"The transports are loaded, but any attempt at punching through their blockade will likely lead to heavy losses," General Dodonna announced to the congregated officers, all of them staring at the holo-map inside the command centre. "We don't have enough ships to disable both their Immobilizer and one of their destroyers. We would have to fly right through their turbolasers, because if we don't take out that Interdictor, no one makes it out…"
"Great," Solo grumbled at the back of the room, where he was nonchalantly leaning against the wall. "I should have taken my money and left… No Chewie, I do not think us being here is for the best."
Some more grumbling from the smuggler's Wookie companion was enough for everyone to guess that the great Chewbacca did not agree, but few of the gathered were actually able to understand him, and Leia most certainly was one of them.
"Still, it's the only chance we have," Cracken interjected solemnly. "Any kind of fleet capacity we still have left around the galaxy is either too small to be able to help or too far out. That is if we even reach them, with the Empire scrambling all comms…"
Even as the man said what he did, multiple pairs of eyes turned toward the princess; where she knew Harry would have been very uncomfortable with the sudden attention, she had been standing in the spotlight her entire life and simply accepted it.
"I have tried to reach him, but he did not pick up," she informed the officers, to their great dismay. "As far as I know, they were supposed to be storming an Imperial factory and mining complex to steal some kind of prototype fighter, resources and weapons. They were also trying to…"
She never finished what she was about to say, for in that very moment, the very mirror they had been talking about began vibrating in earnest. Within the blink of any eye, Leia had accepted the call and soon, the face of Harry Potter, still wearing his helmet, his mask dangling off to the side, appeared on the shiny surface.
"Hey, Harry…" the princess began, only to be immediately cut off.
"You have to get out of there," the young wizard's almost panicky voice sounded through the connection. "Vader is on his way to you, he must have found out about the base, somehow."
Overcoming being momentarily stunned by both his vehemence and that manic edge to his tone, Leia replied, "We know, although confirmation that Vader himself is coming is helpful. They have a blockade up that we don't have the resources to overcome."
"Then we're going to get underway, we can break through…"
Sweet as his concern was, she had to interrupt him. "Sorry, Harry, but they have six destroyers all around the system," Leia said earnestly. "The Lightbringer is a good ship, and most likely able to trump most pirates out there, but it won't hold its own against even one ISD. You'd be shot down in seconds."
"Well, there must be something we can do…" the captain's frustration was now clearly evident in his tone of voice.
"Unless you have some way of delivering a large enough ion payload to disable an Imperial Star Destroyer, there's nothing you can do, Captain Potter," General Dodonna interjected. "We'll have to make do with what we have and hope for the best. Our Y-Wings can take out their Interdictor to allow us a jump to hyperspace while the X-Wings hold the TIEs from the destroyer next to it at bay."
Unlike what she had expected to see, which would have been resignation and, though it possibly sounded somewhat vain, pain at her probable demise, there was now a gleam of hope in Harry's eyes.
"Let me get back to you on that," the wizard said jauntily, and before the link was cut, they could already hear him speaking into his commlink. "See if you can find ion warheads for those M14s. We'll need everything we can get."
OOOOOOOO
From the side of the nineteen kilometre long behemoth that was the Executor, proud flagship of the Imperial Navy, arose a comparatively tiny speck of white-grey; obviously, if one were to stand right in front of the Lambda-class shuttle, it would still tower above almost any sentient being, but relative to the star dreadnought the hangar of which it had just cleared, the ship seemed like an ant next to an elephant. As quickly as its engines could push, the small craft cleared the gravity well its mothership was stuck in while preparing for yet another jump to hyperspace and, taking the same route its much bigger relative was scheduled to, vanished into hyperspace.
The only being on board, besides a black astromech, was Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith. He could not tell, whether it was the burning hatred inside his reactor heart that was spurring him on, or whether it was indeed the Force that had given him a push, but somehow he knew that the Executor's arrival would be too late for what he really wanted to achieve: the destruction of the Alliance.
This last vestige of chaos inside the New Order, his New Order… His Master's New Order.
For now, for with the Rebellion he hoped to find the young man who, now months prior, had so easily thrown off his attack on the Death Star. Starkiller had been a failure, as much had to be admitted, despite his massive potential; his training had taken too long and drawn the attention of the Emperor, making the boy useless as a 'secret' weapon.
The one he had met in that hangar, though…
That one already had power unlike anything Vader had ever seen before. While a strong Jedi might have been able to shield against his attack, the ability to so easily reflect it back was unheard of.
With an almost scared series of beeps, the black R2 unit informed the Sith lord they had reached the edge of the gravity well, so with a burning desire to find what he would need to finally take what he had paid so much for to achieve, Darth Vader pulled the lever activating the hyperdrive and starlines filled the viewport.
OOOOOOOO
"The Rebel base is in trouble," Harry announced, even as he and Arden stepped through the somewhat sizzled door of the command centre. "They have a blockade in the system they don't really know how to punch through and Vader on the way there with who knows what kind of invasion force. Have the teams found any ammunition for those fighters?"
Iabaes, who was still working on deactivating the implants of all the slaves inside the facility, looked at him dubiously. "How would one squadron of fighters, great as these ships might be, be able to turn the tide of an entire battle?"
"It wouldn't," the wizard agreed readily. "Doesn't need to, either; we just have to disable one single destroyer long enough for the Alliance to make a run for it, while their Y-Wings take out their interdictor."
"Uh, Boss…" Corsek interjected, "Not to be all pessimistic, but we'll be shot to pieces if we show up there with the Lightbringer."
"Then we don't," Harry responded quickly. "Those fighters have hyperdrives, right? We park the Lightbringer in a neighbouring system, put our own astromechs inside the M14s, do our thing and then rendezvous somewhere else."
"Still, those sound like steep odds…" the former Imperial began once again but was quickly cut off by his boss.
"I won't force you to join me," he declared harshly, even as he tried to control his temper by breathing deeply. "I can't just give her… I mean them up. I can't lose someone else…"
Suddenly deeply exhausted, Harry sank down onto the commander's chair, his breath coming in a cadence that made it seem almost like hyperventilating. He simply could not stomach the idea of someone else close to him dying, not if there was even the slightest chance of him doing something against it. And as far as he was concerned, knowing about the potency of ion weaponry, there was more than just a slight chance.
"Alright, Boss," Corsek said, visibly forcing himself to calm down as well. "I didn't mean it like that; I'm no starfighter pilot, anyway, so I wouldn't be any help. It seems like we've enough volunteers as is, though."
Unnoticed during Harry's small emotional breakdown, from the by-now enormous group of rescued slaves, who against their earlier orders had congregated in and around the command centre of the facility, at least thirty had stepped to the front, proudly standing at the ready.
"You know this will be dangerous, right?" the wizard asked them, deeply touched by their willingness to sacrifice, even after what they had just heard. "There's a good chance people are going to die in this."
In all their eyes Harry could see nothing but conviction and a burning hunger for revenge against their oppressors.
OOOOOOOO
Around him, people were bustling about, from one end of the hangar to the other, from transport to transport and from depot to fighter craft.
The secret factory's massive main hangar had, to everyone's delight, housed not only a number of transports, which the slaves would be using to escape, but also an ammunitions depot for the various kinds of warships, many of them looking like they were far from standard. Pride of place at the side wall held a group of red-tinged fighters.
These vessels had a certain intimidating factor to them, though Harry found the exact reason for that hard to place; the red colour, which Iabaes had informed him stemmed from the havod alloy used in their construction, certainly contributed, but the entire craft had the feeling of a predator to it. Now, it was not all that large by any definition one could use, merely measuring around the same length as an X-wing, and maybe half as wide, but the sharp lines bristling with weapons told their own story. Having seen the ships' cockpits from inside, he was convinced he could easily fly one, considering how much it seemed like they were designed to be friendly to the user, and it was also very much understood that he would.
Still, all the hustle and bustle going on around him did not permeate Harry's senses all that much, given how riveted he was onto the worried face of the young woman inside his mirror.
"How long would that take?" Leia sked, having listened to his description of their plan to ride to the rescue in their newly acquired fighters. "And please don't throw your life away if you don't think there's a chance it will lead to anything."
For someone with a 'saving people thing' though, the situation was just too tempting. "Don't worry," Harry tried to project all the optimism he could. "We're going to be ready in just a few hours, then around a day of travel time. The Imps won't know what hit them."
Truthfully, he was not feeling even half as hopeful as he portrayed himself to be, possibly for his own benefit the most of all. Yes, from everything he had heard, these Imperial Star Destroyers were incredibly vulnerable to small fighter craft who somehow managed enough of a punch to annoy the interstellar behemoths; still, they also had dozens of TIE fighters of their own, not to mention what kind of escort the Empire might have sent along in smaller, more nimble ships. Yet, he was committed to at least trying, for in his mind, there remained a good enough chance of success.
"Hey, you still there?" his musings were interrupted by the one he had been talking to. Harry shook his head to get rid of his troubled thoughts before he looked at her intently.
"Yeah, just… thinking," he said distractedly, still thinking over their tactics for the ridiculously disparate battle they were about to face. "Hey, could the people from the base take out that destroyer you need out of the way? It's closer to the moon than the interdictor, right?"
"I'll have to ask…" Leia responded, even as the background of their mirror call began shifting with her movement. "General Dodonna, a moment please…"
"Yes, what is it?" the (to Harry) non-visible officer snapped, the stress of his situation quite obviously getting to him. "Sorry, please, go on."
"Captain Potter wanted to talk to you," the princess informed the man primly, as if somewhat pissed off after being unduly snapped at. Nevertheless, she rotated the mirror (and if that was not a weird sight) and handed it over.
"Captain Potter, what is the matter?"
Seeing the normally dignified general this haggard was certainly worrying, as far as Harry was concerned. Dodonna had bags under his eyes that bespoke the lack of sleep the evacuation and the blockade had exacted on him, while his tone was graver than ever before.
"Do you think your fighters could take out the ISD that's blocking your evacuation route?" the wizard inquired hopefully; if this worked, things might just work out as a whole, too. "As I understand it, it blocks approach to the enemy Immobiliser cruiser. Our current target allocation would have my people fly past the interdictor to attack the destroyer while yours would have to fly past the ISD to get to the interdictor."
Visibly pondering what he had been told, and probably mentally slapping himself over the head for not thinking of it himself, Dodonna hummed a little, deeply in thought.
"We should be able to do that," he finally analysed glumly. "We would lose some fighters, but it would not be the first time a wave of Y-wings disables a capital ship. You'd still have to contend with that interdictor's defence grid, though."
"Wouldn't worry about that all too much," Harry reassured with a chuckle. "I have some Mandalorians very unhappy with the Empire willing to help out, and I hear they're excellent pilots."
OOOOOOOO
Space around the gas giant Yavin still seemed as empty as space had a tendency to do, despite the veritable armada gathered around the Rebel Alliance's base, for what was a ship of 1600 metres compared to the vast emptiness of the void? What were six of them and a few even smaller ones?
Truly, a competent military commander would have been appalled by the lack of support ships, especially with the traitors' propensity for using starfighters, but the only ship that really mattered, the interdictor, was well protected; not even the Rebels would fly past an ISD to attack another ship, it was simply suicidal. And it was a simple fact that, with the destruction of Alderaan and the subsequent loss of Tarkin's pet project, unrest all over the Empire needed quelling; even gathering what he had managed to had incurred the wrath of several local moffs who feared their positions being weakened due to a loss of fleet capacity, while system after system went into open rebellion.
For the moment though, things seemed peaceful, and no one accosted the Dark Lord of the Sith on his approach to the location of the Alliance base where he hoped to be able to find his quarry…
Yes, with that young man on his side, he might finally be able to overthrow his own Master once and for all, take his rightful place in the galaxy.
Finally destroy the shadow that had become everything to him, after destroying everything else.
A group of TIE fighters on combat patrol appeared on his scanners, and by their changed trajectory it was obvious they had spotted him, too. Moments later, it became equally as obvious that they had received his transponder codes, as the squadron of twelve vessels veered off, unwilling to interrupt the Supreme Commander in his personal mission. As Vader slowly dropped through the clouds, a presence washed over him that incited an incredible rage inside, burning hotter than even the black flames usually smouldering in his heart.
"Kenobi," he tried to snarl, yet only the mechanical sound of the vocabulator came out. How fitting that, on the day would finally find the way to overcome his Sith Master, he would have the long-awaited chance to kill his Jedi master.
It seemed the Force really was with him on that day.
OOOOOOOO
Having spent several hours inside the rather cramped confines of the M14-X experimental starfighter, not to mention having peed inside a bottle (and the less mentioned of other bodily functions, the better), Harry Potter was not in what one could call a cheery kind of mood. Still, to say he was not keyed up and raring to go would have been wrong, as well. For despite the obvious problems associated with their method of travel, one thing could be said for certain: flying was incredible fun.
At each hyperlane intersection where they had had to drop from hyperspace, cross a gravity well and then reengage the hyperdrive, the small, thrown-together squadron of fighters had engaged in a number of simple manoeuvres, just for everyone to get a feeling for their ships. As far as he could tell, they were excellent, and very user-friendly, too, which someone like him certainly appreciated. One of the Mandalorian volunteers had even shown him how to dial down the inertial dampeners a bit to let him feel the effects of acceleration and give him a bit more of a feeling on how his craft moved.
It had immediately felt more like flying on a broom, while the practice shots some members of his squadron had tried to hit him with had started simply feeling like bludgers. Being hit would be a bit more… permanent, but the concept was certainly related. And it was not like a broom had energy shields, so there was some survivability added for this tin-can that was his only protection from the infinite void.
Even the comparatively boring time spent alone inside the cockpit, stuck in hyperspace along the way to Yavin had been productive, though it had led to him wanting to kick himself in the shin; he had originally dismissed the possibility of applying runic enchantments to the ordinance storage for the launchers included in the fighters, because, he had reasoned, simply coming up with the energy needed to permanently conjure an ion or proton torpedo would be a huge problem. Around an hour into the trip Harry had realised that, if you wanted something to simply explode, after which the job would be done, there was little point to permanently conjuring it.
While it was true that applying these modifications would have taken more time than they had, he could not help but feel annoyed that he had only thought of it when the opportunity had already passed.
On the small panel dedicated to translating the binary of his fighter's astromechs a few lines of script appeared. Luckily, there had been a way to make the computers use what this galaxy coined the High Galactic alphabet, which for some undefinable reason was exactly the same as the one he had learned at home. At one point, that might warrant investigation, but for the moment, he had other worries.
"Yes, thanks," Harry told the droid, who had just informed him they would soon be arriving at their destination. With a heartening sigh, the young man who never in his life had considered a career as a fighter pilot, pulled out his communication mirror and spoke at it, "Leia Organa."
Only seconds passed until the momentarily joyful face of the Alderaanian princess, her beauty only slightly marred by worry and lack of sleep yet enhanced by the sheer determination shining on her face, appeared on the reflective surface. "Harry," she greeted in a mix of trepidation and relief. "Please tell me you're close; I don't know, how much longer I can hold back the evacuation. The longer we wait, the closer Vader gets."
"Don't worry, that's why I'm calling," the wizard replied jauntily, although he did not really feel like it. "R3 tells me we're… exactly twenty minutes out."
"I'll tell everyone to get ready," she replied, looking deeply troubled. "A few of the Alderaanian survivors have volunteered to stay behind and blow up the base with as many Imperials inside as they can."
Although not really sure how, Harry knew she wanted no real answer, that this was more of a case of letting someone know what she was worried about.
"And Harry…"
"Yes?"
"Be careful."
Without another word, the communication was cut, leaving the young wizard, defeater of dark lords, pilot, bounty hunter and captain (he had done quite a lot for someone so young, he decided) to stew in his own thoughts as he raced through the blue tunnel of hyperspace, time stretching as seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours. After this was over, some recreation would be advisable, some shore leave for his crew, maybe an opportunity to teach Arden and Leia about magic.
He very much enjoyed teaching, after all.
Still, even the longest of waits had to be over at some points, and without much warning, the peaceful, hypnotic blue of hyperspace was replaced by the stark blackness of realspace, its expanse only interrupted by the swirling orange of the gas giant Yavin, the lush green of its fourth moon and the two ships belonging to the blockade that were actually visible. Closer to him and his squadron, and yet dwarfed still by the sheer bulk of its larger escort, sat the smaller shape of an Immobiliser-418, the sleek lines interrupted by four massive gravity-well generators, the same ones that had just pulled him out of hyperspace. Behind it in the distance loomed the shape of an Imperial Star Destroyer, the flickering green lights of its turbolasers belying the seeming calm of space.
"Dawn Squadron, you there?" Harry asked his pilots, their impromptu group named in the same vein as his other vessels had been: the edge of light after a period of darkness. He liked the symbolism behind it.
"Dawn two, ready and eager."
"Dawn twelve, standing by."
"Dawn five, all clear."
"Dawn three, all clear."
"Dawn four, standing by."
"Dawn six, standing by."
"Dawn nine, ready."
"Dawn eleven, all clear."
"Dawn eight, all clear."
"Dawn seven, I can hardly wait."
Had he had more time, Harry would have worried about Dawn Seven's tone of voice, the mixture of fatalism and pure loathing, burning anger in her voice plain to hear. Yet, given their situation, it would have to be postponed.
"Dawn seven through twelve, keep back and take care of the fighters," he ordered over the commlink, noting happily that the various pilots immediately acknowledged their assignments via the communications interface. "Dawn two through six, you're with me. Make ready to hit them with your ion weapons."
Again, confirmations began rolling in, and for the first time, he began feeling confident that this would work. The interdictor, clearly surprised by their sudden arrival and already on the back foot due to the Alliance's attack on the destroyer providing their protection, was not in any state to offer meaningful resistance as they closed in. The weaving targets that their small, nimble fighters provided were obviously not what the gunners were used to, and even the few stray shots that actually managed to hit were held back bay the shields.
"I got one on my back," Dawn Nine announced, surprisingly cool under the pressure of being pelted with shots from a TIE's laser cannons. "Make that two; my shields can't hold out much longer."
In his periphery view, Harry could see the dogfight going on, the red-hued M14 nimbly dodging around in front of the Imperial fighters, yet never able to shake off its two shadows either. Nowhere let it be said the Empire did not train its pilots well.
"Just a moment," Dawn Eleven's voice rang through the channel, just before the two pursuers went up into surprisingly large balls of flame, given that they were in space. Probably something internal getting out, the wizard assumed. "You're welcome."
"Dawn Squadron, this is Red Leader," a gentle male voice rang through the channel. "Nice of you to join us. We'll have approach to the destroyer cleared momentarily, so the Y-wings can go in."
"Red Leader, this is Dawn Leader," Harry replied, happy that things were actually going well. "We're on final approach to the interdictor…"
However, he was interrupted before he could finish. "This is Red Leader," the same voice returned. "The destroyer launched a group of bombers; they're headed for our convoy. We can't break off with these TIEs still around."
Internally cursing, the wizard was once again ready to kick himself in the shin. Of course, he had to think things were going well; that was always when things started going bad.
"Understood, Red Leader," he replied, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone. "Dawn Seven through Twelve, take care of those bombers, then help with the destroyer. We'll manage without you."
It was true, after a fashion; the excellent piloting of the Mandalorians, though somewhat lacking in teamwork due to the relative novelty of flying together in this particular group, had left few enemies still around the interdictor cruiser, with only a handful of the crafts Harry himself had once called 'whiney flying things' still actually doing exactly that. Once again, the confirmations started rolling along the screen of his comms unit and the newly minted starfighter pilot allowed himself another smile, as he and Dawn Two through Six released a volley of ion torpedoes at their target.
In moments, the imposing craft was dead in the water, so to speak.