![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
|
||||||||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
||||
|
|
|||||||||||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
||
|
Chapter 20 |
![]() |
||
|
|
|||
|
CHAPTER TWENTY:
Professor Arthur Sunrider twitched his ears and glanced up from one of the
equipment pits onboard the OSSUS
REMEMBERED. “Empress, admiral,” he called. “We’ve cleared the outer
radiation halo.”
“Open the energy blinds.” Sonchu ordered coolly,
taking his seat in command. As he did so, the rows of metallic shades over the
windows folded open in parallel patterns. With a rumbling mechanical hum, they
pulled away from the windows entirely, revealing to the bridge the strange
patterns of stars beyond.
“Our ships are accelerating to attack speed, Admiral.” A bereted
officer beside the diminutive professor called. “Very
good,” the admiral praised, glancing up at the large panoramic viewing ports
which allowed him clear visuals of the battle outside. “Professor, what are our
readings on se—“ he froze after a moment though, his
eyes widening at the sight he was greeted by.
The Rebel fleet outside was following a preset chain of orders,
banking away from a dead-on run toward any Imperial defense force assigned to
the DEATH STAR and following one of several specific attack corridors that took
advantage of the least fortified firing arcs of the enemy ships. But from the
information Sonchu had gathered, this stranded DEATH STAR was supposed to be
relatively undefended. To his amazement and horror, that turned out not to be
the case, as he could clearly see a pair
of Executor-class command ships and deuce smaller
Imperators pointing menacingly toward his incoming attack force.
Sunrider piped up from the sensor pit, “A—admiral—!”
Sonchu didn’t move, his large eyeballs
fixated on the terrifying spectacle. “I see it. We all see it . . .”
“O—orders, sir?”
Violet glanced at the admiral, “Shouldn’t
we be shooting?”
Sonchu was unable to banish haunting thoughts of the Massacre of
Endor from his mind. Like his father, he had unwittingly guided his troops to a
battle that had suddenly revealed itself much more than anyone had anticipated.
“I—it’s a . . . trap.” He managed, turning around and pounding an open channel
communiqué to the rest of the fleet, “all
ships fall back, fall back!”
Even as the order echoed out to the fleet, emerald bolts of
turbolaser fire began to hail from the Imperial ships, the element of surprise
now fully lost. Vessels of all sorts, from the smallest snub fighters to the
mightiest heavy-handed starcruisers pulled up and away, turning from the
impending fray as a stampede of wild animals spooked by the howl of a predator.
But some ships continued brazenly onward, ignoring the admiral’s
command, all of them painted with the distinct jade emblem of the Green Berets.
Though the turbolaser bolts pelted at them, the ships dumped all the power they
could into their ion engines, barreling forward at full thrust in a rash attempt
to burst through the line of fire drawn by the Imperial cruisers. The huge orb
of the DEATH STAR loomed in the distance, tilted at a strange angle relative to
their approach, the prize of the audacious Green Berets if they survived long
enough to claim it. “Sonchu!” Chauv’s voice echoed over the bridge
speakers, “don’t be a fool! The Rebel
Alliance will never have a chance like this again!”
“We don’t have sufficient firepower to even contest one Super Star Destroyer, challenging two would be insanity!”
Violet frowned, “well, then we’ll have to neutralize them, ne?”
Sonchu whirled around, visibly irritated by Violet’s failure to
grasp the seriousness of the situation, “why
yes,” his voice was cutting, “that would be
perfect.”
The Empress nodded and turned to Aris, who had taken position in
one of the tactical pits behind the command floor. “Aris,”
The other Amazon turned and nodded. “Hananosei.”
Sage nudged the admiral. "What
the hell does that mean?" ————————————
Down in the belly of the
OSSUS REMEMBERED, Kithain Tiharr and a squadron of rather green looking
pilots were getting ready to board a squadron of B-Wings and head out to give
the Rebel fleet some support. Sam Stone was sitting atop his skipray blastboat a
ways away, taking a bite out of a field ration and looking through the magcon
field to open space.
One of the twin Super Star Destroyers was clearly visible outside
and the pearl-peppered ebony cloth of space was alive in the distance with green
and red laser bolts, sprinkled with small yellow explosions in the dark void of
battle. It was just about time for this space pirate to make his exit; he was in
no mood to get involved in this little piece of insanity.
Stone
was too consumed with thoughts of the battle and the
best way for him to make a discreet exit to notice Kithain approach from across
the launch bay. When he heard his friend call from below, he glanced down with a
blank expression.
Kithain looked up at him, “hey, uh Sam . . .”
“Hey Kit.”
Tiharr ran a hand through his fiery red mane, “Well uh . . . I’m
headin’ out. We could use a little extra fighter support.”
The pirate frowned, “you know my price.”
Kithain raised an eyebrow at him. "You're kidding me, right?
After all that, you're back to the mercenary thing . . ."
“Well, yeah it’s my job after all.” He shrugged.
Kithain shook his head, "yeah, I know. We'll I'm not going to ask
you to fight for something you don’t believe in, Stone. We're still clear of the
Imperial fighter group. If you're going to turn tail and run, now's the time to
do it." He motioned to the magcon field.
Sam glared at his friend, “oh so you think I'm coward now, is
that it?”
"If you're going to go, go. I've got a bomber squadron to lead."
He took another bite of his ration, “well fine maybe I'll do
that.” "Yeah. Well, good luck, Sam. Maybe I'll see you around." Kithain
glanced at the looming form of the TYRANT
in the distance. "Maybe."
Stone growled, “Fine . . . I’ll give you a discount.”
Kithain turned and started back toward the fighter group. "I've
never hired mercenaries to fight my causes for me. I'm not about to start."
“Don't be such a baby,” Sam spat. “I'm
offering to cut my price by . . .” he paused to rub his chin, “hmm . . . fifty
percent and that’s as low as I go.”
"Goodbye, Sam."
Stone twitched his tail irately and sighed, “Fine
fine, I’ll do it.”
Kithain turned around to look at him with a toothy grin, "Good.
You do still know how to fly a bomber,
right?"
“Puh,” Stone spat, “I ain't flyin' no bomber. I'm flying my ship.”
Kithain turned a withering glance to the
VENGEANCE, noting with skepticism the patchwork of replacement hull plates
and rusty blaster cannons; although it might have been a brand new prototype
when Sam stole it, it now resembled more of something scrounged up from a used
discount spaceyard. “I'm not sure how well that heap of yours is going to hold
up against these new TIEs the Imps are fielding . . .”
Stone jumped on the comment immediately, “Shut
up, my ship is perfect!”
"Alright, alright," Kithain held up his hands with a smirk. He
wouldn’t push him if that was the way he wanted it. "The ship is perfect . . .
got it." ————————————
One of the larger Amazon cruisers shifted from left to right
across her beam and a loading bay slid open. Bereft of the luxuries of a magcon
field, the bay decompressed explosively, kicking free anything inside. A wash of
hazy yellow light surged from the opening as a strange looking object pushed
free from the ship through the quickly venting atmosphere. Just over
three-tenths of a kilometer long with a large bulb on an end, it gleamed a dull
purple in the dim light from the system’s distant star. The bay doors, serving
their purpose, swept shut silently in the void and once clear of her mothership
the strange craft fired its maneuvering drive and moved slowly, inconspicuously
clear of the fleet.
As it did so legions of TIE starfighters which had been
patrolling a protective perimeter around the DEATH STAR began swooping over the
forces of Sonchu’s retreating fleet even as they struggled to escape the range
of the Imperial star destroyers’ larger gun turrets. But like fireflies drawn to
a light, the Green Berets that had broken away from the rebel fleet at large
continued to press their engines to their limits to pass the defending line of
star destroyers and assault the DEATH STAR head on. Seemingly ignorant of the
shear wall of emerald fire oozing off the Imperator-class warships, the strike
craft bored in, bright pinpoints of light flaring as one by one their number
dwindled. Try as they did, even with the support of a pair of Mon Calamari MC
80’s and a hodgepodge of other vessels, the deadly super-heavy turrets aboard
the Imperial ships cut holes in Feno’s assault line with little problem.
The shields of the first Mon Calamari cruiser fell within
seconds, an unrelenting volley of turbolaser fire at first tearing up through
one of its fins and then through the heart of the cruiser, exploding the
fishlike ship into a small yellow sun and sending flaming debris in all
directions. Even as the other large cruisers scrambled to answer the Imperial
assault with their own rain of fire, pelting the huge Imperial daggers with as
much punishment as they could muster, they only had enough firepower to inflict
light damage to some of the smaller Imperator Star Destroyers, the bristling
Executor-class command ships remained relatively untouched.
Onto this massacre of a battle zone Kithain and his squadron
emerged from the OSSUS REMEMBERED, leading a group of five
B-Wing bombers escorted by a trio of patched-skin X-Wings. Rounding out the
group was Sam Stone aboard the unwieldy but powerful blastboat VENGEANCE, who glanced at Kithain through
his cockpit window before pulling into formation.
There was a garbled shout about the general withdrawal ordered by
Admiral Sonchu Ackbar from the battle zone over COMM system. However Kithain’s
response was curt, and to some may have seemed insubordinate, “I’m not one to run away from a fight. If the admiral doesn’t like it, he
can drag us back on tractors. Otherwise shut up and let us do our job.” He
cut out the command net channel before the controller could respond; no squadron
leader ever wanted to be tuned into that frequency
during battle. Instead he flicked the controller over to the preset scrambled
frequency for his fighter group, “All wings report in.”
“Red Three,” the first reply came in the standard two word
acknowledgement that the pilot was issuing an ok report. “Red Two.” “Red Eight.”
“Blue Two.”
“Blue Nine.”
“Blue Six.”
There was a pause after that and the pilots that could see Sam
through their cockpits glanced at him in earnest.
Kithain punched a button on his COMM, “Sam?” “Yeah?”
“What’s your status?”
“Oh, I’m fine, thank you.”
The fighter group gave a light chuckle at that. In the manner of
all pilots everywhere there were a few grumbled replies about civvies wannabes
relieving pent up tension in the group.
Kithain smirked and shook his head, “Alright everyone, we’re
going to fly in low beneath the firing arcs of the closest Imperial ship, try to
knock out some of the large guns and ease up the pressure on the Berets. X-Wing
group, keep your eyes glued to the scopes and keep any eyeballs off us long
enough to make a strafing run. Follow Stone’s lead.”
With the end of those orders the attack group increased their
acceleration full throttle, their ion drives flaring as extra power poured into
them, bringing the group fully up to combat speed. The closest member of the
Imperial armada grew larger ahead as they approached, the HUDs of various
fighters scrolling range and targeting information across the view of the
pilots. Once in range, one of the X-Wing pilots called for the others to lock
their S foils in attack position, prompting the three pointed fighters to unfurl
into their distinctive “X” formation.
“I’ve got six squints on my scopes, coming in fast!” An officer
called.
“Switch on deflectors, double back,” Kithain snapped. “Blue
group, stay on course. Sam, make sure your men keep them off our flank but don’t
drift too far from—”
“—Mr. Stone what the hell
are you doing?” A shout echoed from the line, it was Red Two gaping
in earnest at he watched Sam abruptly break formation and head out straight
toward the approaching group of TIEs.
“Stone!” another pilot called, “those are
interceptors are you nuts?”
The space pirate paid the group little mind as he armed a high
yield warhead and locked in the coordinates of the approaching squadron.
“Sam,” Kithain called, “what
are you doing?”
"I'm baking a cake,” he quipped. “What
does it look like I’m doing!?” He
squeezed the missile off into the middle of the TIE pack, the simple computer
brain aboard it detonating when it sensed the mass that was the Interceptor
group. It vanished in a bright and eerily silent orange plume, vaporizing two of
the fighters and knocking the other four wildly off course. A pair of them
collided, adding more to the fireworks show, but once the remaining two
stabilized they circled around and began a strafing run directly on the fighter
group. The explosion caught the attention of two other Imperial starfighter
groups and they turned abruptly, coming down to spin at Sam’s ship while
spitting rapid bolts of deadly fire.
“I’m going to draw their fire!” Sam announced in a tone somewhat
akin to heroic.
“The hell you are.” Kithain growled,
pulling his bomber out from the front of the group and looping back. “Blue
group, continue your course, Red group take care of those fighters. Looks like
I’m going to have to save your tail yet again, Stone.” “What?!” Sam shouted over the line, “There was
never a first time!”
Kithain’s oddly shaped fighter pulled back, the spaceframe
groaning in protest at the punishment it was receiving as it turned over to aim
its launch bay in the general direction of the approaching swarm of TIE Fighters. He dropped a trio of bombs and then pulled back abruptly,
letting their momentum carry the unpropelled explosives on their course. “I
suggest you get clear, Sam,” he called over the line. He was still pushing the
bomber as hard as he dare, sending it into a skidding loop in the opposite
direction as Stone’s skipray blastboat arced under to follow.
Seconds later, three small novas flared to life through space,
the blinding flares of white light backlit the Interceptors for a brief moment
before engulfing the starfighters. Debris flew in every direction, what pieces
of the interceptors that did not simply vaporize were sent
spinning off into space, glowing white hot and leaving only trails of ionic dust
in their wake.
“Hell, now that’s an
explosive.” Sam nodded, steadying his ship even as the shockwave from the
detonation rolled over it.
“They’re not designed to be used in open space.” Kithain said
witheringly, “Those babies were intended to bust through the hull of an Imperial
star destroyer. That’s three more heavy guns we won’t be able to take out thanks
to you . . .”
“Yeah well I didn’t need
your help anyway, Kit.”
“Face it Sam, I saved your life
yet again.”
“Dammit! There was never
a first time!”
“Blue Leader this is Red Two, we’re beginning our strafing run!”
“I copy, Red Two,” Kithain replied, pulling his fighter around so
he could get a good view of the now distant star destroyer. The squadron was a
half dozen kilometers away, tiny spots against the grey mesh hull of the
Imperial cruiser. It was obvious that the Imperial gunners had decided to ignore
the insects they thought the small group of bombers to be, forgetting lessons
that their fellows had learned over the years as they continued to gun for the
larger capital ships.
The two watched for several tense moments, their eyes sharp for
any flares expanding from the cruiser’s side. “Three
Away.” A second later, the first flare
erupted on the planar white surface of the Imperial ship, dying almost
immediately in the vacuum of space and leaving behind charred and breached hull
plating were turbolaser mounts once stood.
“Nine
Away.” There was another flare, this one penetrating deep into the
hull. It did not die quickly, instead setting off a fountain of orange plasma
from the breach, flared by the escaping oxygen of the molten geyser.
“Blue Six
Aw—“
“Kit,
look!” Sam shouted over the channel.
“Yeah, I know,” Kithain said proudly. “They’re
doing good.”
“No,
you idiot. Look to port.”
Kithain turned slightly to look at Sam and then
shifted the orientation of his fighter to face the direction his friend had
indicated. He expected to find another squadron of TIEs bearing down on them,
but instead a much more spectacular sight surprised him. A bright white flash
burst through his cockpit window, blinding him for a moment. He snapped his eyes
shut and squinted out painfully into white space. Some strange contraption,
several kilometers away and obviously of Amazon design, had just squeezed off
what looked like a tsunami of energy toward one of the larger and more distant
Super Star Destroyers. “What
the—?!” ————————————
The weapon slammed headlong into the belly of the TYRANT, its energy coruscating over her shields in a brilliant
display before overloading them in a spectacular flash of collapse. The mighty
command ship rocked as its inertial dampers and anticoncussion fields strained
to cope with the tremendous impact, even as the sheer force of the blow caused
the heaving Super Star Destroyer to list to one side.
Inside the TYRANT’s
main hangar, the hapless
GALACTICA swayed violently in her
moorings as support crews scrambled to secure her with tractor beams; the effort
was far too late, however. Four of the support claws holding the smaller star
destroyer sheared away with a horrific scream of metal, the bow of the GALACTICA smashed into the wall of the
bay as she swung free, stabbing deep into her mother ship with a hail of small
explosions before vaporizing entirely in a catastrophic fireball.
Those locked in battle outside the vessel paused for a moment,
watching in awe as a ten-kilometer long gout of superheated plasma spewed from
the underside of the TYRANT, the entire surface of the ship
darkening as she lurched violently out of control.
Admiral Khal'Saad found himself thrown violently against a
bulkhead only to rebound away in freefall. The entire bridge plunged into
darkness, the air was thick with ozone and the frightened barks of his
men. "Captain Ferris, report!" he shouted, his
voice slicing through the chaos. "Power failure, milord Admiral!” Ferris said brokenly, “I don't . . .”
the emergency batteries engaged, cutting off the captain mid-sentence as the
artificial gravity returned, sending him and the rest of the crew to the deck.
"No need to state the obvious, captain," Sher growled as he rose
to his feet. "What caused it? Nothing short of a superlaser could disrupt our
systems like that."
Ferris slipped off the command deck and into one of the control
pits, pushing past two men to get a look at some readouts, "whatever it was, I'm
getting no response at all from . . ." he gaped in shock "section four hundred and below.” He took a
breath, “milord, a large portion of the mass of this ship is missing. Our entire deflector grid has
collapsed. I'm reading massive hull
breaches shipwide; power surges, structural failures . . . main reactor
failsafes have engaged; we are running on emergency power only. Navigation is
not responding. Secondary power units will take a few moments to come online . .
."
"Secondary power appears to be the least of our concerns,
captain." Khal'Saad voice came dryly. Ferris looked up to find him staring out
the main viewing ports, his expression grim. The armored surface of the DEATH
STAR was filling the windows completely and growing noticeably closer by the
moment.
The captain went ashen. The rest of the bridge crew paused in
their tasks, the realization of what was about to happen spreading among them
like a wave. "Milord,” Ferris ventured, his voice shaking as he made the
pronouncement, “we appear to be caught in the DEATH STAR's gravitational well .
. . without main power, we won't be able to pull free at present velocity. Our
repulsor drive systems are not responding."
Khal'Saad turned away from the window, his face set. "Are our
tractor beams operational, captain?"
"I—" Ferris blinked and checked one of the computer readouts,
"yes, sir, I have green lights on our dorsal emplacements . . ."
Khal'Saad's voice was icily calm. "Divert all power to those
emplacements, captain. Everything. Set their lock point at two degrees off the DEATH
STAR’s horizon relative, in line with her rotation. Maneuvering thrusters stand
by for my command. Execute when ready." "Yes, milord!" Ferris moved quickly, dispensing
Khal'Saad's orders to the tractor crews; in no rush to die. They knew as much as
the admiral that time would be of the essence if they wanted to live to see
another day. Once prepared, Ferris nodded to the admiral, “ready,”
The DEATH STAR loomed ever closer, and Khal’Saad took a breath. "Do it."
Like a swimmer fighting against the torrent of a violent stream,
the TYRANT reached out with her tractor beams
and clamped down onto the massive battlestation’s armored surface. Another
terrible groan of twisting metal sounded from within the command ship’s heart
and the deck shuddered. Officers exchanged fearful glances, at once thinking the
sheer stress would tear their crippled vessel into pieces.
Khal’Saad’s even gaze remained fixed on the DEATH STAR even as
it’s momentum began to pull his ship out of the station’s path, aided by what
little maneuvering thrust the crippled vessel could muster. The grey orb grew
larger still and soon some details of the surface began to resolve themselves
from the vast grey mesh.
It was several moments before the command ship cleared the metal
moon’s surface with barely two kilometers to spare, trailing wreckage in her
wake. The growing image of control towers and turbolaser turrets gave way to a
passing stable orbit, and Admiral Khal’Saad turned back to face his crew, their
relief evident on their faces.
"Repair what deflector systems are salvageable and angle them to
cover any gaps in our defense grid,” Sher said stolidly. “Com-Scan, begin
blackout operations the moment you get power.
Communications?"
Ferris shook his head, "disabled for the moment, milord.
ETR seventeen minutes." Khal'Saad nodded. "Signal our situation to all commands when possible. We aren't out of the battle yet, captain." |
||
|
|
|||
|
Chapter 20 |
![]() |
||
Star Trek vs Star Wars - The
Furry Conflict™
[ STORYLINE |
AUDIO DRAMA |
BACKSTAGE |
FAN FICTION |
COMMUNITY |
PRESS |
MERCHANDISE ]