It was the night before battle, and all through the base, not a creature with stirring out here in deep space. The at-ats were lying, all snug in their bays, dreaming of crushed rebels in the upcoming days. When out on the forest moon there arose such a clatter. I warmed up the main weapon, it's fueled by a hybromatter. Away to my throne room I ran with a dash, ripped open the Duristial shutters with a force slash. Endor's light left the metal girders a glow, and gave the light of midday to the slave work crews below. When suddenly I saw faster than force lightening's, a Corellian freighter, in formation with eight X-wings. It flew so casually beneath those ferd four paws. I knew it once, it could only be wookie claws. More rapid than Thai interceptors, his escorts they came, and he jinked, then broadcast, and commanded them by name. Just as my Sith apprentices, towards filthy Jedi, love to run, these fighters rolled to avoid explosions even looked to have fun, down to the exhaust trench they flew, with bays full of torpedoes, and wookie claws too. Ha ha, I cackled, as the quarters they sped betwixt. That design fly you seek, it has been fixed. I transmitted this mockingly in the clear, the better their hopeless cries I might hear. With a sudden twist, they looped backwards then dove, deep within the structure of my weapon, then nimly wove. Their way through the guts of my fully functional battle station, sudden forbidding, gripped me, and left my twisted face ashen. Vader, I rast, then remembered he'd left. His ill-timed vacation had left me bereft. My crimson robed guards, they stood there all silent, and I remembered too late that they weren't all that violent. Everything up till now had transpired by my design. The upcoming battle would be far from benign, but wookie claws, presence I had not foretold. My vengeance on Kashik would be returned tenfold. In anger I yelled for my guards to leave us! Through briefly nostalgic for Hanukh Agrivas, his coughing was tiresome, his aim poor in fights, but his antics at least were confined to a mere eight crazy knights. Almost instantly I heard some explosions and blasts, but near my room, not via broadcasts. I pulled in my cloak and was spinning around when through the vent duct wookie claws dropped with a bound. He was covered in fur from his ears to his foot, and his holiday clothes were all tarnished with blast marks and soot. A bowcaster he'd bound securely to his back, and he looked like a toydarian as he opened his pack. With a thundering roar he began to speak, but my wookie language skills, well, they were quite weak. So I pulled out my lightsaber and stood attentively. He spoke and purred while I washed semi-blankly. Many handed me something, I flinched back in fear. When what to my wondering, eyes should appear, but a gift, a box, a package of goods, I opened it up and was transported right back to my childhood. Instead of the thermal detonator I had guessed I'd receive. It was a statue of my death star, just in time for my tree. I held it in wonder, my eyes, they were sparkling. My plans of galactic domination, I began parking. Perhaps I would wait and first speak with Vader's son, instead of quickly executing him down in my dungeon. I had planned on a death quick and neat and efficient, but the glow of the ornament, it was indeed brilliant. Thank you, wookie-clas, for the clarity you bring. This decision to kill Skywalker had left me aching. His false abilities were they properly applied. And fulfill his destiny as he took his father's place by my side. He spoke no more words, but when straight to his work, he charged up my space-chair, then turned with a jerk, and laying his furred finger aside his huge honkin' nose. He barked briefly, then on the turbal lift he rose. I saw him jump into his freighter, cut in the auxiliaries, fire up the repulsors, and blast away with his cronies. And I heard him transmit as he rocketed out of sight. And to all a good night.