It was bright. I’d say that for the Imperial hovercraft, as it exploded in the upper atmosphere. It was brighter than day, and the image of the shuttle imprinted itself upon my eyes so that it was like a ghost. In fact, well after the doctors said that the temporary blindness caused by the explosion should have faded, I saw that shadow. It followed me around everywhere I went. The queen was dead. Even as I slept at night, the burned-in image kept me company. There was only one conclusion I could come to; I’d use far too many explosives.