Chapter Eight: David and Goliath

Star Wars + Harry Potter Crossover

A/N: Chap 7 Review Responses are in my forums like normal. Thank you all for reading!

Chapter Eight: David and Goliath

Harry knew the very second when Leia woke the next morning. Her whole body went rigid and her breathing stopped for three heartbeats, as if she just suddenly realized she was in a man's bed, with a man's arm held tightly around her bare stomach, and a man's body pressed hard against hers.

In the cold clarity of the morning after, decisions that seemed reasonable and necessary the night before were no longer as clear cut. Right now, he knew she was looking for a way to escape what could be a terribly awkward situation.

So Harry responded in the way he did with all awkward situations—bad humour. "You know, I could get used to you being so short. You fit right into me." He pointedly yawned. "Thank you for coming last night. I can't remember the last time I slept so well."

And in fact he was telling the truth. With Leia nestled up next to him, he'd slept without any nightmares at all for the first time since Earth was attacked and he lost everything. Leia relaxed slightly. "I've never done anything like this before," she admitted without facing him.

"You still haven't done anything, you know," he said.

Still under the cover, she pushed out enough to turn and face him. "I would have," she said. The admission seemed to scare her.

Harry smiled and ran a hand over her cheeks, until his thumb brushed her lips. "On my world, I was a type of peace officer. I've counselled people who went through trauma. People who share bad or dangerous situations often feel drawn to each other. If you had come, and I'd tried to entice you to have sex with me, I'd have taken advantage of you, and that's not something I ever want to do. If you ever share my bed, I want it to be because you love me, not because I saved you from the Death Star."

"And what about you?"

"What can I say? You're the beautiful princess. I may not be a farm-boy, but on the other hand, at least I'm not your brother."

Leia rolled her eyes, laughed and climbed out of the cot, the awkwardness forgotten. In the light of the morning, he could see the bruises that covered her torso from the pain amplifier, and the dark spots on her arms from the needles. And yet, for all the obvious trauma, she was a beautiful woman. She climbed back into her clothes and then absently gathered her long hair and tied it into a knot at the base of her head. Only then did she look at him.

He made no move when she knelt down beside the cot, leaned over and kissed him on the lips. It was an awkward, tentative kiss, but beautiful and sweet for all that. And he returned it. Even though she was half his age and he was widowed not even a year, he kissed her back with a desperation not even he realized he felt. He kissed her until he was sitting up on the cot and she was pressed up against him, kissing so passionately he saw stars. It was like that first brilliant kiss he and Ginny shared a lifetime ago, during his sixth year.

They parted, and she stared intently at him. "Was that trauma-induced?" she finally asked, breathing hard.

"Probably," he said. "Doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it."

She smiled shyly. "Thank you, Harry. Thank you for saving my life, and for being there last night."

"That kiss made it totally worthwhile," he assured her.

With a brilliant smile, she stood and started to leave. "General Dodonna's going to hold a briefing this morning on what we learned from the plans. You should come."

"I'm no pilot."

"You might still be able to help. General Kenobi will be there too."

"Okay, I'll be there. But only because you asked."

This made her smile even brighter as she turned and left the room. In her absence, the room seemed smaller and darker. "Damn, Potter," he whispered to himself.

~~Revenge~~

~~Revenge~~

The briefing room was standing room only when Harry managed to sneak his way in. He received quite a few stares, and not all of them were friendly. Harry knew from personal experience that military institutions had a very efficient rumour mill, and there was a good chance people already knew Leia Organa spent the night with a complete unknown.

At the front of the crowded room stood General Dodonna, along with Kenobi and Leia. They were discussing possible routes of attack on the Death Star, many of which sounded impossible or at the least highly unlikely. Leia saw Harry, half-smiled, and then with an effort that was obvious to every hot-blooded man in the room, forced herself to look back to the many technical displays the droid provided.

"After extensive analysis, we believe our best option is a small thermal exhaust port located right below the main port," General Dodonna said. "The shaft leads directly to the reactor core. A proton torpedo launched into this port could travel directly to the hypermatter reactor, thus destroying the station. However, the target area is only two meters wide."

That raised a few mutters from the crowd. Harry searched and saw Luke sitting next to his friend from Tattooine. The young man was staring at Leia, but not with a smile. Rather, he looked deeply confused. As if he could feel Harry's gaze, he turned and returned the wizard's gaze.

Harry nodded to him, acknowledging the young man's difficulties.

Luke mustered a weak smile.

"A squadron of fighters will have to make their approach through this trench," Dodonna was saying, "and fire their torpedoes to hit the target. It will be an extremely tough shot—we have already programmed our simulators for it."

The holographic display showed fighters dropping torpedoes at what looked like a parabolic course. Confused, Harry tapped one of the orange-suited pilots on the shoulder. "Hey, aren't torpedoes forward-thrust weapons?"

"Yeah, this plan is crazy," the young man said with a roll of his eyes.

Harry was not a pilot, and had not logged any time in the sims, but this just seemed silly, and so he raised his hand. Dodonna saw him, recognized him, and stumbled to a stop. "Yes, Mr…Potter, was it?"

"Yeah. Look, I don't have a lot of experience in the cockpit, but wouldn't it be better to give the pilots an attack plan that puts their targeting computers on a direct line-of-sight to the target? I mean, have them come in vertically to the shaft so they can just dump a torpedo in it?"

"In an ideal world, Mr Potter, that would be best," Dodonna said with a tone of strained patience. "However, the surface of the Death Star has more turbolaser and laser cannon towers than even the most defended of worlds. Any starfighter, no matter how fast or nimble, that maintained a course long enough to get a target lock would most assuredly be destroyed."

Harry saw several of the other pilots nodded, and a few whispering to each other as they glared at Harry. The despoiler of the princess was not a very popular person.

"Okay, so what if a few fighters were wrapped up in a dimensional pocket that prevented them from being detected by any means, while at the same time giving them full sensor and targeting capabilities?"

The question stopped the whispers. Everyone in the room turned and stared incredulously at him. "That type of cloaking technology does not exist," Dodonna said at last, as if offended at the mere idea.

"Fine. Tell me how Princess Leia got here, then."

"Excuse me?"

"How did Princess Leia get here?"

"Well, a ship, obviously. Captain Solo delivered her on a ship."

"What kind? Where did it land? Why wasn't it challenged by your sentries? What was it called?"

"What was it called?" Kenobi suddenly asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not the secret keeper anymore. The only person who can see it is Solo, and those he tells. For all intents and purposes it does not exist. Except if it were to fire its weapons at you, and even then you wouldn't see it before you died"

"Mr. Potter, I don't…"

Harry disappeared, and then Apparated to the other side of the room before letting his cloak fall. Dodonna visibly jumped at Harry's sudden change in position. "Before Tarkin's ships came and burned my world, there were a handful of humans there born with something we called magic. I suppose it was similar to the Force, but not the same thing. We can do things that other people cannot. For instance, I can cloak a ship in a dimensional envelope that makes it impossible for anyone but the pilot to see. So, you have a fighter that not only is invisible, but actually does not even exist in the same dimension as the objects around it, float unseen above the target. And they just drop a few torpedoes in. I suppose you could launch other fighters as a distraction, but that might not even be necessary."

Dodonna was staring at him as if Harry had just kicked him in the nads. However, General Kenobi stroked his beard and said, "I believe that would be a more effective approach. I do recall the ship that brought us here successfully evaded several hundred TIE fighters."

"But…but…" Dodonna said.

"We could make a vote out of it," Harry suggested brightly. "All the pilots who want a straight up, impossible-to-win dogfight and impossible-to-hit target raise their hands."

No on raised their hands.

"All in favour of sneaking a few invisible ships in to blow the damned thing up without a fight, raise your hands."

Every pilot in the room raised their hands.

"But…but…" Dodonna said.

"The 'Let's-not-get-our-arses-vaped' vote has it!" Harry said. "Military planning through democracy. Yay us. Now, I'm hungry. Anyone up for some food?"

~~Revenge~~

~~Revenge~~

In the end Captain Dutch Vander led a squadron of Fidelius-charmed Y-wing fighter bombers on an attack on the Death Star the Imperials never saw coming. The charm itself was the most difficult part of the mission. Each Y-wing had to be specifically named and labelled so that Harry could cast the charm as, "Dutch Vander flies in the Alderaan's Revenge."

By naming the ship, Harry was able to attach the charm to it, making the tactician on the base, a Colonel Rieekan, the secret keeper so he could share the information with command and control. It was magical proof that names truly did have power.

The squadron was on communication blackout when they flew to the station. However, when Harry and the rest of the base viewed the flight recordings later, it played out pretty much as he and the rest hoped. The Y-Wings oriented themselves perpendicular to the surface of the massive station and used gentle positioning thrusters to bring themselves in line with the exhaust port, while avoiding their main thrusters to prevent detection. After all, the charm could not stop the heat exhaust of the large engine nacelles.

Once lined up, Dutch himself fired five torpedoes from only thirty yards from the target at a perfect angle to go straight down the tube. The torpedoes were equipped with an AI guidance system that navigated the port tube perfectly. The five Y-wings turned about and burned away from the station at full thrust. The station detected the heat signatures and launched TIE-fighters to investigate, but by then the damage was done.

The station exploded just minutes later, adding its molecules to the dust cloud that was all that remained of Alderaan. It seemed appropriate to all involved. Harry just hoped that Nova Stihl and his friends got off in time.

~~Revenge~~

~~Revenge~~

"Good evening, Mr. Potter," Obi-Wan Kenobi said as he sat down at the same table as Harry in the base's cramped commissary.

"Master Jedi General Sir," Harry said between bites.

Kenobi smiled as he always did at Harry's slightly mocking reference.

"That was a rather remarkable thing you did," the Jedi said. "It is likely you saved many lives."

Harry shrugged. "I'll admit it was a good idea, but it wasn't that difficult."

It was the evening after the 'battle', and most of the base was still celebrating. Harry had not even seen Leia or Luke, and this was his first glimpse of Kenobi since the celebrations tended to move away from where he was. The whole base seemed intent to protect the princess from Harry.

"Perhaps, but no one else could have done it, so that makes it remarkable," Obi-Wan pointed out. "Tell me, Mr. Potter, what do you plan to do next?"

"I need to figure out where Earth is and go see how it's doing," Harry said. "I was fighting in England when the Empire nabbed me. I have no idea how the rest of the world is doing."

Kenobi nodded. "Actually, Princess Leia asked that I discuss that with you. With the resources we probably saved today, and the huge public wave of support following the destruction of Alderaan, we believe we might be able to obtain a ship for you. A rather large one, in fact. The Alliance recently came into possession of several Clone-Wars era assault transport vessels that would be large enough to provide at least some relief to a bombarded world. Leia is arguing with High Command to give you use of one of those ships."

Harry regarded the general with a flat expression. "But... There's always a condition."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Of course. If you accept, once your relief mission is done, you would return and become a member of the Alliance. Leia said you already agreed to help."

Harry sat his cup of space-coffee (called caf) down and studied the old man. "Dodonna's not going to like that."

"Jan is a very traditionally-minded military officer who believes in all assets being accountable and quantifiable. You are neither of those. That said, he is also intelligent enough not to let his own prejudices blind him. On the other side of the argument is a gentleman I've not met named General Vernan. He is the commander of Intelligence and Special Operations, and according to Leia, he is actually drooling to get his hands on you."

"I bet."

"You would have command of your own vessel with a certain level of autonomy to accept or refuse missions, and almost unlimited freedom in planning them. We need you, Mr Potter, but we're not familiar enough with your individual talents to say specifically in what way. So, we leave that to you."

Harry considered the possibilities. "How big is this ship?"

"The transport in question is over 750 meters in length. During the Clone Wars, these types of vessels were the pre-cursors to the modern Star Destroyers, and to this day are still as powerful as most capital ships you will encounter. They are also capable of flying within an atmosphere and landing on a planetary surface."

"What rank would I have?"

"Officially you would hold the rank of Colonel."

"And my crew?"

"Small, initially," Kenobi admitted. "With the influx of materials, the Alliance has found itself suddenly short of qualified personnel. Additionally, you would not have much material on your ship—all fighters and gunships it was built to house have long since been destroyed, scrapped or put into use elsewhere. So you would have the minimum crew to man the vessel. However, we would include neural interface programs to assist with training new crew members."

Harry couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I'm familiar with those programs. Okay, fine. Tell whoever you need to tell that the terms are acceptable. Earth first, and then you have a colonel for your army."

~~Revenge~~

~~Revenge~~

Harry had to admit it was a large ship, large enough in fact to carry several dozen of the freighters that Captain Solo flew. The main cargo bay, in fact, was the length of several football fields. He felt like he was stepping into a vast, metal city rather than a ship. In fact, if Harry remembered correctly, this craft was more than twice as long as the longest aircraft carrier on Earth, and wider than any aircraft carrier was long.

It smelled like rust and sweat. The only way to board it was up a long, narrow staircase that ran up the front support landing gear, since the main boarding ramps were jammed shut. After that climb, he stepped aboard with a talking squid named Talkar who was to serve as captain, at least for now.

"As you can see, it is not in combat condition," the Mon Calamari said in his bubbling voice as the two stepped through the airlock and into the cavernous ship. High above, Harry saw what looked like a solid wall of windows—crew quarters. The wall looked over a truly cavernous interior with an odd, elevated bridge jingling with empty hooks. "All support craft have been removed, and in fact the elevated gunship bridge does not even work. Since the Alliance's tactics do not favour infantry as much as the Empire, there has been no need."

The ship was one of five lined up side-by-side in a field ten klicks away from the primary rebel base. The Alliance was eager to get the ships into space as soon as they could for security reasons alone, if nothing else. "Where'd you guys get these ships?" Harry asked as they walked past the blackened, rusted floor of the interior.

"A team of Special Ops infiltrators stole them from an Imperial ship graveyard," Talkar said. "They were being delivered to the ship graveyard for final decommissioning when our teams sneaked aboard and flew them to safety. We stripped the ships of all transmission devices prior to bringing them here, of course."

They had to walk to the far side of the ship since the near-side turbolift was not functioning. The ride up gave him a better look at the multiple decks designed to house soldiers by the thousands. This was a bare-bones warship—the center of the craft was composed of the reactor drive and power generation systems. Everything else was built out as a giant bucket around it. The bridge when they reached it looked as if Nifflers had been through it—half the consoles were literally ripped out, with wires and cables strewn haphazardly across the floor. Two dozen beings, some human, some far from, stood about working on those few consoles that were intact.

"Can this thing even fly?" Harry asked.

The Mon Calamari sighed. "Yes, if just barely." Talkar paused and his lipless mouth trembled a moment, as if in thought. "I shall be frank with you, Colonel Potter, given the assistance you provided against the Death Star. You are getting this vessel in large part because the cost of making it combat effective is significantly greater than it would be for the remaining vessels. While Princess Leia and General Vernan enthusiastically argued for your use of a vessel, the remaining leadership of the Alliance was not as confident.

"She will fly, but she has only half of her point defence laser canons, four of her twelve quad turbolaser canons, and no torpedoes or concussion missiles at all. Her shielding is all but non-existent other than the bare particle and ray shielding necessary to preserve human life. A pair of TIE fighters would be enough to destroyer her. I agreed to captain her because in so doing I position myself to take command of one of the new frigates being built on my home world with experience under my belt. I do not intend to stay for long."

Harry found he could not resent the creature, and in fact appreciated the honesty. "I understand, Captain. If nothing else, I'll do my best to learn from you. I understand we have neural interface chairs?"

"Five, yes. And a program on this vessel has already been loaded."

"Well, at least I know what my first steps are."

~~Revenge~~

~~Revenge~~

After a night having information implanted directly into his brain, Harry learned that the Acclamator class assault ship was designed for a crew of 700, and was capable of carrying 16,000 clone troopers and support personnel, as well as hundreds of fighters, gunships and armoured ground transports. During the first years of the Clone Wars, Acclamators formed the core of the Republic navy and military before the larger, more powerful Venator-class destroyers were introduced into service.

Harry's ship, which he christened the Phoenix, had a crew of ninety-eight. Period. And those ninety-eight were not pleased to be crewing what they openly called a Death Trap. Nor could Harry fault them—the ship really was a death trap. Six decks on the ship were sealed off because of hull leaks, and the main cargo landing ramps on either side of the bucket-like hull did not work at all, forcing personnel on and off through a secondary staircase that rose up from the front landing support. Knowing nothing of space ships, even Harry thought the stairs odd the first time he boarded her.

All creature comforts were gone from the crew quarters, forcing those aboard to use portable sonic showers and folding cots. But for all that, Harry did not care. The ship could fly, although as Talkar said, just barely. It was able to make just point two of hyperdrive, whereas modern star destroyers could make three times that speed easily. What it did have going for it, though, was a stolen Imperial transponder that would hopefully keep them from being boarded.

Their first stop was Despayre, or the slowly re-accreting gas cloud that was all that remained of the world where Harry lived for so many months. The captain and four crewmen in the bridge watched as Harry stood in the Centre of a bridge that had no actual windows, just a pair of barely functional holographic view screens, and cast magic.

"Point me Earth," he whispered.

He had no external wand. Instead, he held out his palm and let magic itself spin about in a ball of shimmering light for nearly a minute before the magic shot out in a narrow beam like a blue laser pointer. Talkar looked on with interest. "Captain, can you get a fix on exactly where that light is pointing?" Harry asked.

The Mon Calamari nodded, and one of the human navigators did something that shifted one of the holographic screens around the room until the pointer beam intersected it. From there, they calculated a general point in space and a vector.

"Okay, let's go fifty light years that way," Harry said, pointing again without bothering with coordinates.

"Why?" Talkar asked.

"Because I don't know for sure where my world is. We were pre-space flight. So, I'm going to triangulate its location."

"I see."

One hyperdrive jump later, Harry performed the point me spell again. "I believe we have a fairly solid set of coordinates," the navigator said. "If we get close enough, we can start long-distance scans."

"Right, let's go."

It took only a day's search and scanning to find Earth. Harry had no idea what he expected to find, but he hoped to find a world already recovering from the horror of the invasion. In his mind, he fantasized about a planet already greening after its violation, and a resilient people learning from their past and already on the way to recovery.

He saw all this so clearly in his mind it was difficult to reconcile what he saw with his eyes.

"All indications are the world has been subjected to a Base Delta Zero order," the navigator said. The human male spoke softly; perhaps aware of the turmoil Harry was feeling. "Atmosphere is saturated with water vaporised during the bombardment, and the orbital rings are indicative of material ejaculate consistent with planetary-level bombardment. Planetary temperature is actually falling as we are watching."

The Earth was not black—it was white, covered completely in a thick layer either of clouds, or along the poles blankets of ice which seemed much larger than Harry remembered. Most telling, though, was the thin ring of material that circled the equator just inside the orbit of the moon.

"Nothing could survive that, Colonel Potter," Talkar said. "I'm sorry."

"Actually, sirs, I am detecting some life indicators," the woman manning the ship's scanning console said. "In at least four spots."

The holographic view screen stripped away the clouds to reveal the crater-marked, blackened surface of the planet below. Harry was stunned to see ice crawling out of mountain valleys that previously were free of glaciers, proof of the Nuclear winter the world had fallen into.

Onto this altered map of his home world, four spots appeared: one in Scotland, one in the western half of North America, one in Brazil, and the last in Australia. "Are those spots shielded?" Talkar asked.

"No, but the readings are odd. The only reason I can see them at all is because this ship uses an old VR-2 class organic spectrometer. The newer ships wouldn't even see it, I bet."

Harry, though, knew what it was. Somehow, Hogwarts, the South Western Institute of Magic, the Brazilian Institute of Magic and the Australian College of Magic had all survived, perhaps because their wards were powered by ley lines. Regardless, someone appeared to have survived.

"Take us down to that point," Harry said, pointing to Scotland. "I need to see what's left."

"Very well, Colonel. But I advise you not to get your hopes up too much. There is a reason those old VR spectrometers were replaced."

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Author's Note: Once again I just wish to stress just how much I appreciate Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading yet another of my stories. As always, they make everything better.