27 The Epic: the BEGINNING OF THE END

It did not require a tactical genius to know an assault upon the shield generator on the moon of Endor was a prelude to a larger attack to the Death Star itself. That's cold - that the Rebel Alliance would strike with their hero on board.

Now it had begun…

White faced and grinding her teeth, Eva listened to the updates filtering in on her comm. She sought Aloo's direct glance as he was the only other Courtier remaining in the windowless passageway. But he was too distracted and tense for another reason - Two Royal Guards dismissed from the Throne Room, were now standing sentry along with the four others at the sole exit of the turbolifts. Aloo had kept count, and knew the Emperor was alone in the tower with Vader and Luke.

Aloo stepped over to her just as a general warning sounded, indicating the alert status of the Death Star had been upgraded a second time. Eva self-consciously turned her comm off. "The Rebels have brought their fleet here for a reason," she quietly warned. "I mean, they must believe they have a chance. We're vulnerable somehow. If you so choose…the procedure…it's standard to evacuate important guests at this threat level." Her experience as Captain was in play.

No matter. His response was predictable. Aloo looked at her with tired sadness. Of course he wasn't going to leave. Nothing was going to drag either of them away from that turbolift exit. Which side possessed the damming hubris? Someone was going to burn.

The Death Star was now alive, disintegrating Rebel capital ships. If you were familiar with Death Star workings, (or looking out a well-placed viewport and made the association), you could feel it, slight as it was through the massive station, every time the insidious burst passed through. And then, "Shields are down for DS-2," she overhead two crew members discussing the events unfolding outside.

"Grand Moff Jerjerrod wants to talk to you," Aloo called for her attention and approached again to hold out his own comm.

Eva caught Aloo's disapproving stare. Whatever request Jerjerrod had, the proper channels were through him.

"Me?"

"He says you've not been answering your commlink."

Service Sector level 23, 00-10- was several decks deep within the surface of the Death Star, directly below. The uninhabited interior. "Go down there and make an identification," Jerjerrod had impatiently told her.

"Identify what?" She needed to stay put.

Jerjerrod had let out an exasperated sigh. He was in the midst of fighting the battle of his lifetime. "An officer is awaiting you at the tubolift exit. Comm me when you get there."

The turbolift doors parted. Eva didn't need guidance at all. Every trooper and crew scattered in the corridor beyond was silent, still and focused in unison. In the distance a black pile, apparently cloth, had been collected and lie on the floor. Not quite large enough to be human. The stormtroopers kept their distance from it, but clearly everyone's attention was directed at it.

All three wore black.

To her right, the concourse opened up to a chasm. The same shaft that ran up to the throne room and down to the reactor, passed where she was standing. The realization gave her a sinking feeling. Alarms began to sound, indicating a status of the highest alert. Someone was trying repeatedly to reach her on the commlink, but she was fixated on a stream of scarlet on the far shaft wall.

Her eyes followed the stain upward as she approached the railing. So very much blood, spattered with great violence just above at one of the struts extending out to the supports of the four turbolifts- more blood than it seemed possible for one person to hold. The walls were charred as well, and she could not understand why. Makeshift scaffolding in the form of a crane arm extended out over the chasm. She turned back to the pile of cloth and approached tentatively.

This was a nightmare.

Within the folds there was flesh there too. She dropped to her knees and gently parted the fabric…

Aloo stood outside the Emperor's turbolifts, the lights indicating one was about to open. He motioned readiness to the four Royal Guards and the trio of stormtoopers who stood near.

Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader stumbled from the parted doors, moving as though defeated. Vader's armor was discolored and wafted the scent of candescence. He was wheezing, barely on his feet, his missing hand hidden by his cape. Skywalker was without restraints. It was a tantalizing short distance to the next turbolift, the one that could return them to the docking bay.

"Don't go further," Aloo ordered. The Royal Guards sprang to life and poised for attack. The uncertain stormtroopers did nothing. Aloo seized the blaster of the closest for himself, as they watched Luke gently help Vader to the floor, propping him against the wall. He would never be able to rise on his own again.

"Contact the Throne Room," Aloo ordered the security officer.

And then Luke turned to face them.

Eva gasped and kneeled there frozen. Her barely recognizable Emperor. But she would not look away - the morbid fascination. All the possibilities of a sad state of flesh. My pitiful scrap of man, your plan didn't work out so well, did it?

"A medical capsule is on the way," an officer shouted to her above the alarms. She was sitting in a pool of Palpatine's blood, sticky and darker still than the black floor. Leaning over him and almost weeping, how long did she stay there? "Gather the rest of him," she despondently ordered. To have to ask, sickened her. Despair settled in her stomach.

"Cescily…" someone voiced… easing in like an intangible ghost in her imagination. "Cescily, your comm was off. I have a message from Vader. Anakin." It was Luke's voice …Inside her head. The device was live once again, and Luke's commlink was being relayed through the system aboard the Executor.

"He's warning you to evacuate, immediately. Are you hearing me?"

"Luke?..."

"Yes," he affirmed.

There was background noise, the whoosh of a turbolift door then alarms. She could hear Vader's erratic breathing as Luke was dragging him to the docking bay. His weak voice was telling Luke what to say.

"What's wrong with him?" she whispered, choking on the words. There were explosions, then static.

"…He says you're free of this," Luke continued. Never had he felt so vile, than standing victorious on a battlefield. "…I wish you luck."

And that was it, the point of Eva's entire presence and purpose. Every bothersome interaction the Emperor had made with her, he calculated for that very moment - a single thread of all outcomes to which he attended. Vader had inadvertently saved him, if he could just let Cescily know he still existed…

No. This is random, she would have contested. Have I no free will?

Eva looked up to the officer standing near and asked for a shuttle to be immediately readied. He put the order through but returned, "Affirmative. Docking bay 00125. But to depart, they tell me you will need clearance from the Supreme Courtier and Advisor."

Are you kidding me! She had just as well been knocked senseless. Eva realized she hadn't initiated itineraries since becoming a Courtier. If she wasn't actually traveling with the Courtiers, her arrangements had all been made by Sate Pestage's office. Or was this a new restriction leveled at her for deviating from her errand to meet Vader in the battle zone?

She patted the velvet folds of her bloodied robes and located the pocket for her commlink. Aloo didn't respond, but he'd left his own communicator open and she could overhear the distinct electronic projection of stormtrooper's voices. They were discussing 'the destruction.' They would be hearing her too, calling for Aloo, but they didn't pick up.

The concourse lighting dimmed then returned to full power. Most of those within sight were scattering, returning to their regular posts. Then Eva gathered herself and Palpatine too. Two of his fingers momentarily rested on her arm and then fell away in an eerie and subtle defiance of gravity.

None would help with the dead. It served no purpose. Although the Navy Fleet Trooper closest to her stayed long enough to help her stand again with the body. They placed it in the medical capsule. As it was only two thirds of Palpatine, the weight was not too much. Another officer tucked a brown boot on top. It pushed aside Palpatine's sleeve, and against all odds, his light saber was still there strapped to his arm. He'd never used it in the Throne Room.

Her back against a room-sized service-tubolift wall, she slid down to the floor once she realized the lifelessness in her legs made them barely willing to work. Eva used her commlink to again call for a shuttle at the docking bay closest. "Clearance code?" they asked.

"Rank override."

"We'll confirm rank when you arrive."

"Negative. Authorization by retinal scan. Let's get the process started." Eva retrieved her code cylinder, which anyone in Imperial restricted zone had to carry for free passage. As an officer they were kept in the open, in the chest pockets. Hers had to be dug out of the velvet pockets. She rose, unsteady, then leaned over the hovering medical capsule where the scrap that was Palpatine rested. His open, golden eyes stared at the netherworlds. Whatever horrific expression he may have held at death, had faded to null.

The eye scan could be sent ahead. It was a roundabout method of clearance, and she had little seen the Emperor forced to observe petty details such as security checkpoints. But perhaps records were still in the system from his days as Chancellor.

"The Executor has penetrated the surface of the DS-2," the officer's voice cracked over her commlink. He was speaking to those around him, not so much her.

Pierced it like a dagger into the beating heart of the Empire, was more apt. Poetic justice to take out Imperials with Imperials, the Rebels must have been smug.

Eva could barely begin to comprehend what he meant. Thousands more souls, and dear Piett.

The service-turbolift went dark and came to a rest. Stay calm. Rerouting to backup power source. The seconds were passing. She reached down to feel along the edges of medical capsule for the activation switches. The glowing tabs brought some light, at least.

Remember the training. Optimum number of TIE escorts, considering readiness… She listened to her own breathing. Rerouting to secondary power source. There was trouble out there. The wait was agonizing. Warn Jerjerrod…

Her sorrow was being pushed aside by an impression of torrential anger, and the feeling was not her own. She sensed something and looked down, her eyes attempting to adjust to the black. She was becoming fearful of the mess in her hands. Was that…?

Then power abruptly returned, although in dim emergency mode. She exhaled in relief.

"Transport clearance confirmed," a hurried voice interrupted the static of her comm.

The faintest gold had still illuminated his eyes.