This'll be the second-last chapter.


"Blast!" Kaz cursed over the comms.

"What's wrong?" Inej asked.

"Nothing," he said. "Just hit my cannon; it's alright, it's still operational." A pause. "I just really hurt my thumbs. . ."

Inej forced a laugh, then paused. "Kaz, stop firing. Let Dunyasha think she disabled your cannon."

"Why? How in the world would this help your plan?"

"Just trust me! Other gunners, keep firing."

Dirix bit his lip. "You know, this plan of yours is pretty reliant on getting through that shield."

"Well, it's a good thing my friends will get it down then, isn't it?"

"I'm not doubting them," he said, gritting his teeth as they swerved to avoid another TIE. "I'm doubting our ability to stay alive until they do it!"

Inej glanced at the readouts again, and felt her face be split in half by the Force of her grin. "Well then, it's our lucky day."

"The shield's down?" He sounded like he could hardly bear to hope for it.

She smiled as they manoeuvred round to they got a clear view of the moon. Amidst all the greenery, there was a ring of fire and smoke on the ground. "The shield's down." Raising her voice, she shouted. "Green Squadron, form up!"

"Here we go."

The Death Star loomed larger and larger as they sped towards it, Green Squadron's array of X-wings and A-wings and Y-wings making for a hodgepodge attack force. For a moment as they neared where the shield had been, Inej tensed up - please be down please be down - but her worry was in vain. They sailed through the space where it had been without so much as a bump.

There was a split second of relief before Dunyasha realised the danger her master's battle station was in and opened fire again. Inej gritted her teeth as the ship rocked underneath her, but she had to keep going. The rest of Green Squadron had already soared into the innards of the Death Star, bright explosions barely visible through its mass of struts and plating, and Inej had to follow. She glanced sideways at Dirix.

He answered her question before she voiced it. "Shield integrity at fifty percent."

She nodded, teeth grinding together further.

There was another smattering of fire from behind, and another of their gunners - Specht, Inej believed his name was - swore. "My cannon's disabled!"

"Keep it that way," Inej ordered without thinking about it. "Don't try to repair it."

"But-"

"Our shields can't take much more of this," Dirix warned her. "We need to fire back."

"No," she insisted. "We can do this."

But the fault in her words became clear when Dunyasha fired again. Inej swerved to avoid it, and indeed, most of the shots flew past them to collide with the Death Star's armoured hull, but enough found their mark that the cockpit shuddered again under the force of it.

"Shields at thirty five percent."

Inej just kept flying, and Dunyasha kept firing. She dodged it again - that is, tried to dodge it again. There was another swear word from their last gunner over the comms.

"Thirty percent." Dirix glanced at her. "Inej, we can't hold up under this much longer. We just lost our last gunner."

The Death Star was getting closer. Another thirty seconds and they'd be inside it.

"Yes, Wraith." Dunyasha's voice hailed them on the comms again. "Give it up. You have no gunners, no hopes of destroying this battle station, and no hopes of stopping me. If you surrender right now, my master might grant you clemency. I'm sure he'd have use for your skills."

"Oh, just shut up."

They flew into the Death Star.

Within a moment, Inej had to yank them left, right, up, then down again. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason as to which struts had been laid out where; there were areas with thick lattices then areas with nothing in them at all, but there always seemed to be some large grate she had to duck through, some hair-raising gap she had to scrape past.

Dunyasha followed them with almost embarrassing ease, her smaller and agile TIE fighter taking to the small spaces much more easily than the Barrel.

She has agility and the Force, Inej thought, but I have speed.

And skill.

She kept going.

Dirix swore as she flew round a particularly sharp bend. "Are you insane?"

She ignored the question. "We need to get to the main reactor. If we blow that thing, the whole station explodes."

"With us inside it?"

Inej didn't answer that.

Instead, she jabbed the comms. "Green Squadron, report in. Have you destabilised the reactor yet?" She didn't expect they had - they would've heard the explosion, if it were true, despite how far away from the centre they were - but if it gave them a chance to evacuate instead of carrying out her plan. . .

"Negative, General," came the reply. "We're coming in for another round now."

"Then halt your assault." At the outraged cries, she snapped, "Get out of this structure. Join the battle outside. If you don't hear from me in one standard hour, then repeat the attack and come round for a second run, but until them, get out of this battle station. Is that clear?"

There was a pregnant pause.

Then- "Copy that, Green Leader."

Dirix just looked tired of her madness by now. "What are you doing?"

"Saving lives." She swerved round a particularly large strut; it took the fire Dunyasha had sent at her, groaning under the heat and pressure. "And ending quite a few."

"Call it off, Wraith." Dunyasha sounded just as exhausted as Dirix, but her exhaustion just angered her further. "You can't win this. You have no gunners. Give it up."

Inej checked the targeting computer. They were coming up on the reactor shaft now.

She soared right into it.

It was less of a shaft, and more of a matrix. Several channels from elsewhere in the station led here - Inej hoped Green Squadron had escaped down some of those. But right there, suspended in empty space, were the reactor shafts. Bright, fiery, brilliant: they certainly looked like they could pack a punch big enough to destroy the station if they were to destabilise.

Kaz's voice sounded over the comms. "Tell me when to fire."

"Not now," Inej said, ignoring Dirix's scandalised look. "And target Dunyasha, not the reactors."

". . .what."

It was Specht who said it, not Kaz; Kaz didn't question it. Inej wondered if he understood what she was trying to do, or if he just trusted her.

"What are you going to do, Wraith?" Dunyasha taunted her again. "Fly right into the reactor yourself?"

"No," Inej said. "You are."

Dunyasha just laughed. Good. Good that she didn't suspect anything.

Inej altered their course slightly.

"We're going to fly right past the reactor," Dirix observed.

"Yes we are." She switched on the comms and hailed Dunyasha. "Do you know the secret to fighting the acklay, Emperor's Hand?"

Dunyasha laughed again. Good. Good, good, good. She was so arrogant - everyone in the Empire was so arrogant - and it would be her downfall. "Don't play with me, Wraith."

"The secret," Inej finished, grunting as she yanked the Barrel to a standstill, "is to pay attention to all of its legs."

She watched Dunyasha's ship on the display as it flew closer and closer to them. Closer, closer, until she was in line with the main reactor, then-

"Kaz, now!"

Kaz didn't hesitate. He opened fire on the TIE fighter.

One of its wings was torn off under the assault, sending it careening back, spinning wildly, back, back, back-

Until it collided with the reactor.

"Fly," Inej told Dirix, and they shot out of there.

Not a moment too soon: the reactor swallowed Dunyasha whole, and the energy from Kaz's shot as well as the energy contained in her weapons array dissipated into the it.

The reactor destabilised.

All Inej was aware of at first was the ship underneath her, every last ounce of speed she could squeeze out of it. She didn't bother with any fancy flying on the way out: Kaz just fired, again and again, at the struts in their way, and they soared through the smoking wreckage.

But then she was aware of the dull roar that trembled through the structure, through the debris surrounding them, and then there was light. So much light, and she couldn't see anything; she just had to tell Kaz to keep firing blindly lest they collide with anything as they flew.

Then there was heat.

"Shields are gone," Dirix said, but she didn't care about that. She already knew from the way the Barrel was acting up beneath her that something was wrong, some circuits had been fried, but so long as they kept flying in a straight line she didn't care. She could fix it, or buy Kaz a new ship - but she could only do that if they both made it out alive.

They cleared the Death Star with only a few seconds to spare. During those few seconds there was nothing but silence, and blackness, and a awful, awful suspense, then-

The Death Star exploded behind them.

She turned the ship so they could watch it blow, like a firework on Empire Day. Except this wasn't an Imperial victory, this was a Rebel victory - a Republic victory - and for the first time something like true hope blossomed in her chest.

The Emperor had been aboard the Death Star.

They'd cut off the head of the snake.

She became dimly aware of cheers over the comms, of Green Squadron's wide array of fighters soaring into view beyond the viewport to escort them back to Home One. She only shook herself out of her disbelieving stupid when someone said in her ear, "Inej, you did it."

There was a hand on her shoulder. She grasped the hand for a moment, using it as an anchor, then she stood up to face its owner.

Kaz stared down at her. "You did it."

She shook her head. "We did it."

He sighed. "We did it, then," he said, but that was all he managed to get out before she kissed him.

He sucked in a surprise breath, but kissed her back, even as her squadron whooped and cheered, and the fiery debris of the Death Star rained down on the moon below.


Koroleva - Alina Starkiller? - was heavy. Nina took a deep breath, muscles in her back still spasming from the Force Lightning, and studied the (ex-)Sith Lord's limp form. Starkiller had just. . . fainted. . . after killing the Emperor, and Nina genuinely didn't know what to do.

She couldn't just. . . leave her there. Could she?

No. She couldn't. It wasn't the Jedi way, and it wasn't Nina's way either.

But that left her with a different problem.

She pulled at Starkiller's arms again, but to no avail. Then she eyed the helmet the woman had thrown away earlier, the silver armour she wore, then Starkiller's uncovered face, slack in unconsciousness.

Nina smacked it.

There was no reaction other than a faint stirring, Starkiller's breathing speeding up slightly.

Nina smacked her again.

This time, Starkiller's eyes flew open, the pupils dilating inside the brown irises and focusing on Nina's face. "What. . ."

"How do you take off your armour?" Nina asked without preamble. A moment passed, then she asked anxiously, "And you are wearing stuff underneath it, right?"

Starkiller blinked slowly. "Yes," she said, just as slowly, her voice thin and reedy. "But. . . why are you-"

"Maybe," Nina grunted, finally finding a catch on the underside of her gauntlet and tugging it open, "despite everything you've done, I don't want you to die."

"Why?" There was something brittle in the way she said it, like Nina was denying her of something she wanted and she wasn't happy about it. "I'm. . . dying. Why would. . . you want to. . . try to. . . stop it?"

"Well," Nina said, throwing one gauntlet and moving on to the other, "you have to apologise to General Lantsov, for one thing."

Starkiller winced at that. "He's. . . going to be. . . insufferable."

Nina had to laugh at that. "Well, judging by the damage that lightning did to your systems, you won't have to suffer it for very long." She flung aside the second gauntlet. "Can you stand?"

A wry smile twisted Starkiller's face. "I have to. . . don't I?" She braced herself against the stairs, then pushed herself off. Nina imagined she could hear the damaged muscles and bones creaking in protest as she teetered there for a moment, but she remained upright.

Nina offered her shoulder as a brace anyway, and Starkiller gratefully sank into it as they began the trek out of the throne room.

"How come you got so damaged by the Force Lightning, anyway?" Nina asked as the elevator doors slid shut behind them. "It hurts, but I can still stand."

Starkiller laughed, but it came out as more of a wheeze. "He wasn't. . . trying. . . to kill you. . . yet," she got out. "Was trying. . . to kill. . . me."

"How lovely," Nina remarked, as the elevator doors slid open to reveal the hangar the lambda shuttle they'd taken earlier had landed in.

She and Starkiller staggered up the landing ramp, the panicking Imperial officers in the hangar barely giving them a second glance. The alarm was blaring - apparently the main reactor had been destabilised - and everyone was doing their utmost to get away before the whole station blew.

So the only resistance was the mad rush of people trying to leave the hangar bay as Nina settled into the cockpit, Starkiller dumped into the seat behind her, and lifted off.

Inej was right, she mused, a conversation from so long ago, before all of this started, coming to mind. These things are difficult to fly without a co-pilot.

They soared out of the Death Star and beyond it. On the display, Nina saw a Rebels pilot lock onto them and prepare to fire, but she jabbed the comms.

"Rebel fighter, abort your run, repeat, abort." She took a breath, glancing at the display, where the little red blip kept getting closer. "Friendly aboard, repeat, friendly."

The reply came swiftly. "Friendly, Green Four, identify yourself."

She breathed a sigh of relief. She knew Green Four. "Rotty, this is Lieutenant Nina Zenik."

"Nina?" came the surprised reply. "Thought you were supposed to be on the moon."

"Yeah, well, there was a change of plan." Nina threw a glance at the ex-Sith Lord sitting behind her, then back at the display. "And I need to make a run for the moon right now. Think you can cover me?"

"'Course, Lieutenant," Rotty said, no doubt seeing what she did: the contingency of TIE fighters shooting to intercept them. "I'll even contact Green Leader to tell her you're alive and well whilst I'm at it."

Nina grinned at that. Inej was alive, and soon she'd be able to stop worrying that Nina was alive as well. "Thanks a million, Rotty. Heading for the Sanctuary Moon now."

The comms clicked off, and Nina enjoyed a blasterfire-free environment to fly through for the next few minutes.

". . .Nina?"

She glanced back at Starkiller, and did a double take at how bad she looked. Her skin was dead white; dark bruises ringed her eyes; her jaw and hands trembled. "What?"

"I. . . I'm not going to survive. . . until the moon," Starkiller said, that wry smile still on her lips. "Could you. . . contact. . . Nikolai?"

Nina nodded. "Of course." She clicked on the comms, and pulled up the holographic function while she was at it. Lantsov deserved to see his friend's face before she died. "Home One?"

"We read you, unidentified shuttle," Lantsov replied, a blue hologram about as tall as Nina's forearm was long being projected above the console and squinting at her image. "Who is this?"

"Lieutenant Nina Zenik," she said. "And-

"Alina Starkiller."

The woman dragged herself forward as she said it to sit in the co-pilot's seat. Lantsov's hologram turned to look at her.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. The eloquent senator had run out of words to say.

"Alina," he said finally, his voice heavy with dread as he took in her haggard appearance, the rings around her eyes. "You-"

"I know," Starkiller said, "that no apology. . . can ever. . . make up for. . . it. But. . . I'm sorry."

Lantsov still didn't say anything - for a moment, at least. Then- "Tamar?"

Starkiller shook her head, a tear escaping her eye and leaking down her face. "Dead."

"I see."

Silence fell again. Nina tried not to pay attention to it. They were coming up on the moon's atmosphere now; she needed to remain vigilant.

Starkiller tried to force an awkward smile. "What?" she asked weakly. "No jokes from. . . the famous. . . Nikolai Lantsov?" She coughed. "When. . . did all your laughter. . . leave you?"

Lantsov's face was grim. "The same time your goodness left you."

Starkiller just nodded, and silence fell again.

Nina was sick of it.

And so, apparently, was Lantsov.

"Why did you contact me, Alina?" he asked. "What did you hope to achieve by this? What," he choked on his words, "do you want me to do?"

"I'm. . . going to die, Nikolai," Starkiller said, her words coming slower and quieter. Nina had to strain to hear her. "And. . . I wanted. . . to talk. . . to you. . . before. . . I did. After all," she added, her wry smile gracing her lips one last time, her tapping hands going still in her lap. "You're the. . . epitome. . . of. . . trustworthiness." She leaned her head to the side, too weak to support it. Her breathing was erratic; Nina could feel her life fading through the Force. She wouldn't last another minute.

"And you're a Sith Lord," Lantsov finished, his stern voice suddenly softer, his face suddenly mournful.

"Not anymore," Alina said, and she said nothing else.

It was a moment before Nina had the guts to glance over at her body. Her pale face was turned towards the viewport, like she was staring at the stars, even now.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Lantsov, then the connection clicked off before Nina could do anything.

She held the feeling of Starkiller's death at bay as she landed the shuttle on one of Endor's landing pads, and sat there for a moment, staring at the greenery.

Starkiller was dead.

Idly, she stretched out with the Force. She didn't know what she was looking for - something, anything - but other than the fleeting sense of Zoya and Alina's presences that she was half-sure she was imagining, she felt nothing.

Nothing, that is, except the life forces of her friends amongst the trees before her. Nothing except Inej and Kaz in the shuttles that descended to the ground from above her.

Nina smiled.

Tamar was dead. Morozova was dead. Koroleva was dead. Starkiller was dead.

But her friends were alive.

And for now, that was all Nina could possibly want from the world.