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Grand Moff Tarkin tapped his teeth with a thumbnail, the only indicator of tension as the Death Star approached its target in the Yavin system, following an optimized orbital loop around a gas giant to line up its shot.
"Rebel base thirty seconds and closing."
Outside, the battle was quickly winding down as rebel fighters peeled off and headed for the temporary safety of the rebel moon. It was down to a single X-wing flying at reckless speed along one of the Death Star's trenches, closely followed by three TIE fighters.
Use the Force, Luke. Trust your feelings.
Luke Skywalker shook his head, and made a fateful decision. He reached out and pressed a button.
"Luke! You've turned off your targeting computer. What's wrong?"
"Nothing!" Luke called back to the rebel C&C. "I'm all right." He closed his eyes and mentally stretched out, sensing the rapidly closing target ahead. Yes… there it was, the two-meter auxiliary exhaust port guarded by a point defense tower just beyond his target.
"Seriously? At your speed, you think you can force a couple of torpedoes to make a right-angle turn and drop down into that little exhaust port?"
"What?" Luke called out, his concentration broken. "Who said that?"
"Hi!" a female voice called back. "It's Red-7, call sign Skitter. You're not the only person with this 'Force' as you people like to call it. You have no idea what's behind the Force, do you?"
"Not a good time for conversation!" Luke screamed into his mic as multiple shots from behind flashed past, barely missing. No, not missing! His R2 unit was hit.
"Allow me to demonstrate," Skitter called. She reached out to the TIE fighters following behind Luke. There. She had planted a few interesting creatures in Darth Vader's armor a few days ago, and at least two had finally burrowed their way in. It was just dumb luck Darth Vader was piloting the lead fighter, but she planned take full advantage of the situation.
"I have you now…" Darth Vader chortled as he overcame the Force resistance of the last rebel in the trench. His display beeped as it finally target-locked the X-wing.
"AAAAH!" Vader screamed as a sharp burning pain caused him to involuntarily jerk back on the control stick. His TIE fighter spun out of control, crashing into one of the fighters flying in formation with him. As he tumbled off into space, the other fighters crashed in the trench.
"And that takes care of the guys following you, Luke," Skitter called. "By the way, your pirate buddy Han and his shaggy friend are on their way back."
With disgust, Luke switched his targeting computer back on. How could he focus now?
"They had a change of heart?" he asked. His calm voice belied his surge of anger. If he could keep Skitter talking, he could get a fix on her position and shut her the hell up! In the confusion, no one would question another missing pilot. Luke sighed, knowing there wasn't time to act out that fantasy. The destruction of the Death Star came first.
"Not exactly," Skitter replied, her voice registering no concern about the current situation. "I had to threaten the wookiee with a permanent blister-flea infestation. He, in turn, threatened to break every bone in Han's body if they didn't turn back."
Luke was struck silent, dumbfounded by this revelation. The targeting computer beeped for attention, and he reflexively pulled the trigger. Twin torpedoes launched from his X-wing as he pulled back hard on the control stick, barely missing the defense tower. The torpedoes curved, but didn't quite make the turn. One impacted inside the vent a few meters down, causing the second torpedo to detonate as well, tearing open multiple decks to space. Dozens of personnel were knocked off their feet, the unlucky ones blown into vacuum before emergency bulkheads stopped the loss of atmosphere, but a few unfinished service corridors and the exhaust vent remained open to space.
Several kilometers away on the Death Star's overbridge, no one noticed the impact. The damage was too insignificant to be reported that far up the command chain.
"Rebel base is in range."
The Grand Moff smiled and turned to his second in command. "You may fire when ready."
"Idiot!" Luke shouted as he saw the results. "I could have destroyed it! This is your fault, Skitter! The rebellion is finished thanks to you! When I track you down, I'm going to blow you into tiny pieces!"
"No Luke," Skitter replied calmly. "Even with the Force to guide you, your torpedoes could never make that turn—they were bound to bang into something—but you have already helped immensely. Watch this!"
To Luke's astonishment, a continuous flow of something began to stream into the holes torn open by the torpedoes, as well as zooming down the exhaust vent. He tried to get a reading. It appeared to be lots of small objects—tens of thousands of small things entering the Death Star.
"What the hell are those?" Luke asked, his initial anger gone.
"Mynocks," Skitter replied. "Dumb as Earth crabs, they're attracted to magnetic fields. They're bad enough on their own, but imagine intelligently directed mynocks! Come on! Let's get the hell out of here."
What is a dirt crab? Luke wondered as he accelerated away from the Death Star at full thrust.
The Grand Moff's order was relayed to the super-laser control room.
"Commence primary ignition."
A low thrumming built up deep inside the Death Star as capacitors the size of Corellian corvettes began to discharge into massive particle accelerator tubes, which would ultimately combine into a single super beam weapon.
Klaxons began to sound throughout the control room. Frantic voices called out.
"Master alarm! We're losing field integrity in tubes three, eighteen, thirty-seven, fifty-one…!"
"Standby. Switch to secondaries."
"It's no good. We're losing backup systems too!"
"Get that under control!"
"Standby… standby…."
In a blinding flash, the Death Star was momentarily brighter than Yavin's own star. Raw-throated cheers transmitted over every channel as the surviving fighters lost communication discipline.
As the cheers died down, Luke quietly said to Skitter, "I have to give you credit, you did good back there."
Skitter had finally come out of hiding—if she had been, in fact, hiding, and not using some sort of mind trick—and their X-wings flew side by side back to Yavin.
"Oh, don't give me credit," Skitter replied. "I insist."
"Really?" Luke asked, surprised as he turned to look at the X-wing beside him. He could vaguely make out a dark shape through the cockpit windows, a shape that seemed to flow and change as he watched. It was disturbing. He gave his head a shake.
"Really. I prefer to work in the background. It draws less attention that way."
"Sure I can't bug you to change your mind? You were the real hero, or heroine, today."
"Oh Luke," Skitter said with amusement. "If I want something, you can be sure I'll bug you. See ya later."
Luke's final shock came when Skitter's cockpit canopy opened without warning and a mass of insects blew out in a puff of expanding gas. There was nothing he could do but stare as Skitter's X-wing began a slow tumble. His status board showed it was fully shut down, its engines rapidly cooling.
A day later, after the celebrations were over, a tug was sent to salvage the derelict X-wing. No body was ever found in or around the fighter.