《Planet-Eater Reincarnation (in Star Wars)》Chapter 70, Popcorn

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I know it might have been naive of me to wish for a simple, deathless event. I know it was silly of me to want nobody to die in a battle such as this. I know I did my best to avoid anything horrible happening.

But did it have to go so wrong so quickly?

The planet is a simple one, according to Typhin. Sometimes, some planets only really have one biome all across the whole planet. This isn’t true all the time, and far from all systems have such planets, but this planet appeared to be one such planet according to a rudimentary analysis one of our technicians conducted the second we got close enough.

Now that I’m really thinking about it, without technicians, you’re kinda dead, huh?

I mean, without a technician, Erte and the pirates would’ve been able to realize we were tracking and wiretapping them. If that had happened, they could easily have done something about it, maybe even escaping us and keeping the rebel base location to themselves. But since they had no technicians and we’ve got plenty, things ended up this way instead.

But back to the matter of the rebel base!

From what we can see so far, it apparently orbits a small blue dwarf star, leaving it in a pretty stable position. I think. According to what people are saying around me.

Really, right now I’m more of a listening device than an actual human. People say stuff and I just absorb it.

If the rebel base planet was any further from the star it would totally be frozen over, but since it’s at a good position, it instead has a rich, dense ecosystem, filled with large lake lakes and massive, all-encompassing savannahs. I know I should feel more anxous about the upcoming battle, but more than anything, I just feel amazed at how well these people can judge a planet that looks like a white dot at best. Oh, that’s another thing - apparently it’s covered in constant clouds? Like, thousands of meters of clouds.

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But it barely rains, so I have no idea how any of the flora and fauna these technicians is describing can actually survive. Well, that’s the magic of space, I guess. Maybe.

As I stand here lost in thought, the comm buzzes to life. “This is Starshine reporting, requesting permission to drop off.”

Oh, yeah if they get too close they’ll get totally blasted, right? Well, then I guess-,

“Permission denied,” Typhin states flatly.

Huh?

“What?” Erte says. “Uh, sorry sir, but… Any closer and we’ll be made targets. The rebels have surely already determined our position, so-,”

“Permission denied, captain. We are perfectly aware of their positions and their speeds. You have nothing to worry about. Furthermore, we still require your more exact coordinates. Would you rather be chased by rebels for the rest of your life?” I find myself staring blankly at Typhin. “You must understand that unless this base is wiped out this very day; nay, this hour, then they will surely hunt you for as long as they can, all to assure you will not spread your knowledge?”

A few seconds of silence pass. “Well, by all means, you’re right, but… We have wounded aboard, if a fight were to break out-,”

“No such thing will happen. Do you truly believe the Empire to be so incompetent that we can’t protect a single ship from harm?”

“...Very well. Starshine, out.”

I find myself staring out of the cockpit for a few seconds. Something about that conversation felt off.

I glance up at Typhin. Yeah, no, I can’t read his expression in the least. He’s wearing the perfect poker face.

But if I instead look outside again, I can clearly see how the cloudy planet grows nearer. Then, as I’m looking at it, I only barely notice how the clouds burst, momentarily opening up to show a green gem beneath. Small ships explode through these openings, whizzing through the black void of space like metal dragonflies.

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“Rebel starfighters sighted. Four counted,” one of the technicians says.

Then, as these starfighters grow near at an impressive rate, the comm buzzes to life once more. “Requesting permission to retreat,” Erte says in a voice that heavily suggests rising panic. Not that I feel any different.

“Permission denied, stay on course,” Typhin replies evenly.

Erte gives no answer. One of the technicians reports that the connection was cut, though, looking at the pirate ship’s course, he’s holding steady. I’m not sure if that’s a wise decision, but then again, at the moment, I feel much more afraid regarding the possibility of our ship getting shot down.

Within what feels like mere seconds, the starfighters are about us, flying in erratic, unpredictable lines. Trying to keep track of any single one of them is next to impossible.

“The other ships are requesting permission to fire.”

“Permission denied,” Typhin says, apparently intent on getting us all killed. Then, surprisingly, he smirks. “Tell them to wait for the start signal.”

Wh-, “What start signal?” I ask, unable to keep my mouth shut any longer.

He just looks at me. And for the first time in days, I can’t tell if I actually know this man or not.

Once again, the comm buzzes. Erte’s hysteric voice cuts through the static, “Commander Typhin, we-,”

And then it cuts off. And for a second I can’t tell why, until I look outside the window to see the pretty white firework.

“Huh?”

As I’m looking at it, it’s like my brain can’t visually comprehend what I’m supposed to be looking at. It’s like a massive popcorn out in space, but it’s completely silent, and as I’m looking at it, it suddenly blinks out of existence, as though swallowing itself. Leaving nothing but scrap behind. I blink slowly. “Huh? Huh?”

And then the rest of it begins. With the start signal fired, the black void outside now grows alive and bustling with green and red streaks of light, each weaving between each other, flying here and there. A silent white pop erupts outside, and for one horrifying second, it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.

Red lasers meet nothing but apathetic barriers. Green lasers find dragonfly targets. Pop, pop. One after the other. Soon it’s just our ships out here in space, surrounded by silence and wreckage. My hand’s trembling. It feels like I swallowed a cold viper.

“Advance on the base,” Typhin orders cooly.

When I turn to look at him, I see neither a friend nor an ally, but only a man who has ordered the deaths of dozens. Maybe more.

Erte… He’s dead, isn’t he? I saw him die. That white pop. And still, it’s like it never happened at all. One minute I heard his voice and I saw his ship, and the next… It feels as though if I only squinted my eyes, I could see him somewhere out there. Him and his ship, far away, as though they escaped. But there’s nothing out there.

Not a single soul.

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