvenience? Nina slashed and stabbed, but she was blocked every time. Her heart beat wildly, and her strikes were even wilder; after a while, Koroleva just seemed to be batting aside her lightsaber with little to no effort at all.

And she was batting her back as well, Nina realised. Back and back and back, closer and closer to-

She screamed.

She screamed as intense heat and pain hit her back and her nerves were on fire, her skin was on fire, everything was on fire as her muscles writhed of their own accord and she collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down her face-

It stopped very suddenly, leaving her with only the scent of burning from the scorch marks on her fatigues.

Koroleva had pushed her closer to the Emperor. The Emperor, who was a known user of the Sith power Force Lightning.

She gagged on her voice before she whispered, "You-" It was all she could get out before she was overtaken by a fit of coughing, back still racked with spasms, legs trembling too much to hold her.

Her lightsaber twitched on the floor, then flew towards her. It whacked her in the head before the Emperor summoned it back to him.

"Young fool," he sighed, as if this was a common occurrence. Then he stuck his hand out and Tamar, who'd just managed to stagger to her feet, was yanked into midair by the throat.

He dropped her in front of the massive viewport. She landed in a crouch position, like a cat, and for a moment Nina thought she would complete the simile and hiss at the Emperor.

Morozova pretended he hadn't noticed. "Oh look," he said, as a single shape began to coalesce beyond the viewport. Then another, then another. . ."Here comes your fleet."

"Hey!" Ruby shouted, standing up from among the thick undergrowth. "Bucketheads!"

At least a dozen troopers snapped their heads round to look at her. "It's the Rebels!"

Several of them opened fire at once, even though she was out of range. And that was before the four Pathfinders in the sky got to work on them.

Wylan had learned a lot of things on this mission, but one in particular was that Pathfinders weren't just good at. . . well, finding paths. Another of the many skills in their repertoire was tree-climbing.

Especially tree-climbing when holding a blaster.

Especially tree-climbing, then using the tree they'd climbed as a spot from which to open fire on unsuspecting stormtroopers.

Chaos ensued. At first, the stormtroopers couldn't tell where the fire was coming from, and began firing blindly upwards, their aim even worse than the aim they were notorious for. One stormtrooper tried to alert the control centre: Wylan saw him activate the comlink, saw an officer's face appear on the screen, but the trooper was shot dead before he could get out much more than "Rebel. . . attack. . ."

Then the remaining eight Pathfinders on the ground, along with Ruby, Wylan and Matthias opened fire from the ground, taking cover behind the trees, rather than in them.

The chaos intensified.

One trooper charged Wylan; he sidestepped their shots neatly and shot them in the side when they passed him by. Another two tried to box him in, but a well timed blast from the Pathfinder above his head had one of them staggering into the other, knocking them both over, making them easy targets.

Wylan saw Jesper ran into the melee then, his stormtrooper armour identical to the others', and got right to the door. From there, he shot two troopers in the back. Then another two. Then another two.

Soon enough, there was no stormtroopers left in the clearing.

Jesper waltzed up to the comlink and contacted the control room. "The Rebels have been routed, sir, and they're fleeing into the woods," he said, the helmet interfering with his voice. "We need reinforcements to continue the pursuit."

The officer grinned as he turned around to the others in the control room, vaguely visible in the image behind him. "You heard the man - send a squad out!" The connection was cut off, and the Rebels crouched just next to the door, ready to enter the moment it opened. Jesper sliced the comlink up for good measure.

It slid open. Stormtroopers poured out halfway into the glade before they stopped to look around, confused. The Rebels had already slipped in by that point.

Wylan turned to see Jesper pause in the doorway and give the Imperials a jaunty salute just as the door closed, then laugh at the sound of them banging on it to try to open it. Wylan guessed that several were jabbing the buttons on the comlink, trying to get it to work, but Jesper had destroyed it.

"You're insufferable," Wylan told him.

"I know." He held out a hand for an explosive; Wylan tossed him one. "Now let's go set those charges."

Inej was on her off-shift, in the back of the Barrel playing dejarik when the call came. Kaz's rancor smashed into her wampa just as the onboard comms spat out static that resolved into Dirix's voice. "Coming up on our destination. Inej get to the cockpit; gunners, get to your stations."

She hit the power-off button on the dejarik table and the holographic animals disappeared. After a glance and a small smile at Kaz - his shoulders had gone suddenly tense, his lips pinched together - she headed into the cockpit and slid into the pilot's chair. She spared Dirix a tight smile as well; he returned a likewise tight one.

She wasn't tense, per se - at least, not the way Kaz was. She was more. . . jittery. It was natural to be nervous - afraid - before any space battle, let alone a major one like this, let alone one she was leading. And all those natural nerves had been building inside her during the hours of the trip, all the pent up energy shuddering, and shuddering, until it manifested itself as the trembles in her hands as they darted over the controls, in her feet as she braced them against the floor.

"Thank you, by the way," Dirix said suddenly.

She glanced over at him, nerves fraying even further. She tried for a strained laugh, "What?"

"For what you did at Yavin," he said, looking down at the console and grasping the controls tightly. "I know it's commonly said that you're the only one who survived the battle - certainly, you're the only one who survived until the very end. But I was there. I survived it, and I wouldn't have without you."

She must have still looked confused, because he clarified in a quiet voice, "I was part of Red Squadron, before I joined Green Squadron. I was Red Seven."

"Your engines were damaged," she said slowly, the memories dawning on her. "I-"

"Ordered me to get back to base, yes." He looked up at her, then, then immediately back down. "I'm alive because of you. And because you blew up the battle station - the battle station I failed to blow up myself."

"Well, I believe in second chances," Inej said jokingly, glancing at the monitor, "and here's your second chance. We can do this."

"You're right," he said, invigorated, "we can." Then he muttered, "As long as the shield's down."

"Hey," Inej said, catching his eye. "Don't worry; my friends are down there. They'll get that shield down on time."

He nodded, but his jaw was still clenched.

"Or this'll be the shortest offensive of all time," she said under her breath. "Dropping out of hyperspace now."

There was a rapid deceleration, a dramatic shift in the humming of the ship as the hyperspace engines powered down, and the streaks around them became stationary stars once more. The planet Endor loomed very suddenly in front of them, and the Death Star orbiting its moon.

Inej switched on the comms. "All wings, report in."

"Red Leader, standing by."

"Grey Leader, standing by."

"Gold Leader, standing by."

"Lock S-foils in attack positions."

They shot right for the waiting monstrosity, Inej trying to keep a hold on the contents of her stomach at the sight of it. Senator - no, General Lantsov's voice echoed over the comms from where he was stationed on one of the cruisers. "May the Force be with us."

"Wait." Dirix was suddenly frantic, hands flying over the consoles. "Break off the attack. I can't get a reading on their shields."

"What?" That didn't make any sense. "We've got to be able to get a reading on that shield, up or down."

"Unless they're jamming us."

Inej's heart skipped a beat. "Jamming us? How could they be jamming us if they don't know-" Her throat went suddenly dry. "If they don't know we're coming?"

Their eyes met for a split second, then Inej was shouting into the comms. "Break off the attack, their shield's still up!"

"I get no reading," Red Leader said. "Are you sure?"

"Pull up!" But they were going so fast, not all pilots would be able to react in time- "All craft, pull up!"

Inej yanked on the controls and the Barrel reversed direction very suddenly, closing her eyes against the g-force generated. But she didn't close her eyes in time to miss seeing the starfighters that hadn't managed to pull up collide with seemingly empty space - and explode.

The light from the explosion briefly illuminated a pale blue shield.

The fleet was in panic. Even as she and Dirix spun and twisted the Barrel away from the Death Star she could see the cruisers balking and turning every which way - right into the waiting Imperial Fleet behind them.

"Enemy ships in sector three-seven!"

"It's a trap," Inej breathed, then they flew into the oncoming swarm of TIEs.