The battle had turned, and not in their favor.
What had begun as a daring ambush— timed and executed with desperation—was now collapsing into chaos. The rebel formation, once tight and purposeful, was breaking apart under relentless pressure. Imperial ships moved with cold discipline, their formations tightening as they pressed the advantage, cutting through the scattered resistance with brutal efficiency.
"Fall back! Fall back!" The comms were filled with overlapping voices, strained and desperate, each trying to be heard over the roar of explosions and the crackle of failing systems. One transmission bled into another, warnings turning into screams as ships vanished from sensors without even leaving debris behind.
Inside the chaos, Sebul's TIE fighter tore through space, its damaged hull sparking violently as another shot grazed its side. Warning alarms blared continuously, the cockpit flashing red as system after system failed.
"Shields are gone!" he barked, fighting the controls as the fighter shuddered beneath him. "This thing's barely holding together!"
Blaster fire streaked past, so close it lit the cockpit in flashes of white. Ahead of him, a rebel fighter exploded in a silent bloom of fire, its pilot lost before anyone could even call out.
"Return to the ship," came the steady voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi through the comm, calm despite the chaos. His own fighter veered sharply as he avoided a barrage that would have torn him apart moments earlier. "I am already on my way."
"We're losing too many!" Quinlan's voice cut in, tense but controlled, though the strain beneath it was impossible to miss.
One by one, the surviving fighters began to retreat, limping back toward their main ship. Docking maneuvers were rushed and imperfect, ships slamming into place as clamps locked onto damaged hulls. Inside the hangar, the sound of grinding metal and sparking circuits filled the air. Pilots stumbled out of their cockpits, some bleeding, others shaking, all of them breathing hard as they processed just how close they had come to dying.
Sebul brought his fighter in hard, the landing jarring enough to rattle his bones. He didn't wait for the engines to power down before jumping out, pulling off his helmet as he scanned the hangar.
"Ship's still intact?" he shouted.
Quinlan glanced back from the cockpit of the main vessel, his expression grim. "Barely," he replied. "Your turn."
Sebul didn't waste another second. He rushed forward, sliding into the pilot's seat with practiced ease. "Move."
Quinlan stepped aside with a faint smirk that didn't quite hide his exhaustion. "Try not to get us killed."
Sebul's hands tightened around the controls as the engines roared to life. "No promises."
The ship surged forward, launching back into the battle—not as a hidden predator this time, but as a warship forced into the open. Debris filled the void around them, shattered fragments of ships drifting like the remnants of broken dreams. Sebul weaved through it all, narrowly avoiding incoming fire as he lined up his target.
"Targeting escorts," he said, his voice sharp now, focused.
The weapons fired.
Massive plasma bolts, enhanced by Harry's magic, tore through space and slammed into one of the Imperial escort ships. Its shields flared violently, flickering under the unnatural energy before collapsing entirely. The next volley ripped it apart, the ship breaking into fragments that scattered in all directions.
"Got one!" Sebul shouted, a fierce grin crossing his face.
But the moment of victory was short-lived. For every ship they destroyed, more remained, pressing in from all sides. At the center of it all loomed the massive transport vessel, untouched and untouchable, its defenses layered so thickly that no attack had even come close to reaching it.
"We cannot reach it like this," Obi-Wan said quietly, watching the tactical display, his expression tightening.
Quinlan exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on the unfolding disaster. "And we're running out of time."
Across the battlefield, Berch Teller's fleet was collapsing. Ships burned as they drifted out of formation, pilots ejecting into the void while others were caught in explosions they never saw coming. The carefully planned assault was unraveling faster than anyone had anticipated.
"They're getting slaughtered," Sebul muttered under his breath.
Inside the ship, Harry stood in silence.
He watched everything—the flashes of destruction, the slow erosion of hope—but more than that, he felt it. The fear, the desperation, the creeping certainty of defeat that was spreading through every rebel pilot still alive.
Berch Teller's face appeared through the mirror channel, his expression hard and resolute. Static crackled around his image as he spoke.
"We're pulling out. I repeat—this is a retreat."
Quinlan's hand struck the console lightly, frustration flashing across his face. "Damn it…"
"We've lost six ships," Berch continued. "We can't sustain this." There was a brief pause before he delivered the final blow. "Mission is a failure."
The words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.
Harry didn't move.
For a moment, he simply stood there, silent and still, as if weighing something far beyond the battle itself. Then he turned.
"No."
Obi-Wan looked at him sharply. "Harry—"
But Harry was already gone.
A sharp crack echoed through the ship as the air displaced, and in the next instant, Harry stood atop the hull in the vacuum of space. There was no armor protecting him, no visible shield—only the faint shimmer of an enchantment across his face as he breathed where no human should have been able to.
Below him, the battle raged on.
Harry raised his hand.
And something answered.
Inside the cockpit, alarms flared wildly as Sebul stared at the readings. "What is he doing?!" he shouted.
Quinlan rushed to the viewport, then stopped abruptly, his breath catching. "…Oh."
Obi-Wan stepped beside him, and for the first time, his composure faltered.
Lightning tore across space.
It was not the controlled energy of the Force, nor the jagged fury of Sith lightning. This was something greater—vast, ancient, and utterly unnatural. It erupted from Harry's outstretched hand in blinding brilliance, striking one Imperial ship and erasing it entirely. Another followed, then a third, each one torn apart as if it were nothing more than fragile glass.
"What in the—" Sebul whispered, his voice barely audible.
For a brief moment, the battlefield seemed to hesitate. Even the Imperials faltered, their perfect formations breaking as confusion spread through their ranks.
On the hull, Harry stood like a storm given form, his eyes glowing faintly as he raised his arm higher.
Then he unleashed it fully.
A torrent of lightning erupted from him, not a single bolt but an entire storm, cascading across space in a relentless wave of destruction. It slammed into the massive transport vessel, its shields flaring as they struggled to hold against the impossible force.
"No way…" Quinlan breathed.
The storm intensified, feeding on itself as it broke through layer after layer of defense. The great ship trembled, its systems overloading as explosions rippled across its surface.
And then, just as suddenly as it began, the lightning stopped.
Harry's lips moved, his voice barely audible even in the vacuum.
"Fiendfyre."
The flames that erupted were not fire as anyone understood it. They were alive—twisting, writhing, taking the shapes of serpents and beasts as they devoured everything they touched. Metal melted, structure collapsed, and the cursed fire spread impossibly fast, consuming the massive vessel in seconds.
The ship burned like a star in the darkness, its light rivaling even the distant glow of Tatooine.
The great ship collapsed inward before exploding outward in a final, devastating blast, leaving nothing behind.
For a single second, silence fell across the battlefield.
Rebels and Imperials alike stared at the empty space where the ship had once been.
Then Harry vanished.
He reappeared inside the cockpit, calm and untouched, as if he had never left.
Sebul stared at him, wide-eyed. "…You are not sith?."
Harry didn't react. His gaze shifted to the navigation panel. "The mission is complete. Jump."
Obi-Wan hesitated only briefly before nodding. "Do it."
Sebul grinned, something wild and exhilarated in his expression. "With pleasure."
The ship surged forward, coordinates locking into place as the stars stretched into lines of light. In a flash, they were gone.
Bogano had never looked busier.
The moment the ship exited hyperspace and descended through the thickening atmosphere, the quiet clearing below came alive with movement. What had once been a hidden refuge was now something far more significant. Six massive Imperial escort vessels stood across the landscape, their towering forms cutting into the horizon like fallen giants. Even from above, the scale of what had been brought back was impossible to ignore.
Sebul was the first to speak as the ramp lowered and warm air rushed into the ship. He stepped down slowly, his eyes moving from one vessel to another, disbelief written plainly across his face.
"Six…?" he muttered, as if saying it aloud might somehow make it less absurd. Then, louder, almost incredulous, "Six ships."
Quinlan followed behind him, letting out a low whistle as he took in the sight. "You went for one mission…" he said dryly, shaking his head as a grin tugged at his lips, "…and you start a fleet."
The camp below had already erupted into motion. Children ran between the ships, their excitement unrestrained as they circled the massive structures, pointing and shouting to one another.
Luke reached them first, practically skidding to a stop in front of Harry, his eyes wide with amazement. "You actually did it!" he said, his voice filled with something close to reverence.
Friga arrived just behind him, staring up at one of the ships as though it might suddenly move. "They're huge," she breathed.
Krigo walked slower, more cautious, his hands hovering just above the cold metal of a nearby hull without quite touching it. "These were Imperial ships," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Actual Imperial ships…"
Lokans didn't speak at first. He simply looked at Harry, his expression caught somewhere between awe and disbelief. When he finally found his voice, it carried a question that everyone else seemed to be thinking. "How many did you take during the fight?"
Harry's answer was simple, almost dismissive. "Enough."
A short distance away, Yoda stood with Dobby and Winky, watching the scene unfold in silence. The small Jedi Master's ears twitched slightly as his gaze lingered on the ships, then shifted toward Harry.
"Powerful… this one is," Yoda murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.
Dobby, on the other hand, made no effort to contain his excitement. "Master Harry is the strongest there is!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "Dobby knew Master Harry would win!"
Winky shook her head fondly, wiping her hands against her apron as she observed the growing chaos around them. "Winning is good," she said, her tone practical as always, "but now much work is there."
She was right.
The ships were not empty.
Sebul was the first to step inside one of the escort vessels, his earlier enthusiasm fading the moment he crossed the threshold. He stopped abruptly, his expression tightening as he took in the interior.
"…Yeah," he said quietly, "…that's going to be a problem."
Inside, the aftermath of the battle was unmistakable. Clone troopers lay where they had fallen, alongside dismantled droids and the remnants of a fight that had ended too quickly for any resistance to matter.
Quinlan stepped in behind him and exhaled slowly, his usual humor absent for once. "Not exactly ready for use," he said.
At the entrance, Obi-Wan stood still, his gaze sweeping across the scene with quiet solemnity. "We give them proper rites," he said at last.
Harry, who had followed them in, nodded once. "Agreed."
The work began soon after.
A controlled area was prepared at a distance from the main camp, far enough that the children would not be overwhelmed, yet close enough that the task could be carried out with care. When everything was ready, Harry stepped forward and raised his hand. A flame ignited at his command.
"Bring them here," he said.
One by one, the bodies were carried from the ships. Each fallen soldier was laid down with care before the flame took them, consuming everything without smoke or ash. The fire left nothing behind. It was clean, complete, and silent.
Even the children helped, though their earlier excitement had faded into something quieter, more reflective. The reality of what those ships represented had settled in.
Luke was the last to step forward. He placed the final body down and lingered there for a moment before looking up at Harry.
"They were enemies," he said, as if trying to convince himself.
Harry met his gaze. "Yes."
Luke hesitated, his brow furrowing. "But they were still people."
Harry didn't answer immediately. His eyes lingered on the fading flame before he finally spoke.
"That's why we don't celebrate this part."
Luke nodded slowly, the weight of that answer settling into him.
Back at the ships, Sebul had already returned to work. Panels were open, systems exposed, and tools scattered around him as he moved with focused intensity. His small droid worked beside him tirelessly, its mechanical chirps and clicks filling the otherwise quiet air.
"Rollo, reroute power to the forward systems," Sebul said without looking up.
The droid responded with a series of beeps.
"Yeah, I see that—fix it," Sebul muttered, adjusting a panel.
Quinlan leaned against the hull nearby, watching with mild amusement. "You really love this, don't you?" he asked.
Sebul glanced up briefly, a grin spreading across his face before he returned to his work. "This?" he said, tapping the side of the ship. "This is freedom."
The atmosphere gradually shifted again. The shock of battle gave way to something steadier—work, purpose, and the quiet beginnings of growth.
Then the mirror activated.
A soft glow spread across its surface, drawing everyone's attention. Conversations stilled as the image formed, and Berch Teller appeared once more.
This time, he was smiling.
"We did it," he said, his voice carrying both relief and disbelief.
Quinlan smirked faintly. "Told you we'd make it interesting."
Berch shook his head. "You didn't just make it interesting," he replied. "You changed everything."
His gaze shifted to Harry, and for a brief moment, his expression softened. "For a moment, I thought we lost."
Then it changed.
Something more cautious crept in.
"There's something else."
Obi-Wan stepped forward slightly. "What is it?"
Berch hesitated before answering. "We have eyes and ears inside the Empire."
Harry's gaze sharpened. "And?"
Berch exhaled slowly. "They don't think this was a rebel attack."
Quinlan frowned. "Then what?"
Birch's answer came carefully. "They think it was a Sith."
The word settled heavily over the group.
Yoda's eyes narrowed slightly.
"They have recordings," Berch continued. "Footage from the escort ships before they lost control. A hooded figure. A red lightsaber. Cutting through troopers."
"They also have testimonies. Surviving troopers. Massive force lightning. Not like anything they've seen before."
Obi-Wan's expression tightened.
Berch hesitated, then continued, his voice lowering. "Stronger than anything in their records. Even stronger than… Sidious."
Even the children felt the shift.
"They believe a rival Sith Lord has emerged," Berch said. "One powerful enough to challenge the Emperor."
A long silence followed.
Quinlan broke it with a mutter. "Well… that's one way to stay hidden."
But Birch didn't smile. His gaze remained fixed on Harry. "And that's not all," he said.
Harry didn't move. "Say it."
"There are doubts," Berch said.
Now everyone was listening.
"Among the rebels," he continued. "They're asking… if you're really on our side."
"They think you might be using us," Berch went on. "To weaken the Empire. To destroy the Emperor. And then…" He paused, but only briefly. "…take his place."
All eyes turned to Harry.
Harry stood still, his expression unchanged. Then he spoke.
"I don't want a throne."
There was no anger in his voice.
He paused, then added, his voice carrying a faint, dangerous edge, "And if they think I'm a Sith… That's not my problem."
Quinlan smirked slightly, but Obi-Wan studied Harry more closely. Yoda closed his eyes briefly.
"Clouded… the path is," he murmured.
Berch watched in silence for a moment longer, then nodded once. "…Understood."
The mirror dimmed, and the connection faded.
Author's Note:
Enjoying the story?
Consider joining my Pat*reon to get early access to more chapters and exclusive fanfictions! Even as a free member you will get one extra chapter and you'll receive early access to chapters before they're posted elsewhere and various other fanfictions.Your support helps me create more content for you to enjoy!
Join here: Patre*on(dot)com(slash)Beuwulf