Chapter
Four: Nameless Nemesis
Sevron
One dropped out of hyper-space. The familiar tri-winged vessel lumbered
across the black backdrop, towards the assault frigate ahead. After a brief moment of silent travel, the escort
shuttle came to an abrupt halt. Inside
her cockpit, the Sellonian woman sat at the communications consol, transmitting
the security codes for safe passage through the minefield surrounding the
asteroid cluster. Laser mines and
missile batteries were cast about like black stones spread over a chess
board. Without the proper codes, the
silent black star-shaped mines would erupt into a field of red laser fire. There were only two minutes to spare, once
the mines had acquired a lock on an inbound target. Quickly, but carefully, Lieutenant Commander
Kriisha typed the code into her keypad.
Checking it over again, she sent it.
A brief moment of agitated silence, and the asteroid station gave her
the go ahead to proceed through the minefield.
Without meaning to, the Sellonian’s fur had bristled slightly at the
back of her neck. Kriisha always grew
nervous in the shadow of the largest asteroid.
So many weapons installations guarded the entrances into the shipyards,
and they held their fire only to be set off by one number mistyped. She eased the throttle forward, until it was
at three-quarter power. The bright
yellow light of the shuttle’s engines roared their radiance, as it approached
the Frigid Claw. Static came over her intercom as someone
hailed her. Using one of her sharp claws,
Kriisha flipped a switch on the comm.
The icy voice of her captain spoke.
“Welcome home, commander. I trust your flight was run of the
mill.” Hesitating before answering, the
Sellonian responded in a purr-like voice.
“Things went as they supposed to…I
bring news to your ear.” Her deep ginger
eyes glinted under the dim overhead lamp, as she stared off towards the
frigate. Though the shuttle was spacious
enough for one person alone, being able to carry twenty-four passengers in
addition to its normal crew of six, Kriisha preferred the coziness of her
quarters aboard the assault frigate. The
static over the radio rung in her ears again, and she winced. It was not the captain however, but the
traffic controller.
“Sevron One, you are cleared for
landing on the Frigid Claw. Reduce your
speed to ten percent throttle, and retract your wings once you are within
docking range.” Kriisha replied with
nothing more than a ‘yes’. The white and
turquoise-painted hull of her shuttle slowly flew towards the hanger. Stars glinted off the plasteel cockpit
window, masking the Sellonian woman within.
As the shuttle came in range, Kriisha folded the two lower wings, which
slowly lined up alongside the stationary dorsal wing. The shuttle, now ready for landing, leisurely
entered the hanger. The sun’s rays ran
up her wings slowly as the sun rose over a planet. The force field protecting the hanger
encompassed the shuttle like water flowing over a rock. Slowly, Kriisha extended the landing gear,
and activated the ship’s repulsor lifts.
A soft jolt and the shuttle landed.
The lieutenant commander stood up from her chair, stretching her spine
and flexing her razor sharp claws, as several points in her spine popped. The ruff of her neck stuck out, as she walked
down the dimly lit corridor of the shuttle.
Kriisha always grew nervous after such an assignment. Even though the mission had been successful,
Valrico was a hard man to please.
Sometimes mere perfection was not enough…The exit ramp extended, and the
bright light of the hanger poured in. In
two long strides the Sellonian was firmly on the deck again. She squinted from the radical change in
lighting, as her wide pupils narrowed into slits. Commander Shiva stood a few paces from Sevron One, with two Aqualish security guards to either side of him. Each was armed with heavy blasters and the
commander carried a blaster pistol at his side.
Kriisha stood hesitant, wondering as to the purpose of this
contingent. It seemed that there was no
cause for alarm, however, as the Barabel man walked forward, bearing his sharp
teeth in a smile. Perhaps the security
guards were no more than an honor guard.
“Greetingsss Kriisha, it is good to
have you home again. The captain
awaitsss news of your sightingss...Will you join us in his ready room?” His thick, black tongue dashed this way and
that amidst his many sharp teeth.
Kriisha returned a smile, revealing her long fangs. She found it quite irritating that the
captain would not allow her a chance to rest, and bathe. Two days in the shuttle, without her cozy
room was more than enough to put her into an agitated mood, and she needed to
groom. The fur along her tale briefly
stood out, accenting her distaste of the situation. She sighed, and gave her compliance to the commander.
“Yes, yes I will.” That was all she said.
“Good, I trust you have brought the
data chip with you?” His large glassy
eyes stared into hers. Kriisha simply
gave a nod of her head. Shiva smiled,
and beckoned towards the bulkheads. He
turned away, with her at his side, towards to hanger entrance. With a clank and a swish, the hanger entrance
doors opened. The group exited the
hanger, and walked down the grey corridors of the ship. Behind her, the Aqualish men followed. The Sellonian’s ear jerked back, as she heard
the sound of firearms being put on safety.
Such stupid worms, she
thought. The blind aggressiveness of the
Aqualish people was known throughout the galaxy. They made perfect soldiers, as they were more
than willing to carry out orders to kill without question. However, this ran hand in hand with their
love of violence. It seemed as if the
ship’s guards were always looking for the next chance to use their
weapons.
Commander Shiva suddenly halted, and
turned back to face the two guards.
Abruptly they came to a standstill, taken back by the commander’s
unexpected movements. Confused, they
looked at each other, and back to the commander. The Barabel spoke in his raspy voice.
“That will be all, chief. Resume your patrol of the lower decks.” Shiva nodded and was about to turn away from
them when the chief said something rather heated in the Aqualish tongue. The voice was deep and watery, but it was
clear to Kriisha he was upset about something.
Shiva rolled a growl in his throat, annoyed with the guard.
“I don’t care what your ordersss
are; I am giving you new oness. Now get
out.” The last words the commander
stressed in a louder voice. The chief
furrowed his grey blue brows and squinted his bulbous black eyes in irritation. Turning away quickly, he motioned for the
other guard to follow him. As they two
guards paced down the corridor, the commander followed them with watchful eyes. He knew very well of the Aqualish arrogance,
and it always annoyed him. Dismissing
the event from his thoughts, he resumed the march down the corridor. Kriisha followed slowly behind him.
After a few minutes walk, the two
arrived at the captain’s ready room, where the Sellonian had last received her
briefing before departed on her mission.
Standing at the entrance to the room, was Lieutenant Bajib. The Bothan man was stroking his muzzle
impatiently. Eying Kriisha warily, he
spoke to the commander, snarling.
“What took you so long? The captain is eager to hear the news she
brings.” Before Kriisha could retort to
his abrupt rudeness, Shiva stepped forward and stared deep into the eyes of the
Bothan man. For a moment everything went
quiet in the ears of Kriisha. She
watched the Barabel stare at Bajib, as a predator stares at prey. Shiva was level headed enough, but when
pushed too far he could erupt into a blaze of anger. Relaxing his rigid shoulders, Commander Shiva
responded.
“Mind your place, Bajib. Lieutenant Commander Kriisha has come a long
way over a ssshort period of time and done much. If you are sso eager, then perhaps next time
you would ssee fit to leave your sssafe hole and accomplish the real
work.” Lieutenant Bajib resonated an
irritated call, but realizing his place was far below theirs, he smiled back
apologetically.
“Yes, yes of course. I meant no offense sirs. Please, follow me.” He gestured for them to precede them into the
empty room. Shiva went first, followed
closely by Kriisha, with Bajib trailing behind the two like a hound. Kriisha adjusted the leather vest over her
breast, and zipped the front down slightly, exposing her neck and chest
bone. She brushed the short, smooth hair
on her face to either side, and tweaked one of her wiry whiskers. The first to sit was Lieutenant Bajib, taking
his normal seat three spaces from the left side of the captain. Shiva took his normal place at the left hand
of the captain’s seat, with Kriisha taking up residence in her place one space
from the right hand chair where Captain Palziz sometimes sat. Before each seat were placed cold beverages
of a fruity concoction as well as light bread cakes. Kriisha took a sip of the drink, but
grimacing, put it back down. Her
predatory tastes left little room for such ‘exotic’ flavors. Bajib, however, had already finished his
drink and was wolfing down a cake. Shiva
took no apparent notice of the small meal, as he ran his black claws gently
over the steel table.
His head rose as he heard the clear
sound of leather boots ringing in the corridor outside the ready room. It sounded like a small procession was on the
move. Clad in a black leather vest and
burgundy tunic over black trousers, Fleet Captain Valrico strode in, with
Captain Ugora at his side. Behind and to
his right, Captain Palziz paced elegantly.
Captain Galvour and Captain Juvran gaited behind them. The two lesser captains wore the same uniform
as the three fleet commanders did.
Behind them were two lower ranked officers that were squadron leaders of
two of the fleet’s top fighter squadrons.
Kriisha acknowledged one of them with a nod, before standing to salute
to the two captains. Shiva and Bajib did
likewise. Both of the captains smiled
coldly and saluted the three in return, before making for their seats. Cale Palziz walked directly to his chair sat
down. Valrico strode about the room for
a short while, before turning his back and staring out the portal. The squadron leaders, Lieutenants Ledrev and
Borcal sat down beside Lieutenant Commander Kriisha. Borcal, a rough human man of thirty-three,
leaned over towards Kriisha and whispered something in her ear. Kriisha nodded her approval of his comment
and turned to Cale. The captain had
already taken note of Borcal’s aside, as he looked expectantly at Kriisha,
awaiting an explanation. Instead of
directly answering the captain, Kriisha stood up slowly, leaving her paws upon
the table.
“The lieutenant and me wishing to
know what this meeting is for…” she hesitated a moment, having already guessed
its purpose. “And we wanting to know
what will be done. Long times has it
been since we mingled with military faction.”
She sat back down, slowly, her eyes darting from the captain to
Shiva. Captain Palziz was stroking his
chin, and grinning at the Sellonian women’s inquiries. He chuckled softly and looked at the fleet
captain. Valrico whipped around, but not
agitatedly. It was as if he had been
waiting for such an inquiry.
“A most excellent question, my good
commander. Please, relax, help
yourselves to the refreshments. In good
time we shall discuss what is to be the topic of the day,” Valrico said,
smiling. He clapped his hands together,
and quickly surveying all his officers in the room, posed a question. “So-here we are. Where shall we start on this glorious
afternoon?” The room was silent. No one talked for what seemed like
minutes. Captain Ugora, bold as he was,
stood up with a three-fingered hand on his mouth tendrils. His watery voice flowed throughout the room.
“It seems to me we should start with
an assessment of the lieutenant commander’s mission. I am eager to know what lies beyond this
sector.” Clutching his arm rests, the
Quarren sat back down. He turned his
hard blue eyes to Kriisha, and then back at to the plate in front of him. Clearly, much was on his mind. Valrico turned his hard, thoughtful gaze to
Bajib, and the Bothan took his cue.
“Well, if you would be so kind as to
turn the data chip over to me, commander, I will begin the assessment,”
Lieutenant Bajib said, extending his hand to Kriisha. Quietly, she pulled it out of her vest pocket
and handed it to him. Instead of
touching his hand, she dropped the chip into his from just above it. Bajib placed the chip between two of his
fingers, and held it up to the light.
Eying it carefully before placing it on the hologram, he inserted the
data chip into a slot on his console.
The room’s lights dimmed, and an translucent cube lined with many grids
appeared a meter or so above the center of the table. At first it was only a blank star chart,
showing them the location of their home base, and of other stations that had
been plotted by the fleet’s intelligence.
A small blank area began to flash quietly in the corner of the
display. Moments later the planet of
Naboo appeared. Lieutenant Bajib frowned
in concentration, typing commands into the keypad. Gradually he zoomed into the area surrounding
Naboo, and the planet itself. After five
zoom-ins, the planet was quite visible to the group. But this was not what caught the eyes of all
those observing the holographic display.
With the exception of Kriisha, who was leaning back in her chair in
satisfaction, all were eying the Golan defense platform and two warships
highlighted in red. Lines protruded from
the craft, with labels at their ends identifying the ships’ classes. The two captains sat quietly, seeming
unimpressed by what the screen presented.
Cale Palziz looked almost enticed by the two ships he saw on the
display. Tapping his forefinger lightly
on the table, he turned his gaze to Kriisha.
“Commander…is this the only strength
they have in Naboo? This two-ship fleet
and that platform?” Captain Palziz posed
the question that was on everyone’s mind.
Kriisha, as if coming out of a daydream, leaned forward with dreary eyes
and looked at Cale. Flexing her claws
for a moment, she answered him.
“Sadness, no. According to stupid guard I’m find at
Sarpedon’s base, he says they have three other Mon Calamari cruisers. I writing names down after hearing them.” She
stuck a paw into a pocket on her breast, and rummaged around for the
paper. The Sellonian pulled it out, and
began to read it aloud to the group. “A
flagship named ‘Avarice’, and two support vessels of equal firepower named
‘Intrepid’ and ‘Autonomy’. An overall
full compliment of fighter squadrons to each vessel including Nebulan-B frigate
‘Vaserius’. What is being held by
defense platform, I am not knowing. I
can assume a full compliment there as well.
Also, puny Rebel guard tells me of training academy called Fahirah I
thinks.”
“Fayrah?” Palziz asked, startled yet
intrigued.
“Ah yes, Fayrah it is called,”
Kriisha replied. Fleet Captain Valrico
turned towards the younger captain.
Taking his hand away from his small beard, he spoke.
“This means something to you,
captain?” His hard grey eyes saw deep into Cale’s. For the longest time Cale did not
respond. He seemed to be in deep
thought. The fleet captain cleared his
voice, and finally, Palziz responded.
“Yes…it does.” That was all Captain
Palziz would have said, were it not for the provocation of the older
captain. Reluctantly, Cale delved
deeper. “
“Then it is simply suicide to attack
anyone of these stations! I know very well we are not actually considering this insane act.” He looked
at the fleet captain wild-eyed, as if wanting reassurance on his
conjecture. Seeing none, his expression
turned from baffled to shocked. The
Bothan man slumped back down into his chair.
Next to speak was bold Captain Ugora.
“This act could, if my impression of
the situation is correct, result is substantial casualties on our side. Do not get me wrong, captain,” he said as he
turned his gaze to Valrico. “But we have
not tangled with such a massive force before.
I have no doubt in the capabilities of our commanders, nor our
personnel, but there comes a point where not even skill can outdo number. You see a possible alternative to engaging
the Rebel Fleet, correct?” His eyes darted back and forth, from captain to
captain. Valrico, not breaking his gaze
from Ugora, responded.
“There is always an
alternative. The question is: which is
the right alternative to take? What’s the most profitable one to take? Having such a large hostile fleet near us
poses a ‘small’ threat to our little shipping operation we have going
here. Already the sector patrols have
coordinated reconnaissance teams to try and locate us. Fortunately, our hyper deflection field’s
remained intact, and we’re still in uncharted space. We’ve hijacked multiple convoys. Surely you don’t think we’ve gone unnoticed.
“In fact, I do,” Captain Ugora
replied quickly. He leaned forward to
look directly at the fleet captain.
“Every team we’ve organized for a lift has had different ship
identifications. So for right now it
appears that the quadrant is subject to widespread, freelancing piracy. If we were to strike any part of the Rebel
forces, it would become clear that the attacks are related. This could, and most likely would provoke a
strong response from the entire Rebel
Fleet.” The last line caught even the attention of Lieutenant Commander
Kriisha. At last, after rubbing his brow
for many minutes, Captain Juvran spoke in a soft thoughtful voice.
“So far our success had depended
upon our secrecy.” He paused for a moment, allowing the murmurs of agreement to
subside. “Revealing the fleet would tell
the
“You underestimate the power of the
Crynak, Captain Juvran,” Captain Palziz shot out. “The Rebel Fleet once employed hit and fade
tactics against the Empire, and it worked.
It worked all too well... We have
the faster warships, and the better pilots.
Our commando teams could overwhelm theirs, and-‘’
“We cannot seriously be considering
this attack! I must object, Fleet Captain Valrico!” Bajib interjected. The fleet captain waived his hand slowly at
the Bothan man, gesturing for him to stay his tongue.
“I have not said we should attack
them, lieutenant, I am merely pointing out to the good captain here, that we’ve
less to fear from them than you would have us believe,” Cale said, highlighting
Bajib’s apparent caution.
“Regardless of what decision is made,
there’s a lot to consider here,” Captain Galvour said at last. He stood up, and strode slowly away from his
chair, then swiveled to face the committee.
“Obviously, even if we can avoid it for years to come, the authorities
are going to catch on to us. It happens
to the best. Like a swarm of hornets,
the
“But of course you realize this runs
hand in hand with our downfall. Yes, we
are strong. But we are not an entire
galactic navy. To launch an assault
against an entire Rebel fleet would be madness,” Captain Juvran said
coolly. Valrico turned to Cale, and
posed a question to him.
“Captain- How long do you figure
their main fleet is away from the Golan on patrol, at any given time?”
“Anywhere from five to six
months. Depends on the assignment, and
the sector stability.”
“So
five months. This seems ample time to
devise a strike against one of their convoys.
Like a shadow, we could echo their every movement,” Valrico said. “And how long would it take them to respond
to any incursion against their forces here?”
Captain Cale stared at the
holographic display for a moment before responding. “In the worst case, maybe two days for a
small force to arrive. Possibly up to a
week for the main reinforcements to arrive.”
His gaze passed over the room, as if eyeing them for
disagreement. He saw it in many faces,
and again, Lieutenant Bajib voiced his opinion.
“I must agree with Captain
Juvran. Secret we remain, yes, but we
are not in any position to strike an entire military fleet. If they should find us, we’re done for. Not to mention we shall lose all that has
been gained by-“
“The Crynak Coalition, yes,” Captain
Palziz interrupted. He locked his
menacing gaze with the Bothan’s. “All
that has been gained by force, and war, and bloodshed. In taking such risks we have become what we
are now. Contrary to what you think, we
do have the upper hand here.” Bajib cocked his eyebrow, and glanced at the
fleet captain in question. Valrico kept
a stern smirk upon his face.
“What does he mean by, ‘we have the
upper hand’?” He asked. The whole room
looked at Valrico, wondering the same.
Looking at Palziz, Valrico sighed.
Captain Palziz nodded faintly, and dropped his gaze down to look absent
mindedly at the plate in front of him.
“Many of you are unaware of all that
goes on in my private communications outside of the fleet, as it should
be. However, the time has come when you
should be notified of our latest contacts.
Recently, we’ve begun to receive transmissions from within the Rebel
Alliance channel. Our farthest lying
comsats were the first to intercept them.
Heavy decryption was involved in deciphering them, but we were able to
read the contents. Apparently, someone
has the capability of transmitting the location of the entire
“A bloody defector,” Captain Galvour
said, rubbing his chin.
“It would appear so,” Fleet Captain
Valrico continued. “Though we have not
directly contacted him, we have sent transmissions to his designated rendezvous
point. To show his good will, he showed
us the current status and location of every ship in their fleet.” Kriisha’s
eyes widened at this, and she leaned forward to look at the captain.
“Then why send me to Naboo?” the
Sellonian asked. She was not at all very
happy at being sent into enemy territory just to document what they already
knew.
“The answer is simple: it could be a
convoluted trap. We needed to make sure
that what he was saying had any truth to it.
Apparently it did,” Valrico responded bluntly. Wasting no time, Captain Galvour spoke again.
“Then what is it you are proposing
we do?” His expression was dull, but his eyes hungered for an answer. For what seemed like hours to those sitting
there, no one talked. Kriisha’s fur
bristled at the back of her neck, while Shiva rolled his thick black tongue
around the inside of his mouth. When at
last someone did speak, the voice seemed to break the silence like shattered
glass.
“We are proposing a siege of the
Rebel Fleet,” Captain Palziz said with a smile and a cocked eyebrow. Juvran was sipping his drink, and sputtered
the beverage in his throat. Setting the
glass down abruptly, Captain Juvran retorted to those brazen words.
“And just how do you propose we do
that? Send the entire fleet head on into them? Launch every craft we have
capable of holding anything over a stone cutter into battle? We don’t have the
firepower, not to mention the resources to launch that kind of an assault.” His
hands were spread apart, gripping the table.
Palziz glared at the captain, and then softening his gaze he resumed a
relaxed state. He glanced at Valrico for
a moment, who in turn looked at Cale.
With a brief sigh, Fleet Captain Valrico stood up, adjusting his
belt.
“Lieutenant Bajib, if you would
please dim the lights,” the fleet captain ordered. The Bothan man quickly typed a command into
his seemingly all task keypad, and the lights dimmed several levels. Valrico pressed a button on the right arm of
his chair, and a small lighted hole appeared in the far right corner of the
room. The lamp emitted a beam of light
that reached the far left wall. At first
there was a blank screen. Suddenly the
image crackled, and distortions ran all throughout the projection. When at last the image settled and cleared,
what they saw stunned them. There, in
the center of the screen, stood a man dressed in a uniform of grey-green. On the left side of his chest, he bore a row
of red and blue squares placed on a silvery backing. His grey eyes seemed to stare out into the
room, sizing the group up in one swift glance.
It was clear to all in the ready room what was before their eyes, an
Imperial officer. With the exceptions of
Valrico and Palziz, every Crynak officer had expressions of shock and disbelief
upon their faces. The Imperial spoke.
“Greetings, Fleet Captain Valrico,
you’re running a bit behind the scheduled transmission time.” The commodore had
what was thought of as the classic Imperial officer’s accent. Proper, strict, and well kept, the Imperial
officer could match any in presentation.
He wore a small cap that matched the color of his pressed uniform, with
a small metal Imperial insignia placed in the center of it. His face was clean-shaven, and he had short,
graying brown hair to go with his pale skin.
Fleet Captain Valrico addressed him with respect.
“I am glad you were able to join us
today, Admiral Greer. The personnel you
see around me are mostly of the command staff in the Crynak Coalition. We received the reports from our scout, and
it’s confirmed that the information from our little turncoat informant is
accurate.” For once Fleet Captain Valrico was genuinely respectful to another,
as was evident in the way he spoke. The
Imperial man seemed unimpressed with what was said, but gave his approval.
“Yes, a job…well done. I don’t suppose you managed to complete a
record of the Rebel fleet.” He cocked his eyebrow, and stared with aloof eyes
at the captain. Valrico narrowed his
eyes in distaste at those words. It was
apparent the Imperial was mocking his efforts, as they most always did. However, he knew he had to tread softly while
in the presence of the Imperial. One
wrong word could blow the entire…operation.
Stroking his beard gently, he returned the joust.
“I do suppose we have a complete technical readout of the fleet
and its location. And thanks to the
knowledge of Captain Palziz here,” he gestured towards Cale. “We are now aware of an outlying Rebel
station’s outfit that would be able to reinforce Naboo. If you’ll be so kind as to open a direct link
to your ship’s computer, we’ll send you what we know so far.”
“Very well captain, I’ll have my
tech officer look over it immediately, and make contact with you at a later date. As for the present, we have gathered the
fleet together, and High Command has placed four Imperial Star Destroyers under
my command. Each of us is fully
outfitted with a full compliment of fighters, bombers, gunboats, and assault
shuttles to deploy storm troopers.”
“Very impressive Admiral.” There was
little more Valrico could say. He was
stunned that the Admiral had received such an impressive force.
“It should be sufficient if there
comes a time to engage the enemy. Let us
not forget the terms we came to agree upon.” Admiral Greer paused a moment,
looking down to his left. They could see
the hand of another officer pass a paper to him. “I must go now. Admiral Greer-out.” With one final grim look
from his cool grey eyes, the transmission flickered and ended. Nothing had been said, save from
Valrico. Everyone in the room was
speechless, except Valrico and Cale.
Gazes passed from side to side, as each one looked to another for an
explanation. After a time had passed,
Captain Galvour stood up, stretching his back.
His dark brown eyes looked first at Cale, and then at Valrico. He spoke softly, but it was clear he was
upset about something.
“An Imperial…being associated with
by the Crynak Coalition…what is the meaning of all of this?” His lips pursed
after he finished his broken line. All
eyes turned from him to the fleet captain, and Valrico took no time in
responding. He was waiting for that very
question, and had long since prepared the answer for it. With a final stroke of his short beard, he
spoke.
“Admiral Greer is one of our main
buyers. Just as we once had dealings
with the Rebel Alliance selling illegal warheads to them, we’ve done the same
with the Imperials. This should come as
no surprise.” Most of the officers shrugged their shoulders, as it was quite
common for pirates and smugglers to sell weapons and such to either side in a
conflict. Only Galvour remained
undecided. He showed it in his solemn
state, and furrowed eyebrows. His eyes
bore straight into the fleet captain’s, with the edges of his lips drawn back
in distaste. Valrico continued. “During all of our dealings with the Imps,
we’ve earned healthy fees for our liberated cargoes. In return for our steady supply to them,
we’ve been offered protection whenever we need it. The price was this fleet of Star Destroyers
under the admiral’s command. If we were
ever to come under fire, or have our success thwarted by anything, the Imps
were to help us as they could. I would
call having all these Rebel stations around a mere threat.” Valrico was to say
something more, but he was interrupted by Captain Juvran.
“Excuse me captain, if I may,” he
said politely. The fleet captain nodded
his head. “These stations can’t have
just popped up over night. I know for a
fact they’ve been here for a time, amidst all our success. I was not, however, aware of the Naboo
station. If the threat you’re referring
to is that, then why not break away from that sector and find another one?”
Galvour’s piercing eyes moved from Juvran to Valrico. His jaw was clenched, and his face was
glum. Palziz was first to respond to
Juvran’s question.
“We cannot simply break away from
this sector. The costs would be too
high. Are you saying that we should
simply pack up and leave, or travel from here to the other side of the galaxy
in search of new quarry simply to avoid a few incursions with the local police?
I think not.” He gestured towards the captain of his sister-ship with his
forefinger. Juvran responded immediately.
“Perhaps you think it’s a better
idea to sit here and engage the Rebel Fleet? Risk our fleet in combat with
them? This is not a solution to the matter.” Palziz responded, his eyes growing
intense with anger.
“Have you not heard anything the
captain’s said? We have four Imperial Star Destroyers at our back, on top of
what we already have. That will give any
fleet hell. In this case, we’ll be
sending them to hell.” He stood up, leaning against his knuckles on the
table. They were white with tenseness,
as the skin stretched over the bone.
Juvran stood up as well, raising his forefinger into the air. Setting his jaw rigid, he turned his face
slightly down and sideways as he addressed Cale. Their eyes remained locked, as those around
them could feel their heat.
“You’re all too eager for war,
captain. You think you have a grip on
the gravity of the situation. And for
all your combat you don’t have experience.
Yes, I know of your bone with the Rebels.” Though Cale’s eyes were wide
with rage, he remained silent as Juvran turned to the fleet captain. Despite his cold hard expression, Valrico
looked uncertain. With the way pirate
captains were known to be, it would not at all be uncommon for one of the two of
them to pull a blaster out and shoot the other.
“Fleet Captain, forgive me for this outburst, but… Though I may look at
the worst possible scenario, I see the reality of it as well. I will abide by what is to be done, but I’d
prefer to see some sense in it all.” Valrico stood up slowly, gesturing for
them both to have a seat. He side
glanced both captains crossly. He spoke
with authority that resonated throughout the ready room.
“Enough of this small talk. We are here to discuss the course of action
itself. As Juvran said, there’s much at
risk here. I’ll have you know the Admiral’s
personal command ship, the Scylla, is
on her way here, with an escort of two lancer frigates. He just wants to assess our defenses
personally, though I’ve already given him a complete layout of our static
defense system. Such is the way of the Imps.”
Captain Galvour rolled his eyes. “As for
right now, we’re planning on hitting a Rebel convoy headed for the planet of
Sullust. It’s nothing overly important,
just a few bacta ships and a few Corellian corvettes. Evidently they’re not going to be heavily
guarded. Nevertheless, I’d like to send
in both of our Marauder corvettes and a series of fighters. The purpose in this raid is to spread the
Rebel Fleet’s efforts, and to destroy bacta they might need. Also, if you spot any Corellian transports,
we’re short of those so we’ll want them intact.
Leave no survivors, lest it is a lone escape pod. We want word of this to reach them. It is my judgment they will devote a cruiser,
or at least a corvette to the Sullustian Sector. We’ll have to make sure we don’t get anywhere
near the planet, as it’s surrounded by half a dozen Golan defense
platforms. Any objections to this?” No
one shook their head in disagreement.
“Good,” Valrico replied as he sat down in his chair. He reached forward to grab a cake, and ate it
slowly. The overhead lighting reflected
off the large flat ring on his little finger, which bore the markings of his
family crest.
Finally, the turquoise eyes of Ugora
ceased their darting back and forth, and he stood, rising to his full height. His three fingered hands were clasped behind
his back, as his triangular head turned to face the group.
“This is simply doing as we have
done for a time now. I presume, Fleet
Captain that we’re not waging a war, but simply turning our efforts to seizing
their convoys.” Ugora’s voice flowed through the room. He seemed to have already made his decision.
“Yes, that is correct. But we’ll assume that a heavy response will
ensue. Punching a rancor in the nose
tends to get a reaction. That’s why our
employers have agreed to offer us a little cover. Mostly the Crynak Fleet will be doing the
far-reaching heavy lifting. If it turns
out we’ve got dogs at our heels, then the Admiral and his gang comes in to
clean up the mess. However, by stealing
their convoy cargo from the Rebels, we’ll also be weakening their hold in this
quadrant. Simple as that.”
Though some of the personnel in the
room had their doubts as to the ease of the operation, it seemed to quell them
for the moment. Valrico surveyed the room
a moment, as if checking for doubt in the eyes of his staff. It was
there to be found. However, he also saw
hope in the eyes of many of them. A
larger paycheck was more than enough to tantalize any buccaneer. Valrico then turned towards Lieutenant Bajib,
and asked him for a tactical analysis on the enemy fleet’s positioning.
“Ah yes,” the Bothan said, peering closely at his data
screen. He pressed a grey tab near the
top of it, and the lights dimmed again.
Before them, a spherical holographic display floated. All throughout it were displayed quasars,
star clusters, and systems dwarfed by the scale of it all. It was a display of the known galaxy. Bajib looked up at the hologram, and then
back down at the screen. Using his touch
pen, he selected a zoom-in tab. Several
times he pushed it until the map had focused on their quadrant. Now they could see the fleet’s home,
designated by the Predator’s Loft.
All around it were yellow dots that showed the locations where they had
struck convoys or had engaged in combat.
Near the upper part of the sphere was the planet of Naboo, signified by
the Rebel Golan defense platform. Though
seeming close on the map, the
“Here you see the Crynak’s
main base. Surrounding us are places
you’ll recognize,” he smiled as he said that.
The Bothan was referring to their past battle locations. “Here is the Rebel foothold orbiting Naboo,
and over here is their Academy. Fayrah
not only trains pilots to be incorporated into their fleet, but they also train
military pilots to be sent all over the galaxy.
Across the Rift, as you’re all aware, are reinforcements that can be
sent within a day of being requested.
Several covert Rebel convoys pass by Fayrah on a regular basis by way of
the Rift. They are tasked with supplying
Fayrah’s vast number of personnel.
Before arriving, they make a stop at a platform station very close to
the far away planet of Dantooine, on the other side of the galaxy. This is a major storehouse for the
“Captain Ugora-what’s the
course of action you’d suggest here?” The bright blue eyes of the Quarren
turned to Valrico, their jet black pupils were accented by their cerulean
background, and could be seen widening.
A rumble rolled through his watery voice, as was commonly heard when
Ugora was ready to begin a dialogue.
With one arm resting on the armrest of his chair, he pointed with the
other one at the holographic display.
“Very well, captain,” Ugora
said respectfully. Letting out one last
breath he began his discourse. “With
such a massive force protecting the planet of Naboo, which harbors Sarpedon, it
would be foolish to assault Mathas Station.
A large concentration of their firepower looms there. Fayrah, however, is not as heavily
defended. With only a few gun platforms,
and a small assortment of older fighters, the station presents a vulnerable and
tantalizing target. In one hour, we may
be able to inflict substantial damage. I
advise we contact our informant again and get a schedule of when the least
active day is for Fayrah traffic in the near future. More importantly, let us strike their convoys
near the Rift. Our first strike should
be here. With a simultaneous attack, let
us lay siege to the Dantooine station.
Fayrah would have to be next.
With their supply routes crippled, their ability to train more pilots
for the Rebel fleet would be greatly diminished. Their fighter screen, if it fails, will have
no immediate way of being reinforced.
Raiding any unprotected convoys we can find will be most useful to thin
their efforts. It will be difficult for
them to continue to protect all their assets at once.” He eyed them all
intently, allowing his words to filter into their thoughts. Valrico was smiling faintly, as if giving
Ugora his approval on the matter. The
Quarren captain continued on. “After
we’ve inflicted as much damage as possible to Fayrah, we’ll mostly likely have
invoked a full-scale war. The Imperial
Fleet can move in to assist us. As for
where we can place our vessels…let us send the Marauder corvettes and the new
carrack cruiser to pummel the convoys near the Corellian Run. Set up our blockade there. For Dantooine we should send the End Horizon,
and the Corellian gun ships escorted by a wave of fighters and bombers. The Frigid Claw should patrol the Tyamar
Rift, making sure that any minor reinforcements cannot make it to the Rebel
battle group. The rest of the fleet can
remain here, guarded by one or two of the Imperial Star Destroyers. I suggest we request the assistance of the
other two I.S.D.s in the attack at Fayrah.
We will most likely need some heavy support. With so many multiple attacks in various
locations, the Rebels will he hard pressed to devote any resources to
protecting civilian convoys. We’ll be
free to raid them at our leisure.” Ugora finished with a tweak of his mouth
tendril. As always, Captain Juvran saw a
problem with the arrangement. The
weathered human spoke immediately, but carefully.
“Are we going to try and overwhelm
them? If we do that, we can expect heavy losses in the attempt.” Captain Palziz
was going to seize the chance to insult the older man, when Captain Galvour
motioned to speak.
“No, that’s not it at all. We’re going to do the old hit-n-fade
tactic. Use the very trick the Rebels
used to overthrow the Empire…time to turn the tables and give them a taste of
their own medicine,” Galvour replied coolly with a grin. Ugora nodded his agreement, and leaned back
into his chair. Cale Palziz turned his
fore finger in the air, and rolled his eyes in mockery. Captain Valrico spoke next, before another
dispute erupted.
“Exactly,” he said coldly.
Then, placing a forefinger on the table, he said. “Where they are not, we shall be. Rally our ships. And spread the word throughout the
fleet. I want the first strike team to
be ready by the end of the day.” The captain had spoken to his Barabel
henchman, who would usually handle such matters. Commander Shiva nodded in compliance, his
glassy black eyes intensifying with the battle lust surging through him.
* * *
The calm of deep space was interrupted by the foundations of
battle. Four hours after the meeting had
concluded the Crynak Fleet was in full motion.
Their home base, Predator’s Loft was sending supplies of warheads
and provisions in cargo ferries to each of the warships. Smaller craft and zero-g workers were darting
all about the vessels, making last minute repairs and preparations. About them, Headhunter star fighters flew in
tight formation, soaring throughout the narrow lanes left by the surrounding
craft. Flashes of light could be seen
sparkling in every direction, as workers ignited welding torches or
flares. Another wing of fighters went
screeching by, this time Y-wings from Hunter Squadron, on their way to the
rally point. The turrets from multiple
gun platforms were rotating this way and that, as their short range radar
scanned the system. Mines in front of
them were glowing red dimply, setting markers so the Crynak Fleet would be sure
not to collide with them. From afar, one
could swear that the fury of a hornets’ nest had been unleashed.
Valrico stood silently in his quarters, hands clasped firmly
behind his back. Side to side his rigid
gaze passed slowly, observing his massive fleet in full motion, as an overlord
observes his slaves toil. His mind was
whirling with thoughts of destruction and peril. Masking it all was his expression of
confidence. Though he had much faith in
the fleet and its capabilities, his blood ran hot with anticipation. At last his gaze turned to his solemn
reflection in the portal. Not quite the
face he remembered from his youth.
Nevertheless, he had aged well, and was pleased with the man he saw. The loud ring of an intercom broke his
thought. He was being hailed by the
bridge. Slowly he walked over to his
desk and pressed a button on the steel panel that contained his intercom.
“Valrico,” he said coolly.
Immediately the raspy voice of Commander Shiva spoke in return.
“The firssst strike team is ready for the jump into
hyper-space. I thought you would want to
be on the bridge for thiss, ssir.”
“I’m on my way,” the fleet captain replied. Releasing the button, he ran his hands down
either of his sleeves and adjusted their cuffs.
The gold buttons along the red trim of his uniform gleamed underneath
the yellow lighting of his quarters. For
this occasion, he was wearing the Crynak dinner jacket. It was jet black, with gold trimmed shoulder
tabs and collar pins, and a scarlet trim running along the arms, buttons, seat,
and legs. Valrico strode towards the
entryway of his quarters, stopping briefly to fit his blaster pistol to his
right hip holster. During any such
event, he had to be ready to execute anyone not willing to do their job. Generally, there was nothing to worry
about.
A swish from the durasteel door as it rose, and the captain
emerged into the more brightly lit command deck. The two Aqualish guards that stood sentry at
the entrance to the fleet captain’s quarters glanced at the captain and assumed
a rigid posture, with rifles folded over their chests. Pausing momentarily, Valrico nodded at his
bodyguards and surveyed the bridge.
Commander Shiva stood properly, awaiting the commanding officer to take
up the position in the command chair.
Lieutenant Commander Kriisha stood at his left side, just behind the
Barabel. Her long arms dangled at her
sides, one of her paws fidgeting with her thigh-mounted blaster pistol. Next to her, the Bothan lieutenant Bajib
stood impatiently. Then, to get the ball
rolling, Valrico hardened his gaze and walked towards the command chair. His three command staff officers nodded in
respect, as he sat down into the black leather seat. He swiveled to face them, after entering the
security access code on his armchair.
His eyes cast an aura of supreme confidence before his fellow
officers. He uttered the words they
waited to hear.
“To your stations.” A brief nod from each and they hustled
towards their consoles. Commander Shiva
assumed his position to the left of Valrico, as Kriisha stood silently behind
the helmsman on the right. Her radiant
eyes darted over the keypads of the helm, performing her own checklist. Bajib was peering into a small screen that
had a blue glow, as he checked the ship’s reactor energy level. It appeared to be stable. All around him bridge crew were doing
likewise with their instruments. In
these final moments before departure, there would be a check of all the ship’s
systems. It was Commander Shiva’s job to
assemble the report. After a few minutes
of rapid typing, the serpent voice of the Barabel addressed the captain.
“Reactor-core levelss are at one hundred percent and we have
seen no fluctuationsss in pressure or heat.
Laszer banks are fully charged, and a compliment of one hundred photon
torpedoesss hass been outfitted in our torpedo bayss. We’ve finished rallying one hundred commando
unitss. Radar readingss appear to be
normal, all ssystems respond to the master control. All crew accounted for, fleet captain.”
Command Shiva finished his report with a low growl of eagerness, as his forked
black tongue flicked out of his mouth.
With his clawed hands gripping his durasteel chair, the commander stared
at the captain awaiting the final order.
Around him, time seemed to have stopped as most everyone ceased their
activities to look upon the captain.
Valrico was gently drumming his fingers on the armrest,
observing the sudden calm. He allowed
his piercing gaze to pass over the assortment of aliens and humans. All eyes were fixed upon him, but he saw not
the look of fear in them. Instead, he
saw a lust for battle in their eyes. In
a circular motion his gaze came back to fix upon an officer who whispered a
report in his ear. The crew was standing
by. At length, the fleet captain
motioned with his right hand to the helmsman.
“Lieutenant, take us out.
One quarter power. Set course for
the Tyamar hyper point. Weapons officer,
power up the shields to an even spread,” the captain said with the same voice
he had used so many times before going to battle. The intense eyes of Valrico were now turned
onward, as he peered through the forward viewing screen. They did not waver, even as the soft thrum of
the engines roaring to life sent a minute rumble throughout the Frigid Claw. At a snail's pace the
assault frigate urged forward as the engines accelerated it. Stars, asteroids, and the commotion of the
fleet passed slowly to either side of the viewing screen as the captain looked
out.
The helmsman eased his hand over the controls, and the agile
ship made a swift turn up and away from the docks towards the
computer-projected location of the hyper buoy.
Two Supa fighters went screeching across the screen, intentionally doing
a close flyby off the assault frigate’s bow.
To the left of the Frigid Claw,
Captain Ugora aboard the End Horizon moved off to another hyper
point. Escorting the dreadnaught were
the Corellian gun ships Thunder and Lighting, and a flight of Supa fighters
from Blade Squadron. Undoubtedly,
Lieutenants Ledrev and Syras were stretching their wings during the eve of
battle.
It would be three days until the Imperial Star Destroyers would
arrive to take up the position Valrico had requested as defenders of the
asteroid field and all that was in it.
Nevertheless, the eager pirate was not willing to fritter more time away
in dispute. The time to act was now, he
felt, much against the advice of certain officers. He would take his flagship far away from the
shelter of its nest deep in the asteroid field, into the single most perilous
region in that quadrant: The Tyamar Rift Zone.
To sail the uncharted regions of the Tyamar was folly to some. For millennia, the Rift had plagued space
travelers with uncounted losses.
Uncharted gravity wells seemed to spawn at every bend, and there were
other dangers there. . .Reports from every age that could be
recalled had said that a strange entity lurked among the Rift’s black holes and
nebulae, snatching vessels that could not escape its grasp. Well known to the captain, there had not been
any such events of the sort recently and this threat had all but passed into
legend and then myth. The Frigid Claw had dared the Rift many times.
Both
“Sssirrr, there are five minutess until we break the assteroid
field and reach the hyper buoy. We are
going into dangerous watersss.
Permission to launch a pair of headhunter starfigtherss for
reconnaissanssce,” Commander Shiva asked.
He was turned to face the captain, and Valrico looked down upon him
serenely. Kriisha’s eyes widened for a moment,
just as quickly resuming their blasé state.
She was not one for blindly sending her pilots into danger, and moreover
against sending them into the Tyamar Rift.
The captain gave but a brief nod of his head, in authorization of the
commander’s suggestion.
“Hold station,” Valrico ordered.
They were very near the hyper point, but the captain would not risk
making a jump until conformation from their reconnaissance team that the sector
was secure. Kriisha turned her head back
to the viewing portal, and then to the radar screen. Command Shiva gave the order to a lesser
officer who operated the comm station.
Before the communications operator could send the order the hanger,
Kriisha had abruptly shoved the officer out of the way and took over the radio’s
controls. She would select the pilots
for this job. After toggling the
frequency on the comm set, she found the squadron leader’s office.
“Lieutenant Romac, get ensigns Huylai, and Eganda in air,
now. There’re to lead way into
Rift. Z-95s is choice for this
dance. Thong only, no bras and
skirts. Over.” The radio officer looked in surprise at
Kriisha. He was confused as to the
meaning of that order. That was
precisely why Kriisha had insisted on giving the order herself. A certain protocol was needed in rigging
fighter pilots for flight. There was
little delay to the answer of Romac.
“Aye aye milady, I’ll get ‘em ladies rigg’d ‘n ready. Over ‘n out,” the human man chuckled. Lieutenant Romac was quite fond of and used
to the talk exchanged amongst fighter pilots.
“Thongs only, no bras and skirts” meant that he was to give his two
wingmen a full cannon-charge only, and no missiles or countermeasures. Romac set the headphones he was wearing down,
and turned the scanner of the radio to open again. Fumbling for the pen in his vest pocket, he
marked off the two ensigns to be sent out on his check sheet. The two pilots Kriisha had selected were
excellent pilots, and it surprised him that the Sellonian woman would choose
them for a mission as dangerous as this.
Usually, the lesser pilots of his wing would be sent first into such
dangers. A canary in a coal mine, Romac thought to himself with a grin.
Like everyone else in the Coalition, he had already been briefed
as to their newest assignment. He had to
admit, it was surprising, but he was in no place to argue. Something was definitely up, but the question
was what. Romac snapped back to
attention, knowing that the two ensigns had to be sent up without delay. Peering out of the office window, he could
see the Twi’lek woman Huylai talking with the dark-skinned human Eganda. Both had flight suits on, with helmets held
loosely in their hands. Romac stood up
from his chair, and jogged out of the hanger office and towards the two
pilots. Both noticed his arrival, and
casually saluted him. Huylai squinted
her glittering green eyes in perplexity at Romac’s hurried actions.
“Ok ladies, you’ve got duty in two minutes. Mount up in your Z-95s; you’re to head to the
hyper coordinates I’m gonna’ transmit to ya’ both after takeoff. It’s the Tyamar Rift, so I don’t need t’ tell
you the precaution ya’ need to exercise here.
Full laser bank only, this is a…,” he paused for a moment, reluctant to
tell them the truth. “A blind
flight. You’re gonna’ secure the area
‘fore the Claw makes her jump. Ok, to
your fighters, get goin!” Romac gestured over his back with both hands at the
pair of Headhunters flown by the two ensigns.
Eganda gave a somewhat
perturbed yet sarcastic look of reassurance to Huylai. She pursed her thin lips, nodding her
head. The two sprinted the short
distance to their fighters. The canopies
were open already, and the mechanics were disconnecting the power lines that
had charged their laser banks. Each
settled into the black leather seats, and fastened their safety harnesses with
a ‘click’. After initiating their
crafts’ systems, and powering up the engines, they fired the repulsor-lifts and
lifted off the ground gently. There they
hovered for a moment. The flight officer
made a circular motion in the air, letting them know they were cleared for
takeoff. Huylai took no time and jamming
the throttle controls forward. Without a
second’s hesitation, Eganda did the same.
Simultaneously they erupted through the hanger force field, jetting out
into space. Huylai took the lead,
waiting for the hyper coordinates. It
was only a few seconds before their navcoms lit up with the new beacon. The two roared away at full speed, towards
their jump. It was seconds before the
jump to the Rift. One false coordinate
and their fighters would be hurled into an uncharted gravity well, or black
hole where they would be devoured one molecule at a time. Eganda hoped that the science officer who
planned this had not been drinking at the time of his calculations. There had been no radio chatter. All eyes in the fleet were fixed upon the two
Headhunters about to make the jump.
Now it was time. Without
warning, Huylai pressed the hyper drive key.
Wasting no time, Eganda did the same.
First, streaks of white light went screaming by in a blaze of blinding
light as they accelerated past the speed of light. Then an explosion of solid white, gave way to
the swirl of color in hyperspace. At
this speed, it would not be long before they would arrive at the Tyamar
Rift. Only two minutes had gone by when
the computer deactivated the hyper drive.
The two ensigns’ stomachs clenched in fear and anticipation as streaks
from stars went by as they decelerated.
They had made it out of hyperspace in one piece, and what they saw
before them was breath-taking. A blend
of golden haze from bending light, patches of starry black, and purple clouds
mixed with distant stars and nebulae.
The Tyamar Rift was a catacomb of black holes and gravitational
phenomena, but it was striking. But the
danger of it soon took over the minds of the two pirate pilots. Huylai ran a short-range scan of the sector
to check for black holes. If there were
any, her radar waves would bend and disappear.
She did a complete spherical scan and found no disturbances.
“Nothing Eganda. All
clear . . . transmitting coordinates to those bastards back onboard the Claw,”
Huylai said bluntly. She was deeply
incensed at being sent on this sort of suicide-run. Eganda shared in her aversion, but laughed at
their fortune. The headhunters circled
back around, waiting for the Frigid Claw
to make her appearance.
Aboard the assault frigate, Valrico’s eyes stood trained on the
viewing screen. A feeling of exigency
and aggression came over his mind like a cloak that shrouded all else. His attention broke, when Shiva informed him
of the secure status of their destination.
“Sssirrr, our exit lane is clear. No gravitational disturbancess have been
detected. Shall we commence the jump?”
Shiva inquired. The commander was
clacking his black claws on the control panel before him, waiting in agitation
for the final order. It had come.
“Yes commander, you may make the jump into hyperspace. Distance to the buoy?” The captain asked,
seemingly relaxed as his eyes casually drifted to meet the Barabel’s. Shiva bent down to listen to the helmsman
whisper the time left until the jump.
“If we power up the enginess to full capacity, we will have
twenty secondsss,” the commander replied.
“Very well. Continue on
our present course helm, all ahead full.
You have permission to make the jump into the Rift,” ordered
Valrico. He pressed back into the
comfort of his warm chair, inhaling a breath.
A deep thrum sounded from the rear of the vessel, as the six vertical wing-mounted
engines blazed to life. The assault
frigate accelerated with ease, as her sleek, predator like body skimmed across
the black void. Having already broken
through the barriers of the asteroid field, the frigate was clear to make her
jump. The twenty seconds were up, and
suddenly, the helmsman spoke.
“Activating hyper drive.” The Frigid Claw blasted into
hyperspace.
Captain Ugora watched keenly with
unmoving eyes, as the assault frigate left the system in a blaze of white. Now his mind turned to his own affairs, as
the End Horizon approached the hyper
point. Perched symmetrically to either
side of her were a pair of gunboats, the sister ships Thunder and Lightning. Though their commanders had not attended the
meeting, as they were overseeing the cargo drops, they functioned as guardians
of the Crynak convoys. Every so often,
the two ships would lend a hand in forays.
Their destination, as had been previously decided, was the Dantooine
system. However, they would not simply
drop in unexpectedly inside the range of the Dantooine radar, for to do so
would alert the
Ugora did not expect much resistance
from the station, less still from capitol ship reinforcement. Dantooine once had a Rebel base, but it had
long since been abandoned. In previous
years, both military and civilian convoys passed the sparsely populated
world. Little piracy was to be found
around Dantooine itself, and no one dared attack the station, for fear of
military retribution. Times had now
changed, and the Republic fleet was thinned.
A sudden, powerful hit would overrun the station and its fighter
squadron. Crynak cargo ferries would
hyper in from a nearby system, and collect the more precious consignments
placed about the space yard.
All such thoughts were whirling
through his head. It was an impeccable,
painless plan. However, it was also the
largest operation ever attempted by the Crynak Coalition, and this preyed upon
the mind of the Quarren. Captain Ugora
sat with his insipid orange hands folded over his grey tunic. There was little to do except wait. His wing commander, Lieutenant Ledrev, had
already been launched with a wing mate to escort the three warships to the
hyper point and beyond. At the moment,
the Y-wing fighter-bombers were being loaded with their payload. Prey bird fighters from Vandal Squadron, that
made their home aboard the End Horizon, were being outfitted with the
faster, better tracking ADV missiles for anti-fighter combat. Overall, thirty-six fighters would be sent to
deal with the Rebel station and its defenses.
Y-wings from the Star Hunters would take out static defenses, turbo
lasers, and the station itself with their heavier warheads. The Supa fighters, led by Ledrev, would deal
with capitol ship reinforcement and assist in providing cover for the bombers. The Prey birds would engage the fighter
screen, making sure the Y-wings would be able to deliver their payload
unhindered. A total of four-hundred and
fifty-six warheads would be delivered to the Dantooine outpost. Ugora had little doubt that a series of gun
platforms, a station, and twelve A-wings would be nothing more than an
irritation.
The captain adjusted his shoulder
tabs absent mindedly, before standing up and tugging his black tunic down
through his belt. He rested his hands on
the golden buckle that clasped his leather belt. Running his finger over the Crynak insignia
on it, he walked down the two steps towards the helm. Ugora scanned over the helm’s control screen,
taking note of the time until their jump.
They were holding station, just one kilometer away from the jump. At full speed, the dreadnaught would reach
the hyper point in less than fifteen seconds, taking into account the
acceleration time. What with the Frigid Claw safely away, it was now his turn to take his battle group into
the far away Dantooine space. The End Horizon
could leave anytime she wished. At last,
her captain harnessed his thoughts, and gave the command to depart.
“Chief, take us to the hyper
point. Three-quarter speed. Communications, inform the gun ships and the
Supa fighters that it’s time to be off,” Captain Ugora ordered. The helmsman pushed the large throttle lever
forward slowly, easing the dreadnaught up to seventy-five percent power. To the chief’s right, the communications
officer was busy carrying out his order.
Ugora listened intently to what was said over the radio.
“Corellian gun ships Thunder and
Lighting- it’s time to move out. Go on
our command. Do you read? Over.” A
diminutive sputter came over the speakers, and the commanding officer of the Thunder answered.
“Commander Kutock here. Ah, we’re all locked down here, ready to go.”
Ugora nodded gently, as his communications officer transmitted coordinates to
Ledrev and his wing. The officer typed a
series of numbers dentifying “Dantooine” into a keypad, after selecting
Ledrev’s group, and pressed send. Ugora
looked out a portal in time to see Ledrev and his wing all veer in sync,
jetting towards the hyper point. They
would reach the destination ahead of the group, making sure to secure the
area. A series of white flashes and the
fighter wing had vanished. Delaying the
jump for another minute, Ugora ordered a rapid transmission back to the
asteroid base, informing them of their departure. In seconds the controller had logged it, in
advance, and Captain Ugora quickly walked back to his chair. Settling in comfortably, he nodded at the
helmsman.
“Engage the hyper-drive.” Captain
Ugora motioned forward with his hand.
The bright red engines of the dreadnaught roared to life, sitting
between the white engines of the gun ships.
Behind them, Captain Palziz sat watching them silently, enjoying the
chance of another mission. The End Horizon’s
glow grew in intensity, and then three ships departed one by one, into the
hyper space.
“And the battle begins . . .,”
Palziz muttered. He was smiling, eyes
intensely gaping through the main portal of his command deck. Cale was deeply fond of combat, and he now
had been sent into deep space patrol.
Once there, he was authorized to do almost anything he wished, within
the interests of the Crynak Coalition.
His orders were to head out to the Corellian Run, a major trade route
where commercial traffic was abundant.
However, he would parallel this lane, shadowing it only to pick off the
convoys from the list that had been given to him. Though he would have Juvran and the Razor’s Edge to assist him, this was a particularly dangerous task he had
been appointed to. There would be no
place to repair his ship or its fighters if an attack should go ill. He hoped to find a few repair yards along the
way that were not sympathetic to the Republic, but he could not count on
it. He had to assume that they were on
their own. Most planets or stations near
the Outer Rims were beyond the reach of the