28 The Epic: ON THE SCALE OF PLANETS

With every blast and shudder, it forced her to steady herself and she feared the possibility of being non-existent in a flash. And yet she faltered a moment, fixated on the panorama of destruction beyond the docking bay opening - drawn up to the edge by the scantly believable, surreal display. Sparks of red and green lasers, shattered and burning flagships brightly lit the black field of stars. Star Destroyers, capital ships and starfighters flashed explosions in the near distance, followed by another, and then another. Their vibrance was at once beautiful and terrifying.

The looming moon of Endor was pulling into range, as the Death Star had turned away from firing at Alliance capital ships. Palpatine had left a standing order to destroy the moon if the Rebels managed to deactivate the shield generator. Jerjerrod had tactfully objected the order's issue - there were battalions of Imperial troops on the moon – only to have had the Emperor spat back the command a second time in disgust. These were circumstances of which Eva was blissfully ignorant. Despite the rumors trickling from Service Sector level 23, 00-10, Jerjerrod could not presume the Emperor's fate. Eva had yet to contact him.

Countless other Imperial craft were launching from the surrounding docking bays - most readied for battle, but many to clear the Death Star.

"Non-essential personal are being evacuated on Grand Moff Jerjerrod's orders, " the Commander was breathless at her side.

If fact, Vader had sent the same warning she'd received to Jerjerrod. The Empire deserved the loss of their most horrific weapon, yet the same fate was not justified for the crew. But Jerjerrod could follow Vader's orders only to a point, as they were radically inconsistent with the Emperor's line of directives. The compromise was the evacuation of the few that in no way interfered with the battle actively waged.

The Commander's eyes rolled over the questionable bundle hidden in black cloth, Eva's fingertips steadying the edge of the hovering pallet and the stains on her robe that may, or may not have been blood.

A muffled, far away blast and the docking bay shuttered again. Fires sparked by the proximity of the Executor's wreckage continued to set off a chain of internal explosions.

Then standing silently, the two of them looked on again, neither of them having personally seen a live battle so monumentally destructive, and neither of them admitting as much. But their silence spoke for them. Everyone around was witnessing their world crumble, in the most spectacular display possible.

Despite the crisis, readied on the floor of the docking bay was the mini-armada of five TIE escorts. They flanked an immaculate, Lambda-class T-4a shuttle. The Empire's elite of the line, the modified model was reserved for passengers of the most consequence, and it was testimony to the clout of the individual whose access Eva had used. Her eyes narrowed, trying to determine if it Palpatine's personal shuttle.

Eva wasn't game for hubris the Imperials possessed. The gleaming shuttle had 'target' written all over it. She whipped around as an Imperial medical transport whished by the docking bay opening, quickly receding into the distance. A frigate as such, would be the least likely fired upon by the Alliance. Rebel spinelessness.

"Tell that transport to wait the jump to hyperspace till we dock!" She was off, choosing instead to scramble for one of the faster TIE escorts. Only for a minute, would she have to navigate the firefight. She hesitated and looked back at the Emperor's body, unknowing that in a nearby docking bay (with a little more dignity and less hysterics), Luke was sorrowfully attending an expiring Vader.

At that moment, Rebel Red and Gold Squadrons were flying through the Death Star for an assault on the reactor. Jerjerrod reluctantly gave orders to open power discharge gates to flood certain sectors of the superstructure in order to slow them from accessing the reactor core. The act of self-destruction, the loss of life in its wake, revealed just how dire the situation had become.

As Eva climbed into the cockpit the reality of it set in. Dropping down to stand on the pilot's seat, her knees almost buckled. Nearly all her practice was running stale and had been in simulators, where her chances of being seriously killed were slim to none.

The core system activated, the control panel's switched lights turned on in near unison and the craft shuddered to life. The TIE's rightful pilot leaned in to hand her a communications headset and to set the Lambda shuttle to ping for her ("You'll only have 20-25 minutes without the helmet and life support suit." Yeah, yeah, yeah). Eva took a deep breath, that she found she could not draw in evenly, and a knot twisted her gut.

But what should have been a minute's travel would become nine, and the nine would feel like an eternity…

She'd barely got her bearings after takeoff when an automated warning indicated the TIE was being approached from behind. Approached by what?

Approached by everything…

She twisted around to see out the small rear viewport, and caught a glimpse as a golden flare lit up the inside of the TIE. If the armada had been where it was only a minute before…

The energy expended from the Death Star's explosion shook the woefully small TIE nearly to pieces. She took a breath and held it. The greatest plans…lost in flames. So many lives…

And then there was the debris…

The remains of the battle station began sweeping over, bombarding the solar panel wings and cockpit. Eva pushed the acceleration to the limit. A moment's panic ensued as she tried to recall the controls to switch the small round target screen to the rear view. It was so rarely used. There was an audible warning when someone was barreling down your backside, but TIE fighters were all about taking out what was in front of you.

Oh kriff...oh kriff kriff kriffing kriff!...Oh right...that's how you do it. It was all she could manage, to dive and roll to avoid the projectiles of war moon hurling at her. As pieces collided, their trajectories became unpredictable.

Layer upon layer - she learned to take in one piloting skill after another, so that she was aware of everything at once and could respond without thinking. The routine quelled panic, and the ease of her reflexes emboldened her. One eye remained on the rear display, while navigating what was in front of her out of the corner of the other. Though Vader wasn't there to guide her through the crisis, she was using the skills he had insisted she learn.

On the floor, tucked in the small space behind the single seat and hastily shoved under a cargo net, the glory of the Empire was reduced to a basic TIE with a less than stellar pilot. The TIE's rightful pilot had helped her heave the Emperor's body up to the open hatch, to drop to the floor.

An unfamiliar, automatically generated warning that was a cryptic blip sounded. Eva glanced across her instruments, trying to find the source. A few moments and it sunk in. Her target destination was lost and the TIE was only indicating its last known location. The Lambda shuttle was gone, not quite having the speed and agility to avoid flying debris, despite its stronger hull. Eva swiftly sorted through the available readouts for the medical transport, and felt the intense cold setting in.

Another warning and the colored outline of a starfighter lit one of the displays. A Rebel X-wing was one her tail, and what hope did she have against a veteran pilot as surely was everyone out there, but herself? She flew in close to a city-sized portion of Death Star wreckage for cover.

The X-wing deployed a missile, then another. And by then, her countermeasures were depleted and recharging. In that instant, a vivid memory rushed back to her.

Vader, behind the controls. Alone with him in the trainer TIE. He had found a particularly close knit pack of small asteroids, and kept flying through at full speed. And when he'd cleared them he'd loop around for another pass, swerving round and round the makeshift obstacle course, into the blinding light of a nearby sun. "What speed could we collide and survive impact in a TIE bomber with a standard hull? With a TIE Interceptor?" With a TIE Defender?..." And on and on she was grilled. And though it seemed cruel and unnecessarily dangerous at the time, she would realize how incredibly unique to have witnessed Vader having fun. He was actually playing, as though he was Anakin once more. Furthermore, she'd well memorized the survivable speed of impact in her TIE Fighter.

A glance down at the instruments, slowing…slowing… and she bounced the TIE off the wreckage, leaving the missile to make impact in her wake. "That was lucky."

Of course, flight simulators were calculated to break apart at the same tolerances as actual craft. And she'd had plenty practice hitting things. She'd developed a kind of feel for it for which her fellow compatriots wouldn't be caught dead - battle hardened pilots who'd roll their eyes at her chaotic, by-the-seat-of-her-pants 'technique.' The whole training experience had been daunting and humiliating. And just when she'd get a handle on one type of craft, they'd expect her to learn to operate another…

The X-wing was nearing. She couldn't shoot back if she wasn't facing him - her laser cannons were forward mounted. Closing in on a transmitter mast projecting intact from the debris, she then slowed again - dramatically. And the pilot pursuing her delayed firing, for just a instant - out of overconfidence, curiosity. If you seem harmless, people underestimate you.

There was clearly not Imperial material piloting the TIE. Hesitation bought her a couple extra seconds, the ones that saved her life…

She caught the pole with her own craft – the short pylon between the cockpit body and the wing. Not hard enough to break the pole, or knock off her wing, and the TIE was instantly swung around for a direct shot…

Gamorrean brains had survived…

Hook the dead to life support.

To cauterize the legs or just let the new blood flow out?

The medical droids hadn't a clue what they were doing, but if Palpatine neglected to sleep when Vader was around, his lack of consciousness seemed to negate his power. Gamorrean brains had been reanimated, hours after death…

"Under similar conditions, we would induce coma…" The medical droid responded, its electronic, soothing approximation of a voice completely inappropriate for the circumstances. "…but the effectiveness of any treatment at this time is negligible."

"No Coma. Give him fluids and oxygen." Create consciousness in the brain and the brain will bring life back to the body.

Clearly Palpatine hadn't the clairvoyance to foresee this pitiful state he'd be in. 'Every conceivable contingency' Aloo had told her. She let out a suppressed sigh. Happenstance…it's all happenstance. Eva felt like she was going insane. Or maybe she just needed sleep.

For another hour, the medical transport sat in the Death Star's debris field, awaiting necessary repairs to the hull for hyperspace. No matter - the remaining Rebel fleet had cleared out, victorious.

An instantaneous, catastrophic loss of life - all the energy of those midi-chlorians freed and left in the empty space that was the wake of the Death Star…

"There are now coordinated electrical patterns, which would indicate sophisticated brain activity or even consciousness," the droid informed her.

… and one being may have gained from them.

Author's note: Most of these orders Jerjerrod really issued (such that Star Wars is real). They were in deleted scenes held out because of time. Too bad, as I think have the Death Star about to blow up Han, Leia and a mess-load of Ewoks would have added to the edge-of-your-seat quality. As well as immediate justification for killing all those Imperials - after all, they have moms too.