Chapter 41
What's Done Is Done

The X-wing's canopy lowered and sealed, shutting out the roar of the New Hope's main hangar bay. Anakin checked his instruments and saluted the launch chief. At the chief's thumbs up, he flipped a switch and his repulsors whined. The familiar slight increase in gravity that accompanied liftoff pushed him deeper into the fighter's worn seat. Obediently following the chief's signals, he maneuvered delicately down the central launchway toward the bay doors. He frowned at the chime of his comm.

"Saber Leader, we're patching an urgent communication from a Commander Cody through to you."

Anakin's heart sank. No matter what the reason Cody was contacting him, it couldn't be good. "Understood. Go ahead."

Through a staticky, audio-only connection, Cody's distorted voice said, "General, is this you?"

"Yes, Cody. Report."

"The Death Star is operational, sir."

The fighter shook slightly as it passed through the magnetic containment field. Anakin didn't notice. "How do you know?"

"We saw it fire on Geonosis. After we loaded the Wookiees, Solo left the system as ordered. I persuaded him to return and not two minutes after we dropped out of hyperspace, the station fired."

Anakin glanced reflexively out his canopy at the portion of the planet's southern hemisphere that was definitely visible around the bulk of the carrier. "But the planet's still here."

"I don't know why. We all saw it. There's a gap in the planetary ring and a giant dust plume visible from orbit. But, sir—that's not the important part. Right after firing, the station and the Star Destroyers jumped into hyperspace."

"What!"

"We tracked the vector." Even through the static, the stress in Cody's voice was audible. "I think they were headed for Tatooine."

"Send me that vector," Anakin snapped, already banking his fighter toward the hyperspace lane.

"On its way, General."

"Artoo, confirm Cody's calculations and send them to the squadrons."

The droid twittered, and his answer scrolled across the cockpit screen.

Anakin toggled to the task force's general frequency. "All squadrons, all fighters, this is Saber Leader. The Death Star has left the system and appears to be fully operational. Repeat: the Death Star is operational. Jump in formation to these coordinates. The station is targeting the planet. On my mark."

Anakin pulled back the hyperdrive lever and was surrounded by the jagged blue light of orthogonal space. The jump to Tatooine was both too short to settle his nerves and too long to avoid anxious thoughts. Compulsively, he checked his extra oxygen supplies, clipped in a row on the left side of the cockpit. He wondered for a moment how Luke and Leia were doing, back at the Rebel base. He wished he had managed to say goodbye, just in case. A wisp of anxiety niggled at him, but he banished it. He would need all his concentration for the battle to come.

The Rebel fighters dropped out of hyperspace just shy of Tatooine's gravity well. Directly before them, silhouetted against the bright planet, the Death Star and its escort of three Star Destroyers loomed. Since it would take mere minutes for the Star Destroyers to launch their fighters, Anakin lost no time ordering his squadrons to race for the station, which was slowly rotating into position.

A broadband emergency override signal brought his comm hissing to life. He glanced at his screen. That was not a Rebellion frequency. At least not one they were using on this strike. His lips tightened and he eked a bit more speed from his engines as Tarkin's oily tones filled the cockpit.

"…the outlaw and former Jedi Anakin Skywalker who is charged with treason, inciting rebellion, damage to Imperial property, and the murder of Imperial personnel. President Banai, I call on you to turn him over to Governor Semchan, and the Empire will honor your system's sovereignty. Refuse and this battle station will destroy your planet."

Anakin hit his own emergency override on the encrypted Alliance frequency. "All squadrons, all fighters, this is Saber Leader. It sounds like Governor Tarkin is here for me. I hate to miss the party, but I'll have to divert his attention. Blue and Grey Squadrons, attack the superlaser emplacements on the circumference of the dish. It's unlikely you'll do anything more than scratch the paint of this monstrosity, but if the Force is with us, maybe Tarkin will mistake your diversion for the true attack. Red and Gold Squadrons, take the trench run."

He switched to his flight's private frequency. "Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, join Red and Gold Squadrons. It will require a Jedi, I think."

"Negative, Anakin," Obi-Wan said. "If you're planning to draw Tarkin's attention, you'll be overrun. You need backup."

"The two of you won't be enough backup if he really comes for me. But you can make a difference in that trench."

"Sorry, SkyGuy, I'm with Ben on this one. We're staying."

"In case you've forgotten, Snips, I'm in command of this mission. Those are orders."

"It's only a brevet rank. And Ben outranks you anyway. You're wasting time, Commander. Better call Moff Ge'hutuun."

Reluctantly, Anakin conceded. There wasn't time to argue her into compliance. "Artoo, hail the Death Star on their override frequency. No encryption. I want anyone who's listening to know what we're saying. And transmit my Jedi code when you open the comm. That should get Tarkin's attention."

Anakin led his flight in a long loop away from the Death Star. Silence lingered for several seconds before Artoo signaled that he had an open line. "Good afternoon, Wilhuff," Anakin said genially, taking a leaf from Ahsoka's book. Her opponents had always found her irreverence galling. Maybe he could do the same to Tarkin. "As usual you're behind the times and flying down the wrong hyperspace lane. I'm not on planet right now and haven't been for about a week. I had a few errands to run. That's quite the list of charges you reeled off. Did Sheev draw up the warrant personally, or did he leave that to you?" He ignored the swoop in his gut at the rebellious use of his master's name—an act he had never dared, even as a Jedi.

Despite the static-ridden comm channel, Tarkin's voice sliced like a vibroblade. "That's your master to you. Show proper respect."

Anakin's lips curled upward. It seemed Ahsoka was on to something. "My, my, Wilhuff—Sheev has been keeping you out of the loop. Tatooine freed its slaves. I'm a citizen and I claim my freedom with all the rest."

Tarkin's reply was so delayed, Anakin could almost visualize his apoplectic expression. "Since you've finally crawled out of your dank hole, Vader, I will make you an offer. Surrender to me, and I may allow you to beg on behalf of this worthless ball of dust."

"I certainly will not surrender to you. If you want me, you'll have to come get me. But we both know you don't have what it takes to capture me." Anakin leaned a little closer to his cockpit's voice pickup. "I have a counterproposal: leave the system, swearing on your nonexistent honor the Empire will withdraw all its troops, and I won't hurt your pet battle station. You can run back to Palpatine and tell him if he wants me, he can come fetch me himself. I won't be hard to find."

The static crackled as Tarkin snapped, "I warn you, Vader. The Emperor will have no mercy if you resist arrest."

"Sheev doesn't have a merciful bone in his body and neither do you. I'd have to be a fool to surrender myself to you. And the name's Skywalker. Oh, by the way, did I mention that Ahsoka Tano is my wingmate today? She has a score to settle with you, too. Skywalker out." Anakin glanced at his IFF screen. The X-wings were approaching the Death Star. The Star Destroyers were launching their TIE wings, and the distance between the vanguard and his flight was closing fast. Time to lead them on a chase.

"Saber Flight, follow my lead. Let's give those TIEs something to do."

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan acknowledged the order with clicks of their comms, and the three X-wings accelerated away from the Death Star. The TIEs were faster, of course, unencumbered by shields or torpedoes, but every klick away from the station gave the Rebel squadrons one more chance to make the shot. The first TIEs soon caught up to Saber Flight and began firing. Anakin grinned ferociously when Artoo reported they had powered their cannons down to seventy-five percent. So Palpatine truly did want him captured alive. He couldn't allow that, but it meant he could probably string this out a little longer. His oxygen intake kicked up, but the system was not signaling it needed a refill yet, so he ignored it.

He looped around, collecting three TIEs on his tail, then stalled and spun, spraying fire across their paths. They were so close to each other, there was only one fireball. Clearly Tarkin had not bothered to warn his pilots who they were facing. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan were flying in tandem above him, but most of the TIEs were ignoring them in favor of chasing him. He changed vectors and flew directly toward his wingmates, who took out a half dozen TIEs each before Anakin took his place in middle of Saber Flight.

But the TIEs appeared to resemble the legendary ancient hydra; for every one destroyed, two or three took its place. He stole a glimpse of his screen. The green blips of the X-wings were strung out in a line at the Death Star's pole and clustered around the perimeter of the superlaser dish. So far they were not being harried by TIEs, although he imagined they were under heavy fire from the surface cannons.

Casually, Anakin looped and rolled, exulting in the responsiveness of the agile craft. The environment was so target rich, as Rex would have put it, that he didn't have to aim. With every revolution, he knocked out opponents. Repeatedly, TIE flights and even entire squadrons attempted to catch him in a net or a pincer. Time after time, he eluded their traps, slipping through gaps or executing impossibly tight loops and rolls. He blinked his eyes heavily. That last maneuver had left his vision a bit blurry. It must be because he hadn't flown in a year. His body was unaccustomed to the demands of combat. He drew a deeper breath and his vision cleared. His life support was running at full capacity.

Distraction in battle always had consequences. Several hits had landed and the shields were down to ninety-three percent. He returned his attention to the battle to find he was cut off from Ahsoka and Obi-Wan, encircled by TIEs. Artoo was rapidly cycling power for maximum efficiency. Anakin dove for a slight gap, the g-forces pushing him into his seat. He twisted the ship as he floated through, evading most of the barrage around him. The TIEs were so thick, they were at severe risk of shooting each other or even merely colliding.

A second wave of vertigo washed over him, but his hands moved by instinct to maneuver through the tiny gap. He pressed the accelerator as he came out of the dive, in preparation for weaving through the melee, where he could knock out TIEs as he went. Instead, the vertigo increased, accompanied by strong nausea. Without conscious choice, he eased up on the accelerator, doing his best to juke and jink to evade the fire.

Slowly, his vision cleared. What was this? He had never experienced such disorientation in combat before. His fighter's shields were almost down to eighty percent and taking more hits as he wavered.

Ahsoka came to his rescue like a vengeful gundark.

"Thanks, Snips."

"Any time, SkyGuy."

She slotted onto his port wing, followed a moment later by Obi-Wan on his starboard side. Artoo shunted a little power from the lasers to the shields, and they crept back up to eighty-five percent. Whatever was happening to his vision, he had to overcome it or he wouldn't survive this battle. Or worse, he would be captured, which would put him at a severe disadvantage in his confrontation with Palpatine. Either outcome was unacceptable. He reached out to the Force, and the nausea cleared. His vision still felt a little off, but he could compensate.

The Death Star continued to loom in the distance, the tiny string of green lights racing through the trench now pursued by a swarm of red blips. An even greater concentration of fighters attacked Blue and Grey Squadrons at the deflector dish. Good. Tarkin had taken the bait.

Anakin returned his full attention to his own battle for survival. "Saber Flight, on my mark, execute a Muunilinst Claw. Mark."

Obi-Wan accelerated upward, Ahsoka dove down, and Anakin broke to port, spraying the fighters in front of him as he went. He had lost count of his kills several minutes ago. Moments later, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan swung past him, creating a pincer to catch the TIEs that had stubbornly stayed on his tail. His wingmates dropped back into their positions on either side of his fighter.

His IFF screen was still a solid mass of red, with three tiny green blips in the center of it. "We need to take out a few more of these TIEs. I'm going to execute an upward Skywalker Corkscrew. You two break port-starboard down.

"Artoo, shunt seventy percent of the power to the forward shields until we get to the top of the loop; then push it to the rear shields. When we level off, even them out." The droid's assent scrolled across his screen and he called, "Mark."

He threw the X-wing into a twisting climb through the mass of fighters above him, laser cannons firing all the way. As the g's pushed him deeper into the seat, spots danced on the edge of his vision. Grimly, he pushed them away with the Force. His breath came in short gasps, and as he tipped over the top, his vision went black for a moment. Reaching out with the Force, he guided the fighter into the back side of the loop, diving beyond his previous position, vision flickering in and out all the way. Sensing he had reached the same plane as his wingmates, he twitched the stick to level off. He had begun to pant and groped for a spare oxygen canister.

The fighter jolted.

He lost his grip on the Force and everything went dark.