#ssd executor

FROM THE ASHES OF ENDOR

Chapter one

Darth Vader and Emperor Palpatine are dead. Veers is missing. And Piett has surrendered himself to the Rebels because he is operating on orders given to him by Lord Vader. The thing is, the only Rebel who will believe him and aide him is floating unconscious in bacta at the moment.

How did it go from this to this…

POV- you're an ensign on the SSD Executor. It's mostly white noise, soft typing and some beeping, along with inaudible whispers and footsteps, along with Darth Vader's breathing

“Princess,” Veers said, as they reached a less dense part of the forest. They were walking along a muddy ridge, and far below a small stream bubbled along. “I would like to speak with Admiral Piett. I am willing to work with you all, but I need to speak to him. And Commander Skywalker if I can.”

“That’s the thing, General,” the girl replied. “Admiral Piett isn’t here. But I intend to get him back.”

Veers stopped cold.

“What do you MEAN?” he snapped, uncaring that his ‘Iron General’ voice was on full display. “Where is he?”

“I will tell you,” she said, glancing anxiously back the way they’d come. “But I need to get you safe first. Please. I know you have no reason to trust me. But I am trying to help.”

Force damn everything.

“Help by losing the Admiral of Death Squadron?” he snarled. By this point Solo and Zev had also stopped and were looking back in concern. “You’re karking right I don’t trust you!”

The Princess narrowed her eyes and stepped up to him fearlessly, craning her neck to glare at him.

“Your Lady trusts me!” she flung back at him. “And I wish to get you aboard her, General. I wish I could have done things differently with the Admiral. But we don’t have time for recrimination now. I intend to retrieve him. We need to keep moving!”

He blinked.

Dad’s back was to him, sweat soaking a line up the center of his t-shirt as he welded the needed piece in place. Then he pushed up the goggles and turned to look at Zev.

“You want to do the honors?” he asked. Those grey eyes were serious, but Dad, accepted his hand to his feet.

“All right,” Zev said, trying to ignore the way his heart thundered in his chest. He trotted back to the cockpit and blew out a breath as he stared at the control board. The start up sequence was three buttons. Power down was one—the orange toggle to the left.

Life and death represented in those little pieces of plastic.

Zev nodded to himself and tapped the start up sequence.

Immediately the shuttle hummed into life, everything glowing about him and then—-

“Shut it off!” roared Dad, and Zev smelled acrid smoke.

He slammed his hand onto the control and immediately the ship went dark again. He stumbled back toward the hold where Dad knelt before the panel, swearing filthily as he ignored the burns on his hands in order to pull at a wire.

“What happened?” Zev asked breathlessly, nauseating dread filling his stomach.

“This wire fritzed and started melting the plasma casing,” Dad panted, using clippers to detach it from the part. “I don’t think it damaged the interior. But…”

He held up the burned wire.