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Sivron looked at the stormtrooper captain and at the other three division leaders. The rest of the Maw scientists and stormtrooper contingents had taken refuge inside the prototype’s supply and control rooms.

“I have not had a chance to read the complete technical readouts of this battle-station prototype.” Tol Sivron looked around. “Does anyone know how to fly this vessel?”

Golanda looked at Doxin, who in turn looked at Yemm.

The stormtrooper captain said, “I have had some experience flying attack vehicles, sir. Perhaps I can interpret the controls.”

“Good, Captain,” Tol Sivron said. “Ummm …” He stood up from his command chair. “Do you need to sit here?”

“No need, sir. I can handle it from the pilot station.” The captain went over to a bolted-together row of controls.

“They must have detected Wermyn’s explosions,” Doxin said, watching the Rebel attack ships clustered around the reactor planetoid. Two more shuttles descended as teams were deployed down to the power station. The combined Rebel firepower would block all rescue attempts.

“Now, how are we supposed to get Wermyn?” Sivron said.

Yemm began to flip through the Emergency Procedures manual again. “I don’t think we addressed that contingency either.”

Tol Sivron’s head-tails thrashed in extreme annoyance. “That’s not very good, is it?” He scowled, trying to figure out how he could adapt on the spot. Twi’leks were good at adapting. Sivron had managed to adapt when he left his home planet of Ryloth; he had adapted when Moff Tarkin had assigned him as director of the think tank. Now he would adapt his plans again to make the best of a situation that was growing worse by the minute.

“All right, so there’s no time to rescue Wermyn. Change of plans. Our duty is to the Empire. We must take this Death Star prototype and make a rapid retreat.”

Wermyn himself had seen the Rebel strike teams coming down to retake the reactor planetoid, and he contacted Tol Sivron again with a more frantic tenor in his voice. “Director, what can I do to assist you? How are you planning to rescue us?”

Tol Sivron opened the channel and said in his gravest, most sincere voice, “Wermyn, I just want you to know how much I admire and respect you for your years of service. I regret that your retirement cannot be as long and as happy as I had hoped it would be. Once again, accept my appreciation. Thank you.”

He signed off, then turned to the stormtrooper captain. “We need to get out of here now.”

When the heaviest fighting began to die away, Qwi Xux shuttled down to the Installation with Wedge Antilles. Qwi saw the planetoids growing larger as they approached. She had spent most of her life down there, but she remembered little of it.

Other than the destruction of the first corvette, the New Republic fleet had suffered minimal losses. The Maw scientists had put up even less resistance than Wedge had feared. Qwi looked forward now to going through her old labs, eager to find her own files in hopes of answering some of her questions … but afraid to learn the answers.

Wedge reached over to hold her hand. “It’ll be fine. You’ll be a great help. Wait and see.”

She looked longingly at him with her large eyes. “I’ll do my best.” But something caught her attention, and she pointed quickly. “Look, Wedge! We’ve got to stop it.”

The Death Star prototype rose away from Maw Installation under its own power, glistening in the reflected light of the gas cloud.

“According to my own records, Maw Installation had a fully functional prototype,” Qwi said. “If they take that Death Star into New Republic space—”

Before she could complete her sentence, the gigantic sphere of the Death Star shot away toward the edge of the black hole cluster and vanished into the masking clouds of superhot gas.

9

Terpfen stood in the looming shadow of the Great Temple as Yavin’s early daylight increased, warming the jungles until mists rose in the air.

Paralyzed with fear in front of the towering, ancient