Tales from the Rebellion

by Will X

Continuation of the Star Wars special. Candace, Isabella, and Phineas join the Rebel Alliance and become entangled in the war, while Ferb is forced into his own journey by Darthenshmirtz's manipulations. Behind it are petty intrigues, war politics, people being people, and a truly dark plot unfolding deep in the shadows. Rated T for coarse language and violence.

20. Chapter 20

I have a small confession; this chapter could've been out much sooner. It was ready to go back in September of 2018 (it was a long time before I cared enough to update this story again), and really didn't need so much time to do the editing necessary to make this chapter readable (the early chapters of the story are examples of bad writing through simplicity, but this chapter was an example of bad writing through trying bad writing trying too hard to be good writing, ew). I could've had this out in mid-January, like the last chapter, but now it's out in early April. Ah well. The pandemic made it so I didn't have an excuse to avoid this.

Thanks to "Queen of Kitty Cats" and "Thecactus1" for your reviews, glad some people are enjoying this. I don't consider this a serious project anymore, just continuing it to practice writing. The next few prose chapters (there may be an interlude made up of in-universe documents for Ch. 21, we'll see) will be written much better, with much more thought put in to them.

Speaking of putting thought into this; I should confess that for the longest time I had no real plans for this story beyond just getting to the next chapter, with a broad outline sketched out in my head for the big chapter "arcs" that have occurred up to this point (Battle of Naboo, and this long mess in the "Armengoltiax cluster"), so a lot of stuff is poorly explained, random, and/or doesn't make sense. If a detail from an earlier chapter is contradicted by something in any chapters following this one, consider whatever's in the later chapter to be more accurate or "canonical".

There's a lot of random stuff that makes no sense. A good example would be Doctor Tanmi; I only figured out what his secret goals were in July of 2018, when I was over halfway through this chapter, so all of his manipulations before now were just me stalling for time as I tried to figure out what I wanted to do with him (god, this story has problems). Another example is that ISB agent Adra who Krennic went on a date with(what); no clue why I wrote her in. I don't think she'll show up again.

I'm going to try to put more thought and effort into planning out my chapters and trying to make some characters grow/behave naturally. I also want to try to write better dialogue. Most of the story consists of action scenes, with the dialogue either being bland exposition or awkwardly written interactions between characters. I'm going to try to improve in that regard moving forward.

---

Krennic had made a mistake. Accepting Adra's invitation had been fun, sure, but he was now bordering on being late for his meeting at the Imperial Palace. Krennic could imagine Tarkin's spirit grinning at his situation.

Well, perhaps not grinning. Tarkin had preferred a small smile that would exist for less time than the least stable elements- synthetic atoms which existed for a less than a second in laboratories.

Krennic raced back to his estate by speeder-probably, he noted, violating several traffic regulations in the process. Upon arriving, he had found his shuttle returned from the repair job and sitting on its usual landing pad. After a thumbprint and retinal scan to confirm his identity, he ran inside, and changed out of his evening clothes and into his uniform. As he downed a quick nutrition shake, Pterro quickly read aloud an email from Heinz updating him on the losses he was sustaining trying to recapture that Jedi kid, Fred. Krennic grimaced. Allocating further manpower to reinforce the suffering Kamino garrison would take time, but it was possible.

His shuttle was much more dignified than the speeder he had taken to ISB and then Adra's apartment building. It gave him instant precedence over any other traffic, making the flight to the Federal District quicker than it would've been for the average Coruscanti. He landed outside the Imperial Palace, and was greeted by a procession of Royal Guards and Stormtroopers.

Walking down his shuttle's ramp, he grimaced for the second time in half-as-many hours. Leading the group of Guardsmen and troopers was Moff Tandent.

Tandent represented everything that Krennic hated about Coruscant politics. Sneaky, coddled, bastard politicians and administrators who held an inflated view of their own power and place in the galaxy. Even Tarkin, for all his faults, was better than they were. The late Governor had no qualms about fighting in the trenches when necessary and knew where he stood compared to the Emperor.

Tandent was possibly the worst of them all. The Moff was little better than a corporate regional manager, as his sole job on the Ruling Council was administering the day-to-day runnings of the Imperial Palace and the surrounding Federal District. He had been a glorified busboy for the senators when the Imperial Senate was still in operation.

"Moff Tandent." Krennic said.

"Director Krennic." The Moff replied. "Follow me." The Red Guards parted in front of the Moff.

---

Slave 1 landed in one of the Executor's many hangar bays. As the ship's flight deck re-oriented itself to fit with the ship's current position, Boba Fett unloaded his prisoners. He took Skywalker and the buckethead grabbed the yammering protocol droid.

The handoff with Vader was quick, businesslike and efficient. Just the way Fett liked it.

Stormtroopers took the protocol droid and the kid. A pair of crewmen carried his payment into the ship and secured it. His passenger, the stormtrooper, was sent to be processed and reassigned to a new duty on the Executor. A new assignment was given by Vader.

And then Boba Fett was gone, disappeared into the stars.

---

An Imperial shuttle detached itself from a docking ring on the hull of the Freedom. The rebel fleet and the Imperial warships distracted each other from noticing it, and it sped up and over the storm remnants.

The transponder code identified it as an ISB shuttle dispatched to the Executor to investigate Captain Piett's personal finances.

Its true mission was much less boring. And nowhere near as easy.

The plan was to get in, find Luke, and get out before anyone noticed. Naturally that was easier said than done.

Isabella was dressed in the white uniform of an ISB officer. Han was too. Leia, four human commandos, and Cassian (the spy had decided to tag along) were dressed in stormtrooper armor. Phineas wore the black outfit of an Imperial shuttle pilot and R2 had been done up in an Imperial color scheme. Provided the ongoing battle kept the Imperials distracted, the mere presence of ISB officers should be enough to let them through. Or so Leia claimed.

Isabella had to admit, the Princess had finally outdone herself in the 'crazy plan' department.

Stealing a Gozanti-class cruiser to capture an entire space station? Using four Y-Wings, the same cruiser, and a few vulture droids to attack a star destroyer? Sending the same Gozanti out into an electrical storm to spy on the Imperial fleet?

All paled in comparison to flying directly to Darth Vader's flagship to rescue Luke.

"I'm scanning for S8-8117." Phineas announced. "But nothing yet."

"Keep looking." Leia ordered.

Ah, yes. The other mission; possibly find Candace and her ship. Isabella wondered if there was even hope that Sergeant-no, Lieutenant Flynn and her unit were still alive. Not that she'd be the first to celebrate if Candace were to go MIA, but…

"We're above the storm." Han said. The outline of the Executor was visible, surrounded by dozens of star destroyers and smaller warships. The dwindling purple-pink electrical clouds sparked below them, tiny explosions indicating TIE fighters that had flown too close. He brought their shuttle in lower, angled down toward the Imperial fleet. A short micro-jump made it look like they had just come out of hyperspace.

After arguing on the com with an officer who sounded like she'd rather be posted on a tropical vacation planet somewhere, Han managed to secure them a hangar. The shuttle shook as it landed.

They walked down the boarding ramp; Han and Isabella first, the fake stormtroopers next, and then finally Phineas and Artoo. Two officers led a squad of Navy Troopers to greet them. With surprise, Isabella realized one of them was a Mustafarian.

"Welcome to the Executor." The senior officer said. Isabella recognized her as the same one Han had yelled at over the com. "I am Major Ziff."

Han nodded. "I am Commander, uh, Muftak. This-" he motioned at Isabella. "-is Inspector Kabe."

Muftak (often called 'The Muftak') and Kabe were a pair of alien pickpockets operating in the Mos Eisley cantina. The former was a Talz who despised the desert world he lived on and the latter was a diminutive Chadra-Fan whose voice was unnaturally high, even for her species. Isabella filed the incident away to bring up at a later date, preferably when they were on the other side of the galaxy from the Executor.

Major Ziff looked them over and saluted.

The Mustafarian leaned in. "Major, I find something suspicious in the officer's claims. Your species has several detectable giveaways to see if you are lying, and-"

Isabella interrupted the alien quickly. "Do you always let your subordinates voice open dissent, Major?"

It worked. Ziff suddenly looked afraid. "Lieutenant M'Nibfro! That is a demerit. Please return to the docking command center. I will deal with you later." The Mustafarian's snout twitched. Isabella's dealings with his species had taught her that this meant he was embarrassed, and would seek retribution. M'Nibfro gave a quick salute and turned away from them. "I apologize for him." Ziff looked nervous.

"We will, uh, report that in our…erm…report!" Han said.

"Yes!" Isabella said, a bit too loudly. The collar of the stolen uniform suddenly felt a size too small. "Our report will mention his insubordination!" Ziff nodded, though she looked about as calm as Isabella felt-meaning the Major looked like she was sure she was about to get shot. "Thank you, Major." Isabella said. "We will be going now."

"Do you require an escort?" Ziff wrung her hands nervously, eager to present herself as the helpful, rulebook-worshipping Imperial officer she certainly wanted them to think she was.

"Nonsense, Major." Han gave a theatrical wave of his hand. "We studied the schematics of the Executor during our trip here."

"ISB has access to that?"

"ISB has access to your personal log, Major!" Isabella shouted. "We have access to everything save the Emperor's private archives!"

Ziff became very quiet, and Han and Isabella took this as an opportunity to lead the team past them and out of the hangar. The corridor the walked through was empty with the exception of a Navy Trooper standing guard outside a closet marked 'Munitions' in both High Galactic and Aurebesh. They piled into the elevator.

"Where are we headed?" Isabella asked once the doors had closed. Her heartbeat began to slow back down.

"Computer rooms are usually located three levels above the hangar bays on larger Kuat warships, I think. We'll start there" Han exhaled. "I can't believe this nerfshit plan is working."

"Was that dissent, Commander Muftak?" one of the fake stormtroopers said. Despite the vocoder in the helmet that made all bucketheads sound identical, Isabella recognized it as Leia. "I should report that in my report."

"Shut up."

---

"Your arm is almost healed." AZI-3 said.

"Good." Ferb breathed in and out to clear his head.

The two were hiding in a storage room adjacent to the hangar where Kan Be's freighter was supposed to be held. Ferb was remotely slicing into the lockdown codes that kept the ship from taking off.

"I would like to remind you that putting too much stress on your arm within two hours of this improvised surgery will-"

Ferb waved his healthy hand in the droid's face. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

While stealthily dispatching a stormtrooper patrol that had happened upon him by chance, Ferb had been reunited with AZI-3. The old medical droid had been floating around near the hangar. Despite the lockdown, no Imperials had accosted the droid.

After dealing with a security droid that had happened upon them, Ferb had discovered the old supply room in schematics he retrieved by slicing into the city's central computer. A storage cube full of basic medical supplies had been gleefully discovered by the droid, who had then demanded that Ferb receive minor treatment for his injuries.

He got up, wrinkling a bacta patch placed over a cut on his stomach, and slid his shirt back on.

"Besides," he continued. "It's not like we're rushing anywhere. Slicing remotely is delicate work."

The droid accepted this, and busied himself with loading a hovercart-Ferb planned to loot their hiding place for any valuables and have them snuck aboard his ship by a reprogrammed load lifter immediately prior to their escape.

---

"Deck six reports boarders." Orthua, the Freedom's Mon Calamari captain said. Her pale golden skin looked more like a fiery orange underneath the dark light of the star destroyer's bridge. "They're mostly stormtroopers, but a squad of Storm Commandos is present as well. However, Lieutenant Sniben says the fleet troopers and heavy soldiers on hand are enough to hold them back, for now."

"How many boarding points are open?" General Dodonna asked.

"Three." Orthua replied. An Ithorian crewman next to her pulled up the schematics of that section on the holotable. Three bright red dots appeared on the holographic hull. "They're using TIE boarding shuttles to punch through our shields, and our hull. They've fortified themselves and are pushing deeper into our ship."

"It's the Mantellian Gambit." Dodonna said. The others looked at him. "A maneuver I invented with a Jedi Master during the Clone Wars. They're going to clear out our forces before attempting to secure an airlock for a larger transport to bring reinforcements. Lock down the nearest airlocks and send soldiers to defend them. And start sealing off deck six-I don't want any to get through."

As Orthua and Dodonna planned out how to defend their ship from this new threat, Draven turned his attention away from the military strategists and their battle plans-he was a spymaster, not a tactician. He looked over the bridge, at the rebel crewmen and officers at their duty stations. A Twi'Lek gunner in the starboard data pit reported that one of the light cannons on the underside of the hull was overheating, and an astromech droid whistled in an unnecessary response as it moved across the bridge. An Iktotchi lieutenant was directing starfighter operations at a console to Draven's left. A pair of Utai mechanics were repairing a subsystem near where the Princess usually stood when she was on the bridge.

Draven frowned. That reminded him-where was Princess Organa? He had not seen her on the bridge since right after her team had evacuated the station in the stolen Imperial shuttle at the same time as the last of the transports. She had updated him and the other senior officers on Skywalker's capture by Boba Fett. Draven had been aware of the bounty hunter's presence-his ship, Slave I, had flown out of the Armengoltiax Cluster directly ahead of the Freedom, but none suspected the Rebellion's golden boy was being held captive aboard it.

Princess Leia had immediately demanded they expend forces to rescue him. Naturally, Draven and Dodonna had refused. But Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan was never one to follow orders. Shortly after the rebels had liberated Naboo, the recently-captured Freedom had returned to Yavin 4 to assist in the evacuation. She had requested to fly off on a mission to rescue the Alderannians scattered around the galaxy-the Empire was conducting a systematic purge of them following the destruction of their homeworld. Dodonna had refused, citing the Empire's more than generous bounty on her, but she had ignored him and stolen a ship with Alderaanian pilot Evaan Verlaine and the then-Corporal Candace Flynn. The mission had been a success and given the rebellion another propaganda victory-what was better propaganda than helping protect the culture of a destroyed world?-but the Princess had disobeyed a direct order.

And where was Captain Solo? The smuggler usually was flying his old freighter to assist them and would frequently radio back to the bridge with a suggestion or complaint, the latter far more often than the former.

Draven's scowl deepened. Very strange. He turned back to the holotable.

"Where is the-" Before he could finish, a call came in. The battle plan for defending deck six disappeared and was replaced by a hologram of one of the deck officers for the Freedom's main hangar.

"Captain! Generals!" they were nervous. Draven could barely make out that they were human through the static-their gender was another mystery for another time. "The stolen shuttle Princess Organa arrived in is missing!"

"Where's the Princess?" Draven asked. The officer only shrugged. Before they could say anything further, another call came in. A hologram of Colonel Haxen Delto appeared alongside the deck officer.

"General Draven. It appears Captain Andor and two of our commandos have gone missing. Also, that engineer kid who transferred to my division this morning, was working in the reactor room to keep the ship running. He went missing a little while ago and witnesses say the smuggler Han Solo was seen talking to him and another one of our smugglers before they disappeared." The other officers looked at him

"Damn." Draven pinched the bridge of his nose. "The princess went to rescue Skywalker."

---

Luke Skywalker woke up with a splitting headache. The last thing he fully remembered was searching for a generator room in one of the arms of the dismantling facility. The power was off, and he had volunteered to go turn it on. Then, searing pain, darkness, and nothing but flashes of event after that: Two stormtroopers bickering with some skeletal droid. Leia arguing with a bounty hunter. The stark efficiency of an Imperial hangar as Darth Vader watched him.

Vader! He was on Vader's ship! He tried to get up, but magnaclamps held him in place. He sat back down and let the Force relax him. Once calm, he took in the room around him. Two Imperial Death troopers guarded the door. Neither looked directly at him.

An Imperial torture droid plopped down from an opening in the ceiling. A needle extended from the spherical machine and inserted into Luke's bicep. Everything went black as the sedative entered his bloodstream.

---

Leia's team had found an empty datacenter and Phineas sliced past the restrictions on the console. Searching through the schematics of the Executor, Cassian had located several decks with high-security brigs that could plausibly house someone like Luke, and R2 had cross-referenced that list with a retrieved database of all recent prisoner transfers. Nothing had turned up, but a recent manifest log revealed that a stormtrooper from the very same facility the rebellion had just raided was being processed into the dreadnaught's crew after being delivered to the ship by Boba Fett in Hangar 15. Security video showed the passage of Luke, unconscious and in some sort of hovering coffin, being taken through the ship to one of the decks on Cassian's list.

"That's where we'll find him." Leia said. "That's where they're keeping Luke."

Suddenly the door, which had been sealed, exploded.

"Hands in the air!" somebody shouted. Leia's team, too stunned to respond effectively, were forced to surrender. "On your knees!"

"Wait," Leia said. "I know that voice."

"That's-" Phineas began.

"Princess?" their new captor said. "What are you doing here?" The smoke cleared to reveal Candace in a tattered Imperial uniform.

"Candace?" Phineas said.

"Lieutenant Flynn?" Leia said.

"Oh, joy. She's alive." Isabella said sourly, quiet enough so that Phineas would not notice.

Candace holstered her rifle. Buford and Baljeet poked their heads out from behind the doorway.

"I thought they were rebels like us!" Buford said. "The hell are they doing on a dreadnaught?"

"Clearly, they are on some sort of mission. We will probably end up helping them liberate or disable or do whatever they came here to-"

"Lousy nerf-herding traitors!" Buford muttered. "I'll make them pay!"

Baljeet sighed. Once Buford was convinced someone had betrayed him, it would be several standard rotations before evidence could convince him otherwise.

"What are you doing here?" Candace asked.

"We could ask the same of you."

And so Candace explained.

Her ship had been towed, on Admiral Sloane's orders, into the Executor's repair bays and the Imperial engineers repaired the ship. The battle droids had at one point wandered onto the bridge, but Candace had explained she was carrying them to the Armengoltiax Dismantling station (a believable lie, considering the stockpile of Clone Wars weaponry on the station) and had locked them in a closet to prevent it from happening again. The engineers' work was remarkably thorough-the heating units in the refreshers, which were neglected during Phineas' upgrades, had all been completely repaired. Despite this, a rebel transmission-ironically, one sent from Leia's shuttle by Phineas-cut through interference from the electrical storm and burst out on the com. The sublieutenant commanding the repair crew had been naturally suspicious, locked down S8-8117, and contacted a security team to apprehend them.

"And so, we ran." Candace finished lamely. "What about you?"

"Luke got captured by a bounty hunter." Han said. "We're here to rescue him."

"Got it!" Phineas said. All eyes and photoreceptors turned to look at him. "I've triggered an alarm near the power relays, and crafted a fake directive downgrading Candace's threat level so the troopers won't focus on her. It's working, too. Squads have been redirected to keep the ship from being disabled."

"So that takes care of the bucketheads." Han said. "So now we can all just waltz into Luke's cell and grab him. Easy."

"Not easy." Leia replied. "There will still be a heavy number of troopers on that deck."

"I can trigger a depressurization alert on that level." Phineas pulled up a hologram of the prison deck. It would lock down everything, and we could 'waltz in' without being shot at. I would have to do it on that level though-atmospheric controls are decentralized and can only be accessed on terminals located in the section whose atmospheric processors you are accessing or on the main bridge. But I can do it."

"Okay, good plan." Han said. "But then what? Do we take him back to our ship, or-?"

"No." Phineas countered. "Imperial shuttles are too slow. We'll take Candace's ship. The modifications I made to that hyperdrive could make it outrun any ship in Vader's fleet."

"The tractor beams are still keeping it locked down." Candace pointed out. Phineas shrugged.

"Send a team to the power relays to shut it down."

Han frowned. "The same power relays that you just sent most of the troopers on this ship to protect, you mean."

"Oh, yeah. Well, I suppose we could deactivate the base relays in the reactor room."

"Do you have any idea how heavily defended the reactor room of a star destroyer is?" Candace asked. "Getting in there will be, well-"

"Easy with a surprise inspection by Commander Muftak or Inspector Kabe." Phineas said. Isabella and Han looked at each other.

"Who?" Candace asked.

Han coughed. "It's…uh, us. Me and Isabella. Those are our aliases." Candace raised an eyebrow, but did not respond.

"Oh, yes." K2-S0 said. He, Chopper and Bodhi had walked in while Candace was explaining what had happened to them. "This is a great plan."

For a droid, he could really put sarcasm into his voice.

---

"Welcome, Director. I trust your stay on Coruscant has been pleasant so far?"

The Emperor seemed to be half a kilometer away as Krennic walked into the throne room. A contingent of royal guards, larger than the group accompanying Tandent and Krennic, were spread throughout the chamber.

Several key members of the Imperial elite were clustered around the base of the throne; Admiral Garrick Versio and High Inspector Tranphic of ISB, Moff Tiaan Jerjerrod, Grand Vizier Mas Amedda, Advisers Yupe Tashu, Kren Blista-Vanee, Ars Dangor, Admiral Gallius Rax of Naval Intelligence, Grand General Kenner Loring of the Imperial Army, Vice Admiral Tallatz of the Naval Chiefs, and an older officer whom Krennic believed was the late Admiral Motti's replacement as Chief of the Imperial Navy. Several technicians sat at computer stations in the corner of the room, watched by an officer-likely a direct subordinate of Moff Tandent's.

Krennic held up a hand and his Death troopers stopped where they were.

"It has been, my Emperor." Krennic knelt before the throne. He could feel the old man probing him. He was not force-sensitive, or whatever the hell the Jedi and Sith called it when you were eligible to join their cults, but he could tell when someone was trying to get a reading on him.

"I suppose my Grand Vizier told you why you were summoned here." The Emperor continued.

"He did, my lord."

The Emperor paused before replying. "Has Lord Darthenshmirtz begun work on the new Death Star yet?" Krennic's voice caught in his throat. The Emperor would likely be aware of the child's escape. Right? What was the answer Palpatine was looking for? Should he say that progress was slow, or tell the truth? "Or does Ferb Fletcher still run amok in Tipoca City?" Palpatine's voice was like thunder now. Krennic swallowed and ignored the weak feeling in his legs.

"Lord Darthenshmirtz informed me, during our last communication twelve hours ago, that he and Lord Diminutive had recaptured the child. However, a more recent message from Darthensmirtz's aide reported that the boy escaped again and both Lord Diminutive's bodyguard and one of the Inquisitors have been killed, as well as many of the forces stationed on Kamino." Krennic mentally flinched in anticipation of the Emperor's reaction. He was surprised when the old man just waved a wrinkled hand.

"Bah. Men, like machines, can be replaced. Is that not correct, General Loring?"

The Chief of the Imperial Army stiffened when he the Emperor addressed him. "Yes, my lord. We can rotate out soldiers to Kamino to replace the ones lost."

"Besides Director," the Emperor continued. "Kamino's defensive forces are enough if we cannot immediately re-deploy, correct?" This directed at Admiral Versio. He nodded.

"ISB's review of the local defense and law enforcement militias on Kamino confirms that they are nearly unparalleled in their loyalty to the Empire as regards similar agencies on other worlds. The Tipoca City Security Militia is particularly skilled, and well equipped to boot." Versio paused. "To put it bluntly, Kamino is quite safe right now."

"And what is the loss of one Inquisitor and a commando but a necessary sacrifice to help a dangerous foe fall to the Dark Side and be forged into a loyal servant of my Empire?"

Krennic waited to see who was supposed to answer. Guessing that the Emperor was testing his subordinates to see who would be brave enough to respond first, he spoke up.

"Inconsequential, Your Excellency."

The Emperor cackled gleefully and clasped his goblin-hands together. He stood up from his throne but did not descend from the raised dais to the same level as his advisers and officers.

"Less than inconsequential. Practically of no consequence at all!" The old man suddenly grew very serious again. "Of course, this is not what I summoned all of you to discuss. Vizier Amedda, a reminder for my guests, please?"

The blue-skinned Chagrian coughed. "Of course, Your Excellency. You wished to discuss the role of Director Krennic in the Death Star II program." Krennic stared ahead impassively.

"Director, last time I left you in charge of building a Death Star, it ended up exploding underneath Grand Moff Tarkin's feet." Krennic was barely able to keep himself from grinning at the thought of Tarkin going up in flames, despite the Emperor's anger.

"Of course, this is not a good thing to have on one's resume when applying to control the construction of another battlestation, bigger than the original." Krennic swallowed nervously. Did his cape always feel like it was this tight around his neck? "So Moff Jerjerrod will be working with you jointly on the construction of the second Death Star. The both of you will supervise the other's work to ensure no mistakes, and upon completion, whoever I deem worthy will assume command." Krennic glanced over at Jerjerrod. The Moff lacked any sort of ambition whatsoever, making it unlikely he sought control of the Death Star II. But then again, he was also disgustingly petty, and might just win the spot of 'Station Commander' just to irritate Orson.

He could see what the Emperor was doing. The old man had always favored competition in the Empire, believing it brought out the best in his officers and subjects. He had enforced the same principle going back to the final days of the Republic, having Amedda test the then-Lieutenant Commander Krennic and then-Admiral Tarkin to see who was best equipped to take command of the battlemoon project-long before the Heinz's ideas and Galen Erso's research had yielded a superlaser. And now he wanted to do the same here.

It was stupid, really.

"As you wish, my Emperor." Krennic said.

"Oh and another thing Director." The Emperor descended from the dais. The royal guards at the bottom parted to let him through. "I believe a promotion is necessary." the Emperor produced a rank insignia plaque from the folds of his cloak.

"Director, your current actual rank, what is it?"

"I am equivalent to an Admiral, Your Excellency."

The Emperor tossed the plaque unceremoniously at Krennic's feet.

"Now you are equivalent to a Grand Admiral." Krennic stared at it for a second before picking it up. He pocketed his old plaque and fastened the new one to his white uniform.

"One last thing, Director." The Emperor turned to the others. "Admiral Rax, what would you say is the one thing anyone of Krennic's rank requires?"

Rax's eyes glittered. Krennic knew of the legends surrounding the mysterious Admiral who had some special connection to the Emperor and sent shivers down the spines of most officers who talked to him. "A ship, Sheev. A Grand Admiral requires a ship." Hell, he could even refer to the Emperor by his first name.

"Quite true." The Emperor replied, pointing out the massive bay window in his throne room to a star destroyer holding position in the distance above the Coruscant skyline. "Now, we have an available ship."

"It is the Executrix." Rax said. "I believe you've heard of it, Director Krennic?"

Krennic had indeed heard of the ISD Executrix. It had been Tarkin's flagship. And now it was his. A suitable beginning to the obliteration of his late rival's legacy. He smiled.

"I have indeed, Admiral Rax."

---

"We have a breach, Admiral."

Ozzel frowned. "What was that, Captain?"

Piett showed him the monitor. "A small freighter that escaped from the station that was towed into a repair hangar on Rear Admiral Sloane's orders. It turned out the crew was full of rebel spies observing our fleet movements. They were discovered after repairs were completed and after a brief firefight with security forces, escaped."

"This is very bad, Captain. It reflects poorly on your ability to secure my ship."

Go to hell you old fool. Piett thought. What he said (through gritted teeth) was; "I'm sorry, sir."

"Where are they now?"

"We're not sure."

"Find them. And contact Lord Vader's ship. Inform him personally of your failing."

Where most Imperial officers would feel fear, Piett simply felt a deep hatred towards his commanding officer.

The Executor's security chief was certain that the infiltrators were responsible for some issues with the power relays. Piett authorized more stormtroopers to be deployed to that section, then headed to his office to confront Lord Vader.

He inputted the necessary commands on the desk keyboard, and the holoprojector turned on. Lord Vader's helmet appeared above him, occasionally interrupted by interference, static, and the like.

"Captain Piett."

"Lord Vader." Piett was caught off guard by how much at ease the Dark Lord of the Sith seemed. Piett was under the impression he had taken his personalized TIE and led a squadron of interceptors to go assist the vanguard flotilla. He was supposedly in the middle of a battle right now.

"There are infiltrators aboard-

"-aboard my ship. I am aware and am already on my way back." So that was why he appeared so calm. His "Force" or whatever had informed him somehow that rebels had boarded the Executor, and he was flying in the opposite direction of the engagement. If it were any other Imperial, Piett would've found it a little too convenient that he was leaving the battle behind him, safely on his way back to the protection of the dreadnaught. But with Vader…

"Good. I will tell Admiral Ozzel." A long pause as Piett waited to be dismissed.

"No, Captain. Let me surprise the Admiral. And these infiltrators. It is possible they could tap into the ship's internal comms or have help from crew sympathetic to their cause. I want them to be caught off guard; no doubt they are here to rescue Skywalker."

Piett nodded. "Yes sir."

---

"ISB wants to review our in-battle engine room protocol?"

The Executor's Chief Engineer was a lean, middle-aged man with graying hair. His dark skin was covered in grease spots.

"Do you have a problem with that, officer?"

Buford had to hand it to the smuggler girl-she was acting wonderfully as an ISB officer. He doubted that even he could do better.

"Of course not. Guards, stand aside." The Navy troopers lowered their weapons and the team moved in.

Candace, Buford, and Baljeet had fortunately found stormtrooper armor their size, which they were using as disguises. Phineas was there as well, dressed in the grey-tunic-with-black-cap of an Imperial technician.

The group walked over to a console.

"Do you require a tour Inspector, or-"

"I am fine, thank you Engineer.'' Isabella said. "Return to your duty station." The officer nodded and hurried off somewhere else. Phineas began to work.

"How long is this going to take?" Candace asked.

"Could be a while. I'm not too familiar with Imperial systems."

"Just hurry up." Isabella snapped.

"You're not the boss of me. I'm not crew on your ship anymore."

"I can pull rank on you!"

"See, this is exactly why I left you. Your childhood on the streets has left you an aggressive, dysfunctional individual who is the perfect sodding caricature of the 'shoot first, ask questions never' type."

Isabella raised an eyebrow. "Dysfunctional?"

Everyone sensed that Phineas was treading on dangerous ground. Including, rather ironically, the usually oblivious kid himself.

"S-sorry, sorry." he grunted."Dysfunctional is probably the wrong word—psychology was always more Ferb's field than mine. Maybe...erratic?"

"Really?" Isabella asked."You're lucky I'm not real ISB. If I were, I could accuse you of treason and have you hauled off for questioning."

"Hey." Candace warned. "Don't threaten him."

"Oh, Candace. Always getting in the way. You never needed to try to break us up; apparently," Isabella glared at Phineas "we were doing a good enough job of that ourselves. But no, you just had to interfere every step of the way, always protecting your baby brother." Candace was looking increasingly uncomfortable.

"Through the firewall." Phineas announced. "I can shut down the reactor soon, but first—Candace, is this true? Did you not approve of me and Isabella dating?"

Candace coughed and avoided Phineas' gaze.

"Ooh, drama!" Buford said. "This reminds me of a famous Mon Calamari opera, the-"

"Shut up!" Isabella said. Her eyes were darting back and forth, looking at each member of her group.

"Everything alright over there?" Shouted the Executor's engineer.

"Yes, we're fine, thank you." Isabella shouted back. "Please do not disturb the ISB operation."

"So you mean to tell me, these part seven months, you have secretly attempted to meddle in my love life?"

"I was doing it for your protection!" Candace argued. "Come on, you see now pilot girl has issues. I was trying to help you!"

"I think that was my decision to make, Candace." Phineas said coldly. The computer beeped loudly. "I'm through the final layer. I just have to find the right command code subset inside the system matrices, and then-"

"We have incoming!" Buford interrupted. The Imperial engineer, accompanied by three stormtroopers, another ISB officer (an actual ISB officer) dressed in a large, gaberwool greatcoat, and one of the Navy Troopers from earlier, was walking over.

"I ordered you to leave my team undisturbed!" Isabella said loud enough for most of the reactor room to hear. The chief engineer flinched, but kept walking. Whatever it was he was coming to do was so important that it had overridden the natural fear of Imperial Security drilled into every officer, technician, crewman, soldier and citizen in the Empire.

"Inspector Kabe," he said. "We need to talk to you. This here is Lieutenant-Inspecgor Piorgi of ISB. He just has a few questions for you."

"Oh?"

The hearts of the rebel group collectively skipped a beat.

"What base where you trained at?"

Isabella's face went blank for half a second. "Uh….it's a secret, I mean classified. I was trained at a classified location."

Officer Piorgi nodded. "Uh-huh."

Buford reached for his blaster.

"And how long have you served in the Imperial Security Bureau?"

"Three years?"

Buford began to get nervous. Isabella's performance was fastly deteriorating. Between her damaged emotional state and confusion, it probably wouldn't be long before the ISB asshole caught on. If he hadn't already.

Piorgi frowned. "Uh-huh." He turned to one of the stormtroopers. "Is this her?"

The buckethead nodded. "Yeah."

Pirogi pulled a blaster out of his coat pocket and pointed it at Isabella. "Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, you're under arrest. You and your accomplices will be detained until your execution. Do not resist."

And then Phineas disabled the reactor and all systems, including the gravity generator, turned off.

---

"Are you sure this will work?" AZI-3 asked. Ferb shrugged and closed the box on top of probably the only friend in the galaxy he had right now. The reprogrammed labor droid pushed the cart out of the short-lived sanctuary and into the hallway and Ferb followed.

His disguise seemed to be working-practically no attention was paid to his group.

He reached the hangar doors and found them blocked. Several Kaminoan officers from Tipoca Security in mechanized battle armor or riot gear, four stormtroopers, and most distressingly, two Perry clones.

"Hold it." one of the Stormtroopers said. "Where are you headed soldier?"

Ferb had anticipated this. He waved his hand in front of the stormtrooper's helmet.

"You will let me pass." After a tense second, the stormtroopers all echoed Ferb's words in unison and the door opened.

"What the-?" one Kaminoan said. "It's the Jedi boy!" Either Kaminoans were resistant to mind tricks, or they were just smarter than the average stormtrooper.

"Get him!"

As Ferb moved to avoid stun blasts and shock batons, he lost concentration and the stormtroopers snapped out of his control.

"Gahh!" one screamed. "Er, get him!"

"Bit late there, bud." Ferb said, and force-pushed him against the wall. Another stormtrooper shot at him and Ferb stabbed him with his lightsaber. Two Kaminoans in riot gear attacked him from both sides, but Ferb ducked and they nearly hit each other with their stun batons. They recovered quickly, but were gunned down accidentally by a stormtrooper shooting stun blasts at Ferb. Ferb shot the trooper, and force-pushed his corpse so it plowed through several Kaminoans, knocking the alien soldiers over like bowling pins.

Two of the Kaminoans in mechanised armour came at him next, but Ferb used the force to entangle their metal exoskeletons.

"Come one," he whined sarcastically. "At least challenge me a little."

One stormtrooper decided to flee, but Ferbs stuck his foot in front of the soldier and tripped them. They stayed down, not from injury but instead fear.

The final buckethead ran at Ferb. Ferb simply shot the trooper. He pushed two more Kaminoans against the wall and hit a third with his wrench. All three fell limply to the floor.

He paused, feeling a certain vague satisfaction in his work. And then the platypus clones attacked.

One punched his face and Ferb stepped back a bit. This gave the second one the opening it needed to sweep his legs out from under him with its large tail.

Ferb tried to get back up, but both clones launched themselves at his chest. He fell back down. Every time he raised a hand to move his body back up or force-push one Platypus against a wall, another clone would slap it back to the floor.

He could always turn his lightsaber on, or shoot them, but he could never kill something that resembled the rebel spy that had masqueraded as the beloved family pet of the Flynn-Fletcher clan on Tatooine. Perry was his friend, even if these things were not.

One of the platypus clones raised its leg. Ferb noticed a sharp spike on the leg, the infamous poison spur. Ferb knew for a fact that the spur only released venom during mating season, but he had a hunch that Darthenshmirtz, Tanmi, and the other geneticists had modified the clones so that it could be released anytime.

He reacted quickly and kicked up and over with his leg. The platypus slammed into its companion, the spur buried in the second one's back. The first one was too busy trying to pull its now-stuck leg out of its companion's limp body to stop Ferb from signaling the labor droid pushing AZI's crate to follow him into the hangar.

The stormtroopers and Kaminoans milling about inside ignored them for the most part. A well-placed mind trick on the deck sergeant allowed him to get him and AZI inside the YT-2400 freighter.

"Free!" the medical droid shouted. "Now take this thing and fly away!"

"Not yet." Ferb said. "Tractor beam locking it down. I'm going to have to disable the projector at the mouth of the hangar."

"Will that be hard?"

"Probably."

Ferb managed to get close enough to program the tractor beam to fail in minutes. By the time the Imperial techs discovered the sabotage, he'd be safe in hyperspace. He could bide his time, and when ready, come back and free Perry, and then go and free his parents too.

"Told you I'd find him before Diminutive, Yaami. Death troopers, battle stance!"

Ferb groaned and turned around. Every Imperial soldier in the hangar was pointing a blaster at him. In the center of it all stood the death troopers, Yaami, and Darthenshmirtz.

"Hah! Ferb, save us time and surrender now! I promise you will not be harmed. Just lay down your weapons!"

Before Ferb could reply, the death troopers on Darthenshmirtz's right were all shoved against the wall as if they had been thrown there. A second later, those on his left did the same. While Darthensmirtz's jaw went slack in shock and Yaami tried to figure out what was going on, a ray shield surrounded the two. Darthenshmirtz pounded uselessly against the energy barrier.

Ferb raised an eyebrow and continued walking to his ship. "Ooh, plot twist. And since you're there, that means…."

"I will be the one to bring Ferb Fletcher to heel. That glory lies at the feet of me and not you, Heinz."

As if on cue, Darth Diminutive leapt out of the shadows, landing right in front of Ferb's new ship. The tiny man waved the Stormtroopers and Kaminoan guardsmen back, making it clear this was his fight and his alone.

Ferb readied himself and turned on his lightsaber.

---

Several things were happening at once.

Generals Draven and Dodonna were arguing over how they should support Leia's team, how they should punish her for disobeying orders, if they even outranked her enough to punish her, and if they should hold the fleet until she returned. It seemed to observers that they changed their stance on each topic almost as much as they changed topics themselves.

Han, Cassian, and one of the commandos entered Luke's cell. The Death Troopers had surprised them and they were engaged in a hand-to-hand battle with the soldiers, which hand just become a little more confusing with the sudden deactivation of the ship's gravity.

Leia and R2-D2 were decoupling C-3P0 from a computer.

Isabella was reaching for her blaster as Piorgi, Candace, Buford, Baljeet, the second rebel commando and the stormtroopers did the was happening while every single one of them, along with everybody aboard the Executor, were moving in every direction with no artificial gravity to hold them back.

Bodhi, Chopper, and K2 had just made it to the hangar where the ship was. Bodhi had every intention of following Candace's orders to sit and wait, but Chopper and K2's attitudes, combined with the sudden lack of gravity, resulted in them attracting the completely unwanted attention of the hangar's security detail.

Admiral Ozzel was demanding Captain Piett explain the sudden lack of gravity on his ship.

Darth Vader was racing back to the Executor to stop Luke from being freed.

On Kamino, Ferb and Diminutive began to duel each other, while Darthenshmirtz made a call.

Doctor Tanmi was observing the battle in the hangar and rapidly amending plans to accommodate the many possible outcomes of the duel.

And Director Krennic was touring the ISD Executrix when he received a desperate call from Darthenshmirtz.

---

"How did that trooper know me?" Isabella demanded. Piorgi fired his blaster, and she floated out of the way.

"He was serving on the Armengoltiax facility when he encountered a bounty hunter delivering some secret rebel prisoner to Lord Vader. He described fighting against you in a hangar bay to me in his debriefing before I became aware of another ISB officer's presence. He claimed that from what we saw on the security cams, it might be you. I came down to check it out."

"Seems a little to convenient." Isabella muttered, shooting at the ISB officer.

Piorgi shrugged and fired back. "Probably. But it works out for me, so I'm not complaining." He laughed a little.

Candace was having a different, more difficult conversation with Phineas.

"You can clearly see she is unstable!"

"I can now, and I would have without your interference! I did not need your help!"

And still, a third conversation, perhaps strangest of all, was taking place between Buford and Baljeet while they shot at stormtroopers.

"So hyperspace is like another dimension, right?" Buford asked.

"Yes…" Baljeet said, unsure where this was heading. He moved behind the floating body of an already-fallen stormtrooper to avoid getting shot.

"And according to this multiverse theory you told me about, there are infinite dimensions, right?" Buford grabbed a stormtrooper who hadn't gotten used to the lack of gravity and shot him through the chest.

"Right."

"So, in theory, I could use hyperspace to travel to another dimension, one made entirely of pie?"

Ah. Of course.

"You know what Buford? Sure. After we're done here, you can jump out into open hyperspace and find your pie dimension."

"Was that sarcasm I heard in the nerd's voice? Because no nerd can use sarcasm against Buford Van-"

Before Buford could do anything to Baljeet, or Piorgi and Isabella could kill each other, Phineas switched the gravity back on. Everybody fell. Fortunately, all of the rebels landed on the same catwalk they had started on.

Piorgi fell to a walkway five metres below, landing on his back. He cried out and then lay still.

"I've got the gravity and atmospheric systems running on emergency power. Everything else is disabled." Phineas said.

Candace smiled. "Excellent. Move to the rendezvous point in the hangar.

---

When the artificial gravity turned back on, Admiral Ozzel fell right on top of Captain Piett.

"By the war fleet of Kossak the Hutt!" Piett swore.

Admiral Ozzel got up quickly. "We have power again!"

"Uh, no sir." a nearby crewman said. "Only atmospheric and gravitational systems are online. Everything else is down."

"We're stuck here." Piett said.

"And we can't contact the rest of the fleet since coms are offline." Ozzel said.

"We're a sitting duck. An easy target for the rebels."

"Worse," Ozzel replied. "We're an easy target for Lord Vader's wrath should he return."

Piett nodded silently. Per his orders, he hadn't told Ozzel that the Sith Lord was already well on his way back.

"Oh, what's this?" Ozzel said.

"Sir?"

"It seems all the hangar blast doors except one have been shut."

"If I may ask, which one is the open one?"

"Repair Bay 7. It seems to be the same one that the ship full of rebels landed in earlier. Captain, take some soldiers and go check this out."

---

"Vader's flagship has stopped." an officer said. "There are no power readings from it."

"The Princess." Draven realized. "She's bought us a little time."

"Maybe more." Dodonna said. "Their fleet has been thrown into disarray. From the snippets we can get before they hop frequencies again, it seems Rear Admiral Sloane is attempting to salvage the overall battle plan..."

"I'm sensing a but."

"But the Imperial ships are far too scattered and interference from both the Armengolitax nebula and the remnants of the electrical storm are keeping her from establishing a coherent strategy among the captains."

"We have to press the advantage!" Orthua said.

Dodonna nodded and pointed at two dots on the battle map. "Agreed. Send every available starfighter to target the interictors. We need to get out of here."

"No." Draven said. "We need to target both the Vigilance and the Executor with every ion torpedo we have. If Admiral Sloane manages to take command or Ozzel is able to contact his fleet, it won't matter if the interdictors are still keeping us from jumping or not. Our ships would be decimated."

"I understand that as a spymaster, you see cutting the head off the snake, so to speak, as the easiest way to defeat an enemy." Draven fought the scowl that was beginning to form "But this is not one of your assassinations Draven. This is a battle, a battle where our priority is to get away as fast as possible with every transport intact."

"And we cannot do that if either of the two Imperial admirals manage to organize what's left of their fleet again. I'm telling you, we have to disable the Vigilance keep Sloane from-"

"Oh no." Orthua said. "Get down! Everybody GET DOWN!" Before anybody could duck, the door to the bridge exploded. Orthua pressed a button on the holotable console, activating a ray shield separating the aft section of the bridge from the front. It was a security feature that had actually been added at Draven's suggestion—if the bridge was breached, they could seal off the forward areas and keep the ship in operation. It was meant to be used in situations, well, exactly like this.

"What's happening?" Dodonna asked.

"Lieutenant Sniben managed to hold off most of the Imperial forces. However, it seems the Storm commandos escaped into the ducts and continued towards the bridge to salvage their original mission."

"Exactly like the first time." Dodonna muttered. Draven looked at him. "Back in the Clone Wars, when the Mantellian Gambit was invented. It happened exactly like this." A rebel trooper, posted on the bridge as security, fell to blaster fire.

"What do we do?" Draven asked. He moved from behind the console and shot at the assailants before diving back behind it.

Dodonna glanced at him and then turned on a comlink. "This is General Dodonna to all rebel starfighters and bombers. Concentrate your attacks on the Interdictor cruisers."

Draven scowled and looked at Orthua. She shrugged. "It is the better plan."

---

Krennic walked into the bridge of the Executrix. The ship's captain, a younger officer who had been brought in to replace the previous captain (a Tarkin loyalist who no doubt would have interfered with Krennic's agenda out of loyalty to their deceased idol) followed behind him with a few of the ship's senior officers, all attempting to gauge the command style of their new superior..

"How soon until we can shove off?"Krennic asked.

The captain coughed. "Uhm, three hours Director. Four if Coruscant Space Traffic Command is dealing with a backup."

Krennic shrugged. "Well, I'm not heading anywhere else anytime soon. Run through the pre-flight checklist four times. I want to be completely sure the ship is ready. But if there is a problem by the time we shove off, I will be very disappointed."

The Executrix's captain nodded. "Of course, sir."

Krennic's com beeped. He took it off his belt.

"Yes?"

"Orson!" Darthenshmirtz was practically screaming. "Diminutive fight Ferb! And there's a forcefield. I'm trapped!"

Krennic gave an exasperated sigh. "What was that Heinz?"

A pause. Then Lieutenant Yaami began speaking; "We went to confront Ferb in the hangar but as we walked up to him Darth Diminutive trapped use inside a force field. I'm watching the battle right now."

"Who's winning?"

"Neither."

"Are either of you hurt?"

"No."

"Is the boy hurt? I know Heinz said the Emperor wants him left untouched."

"No."

"Have Heinz and his design group begun work on the new schematics for the Second Death Sta-"

"No, okay?" Darthenshmirtz interrupted. "I've spent the better part of the last goddamn week trying to recapture Fletcher who escaped because you-and I am not trying to deflect blame here, so don't even try to lecture me-because you insisted he be brought out to the landing platform with his parents when you arrived! Force knows why, but you insisted, and somehow he escaped as he was being taken back to the detention facility inside my lair."

Krennic sighed, intentionally making it loud enough to be hear on the other end of the call. "As I recall, I had the rebel agent who is being used as a template for your platypus clones brought out as well."

At this point, Yaami chimed in. "Yes, but Perry the Platypus is not force sensitive."

"Is that all the explanation I'm getting?"

"Yes." Darthenshmirtz and Yaami said in unison.

Krennic groaned. "I'll be there as soon as possible."

---

The stormtroopers fired again and Bodhi curled up into an even tighter ball as he desperately tired to find his blaster. He knew he had it somewhere…

K2-S0 and Chopper were busy taking care of the troopers their own way. K2 alternated between picking the troopers up and throwing them at each other and just plain out shooting them, while Chopper used his boosters to rocket around on his central wheel—knocking into bucketheads as he moved.

A Navy Trooper, thrown by K2, landed with a groan near Bodhi. Quickly, Bodhi grabbed her blaster and finally began firing. He thought the Imperial ranks might be thinning, but then again, it was said the Empire had nearly as many men as the sky had stars, and that certainly seemed to be true.

Slowly, he and the droids moved forwards, inching towards S8-8117…

Then, more troopers surrounded the Gozanti-class cruiser. To his right, a door opened. Several stormtroopers ran through, Bodhi cowered, and then...they all got shot down from behind.

Candace's group ran through. Following her orders, they moved into a sort of formation with the others, establishing a perimeter as they were cut off from their ship.

"Lieutenant…!" Bodhi gaped.

Candace have a sharp nod. "Ensign."

"We're cut off! What's the plan?" Dragging a large box over to help form the perimeter, Isabella looked up.

"Oh yeah. You do have a plan, right?"

"Yeah." Candace grunted, sniping at Navy troopers who happened to be in her line of fire. "Stay here, wait for the others, rush for S8-8117 when our numbers are large enough."

"Ess ate what?" Isabella asked.

"S8-8117. The ship!"

"Oh."

---

"That's strange." Major Ziff said, speaking through a mouth full of fried nerf meat.

"Hmm?" Lieutenant M'Nibfro. He put down his datapad (He was reading an interesting essay on deep-space creatures and their biology) and looked at the console.

"Seems a repair hangar is the only one with blast doors that are open. Take some guys and go, like, check it out."

M'Nibfro's snout twitched-his version of a frown. "Major, is that really-"

Ziff waved a bone, the meat all consumed, at him. "Do not," she began "interrupt my meal. Just take some Navy troopers and go investigate it."

---

When Colonel Crefet was a young man fresh out of the academy, he had been commissioned as a Lieutenant and given command of an Army Trooper platoon. He led them to both victory and defeat in many campaigns throughout the outer rim.

Once, during a conquest on a planet so remote its name was just an incomprehensible number, Lieutenant Crefet had desperately adopted a poor strategy of leading his men through an unmapped cave system to make it across enemy lines. Miraculously, the plan had worked (despite the fact that there was a more obvious plan suited to this particular battle that Crefet had been too stupid to think off), and Crefet had revived a promotion to Captain.

Though even in victory, war will leave scars that are hard to see.

One soldier received a minor concussion from a rock that fell on his head in the caves. Strangely, he survived the battle, but mental difficulties would plague him at random times for years afterwards. Some point following the battle, the soldier ended up as a supply sergeant at an Imperial transport base. He would remain there for several years, making little mistakes as a result of the injury every now and then, until the Battle of Yavin.

It was never explained to him what exactly had happened, but the previous Taskmaster had been deposed and the former soldier had taken the reigns as the new Taskmaster-Supply Chief for the base and Headmaster for the small Imperial Academy located there.

(Known only to a select few, the reason for the previous Taskmaster's removal was that his star pupil, Cadet Flynn had defected to the Rebellion and interfered in some way with a machine created by someone commonly referred to as "The Lowest of the Darths". Despite the fact that the Death Star's destruction would have accomplished what she and her allies did, the insanity and pettiness of this particular Sith required that the Taskmaster be executed by ISB regardless-supposedly a fitting punishment for failing to instil loyalty to the Empire in his pupils).

And there, the injury he sustained years ago continued to affect him and the Empire's weakening supply chain (and, to a lesser extent, the cadets he taught, ironic considering that was more or less the same thing his predecessor had been killed for).

Four months into his new position, he made a mistake that would seem to influence events far beyond his little transport hub.

He mixed up and two sets of cargo were each sent to the other's destination.

A shipment of shield repair parts, turbolaser energy cells, and hyperfuel coolant mistakenly ended up on Kamino.

It was ironic that it was the now-Colonel Crefet who ordered that the crates be moved-delicately, considering their volatile contents-into Tipoca City's military storeroom while its real destination could be found, a task that distracted, and ultimately prevented, the Imperial engineers from fixing a glitch in the security systems of a cell block. The unresolved issue allowed a certain young Jedi to escape.

The other shipment ended up at Fondor. The lack of extra repair supplies resulted in several ships, most notably Captain Needa's Avenger, not being completely repaired, and as a result, not ready for battle.

(Reflecting on this later, a committee would decide this was likely the reason Commander Garavale lost to the small group of Y-Wings and Vulture droids at the Armengoltiax Cluster).

The weaponry that had arrived at Fondor was given away at random to Imperial ships. Ships such as the Executor received several crates of explosives and rocket launchers. Major Ziff had apathetically had them moved them into a repair hangar where she believed they would be out of the way.

---

Captain Piett arrived in the repair hangar in time to witness a fuel main explode. Amidst all the chaos, he sought out the highest-ranked officer present.

That damned Mustafarian lieutenant.

"Captain." M'Nibfro greeted.

"Lieutenant." Piett ducked to avoid shrapnel. "What happened?"

"It appears two groups of infiltrators met up."

A laser blast flew past Piett's head, leaving the air smelling faintly of ozone. "I was not aware there were two." Piett said, fumbling around for a weapon.

"Neither was I. But the number of individuals aboard that craft in the original is exceeded by the number of rebels currently there. It is also possible Leia Organa is among the group; frontline soldiers report a human woman resembling her among the crowd of rebels."

"Excellent." Piett said. "Lord Vader will be most pleased. With Lu-" he stopped himself. Lord Vader had asked for it to be kept secret that Skywalker was onboard. For some reason, he was very weird about the kid. Piett glanced at M'Nibfro, but the Mustafarian was focused entirely on the battle. "Press the attack!"

---

Their group was all together now. They were ready to push towards their escape ship. And then Darth Vader arrived.

His TIE Advanced scorched and damaged by an electrical storm that not even he could avoid, Vader landed in the hangar bay. Sparks flew as the ship screeched across the floor, plowing through stormtroopers like bowling pins.

The star fighter finally came to a stop near Piett's command post. The hatch, charred beyond recognition, flew off and landed on a nearby flight droid. Vader stepped out and turned on his lightsaber.

"Focus all fire on Vader!" Leia screamed.

"Are you nuts?" Han shouted. "He'll just use his laser sword and-" One of the blaster bolts was deflected back at them. It hit K2-S0, adding another hole to his chassis.

"Ow." the droid muttered.

"-that will happen." Han finished. "We need something that he can't bounce off of his laser sword-"

"Lightsaber."

"-lightsaber."

Of course, no one had anything. K2 suggested that he could throw a box, but Phineas pointed out that Vader could just use the Force to throw it right back at them.

Leia slumped down while the others bickered over plans and shot at the Imperial forces. One of the commandos screamed-Vader had used the Force to snap their neck.

Something exploded, knocking Leia, some of the others, and a few boxes over. As she picked herself back up, Leia saw one of the boxes had been knocked open when it fell over. Inside was a rocket launcher.

Leia grabbed and armed the weapon, released the safety, and fired. The explosive tore through the repair hangar towards Darth Vader. Leia couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw just the faintest hint of fear in his stance as the rocket neared him.

And then it stopped.

"What?"

With the Force, Vader held back the bomb just a meter from him.

"Your explosives are insignificant compared to the power of the dark side!" he boomed.

"I hate evil space wizards." Isabella grumbled.

"Now!" Candace shouted. "Fire!"

Though there had been no real plan among the rebels, many of the Imperial soldiers and officers present in the bay would later commend their foes (well out of Vader's earshot and with a bitterness to their words) on what they saw as a brilliantly executed strategy.

Several Stormtroopers and Navy Troopers fell in the first ten seconds, the rest scattering in confusion. Satisfied that the grunts were pacified for the moment, Candace aimed and fired at the rocket being held in place by Vader. Her aim was, naturally, true and the thing exploded.

In truth, it began to explode. Reacting with what might've been precognition, Vader had dropped his lightsaber and stretched out both of his robotic hands to contain the blast. He was doing the best he could (and indeed far better than most of the Jedi of old, and even many of the ancient Sith, could have), but the force of the explosion was too much and even he could not keep it contained for long.

Seizing the opportunity, the rebels sprinted for S8-8117. They climbed up the external gantry, boarded the craft, and, after Cassian and Leia threw a few parting shots over their shoulders, the airlock slid shut.

Inside the cockpit, there was some brief confusion as Cassian, Isabella, Bodhi, and Han all jockeyed for the pilot's seat. Somehow Bodhi won, and it was he who took the Gozanti-class cruiser out of the hangar bay just as Vader lost control of the bomb and everything exploded.

He would not die, of course, being a Sith Lord. And neither would Captain Piett or Lieutenant M'Nibfro, the two Imperial officers having been smart enough to get out of the area before it was consumed in flames.

But for the moment, the crew and passengers of S8-8117 were safe.

---

Two minutes earlier

"We're through!" a technician shouted. "I've broken the firewalls! The ship's ours again."

"Quickly!" Ozzel shouted. "Show me Repair Hangar 7!"

A crewman pulled it up on the screen nearest to the Fleet Admiral. The battle was still playing out then, and Ozzel watched in amazement and then horror as the rebels managed to make it to their stolen ship.

"Tr-tractor beams!" he sputtered. "Target their ship! Don't let them escape!"

"Sir, we really should raise the shields."

"Don't let them escape! Lord Vader will have our heads-my head-if we let them get away."

---

The ringing in General Draven's head subsided and he slowly got to his feet.

His head was wet. He touched it, pulled his hand back. It was red. Blood.

He remembered where he was.

The bridge of the Freedom. The storm commandos attacked, and...chaos, death...the last thing he remembered was an explosion.

He looked around. Everywhere, there were bodies. Imperial bodies, rebel bodies. It looked like they had won. The front of the bridge was still largely the same, implying that his ray-shield had held. Orthua was nowhere in sight, but Dodonna was lying unconscious nearby, a wound in his chest. Doctors and medical droids were hard at work keeping him alive.

"General Draven!" A medical orderly said, rushing over. "We're sorry, but General Dodonna's wound was deemed more serious. We administered a medpac and cleaned your wound, but-"

"It's fine." Draven said, wincing as he stood. "You made the right choice. Where is Captain Orthua?"

"The captain led the charge back to the hangar." someone else, a bridge officer, said.

"The hangar?"

"Admiral Sloane managed to regain control and ordered that they press their attempts to take the ship. Several more boarding craft landed about an hour ago and-"

An hour ago? "How long have I been out?"

The medical orderly spoke. "We think nearly two hours."

Two hours? Sweet mother of Malachor.

He rushed towards the viewports at the front of the bridge.

Nearby, he could spy the flaming wreckage of one interdictor, while the other was nowhere in sight. X-Wings and TIEs chased each other. An Imperial cruiser charged the rebel ships, a few volleys were exchanged, and the Freedom shook as it was hit. And behind it all; the Executor, drifting aimlessly, escorted by two regular star destroyers.

"What…" Draven gasped, his side hurting suddenly. The two hurried to his side. "...is the state of the battle?"

The bridge officer frowned, considering his response. "We destroyed one interdictor, General, the other almost defeated as well. You already know about the boarding attempts and Admiral Sloane regaining control of the fleet."

"Anything else of note?"

"The Executor drifted into sight, as you can see. It hasn't done anything."

"Are the shields down?"

"Shields, weapons, we think everything."

The perfect target… Draven moved forwards. "Gah!" Pain shot up his left side. The orderly grabbed him.

"Sir, you need to rest." Draven waved him off.

"I'm fine. Someone needs to..ah!...take command, and I'm the only one available."

"We found them!" a crewman in the starboard data pit shouted. "S8-8117 is hovering right outside an auxiliary repair bay on the Executor. They're caught in a tractor beam!"

The perfect situation to put his original plan in motion. Not that that was why he was doing it-he has never really required recognition or glory. It was just his duty.

"Open a channel to the fleet." he ordered. A beep signaled that the com was ready. "All ships, target the Executor. Full power."

---

The dreadnaught shook. Despite their ragtag appearance, the Rebel ships were outfitted with some surprisingly powerful weaponry. Or perhaps it was that the Executor was already so damaged by the electrical storm that the rebels were just finishing the job.

Whatever the cause, it was apparent that if the shields would need to be raised or the ship would be torn apart. However, the ship was still being recalibrated after Phineas' shutdown, and the tractor beam would likely have to be shut down to activate the shield generators.

"No." Ozzel said quietly. The Executor's chief engineer, still out-of-sorts from the battle in his engine room, frowned.

"Sir, with all due respect, if we don't get the shields up, we'll die."

"If we turn off the tractor beam and let that ship get away, we'll die. Vader will kill us-and us includes me!"

"We understand sir. However, with all due respect sir, saving the ship is more important than some prisoners, no matter how high profile." It was another officer that time-Ozzel, his vision gone blurry from stress, could not identify who. For all he knew, the person could be the lowest crewman aboard, lecturing the Admiral on how to run his ship. "Surely even Lord Vader would understand." No he wouldn't. "We need to raise the shields"

Ozzel considered his options. He had never really been particularly suited for command, but making the difficult decisions were the hardest part of the job.

On one had, he could raise the shields, (definitely) save his ship, his crew, and himself but allow the rebels to escape, which would (most likely) incur Vader's wrath.

The other option was to (hopefully) appease Vader by keeping the rebels locked in place, and his ship open to enemy fire, thereby (probably) destroying it.

Somewhere inside himself, Ozzel was aware of the ship continually shaking, people screaming, and the deafening, yet somehow faint, sound of things exploding somewhere.

He could not decide. He would not decide. Both options meant certain death for him. He was never particularly suited for command. It had only been because of that blasted accident he had been he had been given control of the ship and even then…

The Executor shook again, so hard that this time officers fell into the crew pits.

"It's that damn star destroyer! If Refinartok hadn't lost at Naboo, that ship would still be shooting at them, not us!" someone shouted. Ozzel had to agree, though he was aware that comment was not entirely true-it was Vader's fault for dragging Refinartok down to the surface of Naboo, and leaving that inexperienced first officer in charge. What was that guy's name-Gargle? Garbled? Gargamel? Ah, no wait-Garavle. That was it.

It was Commander Garavle whose decision to save the lives of his crew over defeating the enemy. By all reports this trait had made him more popular among the crew of the Avenger than their own captain. Choosing the crew over victory…

Ozzel sighed. "Raise the shields." he said at last. "Raise the damn shields."

At the very least, he could take an escape pod if Vader got mad. The targeting sensors were still offline, so he could disappear. He was relatively certain there was a shadowport not too far from here…

---

"We're free!" Bohdi announced to the rest of the cockpit.

"Move!" Candace shouted.

"Punch it!" Cassian said.

"Fly!" Leia ordered.

"Get out of here!" Han screamed.

S8-8117 sped past the Executor. Someone, likely Buford, fired at the damaged ship. It did little good since the shields were already up, it perfectly symbolized how the crew of rebel misfits felt about their successful operation.

A few TIEs flew after them, but most were easily shot down. One even flew into an energy cloud-a final casualty of the dying electrical storm.

"Is this S8-uh-something-something?" the radio beeped. "This is the Freedom. Hello?"

"Uh, yes, yes, this is S8-8117!" Bodhi said. "We are here!"

"General!" the voice said, though it sounded like the person on the other end was facing away from their com. "We've-khcck!-found them!"

The com screamed as a result of feedback-likely the mic on the other end was being jostled roughly as it switched hands.

"Princess! Captain Andor!"

"General Draven." Leia responded.

"Your Highness! We're tracking your ship-you're not to far from-khhckk!-be wary of-khhckk!"

The com gave a low whine, causing everyone in the cockpit to cover their ears until it at last subsided.

---

Behind him; a long fall to the raging ocean that covered all of Kamino.

In front of him; Darth Diminutive, mad as hell, and bent on killing him.

Darth Diminutive was far stronger than Heinz Doofenshmirtz. Ferb now lay on the edge of the outermost platform above the ocean, beyond the gaping maw of the hangar bay. A few cuts had been enough to coat him in blood. A wound he had received earlier in the day had been reopened, and with it naturally came the pain.

"Ah ha ha!" Diminutive shouted. "You-you're dead Ferb! You-" The man became too excited and began to stumble over his own garbled words.

"Don't kill him!" Darthenshmirtz shouted. "The Emperor demands him alive!"

Diminutive and Ferb looked back into the hangar. Darthenshmirtz still stood inside the force field, though the Death troopers looked weary. Ferb swore he saw Yaami start to doze off before jerking out of his microsleep

"The Emperor," Diminutive said, gasping for breath suddenly. "Ees of no...heh..c-c-concern." His eyes began dilating rapidly, and Ferb thought he saw the tiny man drooling. "Me...I tapped into something far greater! Power! Great power! Ahahaha!"

Across the room, Darthensmirtz's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"The boy!" Diminutive screamed. "It comes from him! It seeps from him like ink bleeding through a leaf of paper! It is unnatural, it is ancient, but it is power!"

The security forces in the hangar, who had until now held back for fear of angering one Sith by helping the other, seemed to come to an agreement. A stormtrooper stepped forward and-

-they flew out the hangar and into the ocean.

"Stay!" Diminutive commanded. The Stormtroopers and Kaminoans stepped back. "He's mine!" A few smarter troopers ran out a side door.

Ferb groaned. Everything hurt…

Just then, the ray shield around Darthenshmirtz collapsed. "Aha! I am free!" he shouted.

If he had time, Ferb would've paused to wonder why the ray shield had dropped, but time was not on his side. (Crefet has made a decision as to where his allegiance lay.) Darth Diminutive, screamed madly and lunged towards Darthenshmirtz.

Ferb picked himself up, ignited his lightsaber, and jumped at Diminutive. Darthenshmirtz, meanwhile, had not waited for Yaami and the Death troopers to organise themselves, and sprinted forwards towards Diminutive.

The tiny madman met them both with fury. As he blocked Darthenshmirtz's lightsaber with his own, he kicked Ferb in the groin.

"Do not...do not...do not stop me…" Diminutive said. "Do not…"

Darthenshmirtz pressed forwards. Diminutive, becoming more and more unstable, both mentally and physically, mumbled something and fell back. Ferb, on the ground, rose up quickly and moved to drive his lightsaber into the man's back. Darthenshmirtz did the same. At the last second, however, Diminutive ducked and rolled, forcing the Jedi and Sith to duel each other as they moved back into the hangar bay.

"We always to seem to end up doing this, don't we?" Ferb asked as he and Darthenshmirtz locked blades.

"Shaddup." He pushed Ferb and lunged at Diminutive.

Seeing opportunity, Ferb began to run toward the freighter. A stormtrooper crossed his path and Ferb was forced to slow down to dispatch him. This hesitation gave Diminutive, who had freed himself, the time he needed to catch up too and tackle Ferb.

"MINE!" Diminutive shrieked. "It mine. The power is all MINE!"

Ferb, momentarily unsure of what the tiny madman was screaming about, opted to simply kick Diminutive back.

"What the bloody hell are you going on about?"

"You don't….n-n-know, do y-you?" Diminutive said shakily. "It comes from you….like a blessing...and a...c-curse. Power. Grate power. GRATE power! Or is it...great power…? Heh heh."

"Ferb is my prisoner!" Darthenshmirtz shouted, jumping towards Diminutive with his lightsaber raised. The shorter Sith tucked and rolled so that Darthenshmirtz landed on his long nose. "Gah! The last time you moved that fast was during that brawl with those Rodians in that bar on Hovun IV, and that was before the hip replacement! What's going on with you?"

"While I would love to hear what promises to be a very entertaining story," Ferb said hopping over the corpse of a stormtrooper, "two dumb Sith and a bunch of Rodians walk into a bar does sound like the beginning of a bad joke, after all, I really must get going-AHH!"

He was yanked back. As he got to his feet, Ferb began to feel like…like his windpipe was closing. His hands went to his throat, and he began to slowly rise off the ground.

"Hahaha!" Diminutive laughed. "You...you cannot leeeaaavveee Ferb! I need you power! AUUGGHH!" He began to scream.

"It's driving him mad!" Darthenshmirtz shouted while trying to tackle his colleague. "Whatever the hell you're doing, Ferb, stop it!"

"I'm-ghacckkk!-not doing any-ahh-thing!" Ferb wheezed. "Whatever he's talking about is-ghaacckk-not being caused by me!" Diminutive's concentration broke, letting Ferb fall to the floor. "Thank the force…"

"MINE!" Diminutive shouted. "HE MINE. I NEED POWER!" The tiny man started to run towards Darthenshmirtz, who force-pushed him back in response. Ferb meanwhile, had turned his lightsaber back on and was preparing to charge towards Diminutive when-

Diminutive was pushed by Darthenshmirtz, flew threw the air, and was impaled on Ferb's lightsaber. Surprised, Ferb turned it off. Diminutive slid to the floor, collapsing in the his own blood.

"I-I was a Sith kebab.." he giggled, though it seemed that the crazy energy was fading. "You really are unaware of it?" He looked at Ferb. The boy nodded. "It's something dangerous. I feel it's not really yours, but also is. Probably a curse. Be careful." Ferb blinked.

"You're not making any sense." Ferb said. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Ha." Diminutive weakly coughed up blood as he lay on the ground. The very stereotype of death. "Is this what peace feels like? Those blasted Jedi values were right, weren't they? I guess I wasted my life in service to the Sith." He looked at Darthenshmirtz. "Tough-well tougher, times are coming, old friend. Take care of yourself."

He died.

"What," Darthenshmirtz began, "did any of that mean?" He looked at Ferb. "Ancient? You?" Ferb shrugged. "Come on. Clearly he was still in the grip of madness when he was talking."

"Clearly!" echoed Yaami. Ferb noticed he was hidden behind a small stack of crates and power cells-cleary he was trying to keep out of the battle and clearly he believed he would be hidden and safe behind the tiny stack (clearly, he was wrong).

Ferb sighed and picked himself up. Darthenshmirtz and the Imperial forces began to close in.

"Just surrender, Ferb." Darthenshmirtz said. This time, though, it wasn't arrogance or a desire to prove himself speaking. It was fatigue. They had been fighting all day, and everyone, the entirety of Tipoca City, was tired of it.

"Never." Ferb said. He looked around. Darthenshmirtz was blocking the path to the ship, but there was a cargo crane hanging above...an idea began to form. Ferb jumped backwards over the stormtroopers, landing on a large box marked "Starship Repair Supplies, Destination: Fondor" in both Aurebesh and High Galactic.

"Get him!" Darthenshmirtz shouted, though it was with far less enthusiasm and anger than it had been the other times. The stormtroopers and Kaminoans rushed forwards and…

...Ferb reached out with the force. He could feel everything in the room. The beating hearts of the soldiers. Darthensmirtz's weary rage. Above them all, a cargo crane, derelict from decades of near-constant disuse. The joints were rusted, the gears cracked. All it would take was one push, and then…

...Ferb opened his eyes just in time to see the crane crash down on everything. The force of the impact was so severe that the floor-which had been sliced perforated many times by lightsabers belonging to a certain trio of people not three minutes earlier-collapsed.

The gaping hole swallowed not only the soldiers sent to retrieve him, but also Darthenshmirtz and the Death troopers as well.

Feeling pleased with himself, Ferb made his way over to the YT-series freighter. Only two stormtroopers tried to stop him (one ended up sent down the hole in the floor, the other was later found clinging to the edge of the external platform hanging over the ocean).

He approached the boarding ramp, almost there, almost free.

"Stop." Lieutenant Yaami was trembling ever so slightly, evidenced by his shaking blaster. "I won't let you leave." His olive green uniform (the black NCO one he had worn on Tatooine long ago replaced when Yaami was fully promoted into the Officer Corps) was stained with scorch marks and blood-souvenirs of the battle that would remain for a long time.

"You should just move. It'd be easier."

Yaami seemed to consider this for a moment. "I cannot leave. Lord…" he paused for breath. Like all of them, the day had left him fatigued. "Lord Darthenshmirtz has decreed that you cannot leave."

Ferb stretched out his hand and summoned the blaster. Yaami frowned.

"I'm not moving." Ferb sighed, and stretched out his hand again. Yaami realized what was happening. "No..no! Don't do that! I-if I get injured, the insurance premiums will eat my wallet-" Ferb made a 'pull' motion and Lieutenant Yaami was dragged into the whole. "-alliivveee!"

"You are in no condition to fly!" AZI said as shortly afterwards, as Ferb walked into the cargo hold. "Look at you."

"I'm fine." Ferb grumbled. "I'm fine." Ignoring the droid's continued protests, Ferb walked to the cockpit and collapsed into the captain's chair.

"Let's see here, I flip a switch and-"

The ship lifted up, jerked sharply to the right, and crashed into several stormtroopers who had come to the hangar bay as reinforcements.

"Okay then. Another button."

The ship flew up and slammed into the hangar bay. Several cameras that Doctor Tanmi had placed there to observe were destroyed, leaving the screens in his control center blank with static.

"No, no, shut up. I've got it now."

At last, the ship flew out of the hangar bay. Ferb banked above Tipoca City, flying straight up in a near-vertical line, a slope of one-over-point-five.

The light cruiser was hovering on the other side of the city, near the detention center Ferb had escaped from earlier. It was too far to accurately aim with its turbolasers in time, and no TIEs or Kaminoan ships pursued him.

As the ship broke through the atmosphere, Ferb laughed the first real laugh he had had in months.

---

"The interictor is down."

"Is the fleet ready?"

"Yes."

"How close is Organa's ship?"

"They're moving into formation with the rest of the fleet."

"Signal every ship." Draven said. "It's time the rebellion left the Armengoltiax Cluster."

---

The cork popped, and the drink inside-a vintage Corellian Red-bubbled to the top. Aimed ever so carefully, it splashed into the twin glasses.

Tanmi kept one for himself, and handed the other to the cloaked figure standing across from him on his apartment's balcony. The two were kept safe from Kamino's storms-which today seemed to rage more fiercely than usual-by a ray shield projected over them.

At last, he said; "I still think you took too huge a risk by coming here."

The hooded figure laughed. "I am fine. I am always fine." It rasped. Tanmi frowned at It, but said nothing. "The boy...the boy is free. Excellent." Tanmi did not comment. "Our plans are beginning to accelerate, to make up for time lost ages ago…"

"There is the matter of Heinz Doofenshmirtz." Tanmi said. "He was...injured by the events in the hangar bay. His aide's report indicated that a cybernetic eye will be required. A cyborg might not be...suited for our purposes."

The figure whirled on him. Somehow, It didn't spill any of the drink in Its glass. "Heinz Doofenshmirtz is the only candidate for the role. Do you remember how long his bloodline has been manipulated? Where his bloodline comes from? The Prophet tells me everything will play out so that Sith-" It spoke the word with some disgust "-fulfills his role and-"

"I understand." Tanmi interrupted. He knew the argument well. It was the same one he had had with himself every day since Darthenshmirtz had arrived on Kamino. He changed the topic. "How is our dear Prophet, by the way? I've been so busy being directly involved with things in my little corner of the galactic stage, I haven't had the time to-."

"Fine." the figure interrupted. "How are the platypus clones? Will they live up to your promises?"

Tanmi stared at his glass, swishing the red liquid around. "They will. The rebel agent provided as the template was better than our earliest, most hopeful projections ever could have dreamed of." The cloaked figure stepped back, Its hood flapping as it did so.

"Good." The figure held out Its glass, and Tanmi, recognising the gesture, reached his glass over. They clinked as they tapped each other.

"To our success." Tanmi said.

"To our success." The figure echoed. "Cheers."

They titled the glasses back and drank.