Wylan hadn't realised how much he missed plant life.

There was a lot of it at base, and had been on Naboo, and Yavin IV before that, but he'd spent so much time on ships in hyperspace recently that he'd forgotten how fresh air could be when it wasn't recycled every six hours, or how warm light could be when it actually came from a star, and not electronic fixtures above their heads.

Endor brought it all back. Trees as tall as he'd ever seen them, ferns that came up to his waist, and many that went further. . . General Kir-Bataar had asked him to pick up the pace three times already, his wonder with it all causing him to wander and trail behind her disciplined Pathfinders.

"According to the intel," according to Inej's intel, he noted, "the base of the shield generator should be just up ahead, so watch out for stormtroopers."

There was a rustling in the bushes behind him and Wylan turned, startled, but saw none of the stark white armour he was afraid he would see.

"What are the larger species native to this moon?" he murmured to Jesper. "Any sentients?"

"As I understand it," Jesper replied, "there is a sentient species native to this moon called Ewoks, who come up to about my leg, or your shoulders," Wylan scowled at the smirk he wore as he said that, "and are essentially walking, talking teddy bears. I hope we don't run into any," he added idly. "I wouldn't want them to get caught up in this. I mean, can you imagine a bunch of teddy bears attacking and defeating an Imperial garrison?"

"In a kids' holo, perhaps."

They grinned at each other, distracted, and almost walked into Matthias.

"Get down!" he barked at them, making a violent motion with his hand. Wylan, well-trained after several years with him as a bodyguard, didn't question it and dropped like a stone.

"Stormtroopers," he heard Nina, half submerged in shrubbery, hiss. He shifted to get a better look.

And sure enough, there was the stark white armour he'd been expecting. The shape of the helmet was slightly different to that of normal stormtroopers; he breathed a sigh of relief. They were only scout troopers - and there were only four of them at that. Even so, if they were caught. . .

"We can't let them see us," he murmured.

"We can't let them report back," Nina corrected. "There's no way to get round them without being noticed - I vote we take them out and steal their speeder bikes. It'll make our journey time that much shorter."

Tamar shifted in the undergrowth and pulled out a pair of macrobinoculars. Peering through them, she said, "They have orders to check in every rotation, which is where they change patrols. Their absence would be noticeable, and raise suspicions."

"How long is a rotation?" Nina's eyes were narrowed in the direction of the troopers.

"Six hours."

Wylan blew out a breath between his teeth. The fleet would have jumped to hyperspace from where it was docked at Sullust an hour after they landed on the moon, according to the schedule; the hyperspace trip was about eleven hours, and he didn't know how much time they'd wasted trekking through the undergrowth.

So he asked. "How long do we have to get the shield generator down?"

Tamar consulted her chronometer. "Seven hours."

"And how long will it take them to react and repair or reinstall the shield generator?" Nina asked pointedly.

Tamar turned to Wylan and Jesper for the answer - the former being the demolitions expert, the latter being their best mechanic present.

Wylan said, "The demolitions I have will disable it pretty effectively, and maybe - if we're lucky - start an electrical fire."

He turned to Jesper, who frowned. "So. . . with the damage that would do. . . the size the generator would have to be. . . It would take at least two rotations to repair it."

"Twelve hours?" Nina turned to Tamar. "See? We can take this lot out, and if we've destroyed the generator by the time the patrol is supposed to check in, they won't be suspicious - they'll know we're here by the destruction we'll cause."

Tamar considered it, head tilted to the left, then nodded. "Alright," she conceded. "We can use those bikes for recon of the sort of defences they have set up there. Pathfinders," she raised her voice slightly as she gave the order, "engage."

Nina smiled slightly, and Wylan felt a rush of fear at the expression. She reached out her hand-

And Jesper tackled her.


"What are you doing?" Nina snapped as blasters began firing, the melee of shots thankfully flying right over their heads. No one ever said stormtroopers had good aim.

Nevertheless, they were too close for anyone's liking. Jesper threw them both aside, behind a bush. "You are not using the Force choke thing on them," he told her fiercely. At her attempt at protest, he argued, "Inej told me what happened with Oomen, and I told her what happened in Pekka's palace. We're worried about you. You don't have the doctrines of the Jedi to keep you on the straight and narrow anymore, so we will. Inej isn't here," he placed a hand on Nina's shoulder, "but I am."

For a moment, she wanted to argue. She wanted to kick him off and punch something, choke someone-

But that was the Dark Side talking.

She sighed, and leaned into his touch.

"I know," she said. "I'm sorry."

He smiled. "I know you are." He looked up at Wylan. "They finished shooting each other to bits yet, lordling?"

Wylan huffed a laugh as he turned to behold the smoking corpses of the troopers in the undergrowth ahead, and the four speeder bikes they'd left behind. "Yeah," he said, "they're done."


"I gave you orders to stay on the Devastator," Morozova said. "Why are you not on your command ship?"

"A small Rebel force has penetrated the shield and landed on the Sanctuary Moon. I believe they're trying to destroy the shield generator."

The Emperor just waved his hand. "Yes, I know. What of it?"

Koroleva paused then. It was a slight pause, but not slight enough for Morozova, who was attuned to everything, to not notice it. "Zenik is with them."

That made him sit up and take notice - especially when coupled with her pause. "And someone else."

It wasn't a question.

Her reply stuck in her throat. "The Rebel General, Tamar Kir-Bataar." She sighed when she said it, but there was nothing else she could say. She'd sacrificed her right to Tamar's friendship a long time ago; now, despite their fraught relationship, the Emperor was all she had left.

She could feel his glee, not just see it from the slow smile that took over his face. Nevertheless, he was cautious. "Are you sure?"

"I have felt it."

"Strange, then, that I have not," he mused. "But it is of no importance. If Zenik and Kir-Bataar are as near as you say, I will send Agent Lazareva to find them, and bring them to us. I want them to watch their Rebellion burn."

"Lazareva?" She couldn't keep the disgust out of her voice - not just for her in particular, but for the Hands in general. The Sith always worked in pairs, he had told her; what place did they have among those of the Dark Side?

He nodded, his irritation at her questioning his orders clear.

"She failed to take care of the Wraith and to see the simplest of trade deals through with even a low-minded being such as a Hutt. She's failed-"

"-less than you have in recent months, my old friend." The title was a sneer. "She will not fail me now, whereas you might."

She hated him so, so much. She tried to draw on that hatred, use it to bolster herself - her resolve and her powers - but it danced away from her, evading her grip. She'd never managed to hold onto it for extended periods of time and now, when she was so uncertain, that shortcoming kept coming back to bite her again and again.

"Return to your flagship," he ordered. "I will send for you when Lazareva has succeeded in her mission."

There was nothing else she could say. There was nothing else left for her to say, other than, "Yes, my master."


"We'll set up a camp, of sorts," General Kir-Bataar said as she shrugged off her pack. "Van Eck can assemble the demolitions here while four patrols go out to scout the area, two people per patrol. Two patrols with speeder bikes, two without them. You two," she pointed to four of her Pathfinders, "go on foot. You two," another two Pathfinders, her brother's this time, "you take two of the bikes. Fahey," she turned to Jesper, "you and Ruby get the other two."

Jesper turned to see who she was gesturing to: a blonde-haired human female about the same age as the General, with a tattoo of a sunburst covering half her face. He nodded at her, and she nodded back.

"If you can't find your way back to camp, I have a homing beacon operating on a cloaked frequency," Tamar continued, drawing back her sleeve to reveal a small, violet device on the inside of her left arm. "Access the frequency, and you'll be able to find your way back. Understood?"

There was a chorus of affirmatives, then Tamar dismissed them. "Then to your stations."

Jesper turned to get one of the speeder bikes, but someone grabbed his wrist. It was Nina.

He met her eyes, wide and earnest. "Thank you," she said. "For stopping me from strangling those troopers."

"Anytime," he said flippantly, finding himself oddly uncomfortable with how sincere this conversation was.

"I mean it, Jesper." There was an aborted attempt at a laugh, then: "You and Inej. . . you're really worried about me?"

He was the one who tried - and failed - to laugh, this time. " You're our friend. It's a job to worry about you."

Nina glanced at the ground, the back up again. She made to say something, then-

"Fahey!" He looked over his shoulder to see Ruby waving at him. "We're heading off!"

"Well, I guess it's my job to worry about you now," Nina said in response, a lot more cheerful than she had been for the rest of the conversation. It felt feigned, but he went with it anyway.

Until he met her gaze, and she had to look away. "May the Force be with you." Her voice cracked.

He squeezed her should lightly, then let his hand drop. "And you." He let Nina's hand drop as he took a step back.

As he walked away, he felt her watching him leave, even as he climbed onto a speeder bike beside Ruby and zoomed off into the forest.


Kaz had been insufferable since they'd jumped to hyperspace, but it wasn't like it was a surprise. Being insufferable was his way of dealing with stuff. For instance, right now he was dealing with his fear of the imminent battle by harassing every gunner they'd brought onboard the Barrel in the minutiae of how to treat the various parts of his beloved ship.

Dirix, in the seat next to her, raised an eyebrow. "Is he always like this?"

Inej sighed and slumped against the pilot's seat. "Yes. Yes he is."

He smirked. "Then I can see why you like him."

She gave him a glare from under her eyelashes. Dirix was one of the best pilots in Green Squadron, and he was pretty respectful most of the time - it was part of the reason she'd asked him to fly Kaz's precious Barrel; he wouldn't bash it up just to be mean - but he was nosy. Very, very nosy.

"How long until we reach our destination?" she asked in an attempt to forestall further questions (and innuendos). They'd jumped to hyperspace the moment they'd received the signal from Tamar indicating that they'd made it safely to the moon, and they had to be well into the trip by now.

Dirix glanced at the navicomputer, then the chrono. "Five hours."


Wylan had just finished unloading and constructing an explosive charge for perhaps the thousandth time when there was a rustling in the trees behind him. His head jerked up suddenly, very nearly spilling the two explosive charges. He struggled to right himself quickly; when apart, the two liquids contained in the charges were harmless, but once they interacted. . . Well, they did some damage.

He took a deep breath as he righted himself, then inserted the fuse. There. Done.

He was still shaking slightly.

"Are you alright, Wylan?" Matthias went into instant panic mode. "What happened?"

He shook his head distractedly. "I'm fine, I just got startled by a sudden movement in the bushes. Nearly spilt the charges." That should have been the end of the matter, except-

"I felt something too," Nina said, frown creasing her face. "I'll go and investigate it."

"Don't," Wylan said without thinking, suddenly, inexplicably, having a bad feeling about this. "I'm sure it's nothing. Just. . . I don't know. Jesper said there were creatures called Ewoks on this moon? It was probably just them."

"I'm with Nina," General Kir-Bataar said. She jerked her chin at the direction the sound had come from. "We should check it out anyway. I'll go with you to investigate. No one should be walking off alone, and Helvar is needed to watch over Van Eck while the Pathfinders maintain the perimeter."

Wylan still didn't like the idea, but it wasn't like he could object, was it?

So he didn't.

But he couldn't shake the feeling he got, watching Nina's retreating back, like he'd never see her again.


"Where did you sense they were, exactly?" Tamar asked, once they'd been trekking for around ten minutes, the camp out of earshot behind them. Nina frowned and stretched out with her senses again.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "They were around this area, but since then they've moved." Which just made it harder for them to spot. There were many places to hide in their immediate vicinity - too many.

She stretched out again. Focus. She closed her eyes in attempt to grasp on to that single, elusive Force signature. "Wait, I can feel them. They should be. . ."

Tamar was silent as she trailed off, focusing, searching. Silence was odd for Tamar, who always had something to say, but Nina figured she'd spent enough time around Jedi to know how to let them focus.

"Right. . . here?" She was confused now. The signature had coalesced into something vaguely familiar, and it should be standing. . . right in front of her.

She opened her eyes.

The first thing she saw was the fury on Tamar's unconscious face. The second thing she saw was the mercenary holding her up.

"Drop your saber."

It wouldn't do much good - Nina was a Jedi after all, and could summon it to her hand at will. It would just take a little longer. But the mercenary - no, Emperor's Hand - holding Tamar with a blaster to her head clearly knew that any momentary advantage she could get over her was worth it.

"You must be Dunyasha," Nina said conversationally.

Dunyasha bared her teeth in a sort of smile. It was undoubtably her: she had the same amber hair and eyes, wore the same outfit. Inej had been right about her. "And you're Nina Zenik." She jerked her chin towards Tamar. "My master wants to speak to you both."

"What if I don't want to speak to him?"

Dunyasha kept a tight hold of Tamar, and flicked the blaster off the stun setting, to kill. "Then your general dies."

Nina swallowed. "Then you'll have failed your mission. Your master won't be pleased."

"All he cares about is Kir-Bataar's death," Dunyasha snapped. "He doesn't care where or when she dies - preferably in his company, in front of Lady Koroleva, while the last dregs of the Rebellion die with her, but as long as she is dead," she pressed the blaster further into Tamar's head, "I have succeeded."

Nina's mind was racing. They needed to get that shield generator down, or Inej and her forces would be pulverised. They needed Tamar's leadership and experience to do that.

So it wasn't really even a decision to reach out and summon her lightsaber to hand, more like instinct, like the only logical thing to do.

But Dunyasha was logical as well. And she was faster than Nina.

She dropped Tamar and had her blaster up and shooting before Nina could even light her saber. Nina dodged the first. Deflected the second, the third. Jumped the leg aiming to kick her, deflected the fourth-

The fifth seared a hole through her fatigues, numbing her arm and making her fingers spasm. She dropped her lightsaber.

She glanced up at Dunyasha, and the last thing she saw was the blue ring of the stun shot that hit her full in the chest.