This is my first attempt at a fanfic. Comments criticisms more than welcome. Hopefully it's not too amateurish for this audience. Thanks!
-SN
Victory Rising
He walked down the corridor to his quarters. Captain Bes Amell nodded to the members of his crew as he passed them. It was reflexive. His mind was solely occupied with his duties and divided amongst the two looming items; the upcoming assault against Lianshi II, the Officer Evaluation Reports that were already weeks past due. In all honesty, he was mostly worrying about the assault. He had issued his orders for preparations days ago and they were nearing completion well ahead of schedule. The Atreyan Legacy would likely be the first Venator in her squadron to stand ready.
He had been using the assault as an excuse to avoid doing the reports. Captain Amell hated paperwork. In his quarters, he sat at the desk and began pouring over the data pad efficiency stats delivered to it. Knowing it would take him several hours to finish, he rang his steward and ordered a light snack.
*****
Commander Mifune stepped into the lift, exiting the landing bay. The starfighters were secured and the Atreyan Legacy was standing by to receive the last of her armaments for the coming deployment. She looked down the bay as the doors closed and saw the Clone Troopers assigned on board as marines assisting the ordinance loaders. She sighed. Clones, obedient, compliant, loyal and utterly unnatural. Sad that the Republic had come to this, employing clones.
The lift doors slid open on the bridge deck. She stepped out quietly and into the briefing room. Shahara Mifune sat at her position at the conference table and accessed the dataterm embedded in the table. Lianshi II would be a fight. The entire system had been peppered with Golan platforms, the planet was well fortified with defense guns, planetary orbit was saturated with mines and that didn’t even bring into account the system defense fleet which had been reinforced with CIS capital ships. There was still no accurate count to the fleet yet. Most of the static defenses had been noted, but they kept that damnable fleet on the move.
She stood and headed to the bridge, the captain would likely have more orders for her. Whatever they were she would take care of them after she checked on the progress of the engineering section. They were busy replacing the alluvial dampers in the ships power relays.
The bridge had the quiet hum of an efficient machine. Personnel were at their positions attending to their duties. Commander Ozzel sat in the command chair attending to the ship’s data feeds and reports, the tactical feeds were running informational data only. Mifune narrowed her eyes. Ozzel at the con? That was a bit unusual Captain Amell would normally summon her to the bridge.
“Kendal,” she addressed him, “where’s the captain?”
Ozzel looked up at her with some annoyance. He rarely had the con and was relishing the time in the chair. “He’s in his quarters, finishing some OERs. I offered to com you when he went but he told me to take the con” Ozzel grinned at that. He almost felt like it was a snub against her, as if the captain was beginning to favor him over her.
“Very well, thank you for offering to com me, though.” She smiled back at him. She was waiting to enjoy his reaction when the communications officer called out.
“Con, Commo! Priority traffic, Release authorization Captain or XO only!”
“I suppose I’ll get this. Relax Kendal.” She walked over to the communication station and looked at the screen. The ensign was correct. She plugged her datapad into the transfer receptacle and moved the message over to it.
“Inform the captain that I have this and that I am on my way to his quarters.”
“Yes, Commander.”
*****
Bes Amell looked at the evaluation report in front of him. It was thoroughly adequate. Which was sad. There was absolutely nothing in it to say “this officer excels at something”. In fact it had several remarks in it that indicated a lack of fitness to progress.
“Lack of imagination”.
“Extremely close minded, frequently refuses to accept recommendation of subordinates”.
“Better suited to support functions”.
Captain Amell resisted the notion of adding a couple. One leaped immediately to mind: “probably has more teeth than brain cells”. He chuckled, then sighed. Commander Kendal Ozzel wasn’t really a bad sort, just not very agile. Mentally or physically. Amell shook his head and digitally signed the report. No additions, humorous or otherwise. It was as complete as it could be. He reflected on Ozzel. The man wasn’t stupid. Further reflection corrected this. Amell noted that Ozzel was stupid, just not in such an unredeemable fashion that he couldn’t learn, if he chose to do so. Still, it was obvious that he chose not to learn. His constant references to his uncle, Admiral Hessera at the Office of Naval Personnel (ONP) and his cousin, Senator Gutten from his home planet of Carida pointed out the obvious. Ozzel expected to make rank by virtue of familial connections, not merit. Reviewing his docket and the past OERs, he thought perhaps that was what had happened already.
Amell’s compad chimed, startling him out of his thoughts. He reached over to open the com, “Yes?”
“Sir, comms, XO is on the way down with priority traffic.”
“I see. Thank you, Commo. Captain out.” He flipped the switch closing the connection.
He sat back. Must be orders for squadron rally point and time.
Bes Amell rang his steward again, “Kiv, I need a tray of Caff with enough crem and zuuck for myself and the XO.”
“Yes sir, I will have it for you immediately.”
*****
Mifune stood before her captain’s door. She checked her uniform before chiming. All in order. She reached up and pressed the summon key.
The door speaker replied, “Enter”, in the captain’s voice and the door slid aside.
She stepped into the room and paused. It was slightly dimmer in here than the corridor so she waited for her eyes to adjust. While she did, she inhaled deeply and smiled. Caff. He knew her too well. The eight years she had served under him had allowed them both to learn the other. At the same time, she had learned all the things she needed to advance to a ship command of her own soon.
Bes stood before the serving tray with a packet of crem in his hands and looked at her as he opened it with a sssss-pop.
“Message for you, sir.”
He poured the crem and handed the cup of cremed caff to her as he accepted her datapad. “Have you keyed it yet?”
“No, sir. You were up and Ozzel has the con, so I saw no hurry. It wasn’t marked with any urgency codes, only privacy.”
Amell smiled and nodded. Shahara was an excellent XO. She had been passed over the last two promotion cycles and he was starting to think there was some unwritten policy against women at ONP. Still, he wasn’t complaining. She kept his ship in good order.
“Well, then. Let’s see what we have, shall we?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pad key. Slipping it into her data pad, he announced, “Release authorization, Bes Amell, Captain, code 311-Alpha-Oscar-201-194”.
The pad beeped once, the screen flashed green for a moment then displayed the message. He walked over to his chair, face changing from curious interest to disappointed frown as he read.
The XO sipped her caff. “What is it? Change of orders for the Legacy ?”
“You could say that. You and I are being reassigned to another ship, Ozzel is being promoted to captain and is taking the Legacy to Lianshi II with the Squadron.”
“What? Ozzel in command? Is NavPer insane?” She shook her head, “And what are we getting? An Acclamator? If they are putting Ozzel in charge here we must have screwed up bad somewhere. So a troopship would-“
“Take it easy, Sha!” He cut her off and used the diminutive of her first name. Using her first name was a rare enough occasion, but using the short version was enough to completely stop her. “No, it’s not an Acclamator. We are getting a Victory.”
“A line combatant. Better than an assault carrier. Still the Victories are slugs, if things turn, we don’t get away to fight another day.”
“Well, normally I would agree. But we’re being assigned to the Victory Rising, she’s the first of the block 40 ships.”
“I saw the brief on them. No missile launchers, they’ve all been replaced with ion cannon. Supposed to be a bit more spry than the block 20s with engine upgrades. So, when?”
“Immediately. Make preparations for the promotion ceremony and change of command. And pack in your copious free time.”
She set down her caff and smiled at her captain, “Aye, sir.” She turned to leave.
“And Sha?” he said, stopping her on her way out.
“Sir?”
“Sorry about the missed promotion. Again.”
“To each, their time, Bes. It’s disappointing, but not discouraging. I like working as your XO.” With that, she turned and attended her new duties with a real sense of urgency.
The captain summoned his steward. “Kiv, pack your gear, we are being transferred.”
Victory Rising
Moderator: LadyTevar
-
Setesh
- Jedi Master
- Posts: 1113
- Joined: 2002-07-16 03:27pm
- Location: Maine, land of the Laidback
- Contact:
You caught my interest. Don't worry about amatuer writing, we've certainly seen worse, after all most of us have read Portal(shudder) .
"Nobody ever inferred from the multiple infirmities of Windows that Bill Gates was infinitely benevolent, omniscient, and able to fix everything. " Argument against god's perfection.
My Snow's art portfolio.
My Snow's art portfolio.
-
Spiny Norman
- Redshirt
- Posts: 19
- Joined: 2005-06-30 04:44pm
Victory Rising 2: A Summons
The arrowhead shape darted through the atmosphere, crack of the sonic boom echoing across the lush, green landscape long after it passed overhead. Scuffed and battered, the old Jedi starfighter looked to be on it’s last legs. The R9 unit locked into the droid receptacle whirred constantly as it monitored and adjusted the starfighter’s systems.
In the cockpit Ven-Kata Kotur eyed the displays and adjusted his course. His target was just ahead. The complex nestled against the small ridge was displayed on the sensor readout. Some effort had been made to camouflage it, but the military grade sensors in the fighter could clearly see it, including the YT-1200 light freighter parked on the landing pad next to a Rendili VS910 Stiletto sport yatch.
“Just what I was looking for.” Ven-Kata muttered in clipped basic. Kotur nosed the craft into a steep dive while deploying the air-brakes, in seconds the tiny fighter slipped into the subsonic realm. No need to inform his hosts that they would have a visitor. In just a few minutes, he dropped from 120,000 meters to less than 20 with little reduction in speed. He was just barely subsonic, yet his reflexes had little problem preventing him from impacting the side of a hill or copse of trees.
Kotur circumnavigated the complex below tree level over 80 kilometers out and slowly approached the ridge. He set down on the other side of the ridge, little more than 2 kilometers distant. He set all the systems to standby and opened the canopy. The warm humid air flooded in. It was almost stifling, fortunately, it wasn’t much more than his body temperature and his home planet had been much worse. In fact, this environment made him slightly nostalgic for his distant childhood. He stood, shaking out his loose clothing and allowing the fabric to breathe.
He stepped onto the wing and closed the canopy. “R9, wait for my signal and then lift off and rendezvous. Just follow the signal I send.” The droid blatted out it’s assent. “Remind me to have you fitted with a vocoder, I would rather understand you than guess.”
He began the trek up the ridge. The soft dirt and thick foliage made the journey more difficult than on most any other planet he had been on recently. The incline increased sharply and the trees and brush thinned. He could again see the sky. Local vermin scurried away as he approached or buzzed by him. As he approached the top, the sound of powerful engines reached him. The VS910 lifted straight up over the ridge, turned and soared away with an almost defeaning roar. The engines in those sport yatchs were powerful and could outrun most anything except ships with milspec powerplants. It made no difference. He knew where to find this particular Hutt. Nar Shadaa wasn’t so fortified, regardless of what the Hutts thought.
At the top he cautiously looked over into the compound below. The light freighter sat in the open area of a horseshoe defined by the extending fingers of the ridge and the buildings built into them. Guards were patrolling the landing grid and the outer perimeter. No guards were on the ridge…no surveillance gear set up to monitor the ridge. Sloppy work. Ven-Kata noted the inclines and determined that the best access would be down at the last building bordering the grid. Immediately he started circumnavigating the ridge.
*****
“Five hundred thousand in start up capital? Is the fat slug stupid? I mean, does he really expect me to put up that much?” the smuggler complained to his partner. Del Trifa walked across the tarmac to the lowered ramp of the YT-1200. His partner, Giffin Vangis, accompanied him. They were dressed as befitted their profession. Comfortable clothes, with blasters slung low on their legs.
“You got me.” Said the Zabrak. “I think he was expecting you to counter-offer something lower, not tell him to sod off. You got him in a nice snit with that one. Hope he doesn’t cancel those orders, though.”
“He won’t cancel. He wants those weapons. We’re the only ones that can deliver as fast as he orders.”
Their conversation continued as the walked up the ramp into the freighter.
*****
Ven-Kata crouched behind a small boulder near the last building just below the ridge. He watched the guards patrolling. No random patterns, just nice regular intervals at a nice regular pace.
“Very sloppy.” He muttered.
As he watched a small rockslide started on the other side of the landing grid. The guards spotted it and they all began a light trot over to the disturbance, weapons at the ready.
Ven stood and quietly slipped down the hill onto the permacrete pad. He quickly made his way to the freighter while watching the guards investigate the slide. Two began to scale the hill while the other guards provided cover. He stepped onto the ramp, guards still occupied with the rock slide. Very sloppy.
Stealthily, Ven padded up the ramp. He knelt at the top and listened, slowly tuning out noise from outside. There, conversation. Must be in the hold. Standing, he took in the ship, assessing likely defensible points and weaknesses should this become messy. Nothing special, the top was the best place from his current view. He softly entered the corridor and gradually made his way to the hold. Passing another corridor, he paused to look down. Light through the windscreen illuminated the cockpit. Two seats, but otherwise empty. The intruder quietly turned from the cockpit entryway and through another hall. The door to the cargo hold stood open. The loading doors were open as well, light spilling in from the outside. Two men worked the loading cranes and lifters, moving transport crates to line up with the loading mandibles.
Must be getting ready to off-load this cargo. He looked at one of the crates, “Merr-Sonn Munitions, Zllon Repeating Blaster, Count:12, Item No: 114112877/B, Lot No: 34272” Yes, this is what I have been looking for.
“We’ll get this loaded in the stores then head off and pick up a load of that spice the slug wants us to move.” Trifa stated.
“I don’t think so.”
The smugglers froze and looked at each other. Del Trifa looked at the Zabrak and arched an eyebrow. Slowly they stood and turned to face the intruder. “And who would you be, stranger?”
“This equipment will stay aboard, Trifa, and I’ll return it to the Republic. In the meantime, you gentlemen, and I use the term loosely, can tell me who your supplier is. We already have your buyer, so that’s the only piece we are missing.”
“You have us at a disadvantage.” Trifa said.
“Cascuda puvincee!” spat the Zabrak.
Ven-Kata Kotur smiled. He knew what was coming next. It always did. The Zabrak’s hand flashed to his blaster pistol, drew and fired. Fast, thought Ven as his own hands came up with snap-hsssssss. A flash of light as the blaster bolt deflected from the blade back to its source. Vangis was moving to take cover. The reflected bolt caught him full in the face, burning through flesh and bone and boiling the tissue in the skull. Before he even realized he was going to die, his cranium popped like an overboiled egg and spewed steaming brain matter across the hold.
Trifa’s hand was on it’s way to his own blaster, but stopped at the sight of his partner, now headless, slumping to the deck. He looked back at the Jedi, the lightsaber was pointed directly at him.
“I won’t tell you anything. If I do, I’m dead, no matter where you put me.”
“No worries! There are Jedi far more suited to extracting information than I. Sleep.” Ven said, and with a slight Force nudge Trifa staggered and slumped over a crate, sound asleep.
Working quickly and quietly, Ven closed the loading doors and stepped over to Trifa. From within his robes, he produced binders and applied them to Trifas legs and wrists, firmly secured behind his back. Connecting the two sets of binders was a metal rod preventing any movement.
He walked back to the entry ramp, raised it and sealed the lock.
In the cockpit he quickly began powering the freighter and prepping for takeoff.
*****
Outside, the guards stopped investigating the rockslide and turned as the engines spooled up on the freighter. They stood in silent confusion as the ship rose up and powered into the sky.
*****
“R9, rendezvous at L2.”
“Bleep”
“What does that…oh never mind, just get there.”
*****
At the predetermined point in space the small fighter was waiting as the freighter drifted in. The astromech droid docked the fighter to the larger ship and then cycled through the airlock.
Once inside, the droid rolled to the cockpit and plugged into a receptacle. Information displayed on the screen in front of Ven.
“A message? Well, play it.”
The cylindrical head of the droid turned and pointed a lens at an open space on the deck. Shortly, a Twi’lek male appeared, slightly jagged around the edges as Holonet signal degradation caused image problems. He was dressed in Jedi robes.
“Colonel Kotur, this is a priority message from the Jedi Council. You are to proceed immediately to Assembly Point Gustaf in the Vermeer system where you will take control of Task Force 2-61 aboard the R.S.S Victory Rising. Acknowledge receipt, soonest. DisCom.” The image disappeared.
Kotur sat back, shaking his head. “I really do not like commanding massed forces. I wish they wouldn’t put me in these positions. Very well. R9, send acknowledgement, Kotur, Covenant 6-6, DisCom.”
Colonel Kotur started programming the freighters auto-pilot to jump back to the Nawakin depot where the Republic investigation team was currently working. Jump in, transmit a priority message to system authorities requesting assistance.
“R9, priority message to Jedi Pavess at Nawakin. YT-1200 inbound, transponder ID:JXZ414327998, craft name Fortunate Son. Craft contains misappropriated property and the information to further this investigation. Good hunting, and sorry about the mess.”
In the cockpit Ven-Kata Kotur eyed the displays and adjusted his course. His target was just ahead. The complex nestled against the small ridge was displayed on the sensor readout. Some effort had been made to camouflage it, but the military grade sensors in the fighter could clearly see it, including the YT-1200 light freighter parked on the landing pad next to a Rendili VS910 Stiletto sport yatch.
“Just what I was looking for.” Ven-Kata muttered in clipped basic. Kotur nosed the craft into a steep dive while deploying the air-brakes, in seconds the tiny fighter slipped into the subsonic realm. No need to inform his hosts that they would have a visitor. In just a few minutes, he dropped from 120,000 meters to less than 20 with little reduction in speed. He was just barely subsonic, yet his reflexes had little problem preventing him from impacting the side of a hill or copse of trees.
Kotur circumnavigated the complex below tree level over 80 kilometers out and slowly approached the ridge. He set down on the other side of the ridge, little more than 2 kilometers distant. He set all the systems to standby and opened the canopy. The warm humid air flooded in. It was almost stifling, fortunately, it wasn’t much more than his body temperature and his home planet had been much worse. In fact, this environment made him slightly nostalgic for his distant childhood. He stood, shaking out his loose clothing and allowing the fabric to breathe.
He stepped onto the wing and closed the canopy. “R9, wait for my signal and then lift off and rendezvous. Just follow the signal I send.” The droid blatted out it’s assent. “Remind me to have you fitted with a vocoder, I would rather understand you than guess.”
He began the trek up the ridge. The soft dirt and thick foliage made the journey more difficult than on most any other planet he had been on recently. The incline increased sharply and the trees and brush thinned. He could again see the sky. Local vermin scurried away as he approached or buzzed by him. As he approached the top, the sound of powerful engines reached him. The VS910 lifted straight up over the ridge, turned and soared away with an almost defeaning roar. The engines in those sport yatchs were powerful and could outrun most anything except ships with milspec powerplants. It made no difference. He knew where to find this particular Hutt. Nar Shadaa wasn’t so fortified, regardless of what the Hutts thought.
At the top he cautiously looked over into the compound below. The light freighter sat in the open area of a horseshoe defined by the extending fingers of the ridge and the buildings built into them. Guards were patrolling the landing grid and the outer perimeter. No guards were on the ridge…no surveillance gear set up to monitor the ridge. Sloppy work. Ven-Kata noted the inclines and determined that the best access would be down at the last building bordering the grid. Immediately he started circumnavigating the ridge.
*****
“Five hundred thousand in start up capital? Is the fat slug stupid? I mean, does he really expect me to put up that much?” the smuggler complained to his partner. Del Trifa walked across the tarmac to the lowered ramp of the YT-1200. His partner, Giffin Vangis, accompanied him. They were dressed as befitted their profession. Comfortable clothes, with blasters slung low on their legs.
“You got me.” Said the Zabrak. “I think he was expecting you to counter-offer something lower, not tell him to sod off. You got him in a nice snit with that one. Hope he doesn’t cancel those orders, though.”
“He won’t cancel. He wants those weapons. We’re the only ones that can deliver as fast as he orders.”
Their conversation continued as the walked up the ramp into the freighter.
*****
Ven-Kata crouched behind a small boulder near the last building just below the ridge. He watched the guards patrolling. No random patterns, just nice regular intervals at a nice regular pace.
“Very sloppy.” He muttered.
As he watched a small rockslide started on the other side of the landing grid. The guards spotted it and they all began a light trot over to the disturbance, weapons at the ready.
Ven stood and quietly slipped down the hill onto the permacrete pad. He quickly made his way to the freighter while watching the guards investigate the slide. Two began to scale the hill while the other guards provided cover. He stepped onto the ramp, guards still occupied with the rock slide. Very sloppy.
Stealthily, Ven padded up the ramp. He knelt at the top and listened, slowly tuning out noise from outside. There, conversation. Must be in the hold. Standing, he took in the ship, assessing likely defensible points and weaknesses should this become messy. Nothing special, the top was the best place from his current view. He softly entered the corridor and gradually made his way to the hold. Passing another corridor, he paused to look down. Light through the windscreen illuminated the cockpit. Two seats, but otherwise empty. The intruder quietly turned from the cockpit entryway and through another hall. The door to the cargo hold stood open. The loading doors were open as well, light spilling in from the outside. Two men worked the loading cranes and lifters, moving transport crates to line up with the loading mandibles.
Must be getting ready to off-load this cargo. He looked at one of the crates, “Merr-Sonn Munitions, Zllon Repeating Blaster, Count:12, Item No: 114112877/B, Lot No: 34272” Yes, this is what I have been looking for.
“We’ll get this loaded in the stores then head off and pick up a load of that spice the slug wants us to move.” Trifa stated.
“I don’t think so.”
The smugglers froze and looked at each other. Del Trifa looked at the Zabrak and arched an eyebrow. Slowly they stood and turned to face the intruder. “And who would you be, stranger?”
“This equipment will stay aboard, Trifa, and I’ll return it to the Republic. In the meantime, you gentlemen, and I use the term loosely, can tell me who your supplier is. We already have your buyer, so that’s the only piece we are missing.”
“You have us at a disadvantage.” Trifa said.
“Cascuda puvincee!” spat the Zabrak.
Ven-Kata Kotur smiled. He knew what was coming next. It always did. The Zabrak’s hand flashed to his blaster pistol, drew and fired. Fast, thought Ven as his own hands came up with snap-hsssssss. A flash of light as the blaster bolt deflected from the blade back to its source. Vangis was moving to take cover. The reflected bolt caught him full in the face, burning through flesh and bone and boiling the tissue in the skull. Before he even realized he was going to die, his cranium popped like an overboiled egg and spewed steaming brain matter across the hold.
Trifa’s hand was on it’s way to his own blaster, but stopped at the sight of his partner, now headless, slumping to the deck. He looked back at the Jedi, the lightsaber was pointed directly at him.
“I won’t tell you anything. If I do, I’m dead, no matter where you put me.”
“No worries! There are Jedi far more suited to extracting information than I. Sleep.” Ven said, and with a slight Force nudge Trifa staggered and slumped over a crate, sound asleep.
Working quickly and quietly, Ven closed the loading doors and stepped over to Trifa. From within his robes, he produced binders and applied them to Trifas legs and wrists, firmly secured behind his back. Connecting the two sets of binders was a metal rod preventing any movement.
He walked back to the entry ramp, raised it and sealed the lock.
In the cockpit he quickly began powering the freighter and prepping for takeoff.
*****
Outside, the guards stopped investigating the rockslide and turned as the engines spooled up on the freighter. They stood in silent confusion as the ship rose up and powered into the sky.
*****
“R9, rendezvous at L2.”
“Bleep”
“What does that…oh never mind, just get there.”
*****
At the predetermined point in space the small fighter was waiting as the freighter drifted in. The astromech droid docked the fighter to the larger ship and then cycled through the airlock.
Once inside, the droid rolled to the cockpit and plugged into a receptacle. Information displayed on the screen in front of Ven.
“A message? Well, play it.”
The cylindrical head of the droid turned and pointed a lens at an open space on the deck. Shortly, a Twi’lek male appeared, slightly jagged around the edges as Holonet signal degradation caused image problems. He was dressed in Jedi robes.
“Colonel Kotur, this is a priority message from the Jedi Council. You are to proceed immediately to Assembly Point Gustaf in the Vermeer system where you will take control of Task Force 2-61 aboard the R.S.S Victory Rising. Acknowledge receipt, soonest. DisCom.” The image disappeared.
Kotur sat back, shaking his head. “I really do not like commanding massed forces. I wish they wouldn’t put me in these positions. Very well. R9, send acknowledgement, Kotur, Covenant 6-6, DisCom.”
Colonel Kotur started programming the freighters auto-pilot to jump back to the Nawakin depot where the Republic investigation team was currently working. Jump in, transmit a priority message to system authorities requesting assistance.
“R9, priority message to Jedi Pavess at Nawakin. YT-1200 inbound, transponder ID:JXZ414327998, craft name Fortunate Son. Craft contains misappropriated property and the information to further this investigation. Good hunting, and sorry about the mess.”
Dinsdale!
-
Spiny Norman
- Redshirt
- Posts: 19
- Joined: 2005-06-30 04:44pm
Victory Rising 3: Change of Command
The Clone Trooper battalion was formed up on one side of the bay in full armor. The ship’s crew, only about 800 of the total complement, was on the other side in dress uniform. The small Drakis class shuttle parked at the edge of the bay next to the atmospheric retaining field. All the fighters that would fit were stacked in the transport racks. The remainder of the ARC-170s flew escort in formation and were visible outside the Atreyan Legacy. A small podium had been erected at the back bulkhead next to the lift and on either side of it were hanging the Republic’s flag and the Legacy’s standard. Next to the Clone Trooper commander, the standard bearer held a smaller Republic flag and next to Commander Ozzel, an ensign held the counterpart, a matching sized edition of the ship’s standard.
Crowding the personnel, off to one side of the bay, one of the massive SPHA-Ts stood. Its feet locked down to tie-downs on the hangar deck plating, it was oriented to face out into space through the open bay door, the massive energy cannon nearly extending through the retaining field. Commander Mifune regarded the overall scene with some satisfaction. Only 3 hours ago she had learned of the transfer. Now, the scene was set and almost all of the players on the board for this little drama.
Commander Ozzel stood near the podium in his dress uniform. He was obviously nervous. Mifune had told no one what the preparations were for and neither had the captain. The ship-board rumor mill was going berserk with speculation and guesses as to what the ceremony was to be. Ozzel had obviously heard some of the rumors and they ranged from decommission of the Legacy to promotion for the captain to reassignment to the Capital Sector Fleet.
The lift doors opened and Captain Amell stepped out in full dress. Mifune snapped to attention and shouted, “Captain on deck! Atten-shun!” As though they comprised a single entity, all personnel present went to attention. The captain quietly, but briskly walked to the podium and stood behind it before releasing the assembled crew from the position. “Be at ease.” He glanced around the bay. Every being there was focused on him. Amell looked over at Mifune and nodded. She reached to a comm panel on the wall and keyed it to open microphone, “Attention all personnel, this is Commander Mifune. Please stand by for important announcements and notifications from the Captian. Carry on all duties, but remain attentive.”
“Thank you, Commander Mifune. I have held command of this fine vessel for just over three years now. Some of you have been here for that time. Most have not, having joined us along the way. We have seen some action as the battle streamers attached to the ships standard denote. We have performed well and each and every one of you have served the Republic with distinction and honor.
“Together, we have worked to make this ship one of the finest and most proficient in the fleet. You have all made me very proud. I expect each and every one of you to carry on in this manner. The Atreyan Legacy has a legacy of her own to continue and a destiny to fulfill.
“Commander Ozzel, attention!” Ozzel, with a bewildered look on his face, reflexively went to attention at the command. Captain Amell walked over to him, Mifune a step behind and to his right with a datasheet and small wooden box in her hand. Ozzel stood sharply at attention, eyes straight ahead, allowing nothing to break his composure. Amell held out his hand and Mifune placed a datasheet in it. He stopped to the right side of Ozzel and Mifune stepped past him to Ozzel’s left side and execute a smart about-face.
Amell glanced at the datasheet before continuing. “Attention to Orders! By order of the Republic Navy, Office of Naval Personnel, the Senate and by the will and confidence of the People of the Galactic Republic, Kendal Ozzel, you are hearby advanced to the rank of Captain, and ordered to discharge the duties and responsibilities commensurate with said rank.” He handed the datasheet, a copy of the promotion orders, to Captain Ozzel and shook his hand while quietly congratulating him. Ozzel mumbled through a thank you with a stunned looked of disbelief gracing his features.
As though they had rehearsed Commander Mifune held up the wooden box, lid open to Captain Amell. Amell deftly plucked the new rank insignia from the inside of the box. He removed the commander rank from Ozzels epaulets and replaced them with the captains rank before depositing the old rank within the box. Mifune closed the box after Amell placed the old rank within and handed it to Ozzel with a quiet, “Congratulations, Captain.” Ozzel seemed to swell slightly as the reality of his promotion began to set in. A small smile crept across his face.
Amell stepped back from Ozzel, performed an about-face and returned to the podium. Before he could completely take his place, Mifune was in her position behind him. He silently thanked the powers-that-be that she would remain with him and not aboard the Legacy. “Congratulations, Captain Ozzel!” Amell intoned and began clapping. The applause was immediately taken up by the assembled troops and naval personnel.
Captain Amell allowed the applause to go on for a few seconds before he shouted, “Attention to Orders!” The applause stopped so abruptly that it was almost stunning. Everyone in attendance immediately resuming the position of attention. “By order of the Republic Navy, Office of Naval Personnel, the following personnel are hereby relieved of duty and transferred to the Victory Rising: Captain Bes Amell, Commander Shahara Mifune. Captain Kendal Ozzel, you are hereby directed to take command of the Atreyan Legacy and stand ready as part of Task Force 2-59. No further change of orders to the Atreyan Legacy.”
Captain Amell turned to Captain Ozzel and saluted. “Captain Ozzel, upon these orders, I do hereby relinquish command and responsibility of the Atreyan Legacy to you. I charge you with her care and maintenance in the Name of the People of the Galactic Republic.”
Ozzel performed a half-right-face and saluted in return. “Captain, you are relieved and may continue to your next station confident in the state in which you have left this vessel. I accept command from you, Sir.” If only I could, Amell thought.
“May the Force be with you, Captain, and the Atreyan Legacy.” Amell said.
“May the Force be with you, and the Victory Rising, Captain.” Ozzel replied. Then, both slowly released their salutes.
At that the crew present applauded further. Most who knew Ozzel, simply applauded their departing captain. Others clapped because it was expected.
*****
With the assistance of a young ensign, Kiv had the Captains gear, his own and Commander Mifunes moved to the shuttle on a cart, even while troopers and naval personnel were still streaming out of the hangar bay. Further assistance was gained by some of the senior ships officers and non-commissioned officers waiting near the shuttle to give Captain Amell their final farewells. Upon seeing the large repulsor cart loaded with duffels, attaches and cases, they immediately pitched in and began loading the Drakis even though the all still wore their dress uniforms.
Amell was conferring with Ozzel while Mifune walked over to the shuttle. The various officers and non-coms began shaking hands and bidding their farewell to her. She picked up a satchel off the cart and removed the note that read “Do Not Load In Cargo”. There were some personal effects and an historical novel about the Knights of the Republic she was reading. It would provide something to do during the transit to the Victory Rising.
Ozzel conferred with Amell taking last minute instructions on where the ship’s standing orders were. Captain Amell informed him that his XO would arrive within the day as none of the crew aboard had either the experience or time in grade to warrant a promotion. Even as they stood in a wartime footing, the available pool of personnel aboard the Legacy just was not senior enough for an accelerated promotion.
Amell saluted Ozzel before turning to depart and staring over to the shuttle. Ozzel did not accompany him to the shuttle, instead turned toward the lift to head to his quarters to start moving his kit into the captains bunk. As he did, he grabbed a Clone Trooper NCO by the arm and spouted his first orders as the Legacy’s new captain, “Sergeant, I want that artillery piece moved back to the storage bay and readied for loading into the assault landers.”
“Yes sir, I’ll see to it immediately.”
Bes Amell stopped and turned to watch, but the exchange was already over. Still, he had caught the gist of it. He continued to the Drakis shaking his head in disbelief. At the shuttle the small crowd around him queued up to shake his hand and say goodbye. Amell had been a good captain to these people and the old-timers remembered.
Slowly, they trickled away and he climbed the ramp to the passenger cabin with Mifune.
“What were you shaking your head about on the way over to the shuttle, Bes?”
“Oh, it was Ozzel. He ordered the SPHA-T,” he pronounced it sfat, “back to the storage bay and to be readied for the assault lander. Pity. I had hoped he would see the usefulness of having the extra firepower available…even if it was in a fairly limited firing arc.”
Mifune settled into her seat. “Ozzel will make his own decisions and choose his own destiny. You can’t stop him or anyone else.”
“I know. Enough.” He dismissed the conversation from his mind. “More pressing things will await aboard the Victory Rising. Of that, I am certain.”
**Edit: Corrected the SPHA-T acronym.
Crowding the personnel, off to one side of the bay, one of the massive SPHA-Ts stood. Its feet locked down to tie-downs on the hangar deck plating, it was oriented to face out into space through the open bay door, the massive energy cannon nearly extending through the retaining field. Commander Mifune regarded the overall scene with some satisfaction. Only 3 hours ago she had learned of the transfer. Now, the scene was set and almost all of the players on the board for this little drama.
Commander Ozzel stood near the podium in his dress uniform. He was obviously nervous. Mifune had told no one what the preparations were for and neither had the captain. The ship-board rumor mill was going berserk with speculation and guesses as to what the ceremony was to be. Ozzel had obviously heard some of the rumors and they ranged from decommission of the Legacy to promotion for the captain to reassignment to the Capital Sector Fleet.
The lift doors opened and Captain Amell stepped out in full dress. Mifune snapped to attention and shouted, “Captain on deck! Atten-shun!” As though they comprised a single entity, all personnel present went to attention. The captain quietly, but briskly walked to the podium and stood behind it before releasing the assembled crew from the position. “Be at ease.” He glanced around the bay. Every being there was focused on him. Amell looked over at Mifune and nodded. She reached to a comm panel on the wall and keyed it to open microphone, “Attention all personnel, this is Commander Mifune. Please stand by for important announcements and notifications from the Captian. Carry on all duties, but remain attentive.”
“Thank you, Commander Mifune. I have held command of this fine vessel for just over three years now. Some of you have been here for that time. Most have not, having joined us along the way. We have seen some action as the battle streamers attached to the ships standard denote. We have performed well and each and every one of you have served the Republic with distinction and honor.
“Together, we have worked to make this ship one of the finest and most proficient in the fleet. You have all made me very proud. I expect each and every one of you to carry on in this manner. The Atreyan Legacy has a legacy of her own to continue and a destiny to fulfill.
“Commander Ozzel, attention!” Ozzel, with a bewildered look on his face, reflexively went to attention at the command. Captain Amell walked over to him, Mifune a step behind and to his right with a datasheet and small wooden box in her hand. Ozzel stood sharply at attention, eyes straight ahead, allowing nothing to break his composure. Amell held out his hand and Mifune placed a datasheet in it. He stopped to the right side of Ozzel and Mifune stepped past him to Ozzel’s left side and execute a smart about-face.
Amell glanced at the datasheet before continuing. “Attention to Orders! By order of the Republic Navy, Office of Naval Personnel, the Senate and by the will and confidence of the People of the Galactic Republic, Kendal Ozzel, you are hearby advanced to the rank of Captain, and ordered to discharge the duties and responsibilities commensurate with said rank.” He handed the datasheet, a copy of the promotion orders, to Captain Ozzel and shook his hand while quietly congratulating him. Ozzel mumbled through a thank you with a stunned looked of disbelief gracing his features.
As though they had rehearsed Commander Mifune held up the wooden box, lid open to Captain Amell. Amell deftly plucked the new rank insignia from the inside of the box. He removed the commander rank from Ozzels epaulets and replaced them with the captains rank before depositing the old rank within the box. Mifune closed the box after Amell placed the old rank within and handed it to Ozzel with a quiet, “Congratulations, Captain.” Ozzel seemed to swell slightly as the reality of his promotion began to set in. A small smile crept across his face.
Amell stepped back from Ozzel, performed an about-face and returned to the podium. Before he could completely take his place, Mifune was in her position behind him. He silently thanked the powers-that-be that she would remain with him and not aboard the Legacy. “Congratulations, Captain Ozzel!” Amell intoned and began clapping. The applause was immediately taken up by the assembled troops and naval personnel.
Captain Amell allowed the applause to go on for a few seconds before he shouted, “Attention to Orders!” The applause stopped so abruptly that it was almost stunning. Everyone in attendance immediately resuming the position of attention. “By order of the Republic Navy, Office of Naval Personnel, the following personnel are hereby relieved of duty and transferred to the Victory Rising: Captain Bes Amell, Commander Shahara Mifune. Captain Kendal Ozzel, you are hereby directed to take command of the Atreyan Legacy and stand ready as part of Task Force 2-59. No further change of orders to the Atreyan Legacy.”
Captain Amell turned to Captain Ozzel and saluted. “Captain Ozzel, upon these orders, I do hereby relinquish command and responsibility of the Atreyan Legacy to you. I charge you with her care and maintenance in the Name of the People of the Galactic Republic.”
Ozzel performed a half-right-face and saluted in return. “Captain, you are relieved and may continue to your next station confident in the state in which you have left this vessel. I accept command from you, Sir.” If only I could, Amell thought.
“May the Force be with you, Captain, and the Atreyan Legacy.” Amell said.
“May the Force be with you, and the Victory Rising, Captain.” Ozzel replied. Then, both slowly released their salutes.
At that the crew present applauded further. Most who knew Ozzel, simply applauded their departing captain. Others clapped because it was expected.
*****
With the assistance of a young ensign, Kiv had the Captains gear, his own and Commander Mifunes moved to the shuttle on a cart, even while troopers and naval personnel were still streaming out of the hangar bay. Further assistance was gained by some of the senior ships officers and non-commissioned officers waiting near the shuttle to give Captain Amell their final farewells. Upon seeing the large repulsor cart loaded with duffels, attaches and cases, they immediately pitched in and began loading the Drakis even though the all still wore their dress uniforms.
Amell was conferring with Ozzel while Mifune walked over to the shuttle. The various officers and non-coms began shaking hands and bidding their farewell to her. She picked up a satchel off the cart and removed the note that read “Do Not Load In Cargo”. There were some personal effects and an historical novel about the Knights of the Republic she was reading. It would provide something to do during the transit to the Victory Rising.
Ozzel conferred with Amell taking last minute instructions on where the ship’s standing orders were. Captain Amell informed him that his XO would arrive within the day as none of the crew aboard had either the experience or time in grade to warrant a promotion. Even as they stood in a wartime footing, the available pool of personnel aboard the Legacy just was not senior enough for an accelerated promotion.
Amell saluted Ozzel before turning to depart and staring over to the shuttle. Ozzel did not accompany him to the shuttle, instead turned toward the lift to head to his quarters to start moving his kit into the captains bunk. As he did, he grabbed a Clone Trooper NCO by the arm and spouted his first orders as the Legacy’s new captain, “Sergeant, I want that artillery piece moved back to the storage bay and readied for loading into the assault landers.”
“Yes sir, I’ll see to it immediately.”
Bes Amell stopped and turned to watch, but the exchange was already over. Still, he had caught the gist of it. He continued to the Drakis shaking his head in disbelief. At the shuttle the small crowd around him queued up to shake his hand and say goodbye. Amell had been a good captain to these people and the old-timers remembered.
Slowly, they trickled away and he climbed the ramp to the passenger cabin with Mifune.
“What were you shaking your head about on the way over to the shuttle, Bes?”
“Oh, it was Ozzel. He ordered the SPHA-T,” he pronounced it sfat, “back to the storage bay and to be readied for the assault lander. Pity. I had hoped he would see the usefulness of having the extra firepower available…even if it was in a fairly limited firing arc.”
Mifune settled into her seat. “Ozzel will make his own decisions and choose his own destiny. You can’t stop him or anyone else.”
“I know. Enough.” He dismissed the conversation from his mind. “More pressing things will await aboard the Victory Rising. Of that, I am certain.”
**Edit: Corrected the SPHA-T acronym.
Dinsdale!
-
Spiny Norman
- Redshirt
- Posts: 19
- Joined: 2005-06-30 04:44pm
Victory Rising 4: Assembly Point Gustaf
Streaks of light shortened to thousands of pinholes of light. Three small points shone brighter than their countless confederates. The Vermeer binary system was as bleak as any other lifeless system, and as strategically and tactically worthless as anyone could imagine. It’s only real value was as a staging area. Long range sensors displayed on the screen multitudes of ships in orbit around the lone planet in the system, a massive gas giant.
The small ship slowed, reaction thrusters venting forward. Slowly, it reoriented itself. In the cockpit, Ven-Kata Kotur looked at the readouts. He sighed with resignation. He would find a way to get into some ground action. Naval action was definitely not his cup of toff. Speaking of which, he hadn’t had any in several days and definitely wasn’t happy about it. That would be the first order of business once he arrived aboard the Victory Rising. Mmmm, he could taste it already, lightly sweetened toff, perhaps a strong Corellian blend or one of the savory Tanis toffs? Yes, one of those.
“R9, plot a direct course to the Victory Rising and signal priority docking request. Also signal them for recovery of the hyper ring.”
The sublight engines on the Jedi starfighter flared to life and the craft leaped forward heading to its rendezvous.
*****
“Con, Scans! Small craft inbound at high speed. IFF indicates Jedi starfighter!”
“Scan, Con. Acknowledged. Commo, get the Jedi on the horn and indicate priority for docking.”
“Aye, sir. They are already requesting that and they need recovery of their hyper-section.”
“Right, have a recovery crew go get it. Make certain there’s a spot for the fighter. Have the recovery crew store it in the lander bay.”
Lieutenant Commander Fenz Recara sat in the captains chair on the bridge of the R.S.S. Victory Rising. He looked forward to the day when he might command such a ship, but for now was anxiously awaiting the arrival of the ship’s captain. This Jedi would not be the captain. Curiousity nagged slightly to determine the Jedi’s purpose aboard the ship, but he knew that he would find out soon enough.
Recara used the communications panel on his chair to call the commander of the Clone Trooper company aboard. “Colonel, there is a Jedi coming aboard, please ensure there is an honor guard to greet him. ETA is about”, he glanced at the large tactical readout, “Twelve minutes.”
“Very well, Lt. Commander. I’ll have a squad there.”
Recara stood. “Jaffries, you have the con.” He turned and walked out, not waiting for the acknowledgement.
The tiny snub fighter slowly entered the bay, the atmospheric shielding faintly playing over the hull like a miniature lightning storm. If he hadn’t been in the cockpit of the tiny fighter, he probably would not have noticed it, more than a couple feet away, it would not have even been visible. Ven-Kata looked out the cockpit and marveled, yet again at the energies playing across the hull of his little ship. It always fascinated him to see such a demonstration.
He brought himself out of the reverie and looked across the deck. There, the deck officer was flagging him with his guide wands. Ven powered up the repulsorlift and steered over to the deck officer who was leading him to a tiny spot behind one the vessel’s shuttles. He followed the deck officer’s instructions and delicately steered the craft down into the corner. As he set the starfighter down, he noticed a naval officer and squad of Clone Troopers. “Hmmm, R9 perform the power down and final checks.”
The canopy lifted and Ven stepped out onto the wing. The officer stepped forward. Ven saluted, “Captain, permission to come aboard?”
Recara returned the salute and the Troopers all snapped to attention, “Of course, sir. Welcome aboard the Victory Rising.”
The Jedi hopped down from the fighter and smiled. “Thank you, Captain?”
“Recara, sir. Lt Commander Recara.”
“Oh? The captain, then? He is on the bridge?”
“No sir. I am captaining the Victory Rising until her new commander arrives. I’ll have one of the crew move your things to your quarters?”
“Thank you, just a small duffle with a few changes of clothes in the parts bin at the rear of the fighter. R9 will provide access. I am supposed to take command of the task force, Captain. Let us go to the CIC and review the current status and orders.”
“Sir!”
*****
The Drakis exited hyper well within view of Vermeer’s gas giant. Amell turned his attention out the viewport. Ships rested in relative orbit around the planet as far as he could discern. Some were clearly identifiable, while others were simply dots that moved against the black background of space. Amell could readily identify Venators, Acclamators, Victory (block 10 and block 20 vessels) class and even a few of the Dreadnought class heavy cruisers. Most of the real heavies had been shifted to another operation. One that would hopefully break the back of the Separatist fleet.
Among the ships, fighters darted, practicing tactics, dogfighting and making mock attack runs against the assembling fleet. Occasionally, a group would dart out away from the ships, pause to start another simulation and then power in again. During these breaks, he could make out Delta 7 Jedi Starfighters, a few of the Eta 2 fighters, but overwhelming both types in sheer number were the V-19 Torrents and the ARC-170s. The Jedi Starfighters, both the Delta and the Eta types, were being mass manufactured and piloted by non-Jedi. The Republic saw no reason to waste an otherwise excellent fighter design on exclusivity. The Jedi Council, after some deliberation, had agreed.
As the shuttle approached the fleet formation, a pair of ARC-170s took up station next to the shuttle and escorted them in. This shuttle was not playing in the simulations and should be off the targeting systems of all the craft participating. In the excitement, some pilots might make a visual only run. The heavy ARC fighters were there to prevent any mishaps or near-misses.
The small Drakis shuttle slipped under the winglet of the Victory Rising and coasted toward the bay, the escorting fighters peeled off and returned to their maock battles. A tractor beam gently took hold of the shuttle, bringing it to a smooth stop and re-orienting it for entry into the landing bay. The pilot waited until he was released and given a go from the traffic control crew. Reaction thrusters pushed him into the main bay, through the retention field. He immediately spotted the deck officer pointing at him with his guide wands and used the reaction thrusters to steer towards him. At the same time, the co-pilot was bringing the repulsorlifts online.
The shuttle settled in so smoothly that Mifune didn’t even wake. She was reclined in her seat with her datapad on her lap, on and stopped on the seventh chapter of the novel she was reading. She continued to doze as Amell rose and collected his notes and other documentation.
He turned to the exit hatch as the copilot emerged from the cockpit and began to open the hatch and lower the egress ramp. “Commander, you best wake, we’ve arrived.” He announced. Mifune stirred, sat upright and yawned.
“Thanks, Captain.”
The copilot snapped to attention and saluted. “Good hunting, sir and thank you for flying Republic Starlines!” he quipped.
Amell cracked a smile and returned the salute, “Thank you, Lieutenant. It was a most comfortable flight. My compliments to you and your captain. Pity the flight ran short on zeenuts, though…and of course the holoprojector was broken, so no inflight entertainment. But otherwise it was excellent!” He stepped out of the hatch and started down the ramp. Mifune followed him after just a few seconds, snapping a quick salute as she passed the young officer.
At the bottom of the ramp stood a Lt Commander and a Jedi. The officer snapped to attention and saluted. Amell stopped at the base of the ramp, Mifune just a step behind and to the right. He returned the salute and said, “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”
“Granted, sir. And welcome.”
“Thank you. I’m Captain Bes Amell, this is my XO, Commander Shahara Mifune.”
“Sir, I am Lt Commander Fenz Recara and this is Jedi Ven-Kata Kotur. He currently holds the rank of Colonel in the Republic Army.” Amell and Mifune both nodded at the Jedi.
Kotur spoke, “Captain, according to the Jedi Council I am supposed to command this taks force. I am distinctly uncomfortable with naval operations, being versed in ground engagements and behind-the-lines actions. I will, of course, assist in any way you need, but I am going to cede operational control of the task force to you.”
Amell was surprised, and it showed. He recovered fairly quickly, though. “Thank you for the warning, Colonel. But I don’t even have command of the ship yet. Let’s discuss this after the XO and I settle in?”
“Of course, I just did not want to misrepresent my capabilities with you.”
“Also, sir, there are coded messages for you and Commander Mifune on the bridge. They are coded to the two of you personally.” Recara said. “I’ll have a detail move your kit to your quarters.”
“My steward will see to it. Make certain someone is available to assist and guide him.”
The doors to the bridge slid open and the three officers and Jedi entered. A young lieutenant spotted them enter and shouted out, “Captain on deck!” Everyone jumped up to attention.
“As you were.” Recara said. “Captain, the messages for you and Commander Mifune are still in the communications station.”
“Thank you.” He walked over to the communications station and plugged his datapad to receive the messages.
Mifune suddenly shouted, “Attention on deck!”
“Carry on.” Replied an unfamiliar voice, almost pre-emptively. None of the bridge crew had even managed to get to attention. Amell looked over towards the voice. An older Cathar in dress uniform walked onto bridge. Amell looked closer at the rank as he approached, a Vice-Admiral! The old Cathar walked over to the Jedi and shook hands. They spoke briefly and the Cathar walked to the bridge view ports, passing Amell in the crew pit. He nodded to Amell as he passed.
The Jedi spoke with Recara for a moment and then moved over to the Cathar, pulling some datasheets from within his robes. Amell watched with curiosity and a bit of concern. Jedi were frequently pursuing hidden agendas and this possibility worried him. He didn’t want that, not on his ship.
“Captain Recara, ship wide announcement please.”
There was a pop and brief crackle in the intercom system as Recara opened it to the entire ship and the computer system responsible for it automatically tuned out the bridge speakers.
“Captain Amell, Commander Mifune, fall in.” The moved quickly to stand in front of the Vice-Admiral, Amell directly in front and Mifune on his left. “This is Vice-Admiral Sikhuhai”, he pronounced it seek-hoo-ai, “attention to orders!” He announced. “By order of the Republic Navy, Office of Naval Personnel, the Senate and by the will and confidence of the People of the Galactic Republic, Bes Amell, you are hearby advanced to the rank of Commodore, and ordered to discharge the duties and responsibilities commensurate with said rank.” He removed the rank insignia from Amell’s epaulets and pinned on Commodore rank which he produced from his pocket. He then, stepped back, snapped a salute and handed Amell the promotion orders. Amell returned the salute and accepted the orders. “Commodore Amell, please assist me.
“Attention to orders! By order of the Republic Navy, Office of Naval Personnel, the Senate and by the will and confidence of the People of the Galactic Republic, Shahara Mifune, you are hearby advanced to the rank of Captain, and ordered to discharge the duties and responsibilities commensurate with said rank. You are further directed to take command of the Victory Rising and stand ready as part of Task Force 2-61. “
Vice-Admiral Sikhuhai and Commodore Amell removed the commander rank and replaced them with the captain rank that had been on Amell’s uniform just moments ago. Both flag officers stepped back and saluted, Sikhuhai handing the orders to Mifune as he did so. A stunned Amell congratulated Mifune, “Congratulations, Captain. So much for missed promotions!” She chuckled at the reference.
Sikhuhai looked at Recara and saluted, "Lt. Commander Recara, you have discharged your duties in a manner befitting that of a Republic Naval Officer. The Republic thanks you for your selfless service. You are hereby relieved of command. Job well done, Lt. Commander.
“Commodore, please resume your place.” Amell stepped back next to Mifune. “Attention to orders! Commodore Bes Amell, you are hereby directed to take command of Task Force 2-61 and stand ready to meet the enemies of the Republic and defeat them in battle. May the Force be with you Commodore Amell, and you Captain Mifune!”
“May the Force be with you Admiral!” The two replied in unison.
“Fall out.” The two turned to each other, looks of disbelief on their faces.
Kotur walked over to Amell, “I told you I was going to leave the task force to you, Commodore.”
“Your statement lead me to believe that you would continue as the actual commander, Colonel. That’s a pretty nice trick.”
“You know us Jedi. We are full of tricks!”
The small ship slowed, reaction thrusters venting forward. Slowly, it reoriented itself. In the cockpit, Ven-Kata Kotur looked at the readouts. He sighed with resignation. He would find a way to get into some ground action. Naval action was definitely not his cup of toff. Speaking of which, he hadn’t had any in several days and definitely wasn’t happy about it. That would be the first order of business once he arrived aboard the Victory Rising. Mmmm, he could taste it already, lightly sweetened toff, perhaps a strong Corellian blend or one of the savory Tanis toffs? Yes, one of those.
“R9, plot a direct course to the Victory Rising and signal priority docking request. Also signal them for recovery of the hyper ring.”
The sublight engines on the Jedi starfighter flared to life and the craft leaped forward heading to its rendezvous.
*****
“Con, Scans! Small craft inbound at high speed. IFF indicates Jedi starfighter!”
“Scan, Con. Acknowledged. Commo, get the Jedi on the horn and indicate priority for docking.”
“Aye, sir. They are already requesting that and they need recovery of their hyper-section.”
“Right, have a recovery crew go get it. Make certain there’s a spot for the fighter. Have the recovery crew store it in the lander bay.”
Lieutenant Commander Fenz Recara sat in the captains chair on the bridge of the R.S.S. Victory Rising. He looked forward to the day when he might command such a ship, but for now was anxiously awaiting the arrival of the ship’s captain. This Jedi would not be the captain. Curiousity nagged slightly to determine the Jedi’s purpose aboard the ship, but he knew that he would find out soon enough.
Recara used the communications panel on his chair to call the commander of the Clone Trooper company aboard. “Colonel, there is a Jedi coming aboard, please ensure there is an honor guard to greet him. ETA is about”, he glanced at the large tactical readout, “Twelve minutes.”
“Very well, Lt. Commander. I’ll have a squad there.”
Recara stood. “Jaffries, you have the con.” He turned and walked out, not waiting for the acknowledgement.
The tiny snub fighter slowly entered the bay, the atmospheric shielding faintly playing over the hull like a miniature lightning storm. If he hadn’t been in the cockpit of the tiny fighter, he probably would not have noticed it, more than a couple feet away, it would not have even been visible. Ven-Kata looked out the cockpit and marveled, yet again at the energies playing across the hull of his little ship. It always fascinated him to see such a demonstration.
He brought himself out of the reverie and looked across the deck. There, the deck officer was flagging him with his guide wands. Ven powered up the repulsorlift and steered over to the deck officer who was leading him to a tiny spot behind one the vessel’s shuttles. He followed the deck officer’s instructions and delicately steered the craft down into the corner. As he set the starfighter down, he noticed a naval officer and squad of Clone Troopers. “Hmmm, R9 perform the power down and final checks.”
The canopy lifted and Ven stepped out onto the wing. The officer stepped forward. Ven saluted, “Captain, permission to come aboard?”
Recara returned the salute and the Troopers all snapped to attention, “Of course, sir. Welcome aboard the Victory Rising.”
The Jedi hopped down from the fighter and smiled. “Thank you, Captain?”
“Recara, sir. Lt Commander Recara.”
“Oh? The captain, then? He is on the bridge?”
“No sir. I am captaining the Victory Rising until her new commander arrives. I’ll have one of the crew move your things to your quarters?”
“Thank you, just a small duffle with a few changes of clothes in the parts bin at the rear of the fighter. R9 will provide access. I am supposed to take command of the task force, Captain. Let us go to the CIC and review the current status and orders.”
“Sir!”
*****
The Drakis exited hyper well within view of Vermeer’s gas giant. Amell turned his attention out the viewport. Ships rested in relative orbit around the planet as far as he could discern. Some were clearly identifiable, while others were simply dots that moved against the black background of space. Amell could readily identify Venators, Acclamators, Victory (block 10 and block 20 vessels) class and even a few of the Dreadnought class heavy cruisers. Most of the real heavies had been shifted to another operation. One that would hopefully break the back of the Separatist fleet.
Among the ships, fighters darted, practicing tactics, dogfighting and making mock attack runs against the assembling fleet. Occasionally, a group would dart out away from the ships, pause to start another simulation and then power in again. During these breaks, he could make out Delta 7 Jedi Starfighters, a few of the Eta 2 fighters, but overwhelming both types in sheer number were the V-19 Torrents and the ARC-170s. The Jedi Starfighters, both the Delta and the Eta types, were being mass manufactured and piloted by non-Jedi. The Republic saw no reason to waste an otherwise excellent fighter design on exclusivity. The Jedi Council, after some deliberation, had agreed.
As the shuttle approached the fleet formation, a pair of ARC-170s took up station next to the shuttle and escorted them in. This shuttle was not playing in the simulations and should be off the targeting systems of all the craft participating. In the excitement, some pilots might make a visual only run. The heavy ARC fighters were there to prevent any mishaps or near-misses.
The small Drakis shuttle slipped under the winglet of the Victory Rising and coasted toward the bay, the escorting fighters peeled off and returned to their maock battles. A tractor beam gently took hold of the shuttle, bringing it to a smooth stop and re-orienting it for entry into the landing bay. The pilot waited until he was released and given a go from the traffic control crew. Reaction thrusters pushed him into the main bay, through the retention field. He immediately spotted the deck officer pointing at him with his guide wands and used the reaction thrusters to steer towards him. At the same time, the co-pilot was bringing the repulsorlifts online.
The shuttle settled in so smoothly that Mifune didn’t even wake. She was reclined in her seat with her datapad on her lap, on and stopped on the seventh chapter of the novel she was reading. She continued to doze as Amell rose and collected his notes and other documentation.
He turned to the exit hatch as the copilot emerged from the cockpit and began to open the hatch and lower the egress ramp. “Commander, you best wake, we’ve arrived.” He announced. Mifune stirred, sat upright and yawned.
“Thanks, Captain.”
The copilot snapped to attention and saluted. “Good hunting, sir and thank you for flying Republic Starlines!” he quipped.
Amell cracked a smile and returned the salute, “Thank you, Lieutenant. It was a most comfortable flight. My compliments to you and your captain. Pity the flight ran short on zeenuts, though…and of course the holoprojector was broken, so no inflight entertainment. But otherwise it was excellent!” He stepped out of the hatch and started down the ramp. Mifune followed him after just a few seconds, snapping a quick salute as she passed the young officer.
At the bottom of the ramp stood a Lt Commander and a Jedi. The officer snapped to attention and saluted. Amell stopped at the base of the ramp, Mifune just a step behind and to the right. He returned the salute and said, “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”
“Granted, sir. And welcome.”
“Thank you. I’m Captain Bes Amell, this is my XO, Commander Shahara Mifune.”
“Sir, I am Lt Commander Fenz Recara and this is Jedi Ven-Kata Kotur. He currently holds the rank of Colonel in the Republic Army.” Amell and Mifune both nodded at the Jedi.
Kotur spoke, “Captain, according to the Jedi Council I am supposed to command this taks force. I am distinctly uncomfortable with naval operations, being versed in ground engagements and behind-the-lines actions. I will, of course, assist in any way you need, but I am going to cede operational control of the task force to you.”
Amell was surprised, and it showed. He recovered fairly quickly, though. “Thank you for the warning, Colonel. But I don’t even have command of the ship yet. Let’s discuss this after the XO and I settle in?”
“Of course, I just did not want to misrepresent my capabilities with you.”
“Also, sir, there are coded messages for you and Commander Mifune on the bridge. They are coded to the two of you personally.” Recara said. “I’ll have a detail move your kit to your quarters.”
“My steward will see to it. Make certain someone is available to assist and guide him.”
The doors to the bridge slid open and the three officers and Jedi entered. A young lieutenant spotted them enter and shouted out, “Captain on deck!” Everyone jumped up to attention.
“As you were.” Recara said. “Captain, the messages for you and Commander Mifune are still in the communications station.”
“Thank you.” He walked over to the communications station and plugged his datapad to receive the messages.
Mifune suddenly shouted, “Attention on deck!”
“Carry on.” Replied an unfamiliar voice, almost pre-emptively. None of the bridge crew had even managed to get to attention. Amell looked over towards the voice. An older Cathar in dress uniform walked onto bridge. Amell looked closer at the rank as he approached, a Vice-Admiral! The old Cathar walked over to the Jedi and shook hands. They spoke briefly and the Cathar walked to the bridge view ports, passing Amell in the crew pit. He nodded to Amell as he passed.
The Jedi spoke with Recara for a moment and then moved over to the Cathar, pulling some datasheets from within his robes. Amell watched with curiosity and a bit of concern. Jedi were frequently pursuing hidden agendas and this possibility worried him. He didn’t want that, not on his ship.
“Captain Recara, ship wide announcement please.”
There was a pop and brief crackle in the intercom system as Recara opened it to the entire ship and the computer system responsible for it automatically tuned out the bridge speakers.
“Captain Amell, Commander Mifune, fall in.” The moved quickly to stand in front of the Vice-Admiral, Amell directly in front and Mifune on his left. “This is Vice-Admiral Sikhuhai”, he pronounced it seek-hoo-ai, “attention to orders!” He announced. “By order of the Republic Navy, Office of Naval Personnel, the Senate and by the will and confidence of the People of the Galactic Republic, Bes Amell, you are hearby advanced to the rank of Commodore, and ordered to discharge the duties and responsibilities commensurate with said rank.” He removed the rank insignia from Amell’s epaulets and pinned on Commodore rank which he produced from his pocket. He then, stepped back, snapped a salute and handed Amell the promotion orders. Amell returned the salute and accepted the orders. “Commodore Amell, please assist me.
“Attention to orders! By order of the Republic Navy, Office of Naval Personnel, the Senate and by the will and confidence of the People of the Galactic Republic, Shahara Mifune, you are hearby advanced to the rank of Captain, and ordered to discharge the duties and responsibilities commensurate with said rank. You are further directed to take command of the Victory Rising and stand ready as part of Task Force 2-61. “
Vice-Admiral Sikhuhai and Commodore Amell removed the commander rank and replaced them with the captain rank that had been on Amell’s uniform just moments ago. Both flag officers stepped back and saluted, Sikhuhai handing the orders to Mifune as he did so. A stunned Amell congratulated Mifune, “Congratulations, Captain. So much for missed promotions!” She chuckled at the reference.
Sikhuhai looked at Recara and saluted, "Lt. Commander Recara, you have discharged your duties in a manner befitting that of a Republic Naval Officer. The Republic thanks you for your selfless service. You are hereby relieved of command. Job well done, Lt. Commander.
“Commodore, please resume your place.” Amell stepped back next to Mifune. “Attention to orders! Commodore Bes Amell, you are hereby directed to take command of Task Force 2-61 and stand ready to meet the enemies of the Republic and defeat them in battle. May the Force be with you Commodore Amell, and you Captain Mifune!”
“May the Force be with you Admiral!” The two replied in unison.
“Fall out.” The two turned to each other, looks of disbelief on their faces.
Kotur walked over to Amell, “I told you I was going to leave the task force to you, Commodore.”
“Your statement lead me to believe that you would continue as the actual commander, Colonel. That’s a pretty nice trick.”
“You know us Jedi. We are full of tricks!”
Dinsdale!
-
Spiny Norman
- Redshirt
- Posts: 19
- Joined: 2005-06-30 04:44pm
Victory Rising 5: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?
The task force had been running drills for several days. The assault was to begin soon. Commodore Amell and his captains had the timetable. Vice-Admiral Sikhuhai had briefed Amell on the desired strategy and tactics during the assault. This was a big attack and it’s sole aim was to disable or destroy the Separatist’s only shipyard that could produce their Providence class ships. Lianshi II was still the target, and now Amell had more ships to worry about than just his own.
The crew of the Victory Rising was green, almost to a man. The Acheron, the only other Block 40 Victory in the task force was a mix of seasoned and green. Both of the other Victories, both Block 20 ships, were experienced, as were the two Venators. Captain Termillian of the Venator Swift Sword, arguably the most experienced and senior of the captains in the task force, had offered the Swift Sword as the task force flagship. Amell had politely declined, citing a desire to remain aboard the Victory Rising as an incentive to the crew to improve. That had mollified Termillian somewhat, but he still saw it as slight.
Amell keyed the commtab on his desk, “Lieutenant Zax, inform all commands that there will be an executive brief at 1900 hours in the Victory Rising’s ward room. At that time orders will be issued. Please ensure that there is plenty of water and some small snacks to go around.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Amell turned in his chair, “Do you think the plan might be a bit aggressive, Sir?”
“I think the plan will create confusion in the defenses. But the captains will appraise us of whether their ships are up to the challenge. I don’t think any will turn down the opportunity to show a couple flag officers what they can do!” Sikhuhai grinned.
*****
Kast Renai dropped into the maintenance space of the Gondar Magnus. The bulk freighter had been experiencing problems with it’s hyperdrive for a couple weeks now. Generally nothing serious, usually a failure to initiate the jump. The last problem had been on exiting hyper in the Lianshi system, or rather they hadn’t exited hyper in the Lianshi system. They were still in hyper and sailing light years past the system with every minute. Apparently, they hadn’t passed close enough to any planets or the primary to kill them.
“If these Super Battle Droids don’t get there on time, someone’s gonna get screwed. Probably me since I maintain all this drek”, Kast muttered. “Damn, we were already behind schedule too. Definitely no bonuses on this run.”
Kast thought it was probably the hyperdrive motivator that was flaking out. Of course the only way to determine that was to get in the maintenance spaces and get dirty.
He crawled through the underbelly of the freighter until he reached the hyperdrive system. Finding the heavy cables that led to the motivator he began tracing them down. Figures. Behind the hyperwave inverter. Too bad he wasn’t a contortionist, it would have made things so much easier. His girlfriend would have been impressed, too.
He clamped a torch to one of the conduits that ran through the crawlspace, focusing the beam on the motivator and then opened the panel on the motivator. The sight that greeted him wasn’t very cheerful. Something inside had overloaded and the panel was discolored from heat. All the indicator lights were out and there was no way to tell whether it even had power. Cursing silently, Kast pulled the sonic spanner from his tool pouch and used it to pop the cover off.
A bundle of wires, insulation melted, attested to the damage. He replaced the spanner and pulled out the test rig. He carefully checked each relay and connection. One after another, the showed green. Of all the connections to check, one was red. All of them, except the main power inducer in the motivator, were good.
Kast sighed and pulled out his compak. “Captain, this is Renai, the hyperdrive motivator is bad. It needs a new power inducer.”
“With that bad even the safeties won’t function properly. Do we have any aboard?”
“No, sir. Not this type. The backup hyperdrive has one but it’s not compatible.”
“Can you trigger it manually?”
“Well, I can try to bypass, but even if it works, it will trash the rest of the motivator.”
“Do it. The way our luck is running, if you don’t we’ll end up running straight into a gas giant or something.”
“Yes, sir.”
Kast laid the test rig on the ductwork next to the motivator and pulled out a set of wires with clips on the end. Slowly, tracing the wires so he would use only the ones he wanted, he clipped the jumpers to the wires. The jumpers would likely melt when the hyper system was initiated. They wouldn’t be able to handle the power.
Kast wished they would just use the backup. That’s what it was there for, right? Unfortunately, this model of backup hyperdrive was a one-shot unit; fairly archaic and expensive to replace. He knew there was no way the captain would use the backup unless they were in imminent danger. Worse, the captain had taken steps to disconnect the backup from the safeties, so if would have to be tripped manually if they were to use it.
He finished and began extricating himself from the crawlspace. As soon as he exited the maintenance hatch, he signaled to the bridge, “All complete, Captain. You can initiate whenever. No guarantees though. The power inducer is totally bypassed so it’s very likely that we are just going to burn out the motivator.”
“Ok, Renai. Noted. Still, have to take that chance.” There was a click, pop and low-key hum as the captain switched over to ship wide, “Ok, folks. Looks like we might have a fix in place. Standby to de-transit, in five, four, three, two, initiate!”
The ship shuddered momentarily and there was a loud POP from inside the maintenance space. Smoke wafted out from the open hatch. Renai called the bridge, “Captain, this is Renai, looks like the motivator blew, there’s a good amount of smoke coming out from the maintenance hatch. I think the suppression system is going, I’ll check that out as soon as it’s done. Did we come out of hyper?”
“No, we’re still in hyperspace. Make certain there’s no fire then head over to the backup drive.”
“Yes, sir.”
*****
Vice-Admiral Sikhuhai stood before the assembled captains of Task Force 2-61. Project above the table was a tactical map of the Lianshi system. Static defenses had been plotted. Golan Arms Defense Platforms speckled the orbit of Lianshi II, as well as each Lagrange Point. Each of the points had a shipyard perched on it, a minimum of four of the platforms guarded the shipyard facilities. Further, scattered throughout the system on likely hyperspace and orbital approaches were minefields. These were more nebulous and did not have clearly defined perimeters. The planet itself had orbital minefields. These had not been plotted, so the entire sphere was shrouded with the red tinted cloud of a minefield.
“We will initiate a jump from Gustav to Point Delta-Delta-Three in interstellar space. There the fleet will form up into battlegroups and task forces and then perform a coordinated jump into the Lianshi system. Task Force 2-61 will be part of Battlegroup Yethris. You will be on the far port flank of the line of battle once combat is engaged. Prior to that, you will jump in formation from Point Delta-Delta-Three to Phase Point Norain where all ships will fire in unison at this Golan Arms Platform at Lagrange Three.” One of the Lagrange platforms illuminated and flashed briefly. From there you will jump to Decision Point Temeculah and fire on the next platform at the same Lagrange point.” Both the firing points were well away from any minefields or defense platforms.
“From Temeculah, you will jump to Decision Point Joast and fire against the next platform. You see the pattern? Points Emere and Qusekhs follow Joast. Each of these jump and firing operations must occur within a two and one-half minute timeframe. I realize this is tight, but I have the utmost confidence in your capabilities. Once you have eliminated the defense stations you will be jumping from Qusekhs to Rendarck to Rancor, to Xexxies and firing against the shipyard at Lagrange Three.
The five initial firing points had been approximately mid-way towards the primary from the edge of the solar system. Decision Point Rendarck jumped out to almost the edge of the system and Rancor and Xerxxies were dropped at even points along the firing path of the salvo that would have been launched at Rendarck. The Task Force commanders noticed this.
“Admiral,” Captain Termillian spoke up, “Those jump points will put us directly in our own line of fire.”
“That’s correct Captain. As I said each operation will have two and one-half minutes. At two minutes, forty seconds, that salvo will pass through your positions. This will have the benefit of focusing tightly packed salvos on one shield facing. We’re firing on a stationary but heavily shielded enemy installation. We don’t need to worry about them jumping out to meet us, but we do need to get their shields down quickly. What little Intelligence we have from within Lianshi indicates that each of the shipyards has been equipped with Theatre grade shields.
“Now, you may have noticed that only the initial entry point is designated as a Phase Point, all others are Decision points. There is a defensive fleet somewhere in the system. Fast recon and long range scans have not been able to pinpoint them at this time. There is a good amount of jamming going on within the system, so we are fairly certain that it’s mainly to hide the fleet. Once the Separatist fleet appears, Battlegroup Alpine will move to engage. This may require your 2-61 to take on additional targets, or may require you to assist Alpine. Battlegroup Brevitte will be conducting similar operations on the starboard flank and is under similar orders.
“During this operation, coordination, discipline and flexibility will be critical. We will begin operations in 72 standard hours. Until then, Captains, I suggest you brief your crews and begin drills. Any objections?”
DING DING. No one had a chance to speak, Captain Mifune’s comm rang out. She depressed the key, “Mifune.”
“Captain, my apologies for interrupting, but a bulk freighter just dropped out of hyper. Our task force is in best position for an intercept. A moment…Ma’am, Scans has just informed me that the freighter is the Gondar Magnus and is listed as hailing from a Separatist system.”
“Thank you Lt. Commander Recari.” She looked to Amell and raised and inquiring eyebrow. Amell, in turn looked to Sikhuhai with an inquisitive expression, "Admiral?"
The Cathar looked at Amell and smiled in a somewhat goading manner, “It’s your game Commodore. Make the play as you see fit.”
Amell nodded and turned to the assembled captains, “Captain Termillian, have the Swift Sword intercept and capture.” Amell keyed Mifune’s commtab, “Deck Officer, this is Commodore Amell, have Captain Tremillian’s shuttle prepped for emergency departure.”
“Aye, sir!”
“Captain, I will dispatch the orders to the Swift Sword and inform them that you are inbound.” Amell said.
Tremillian stood, saluted sharply, “Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!” He turned to his XO who was seated against the wall of the wardroom, “Maxin, let’s get to work!” The two darted out of the wardroom, headed to the hangar bay with all haste.
Amell looked at the timepiece on the wall and then Mifune as the captains filed out, “Just in time for evening mess.”
She humphed at the comment, “Something tells me that freighter crew isn’t going to be hungry after the Swift Sword rolls out the red carpet.”
The crew of the Victory Rising was green, almost to a man. The Acheron, the only other Block 40 Victory in the task force was a mix of seasoned and green. Both of the other Victories, both Block 20 ships, were experienced, as were the two Venators. Captain Termillian of the Venator Swift Sword, arguably the most experienced and senior of the captains in the task force, had offered the Swift Sword as the task force flagship. Amell had politely declined, citing a desire to remain aboard the Victory Rising as an incentive to the crew to improve. That had mollified Termillian somewhat, but he still saw it as slight.
Amell keyed the commtab on his desk, “Lieutenant Zax, inform all commands that there will be an executive brief at 1900 hours in the Victory Rising’s ward room. At that time orders will be issued. Please ensure that there is plenty of water and some small snacks to go around.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Amell turned in his chair, “Do you think the plan might be a bit aggressive, Sir?”
“I think the plan will create confusion in the defenses. But the captains will appraise us of whether their ships are up to the challenge. I don’t think any will turn down the opportunity to show a couple flag officers what they can do!” Sikhuhai grinned.
*****
Kast Renai dropped into the maintenance space of the Gondar Magnus. The bulk freighter had been experiencing problems with it’s hyperdrive for a couple weeks now. Generally nothing serious, usually a failure to initiate the jump. The last problem had been on exiting hyper in the Lianshi system, or rather they hadn’t exited hyper in the Lianshi system. They were still in hyper and sailing light years past the system with every minute. Apparently, they hadn’t passed close enough to any planets or the primary to kill them.
“If these Super Battle Droids don’t get there on time, someone’s gonna get screwed. Probably me since I maintain all this drek”, Kast muttered. “Damn, we were already behind schedule too. Definitely no bonuses on this run.”
Kast thought it was probably the hyperdrive motivator that was flaking out. Of course the only way to determine that was to get in the maintenance spaces and get dirty.
He crawled through the underbelly of the freighter until he reached the hyperdrive system. Finding the heavy cables that led to the motivator he began tracing them down. Figures. Behind the hyperwave inverter. Too bad he wasn’t a contortionist, it would have made things so much easier. His girlfriend would have been impressed, too.
He clamped a torch to one of the conduits that ran through the crawlspace, focusing the beam on the motivator and then opened the panel on the motivator. The sight that greeted him wasn’t very cheerful. Something inside had overloaded and the panel was discolored from heat. All the indicator lights were out and there was no way to tell whether it even had power. Cursing silently, Kast pulled the sonic spanner from his tool pouch and used it to pop the cover off.
A bundle of wires, insulation melted, attested to the damage. He replaced the spanner and pulled out the test rig. He carefully checked each relay and connection. One after another, the showed green. Of all the connections to check, one was red. All of them, except the main power inducer in the motivator, were good.
Kast sighed and pulled out his compak. “Captain, this is Renai, the hyperdrive motivator is bad. It needs a new power inducer.”
“With that bad even the safeties won’t function properly. Do we have any aboard?”
“No, sir. Not this type. The backup hyperdrive has one but it’s not compatible.”
“Can you trigger it manually?”
“Well, I can try to bypass, but even if it works, it will trash the rest of the motivator.”
“Do it. The way our luck is running, if you don’t we’ll end up running straight into a gas giant or something.”
“Yes, sir.”
Kast laid the test rig on the ductwork next to the motivator and pulled out a set of wires with clips on the end. Slowly, tracing the wires so he would use only the ones he wanted, he clipped the jumpers to the wires. The jumpers would likely melt when the hyper system was initiated. They wouldn’t be able to handle the power.
Kast wished they would just use the backup. That’s what it was there for, right? Unfortunately, this model of backup hyperdrive was a one-shot unit; fairly archaic and expensive to replace. He knew there was no way the captain would use the backup unless they were in imminent danger. Worse, the captain had taken steps to disconnect the backup from the safeties, so if would have to be tripped manually if they were to use it.
He finished and began extricating himself from the crawlspace. As soon as he exited the maintenance hatch, he signaled to the bridge, “All complete, Captain. You can initiate whenever. No guarantees though. The power inducer is totally bypassed so it’s very likely that we are just going to burn out the motivator.”
“Ok, Renai. Noted. Still, have to take that chance.” There was a click, pop and low-key hum as the captain switched over to ship wide, “Ok, folks. Looks like we might have a fix in place. Standby to de-transit, in five, four, three, two, initiate!”
The ship shuddered momentarily and there was a loud POP from inside the maintenance space. Smoke wafted out from the open hatch. Renai called the bridge, “Captain, this is Renai, looks like the motivator blew, there’s a good amount of smoke coming out from the maintenance hatch. I think the suppression system is going, I’ll check that out as soon as it’s done. Did we come out of hyper?”
“No, we’re still in hyperspace. Make certain there’s no fire then head over to the backup drive.”
“Yes, sir.”
*****
Vice-Admiral Sikhuhai stood before the assembled captains of Task Force 2-61. Project above the table was a tactical map of the Lianshi system. Static defenses had been plotted. Golan Arms Defense Platforms speckled the orbit of Lianshi II, as well as each Lagrange Point. Each of the points had a shipyard perched on it, a minimum of four of the platforms guarded the shipyard facilities. Further, scattered throughout the system on likely hyperspace and orbital approaches were minefields. These were more nebulous and did not have clearly defined perimeters. The planet itself had orbital minefields. These had not been plotted, so the entire sphere was shrouded with the red tinted cloud of a minefield.
“We will initiate a jump from Gustav to Point Delta-Delta-Three in interstellar space. There the fleet will form up into battlegroups and task forces and then perform a coordinated jump into the Lianshi system. Task Force 2-61 will be part of Battlegroup Yethris. You will be on the far port flank of the line of battle once combat is engaged. Prior to that, you will jump in formation from Point Delta-Delta-Three to Phase Point Norain where all ships will fire in unison at this Golan Arms Platform at Lagrange Three.” One of the Lagrange platforms illuminated and flashed briefly. From there you will jump to Decision Point Temeculah and fire on the next platform at the same Lagrange point.” Both the firing points were well away from any minefields or defense platforms.
“From Temeculah, you will jump to Decision Point Joast and fire against the next platform. You see the pattern? Points Emere and Qusekhs follow Joast. Each of these jump and firing operations must occur within a two and one-half minute timeframe. I realize this is tight, but I have the utmost confidence in your capabilities. Once you have eliminated the defense stations you will be jumping from Qusekhs to Rendarck to Rancor, to Xexxies and firing against the shipyard at Lagrange Three.
The five initial firing points had been approximately mid-way towards the primary from the edge of the solar system. Decision Point Rendarck jumped out to almost the edge of the system and Rancor and Xerxxies were dropped at even points along the firing path of the salvo that would have been launched at Rendarck. The Task Force commanders noticed this.
“Admiral,” Captain Termillian spoke up, “Those jump points will put us directly in our own line of fire.”
“That’s correct Captain. As I said each operation will have two and one-half minutes. At two minutes, forty seconds, that salvo will pass through your positions. This will have the benefit of focusing tightly packed salvos on one shield facing. We’re firing on a stationary but heavily shielded enemy installation. We don’t need to worry about them jumping out to meet us, but we do need to get their shields down quickly. What little Intelligence we have from within Lianshi indicates that each of the shipyards has been equipped with Theatre grade shields.
“Now, you may have noticed that only the initial entry point is designated as a Phase Point, all others are Decision points. There is a defensive fleet somewhere in the system. Fast recon and long range scans have not been able to pinpoint them at this time. There is a good amount of jamming going on within the system, so we are fairly certain that it’s mainly to hide the fleet. Once the Separatist fleet appears, Battlegroup Alpine will move to engage. This may require your 2-61 to take on additional targets, or may require you to assist Alpine. Battlegroup Brevitte will be conducting similar operations on the starboard flank and is under similar orders.
“During this operation, coordination, discipline and flexibility will be critical. We will begin operations in 72 standard hours. Until then, Captains, I suggest you brief your crews and begin drills. Any objections?”
DING DING. No one had a chance to speak, Captain Mifune’s comm rang out. She depressed the key, “Mifune.”
“Captain, my apologies for interrupting, but a bulk freighter just dropped out of hyper. Our task force is in best position for an intercept. A moment…Ma’am, Scans has just informed me that the freighter is the Gondar Magnus and is listed as hailing from a Separatist system.”
“Thank you Lt. Commander Recari.” She looked to Amell and raised and inquiring eyebrow. Amell, in turn looked to Sikhuhai with an inquisitive expression, "Admiral?"
The Cathar looked at Amell and smiled in a somewhat goading manner, “It’s your game Commodore. Make the play as you see fit.”
Amell nodded and turned to the assembled captains, “Captain Termillian, have the Swift Sword intercept and capture.” Amell keyed Mifune’s commtab, “Deck Officer, this is Commodore Amell, have Captain Tremillian’s shuttle prepped for emergency departure.”
“Aye, sir!”
“Captain, I will dispatch the orders to the Swift Sword and inform them that you are inbound.” Amell said.
Tremillian stood, saluted sharply, “Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!” He turned to his XO who was seated against the wall of the wardroom, “Maxin, let’s get to work!” The two darted out of the wardroom, headed to the hangar bay with all haste.
Amell looked at the timepiece on the wall and then Mifune as the captains filed out, “Just in time for evening mess.”
She humphed at the comment, “Something tells me that freighter crew isn’t going to be hungry after the Swift Sword rolls out the red carpet.”
Last edited by Spiny Norman on 2005-09-01 12:08pm, edited 1 time in total.
Dinsdale!
-
Spiny Norman
- Redshirt
- Posts: 19
- Joined: 2005-06-30 04:44pm
Victory Rising 6: Out of Options
Alarm klaxons blared throughout the freighter, warning lights flashed. All the anti-collision systems were alerting to the vessel that had exited hyper a mere 50km off to port. “Someone turn those alarms off!” the captain shouted. The audible alerts were quickly muted. He opened up the ship-wide intercom, “All hands, Republic cruiser to port. Prepare to repel boarders!”
The first officer looked at the rudimentary tactical plot on the bridge with concern, “Sir, with all due respect, we can’t repel firepower of that magnitude. We should stand down and surrender. At worst we get locked up for the duration of the war. We’re just a freighter, not a front-line combatant.”
The captain looked at him with an icy stare, “We WILL defend this ship!”
“Captain!” shouted the scanner officer, “Assault shuttles launched! Venator class cruiser is providing covering fire. We’ll take some punishment if we deviate course.”
The captain leaned to the intercom mic, “Renai! Get that hyperdrive working!”
“It’s pretty well toast, Captain, but I will see what I can do.” Came the reply.
“Assault shuttles will be able to dock or grapple in approximately three minutes.” Reported the scan officer.
“Scan, give me visual next to the tactical plot.” Seconds later, a window popped next to the graphical display of the system. It showed the Venator and three assault shuttles moving rapidly to bridge the distance. “Raise shields! We might not be able to fend off that cruiser, but we can stop those shuttles from getting to us!”
*****
“Con, TacScan! Target has raised shields. Shuttles will reach shields in one minute, forty-five seconds.”
Tremillian smirked, “Gunnery, plot a firing solution for a broadside near miss. Close enough to impact the shields, enough of a miss that the freighter will not be hit with weapons fire. Let’s overload their shields.”
“Aye, sir, plotting. Solution complete, downloading to emplacements.”
“You may fire when ready, Gunnery.”
“Commencing broadside.”
The Swift Sword’s guns fell silent for just a second as the broadside solution was loaded into the ship’s batteries. Then, not quite in unison, all the starboard guns fired. Leading volleys impacted the Gondar Magnus’ shields near the dorsal shield emitters. The entire shield facet glowed for a split-second until the second volley impacted. The shields collapsed under the concentrated bombardment and the successive volleys sailed passed the hull.
“Con, TacScan! Target’s shields are down.”
“Commo, inform the shuttles they may begin boarding operations. Standard Rules of Engagement. Helm, bring us above and behind the freighter. The captain may attempt a mad dash for freedom, I want us to be in a good position to disable him if he does. Gunnery, prepare a solution against the drive section; I want the ship as whole as possible.”
*****
The Gondar Magnus rocked as the fusillade from the warship struck the shields. More warning lights flashed on the control panels a alarm bells began sounding. The captain looked at the plot and the displayed information.
“Captain that concentrated volley just took out our shields!”
“Renai! Forget the hyperdrive, get our shields back up!” the captain shouted into the intercom.
In the engineering space, Renai coughed and tried to fan the smoke away from his face. It seemed the entire ship had tried to turn upside down and then something had exploded elsewhere in engineering. “Ok, I’ll go—cough—take a look.”
He began extricating himself from the hyperdrive, but was fairly certain they were all doomed. The captain hadn’t had the presence of mind to shut off the intercom and was broadcasting his “battle orders” across the entire ship. Most of the crew seemed to be in no hurry to get to the weapon’s locker. The unspoken agreement was to get through this alive. That meant not resisting a boarding action by Republic Clone Troopers.
Renai pulled himself out of the crawlspace and headed over to the shield generator compartment. He walked through the pall of smoke, hands outstretched and eyes and lungs burning. The ventilation system was pulling it into the vents and through the scrubbers. As he turned into the corridor leading to the compartment the smoke was thinning out and visibility was improving. He stopped and looked at the wreckage. The compartment had been ruptured by an intense explosion. Fortunately, it was deep into the ships bowels and hadn’t opened the compartment to space. Still, the destruction here indicated a violent overload of the shield system.
Renai sighed, walked over to an intercom panel and opened the mic, “Captain, this is Renai. There’s nothing I can do for the shields. Then entire compartment looks like a bomb went off in it. What happened? Look, I'll run up to Deck Four and check with spares in Main Engineering.”
*****
“Dammit! Helm all ahead full! Let’s make a run for it.” The captain shouted.
The first officer looked at him as though he were insane. “Belay that order. Captain, you are endangering this ship and the crew, please rescind the order.”
“What? Mr. Roabarts, this is our duty!”
“Con, Scans, Republic vessel taking up position astern.”
“Captain, if you don’t rescind the order, I will relieve you. We are being boarded by a Republic warship with superior acceleration, maneuver and firepower. Attempting any further action would be suicidal.”
The captain looked at him with rage burning in his heart. “Damn you to the Six Hells of Kessel! Helm, full ahead!”
The helmsman looked between the two officers. He still had not carried out the order. His eyes darted over to the scanner officer who had stepped in behind the captain, his sidearm in his hand.
“Captain, we’ve got more than we can chew on. Mr. Avirden, lock the captain in his quarters. Commo, signal our surrender. Helm, roll us one hundred, eighty degrees starboard then shut down all drives. Navigation, purge all nav data. We may be outmatched, but we don’t need to give them the keys to the kingdom.”
The scanner officer led the captain out to his quarters. No one was watching the scanner screens to announce the shuttles grappling on the freighter.
*****
“Assault shuttles report soft-seal at the bridge, main engineering section and cargo control. They have started cutting.”
“Acknowledge.” Said Tremillian.
“Target is rolling, Sir. She’s giving us her belly! Fuel tanks are exposed. Sir, we’ve got a clear kill-shot.”
“Well, looks like our freighter captain is one smart tarfii. Good. This will make things easier.”
*****
“All teams this is Alpha Six, report status.”
“Bravo Six, team ready for entry.”
“Delta Six, team ready for entry.”
“Hotel Six, team ready for entry.”
“All teams, this is Alpha Six, Go! Go! Go!”
Like a finely choreographed dance, each team perform an identical entrance. Light breaching charges had been placed up against the freighter’s hull in the center of the area that was to be breached. The troopers had used cutting lasers with the cutting depth preset so that the hull would not be compromised until desired. Now, in almost perfect synchronization, the charges were detonated, opening three 1.5 meter holes in the hull. Concussion and Flash grenades were tossed through even as the debris continued to hit the decking.
The corridor outside the bridge had two men in it as the eight Clone Troopers of Hotel team stormed in. One had been armed, but dropped his weapon as the flash-bangs detonated. They were rapidly secured to a piece of equipment and the troopers then checked their location against schematics loaded into their helmet computers and turned to the hatch that lead to the bridge.
Main engineering had six men working pulling out the few spare parts on board for the shield system. Renai was overseeing the work and shaking his head. No way was there enough to even get a navshield working. There was a bang and some debris fell to the compartment compartment. All six looked at the source, a hole in the hull above them. Clone Trooper helmets looked at them through the hole and several round objects were tossed down at them.
There was a intense BANG that reverberated through Renai’s guts, sent his inner ear into fits and nearly knocked him from his feet. As if that weren’t enough, a blinding flash seared itself into his retinas at the same time. Reflexively, he turned and blindly stumbled a few paces before falling and holding his ears, eyes squeezed shut.
The Clone Troopers of Bravo team grabbed the rappelling lines and leapt through the hole. The change in gravitational orientation pulled them down the lines to the floor. They felt no disorientation. These were shipboard Troopers. Effectively marines, they trained for this type of action. As the last hit the decking, the first four Troopers to enter left their defensive positions and began rounding up the six stunned men, securing them with plastbond cuffs as the other four continued to perform defensive duties for the compartment. No words had been wasted and only minimal hand signals. They all knew their roles and each had practiced it to near perfection
Renai, blind and deaf, felt his hands pulled behind his back and secured there by armored hands. At least he wasn’t dead, he figured. Hopefully, this would wear off in a few hours. In the meantime, he really needed some pain relievers.
Delta team lobbed the grenades through the opening into the cargo control compartment. They rushed through as the flash and bang were still fading. The compartment was empty.
“This is Delta Six, Cargo Control secured.” He smiled, they were the first to secure their compartment.
Seconds later, “Bravo Six, Main Engineering is secured, six in custody.” Delta Six frowned, almost as quick and they had prisoners. There would be Ord Triisian Ale for Bravo tonight…paid for by Delta team.
“Hotel Six, two secured, preparing for Bridge entry.” Delta Six smiled. Hotel would be buying both teams some ale. They were supposed to have breached directly into the bridge. Looks like they must have missed the mark slightly.
Outside the bridge the troopers noted that the hatched was not secured. The lead troopers readied the grenades for another assault entry and took up position.
Hotel Six was about to give his men the “Go” signal when the hatch opened. The crewman that looked out went boggle-eyed and immediately raised his hands in surrender. “Sir,” he called over his shoulder, “Troopers in the corridor.”
Hotel Six heard the reply, “Let them in. We are unarmed, all weapons have been placed on the plot board.” A voice called into the corridor.
Over their secure com channel, Six ordered two forward onto the bridge. The crewman backed up as two troopers towards the rear rose from the crouched position. The two next to the hatch were holding blasters in one hand and grenades in the other. The crewman had no doubt that those grenades would incapacitate, if not kill, everyone on the bridge.
The two troopers moved through the hatch and took up positions to cover the compartment. The freighters crew all stood away from their consoles with their hands raised. A small pile of sidearms sat on the console for the navigation display.
“Six, this is 4-1, compartment secured from personnel. We need 5-1 for an IED sweep.”
“Roger, 5-1, sweep the compartment.”
“Roger.”
One of the troopers next to the hatch stowed his grenade and pulled out small sensor pack which he affixed to his blaster carbine. He pulled a wire from it and connected the pack to his helmet. He stood and moved onto the bridge and methodically checked all the fixtures, consoles, equipment, gear and personnel in the equipment.
“Six, the bridge is clear.”
“Move in.”
The remainder of the team in the corridor moved in, taking up positions around the bridge and next to sensitive crew positions. “Ok, 1-1, 2-1, secure the prisoners except the captain.” The team commander stepped forward and asked, “Who is the captain?”
Mr. Roabarts answered, “The captain was relieved. I am in command for now. The ship is yours with assurances of safety for my crew.”
“One moment.” Hotel Six switched over to the assault command frequency, “Alpha Six, Hotel Six, the freighter commander wants assurances of safety for the crew, says the captain’s been relieved.”
“Roger, Hotel Six. Blade Six says extend the guarantees of safety.”
“Commander, your crew is safe, no one will be injured provided there is no resistance. They will be confined aboard our ship.”
“Thank you. May I speak with the captain of your vessel please?”
*****
“Commo, have instruct the assault teams to bring the prisoners over and install them in the brig as soon as the sweep of the freighter is complete. XO, Have a prize crew ready to take the freighter to Gustav.”
“Aye, Sir.” The communications officer began relaying instructions to the assault commander. After a brief time, he turned back to the captain, “Sir, the freighter commander is requesting to see you.”
“Have him installed with the rest of his crew. He can talk to me when he’s in the brig.”
The first officer looked at the rudimentary tactical plot on the bridge with concern, “Sir, with all due respect, we can’t repel firepower of that magnitude. We should stand down and surrender. At worst we get locked up for the duration of the war. We’re just a freighter, not a front-line combatant.”
The captain looked at him with an icy stare, “We WILL defend this ship!”
“Captain!” shouted the scanner officer, “Assault shuttles launched! Venator class cruiser is providing covering fire. We’ll take some punishment if we deviate course.”
The captain leaned to the intercom mic, “Renai! Get that hyperdrive working!”
“It’s pretty well toast, Captain, but I will see what I can do.” Came the reply.
“Assault shuttles will be able to dock or grapple in approximately three minutes.” Reported the scan officer.
“Scan, give me visual next to the tactical plot.” Seconds later, a window popped next to the graphical display of the system. It showed the Venator and three assault shuttles moving rapidly to bridge the distance. “Raise shields! We might not be able to fend off that cruiser, but we can stop those shuttles from getting to us!”
*****
“Con, TacScan! Target has raised shields. Shuttles will reach shields in one minute, forty-five seconds.”
Tremillian smirked, “Gunnery, plot a firing solution for a broadside near miss. Close enough to impact the shields, enough of a miss that the freighter will not be hit with weapons fire. Let’s overload their shields.”
“Aye, sir, plotting. Solution complete, downloading to emplacements.”
“You may fire when ready, Gunnery.”
“Commencing broadside.”
The Swift Sword’s guns fell silent for just a second as the broadside solution was loaded into the ship’s batteries. Then, not quite in unison, all the starboard guns fired. Leading volleys impacted the Gondar Magnus’ shields near the dorsal shield emitters. The entire shield facet glowed for a split-second until the second volley impacted. The shields collapsed under the concentrated bombardment and the successive volleys sailed passed the hull.
“Con, TacScan! Target’s shields are down.”
“Commo, inform the shuttles they may begin boarding operations. Standard Rules of Engagement. Helm, bring us above and behind the freighter. The captain may attempt a mad dash for freedom, I want us to be in a good position to disable him if he does. Gunnery, prepare a solution against the drive section; I want the ship as whole as possible.”
*****
The Gondar Magnus rocked as the fusillade from the warship struck the shields. More warning lights flashed on the control panels a alarm bells began sounding. The captain looked at the plot and the displayed information.
“Captain that concentrated volley just took out our shields!”
“Renai! Forget the hyperdrive, get our shields back up!” the captain shouted into the intercom.
In the engineering space, Renai coughed and tried to fan the smoke away from his face. It seemed the entire ship had tried to turn upside down and then something had exploded elsewhere in engineering. “Ok, I’ll go—cough—take a look.”
He began extricating himself from the hyperdrive, but was fairly certain they were all doomed. The captain hadn’t had the presence of mind to shut off the intercom and was broadcasting his “battle orders” across the entire ship. Most of the crew seemed to be in no hurry to get to the weapon’s locker. The unspoken agreement was to get through this alive. That meant not resisting a boarding action by Republic Clone Troopers.
Renai pulled himself out of the crawlspace and headed over to the shield generator compartment. He walked through the pall of smoke, hands outstretched and eyes and lungs burning. The ventilation system was pulling it into the vents and through the scrubbers. As he turned into the corridor leading to the compartment the smoke was thinning out and visibility was improving. He stopped and looked at the wreckage. The compartment had been ruptured by an intense explosion. Fortunately, it was deep into the ships bowels and hadn’t opened the compartment to space. Still, the destruction here indicated a violent overload of the shield system.
Renai sighed, walked over to an intercom panel and opened the mic, “Captain, this is Renai. There’s nothing I can do for the shields. Then entire compartment looks like a bomb went off in it. What happened? Look, I'll run up to Deck Four and check with spares in Main Engineering.”
*****
“Dammit! Helm all ahead full! Let’s make a run for it.” The captain shouted.
The first officer looked at him as though he were insane. “Belay that order. Captain, you are endangering this ship and the crew, please rescind the order.”
“What? Mr. Roabarts, this is our duty!”
“Con, Scans, Republic vessel taking up position astern.”
“Captain, if you don’t rescind the order, I will relieve you. We are being boarded by a Republic warship with superior acceleration, maneuver and firepower. Attempting any further action would be suicidal.”
The captain looked at him with rage burning in his heart. “Damn you to the Six Hells of Kessel! Helm, full ahead!”
The helmsman looked between the two officers. He still had not carried out the order. His eyes darted over to the scanner officer who had stepped in behind the captain, his sidearm in his hand.
“Captain, we’ve got more than we can chew on. Mr. Avirden, lock the captain in his quarters. Commo, signal our surrender. Helm, roll us one hundred, eighty degrees starboard then shut down all drives. Navigation, purge all nav data. We may be outmatched, but we don’t need to give them the keys to the kingdom.”
The scanner officer led the captain out to his quarters. No one was watching the scanner screens to announce the shuttles grappling on the freighter.
*****
“Assault shuttles report soft-seal at the bridge, main engineering section and cargo control. They have started cutting.”
“Acknowledge.” Said Tremillian.
“Target is rolling, Sir. She’s giving us her belly! Fuel tanks are exposed. Sir, we’ve got a clear kill-shot.”
“Well, looks like our freighter captain is one smart tarfii. Good. This will make things easier.”
*****
“All teams this is Alpha Six, report status.”
“Bravo Six, team ready for entry.”
“Delta Six, team ready for entry.”
“Hotel Six, team ready for entry.”
“All teams, this is Alpha Six, Go! Go! Go!”
Like a finely choreographed dance, each team perform an identical entrance. Light breaching charges had been placed up against the freighter’s hull in the center of the area that was to be breached. The troopers had used cutting lasers with the cutting depth preset so that the hull would not be compromised until desired. Now, in almost perfect synchronization, the charges were detonated, opening three 1.5 meter holes in the hull. Concussion and Flash grenades were tossed through even as the debris continued to hit the decking.
The corridor outside the bridge had two men in it as the eight Clone Troopers of Hotel team stormed in. One had been armed, but dropped his weapon as the flash-bangs detonated. They were rapidly secured to a piece of equipment and the troopers then checked their location against schematics loaded into their helmet computers and turned to the hatch that lead to the bridge.
Main engineering had six men working pulling out the few spare parts on board for the shield system. Renai was overseeing the work and shaking his head. No way was there enough to even get a navshield working. There was a bang and some debris fell to the compartment compartment. All six looked at the source, a hole in the hull above them. Clone Trooper helmets looked at them through the hole and several round objects were tossed down at them.
There was a intense BANG that reverberated through Renai’s guts, sent his inner ear into fits and nearly knocked him from his feet. As if that weren’t enough, a blinding flash seared itself into his retinas at the same time. Reflexively, he turned and blindly stumbled a few paces before falling and holding his ears, eyes squeezed shut.
The Clone Troopers of Bravo team grabbed the rappelling lines and leapt through the hole. The change in gravitational orientation pulled them down the lines to the floor. They felt no disorientation. These were shipboard Troopers. Effectively marines, they trained for this type of action. As the last hit the decking, the first four Troopers to enter left their defensive positions and began rounding up the six stunned men, securing them with plastbond cuffs as the other four continued to perform defensive duties for the compartment. No words had been wasted and only minimal hand signals. They all knew their roles and each had practiced it to near perfection
Renai, blind and deaf, felt his hands pulled behind his back and secured there by armored hands. At least he wasn’t dead, he figured. Hopefully, this would wear off in a few hours. In the meantime, he really needed some pain relievers.
Delta team lobbed the grenades through the opening into the cargo control compartment. They rushed through as the flash and bang were still fading. The compartment was empty.
“This is Delta Six, Cargo Control secured.” He smiled, they were the first to secure their compartment.
Seconds later, “Bravo Six, Main Engineering is secured, six in custody.” Delta Six frowned, almost as quick and they had prisoners. There would be Ord Triisian Ale for Bravo tonight…paid for by Delta team.
“Hotel Six, two secured, preparing for Bridge entry.” Delta Six smiled. Hotel would be buying both teams some ale. They were supposed to have breached directly into the bridge. Looks like they must have missed the mark slightly.
Outside the bridge the troopers noted that the hatched was not secured. The lead troopers readied the grenades for another assault entry and took up position.
Hotel Six was about to give his men the “Go” signal when the hatch opened. The crewman that looked out went boggle-eyed and immediately raised his hands in surrender. “Sir,” he called over his shoulder, “Troopers in the corridor.”
Hotel Six heard the reply, “Let them in. We are unarmed, all weapons have been placed on the plot board.” A voice called into the corridor.
Over their secure com channel, Six ordered two forward onto the bridge. The crewman backed up as two troopers towards the rear rose from the crouched position. The two next to the hatch were holding blasters in one hand and grenades in the other. The crewman had no doubt that those grenades would incapacitate, if not kill, everyone on the bridge.
The two troopers moved through the hatch and took up positions to cover the compartment. The freighters crew all stood away from their consoles with their hands raised. A small pile of sidearms sat on the console for the navigation display.
“Six, this is 4-1, compartment secured from personnel. We need 5-1 for an IED sweep.”
“Roger, 5-1, sweep the compartment.”
“Roger.”
One of the troopers next to the hatch stowed his grenade and pulled out small sensor pack which he affixed to his blaster carbine. He pulled a wire from it and connected the pack to his helmet. He stood and moved onto the bridge and methodically checked all the fixtures, consoles, equipment, gear and personnel in the equipment.
“Six, the bridge is clear.”
“Move in.”
The remainder of the team in the corridor moved in, taking up positions around the bridge and next to sensitive crew positions. “Ok, 1-1, 2-1, secure the prisoners except the captain.” The team commander stepped forward and asked, “Who is the captain?”
Mr. Roabarts answered, “The captain was relieved. I am in command for now. The ship is yours with assurances of safety for my crew.”
“One moment.” Hotel Six switched over to the assault command frequency, “Alpha Six, Hotel Six, the freighter commander wants assurances of safety for the crew, says the captain’s been relieved.”
“Roger, Hotel Six. Blade Six says extend the guarantees of safety.”
“Commander, your crew is safe, no one will be injured provided there is no resistance. They will be confined aboard our ship.”
“Thank you. May I speak with the captain of your vessel please?”
*****
“Commo, have instruct the assault teams to bring the prisoners over and install them in the brig as soon as the sweep of the freighter is complete. XO, Have a prize crew ready to take the freighter to Gustav.”
“Aye, Sir.” The communications officer began relaying instructions to the assault commander. After a brief time, he turned back to the captain, “Sir, the freighter commander is requesting to see you.”
“Have him installed with the rest of his crew. He can talk to me when he’s in the brig.”
Dinsdale!
-
Spiny Norman
- Redshirt
- Posts: 19
- Joined: 2005-06-30 04:44pm
Victory Rising 7: A Change of Plans
“Hydra has jumped in. I say again; Hydra has jumped in.”
“Roger, Krayte Actual.”
“Con, TacScan! Hydra is out of position. Task force is on bearing 0-2-6 mark 1-4, distance, eight hundred twenty two thousand kilometers.”
Explosions. Turbolasers firing. The cacophony of the Command Information Center is overwhelming.
“Eight Lucrehulk class battleships and three Providence class engaging Hydra.”
“Hydra sustaining losses, three Victories destroyed.”
“Hydra is taking fire from Golan 3.”
We could capture that platform. A commando team could take it just before the battle and use it against the Separatists.
“Order 66 relayed to all troopers.”
He inhaled deeply as his eyes opened slowly. Ven-Kata paused before rising, contemplating his dream, the sounds and orders still echoing through his mind. This was unusual. He was not prone to prescient visions or dreams as some other Jedi were. Obviously, it had some level of import. He would investigate all options immediately. Little time remained. He rose from his bunk, the astromech sitting in the corner twittered something at him. He promptly dismissed it, “Not now. I must go speak with the Admiral.”
*****
“Admiral, I believe there will be a problem during the battle. We need to put some contingencies in place before then.”
“There will be deviations from the plan, there always are. We have most contingencies covered by alternate operating orders, that which is not covered by orders will be covered by unit flexibility. Are you suggesting that something catastrophic is going to occur?”
“Yes, I am. I can’t put my finger on exactly what. I am not very good with the prescience abilities, but I do recognize them. The future is always in motion, so this is only a potential, but I think if there is some way we could capture the Golan 3 platform, it would provide a great advantage.”
Vice-Admiral Sikhuhai looked at the Jedi through hooded eyes. “We have the Gondar Magnus. It could be useful in that aspect. With only two and a half days, you have a lot of work to do, Colonel. The freighter needs a new hyper drive. I think we can spare one, though. You also might want to go talk to the ship’s XO. He claims to be with MI-3, but none of his recognition codes check and MI-3 hasn’t responded to our queries yet.”
MI-3 was the Republic’s SentInt (Sentients Intelligence) branch. They were the proto-typical black operations guys. The spies all the HoloNet shows loved to use for their adventure shows. It wasn’t terribly unusual for one of their operatives to have outdated or incorrect codes. MI-3 wasn’t particularly efficient at keeping track of those codes or maintaining them.
“He may be able to help if that’s the case.”
*****
The rich aroma of caff permiated the room. Shahara poured from her mini-caff dispenser some of the gourmet caff she had picked up at her last port call. Straight crem, she didn’t bother with the frother and just a pinch of zuuck suited her mood at the moment. She was reviewing the wargames that V.Adm. Sukhuhai had been running the fleet through prior to their arrival. The fleet tactics she would have to blend into in order to make them a functional part of the unit.
She watched a trio of Acclamators, putting out transponder signals identifying them as unarmed Republic flagged tramp freighters beset by a squadron of Victories emulating Separatist battleships. Four Republic warships jumped in and engaged the “Separatist” forces. The Republic ships were clearly outgunned by the opposing force. Yet, they still operated coolly and efficiently. Focusing all fire on the lead enemy, they quickly disabled it. The OpFor ships were using observed Separatist tactics from recent engagements. The lead vessel obscured a large portion of the flotilla’s firepower.
With the lead ship declared disabled, it ceased all powered movement and began to drift. The other vessels adjusted their tactics and opened their formation, immediately firing on the Republic left flank ship. The Victory, a block 10 ship, she noted, immediately turned nose “down” relative and accelerated into the shadow of the Acclamators.
“Ruthless son of a bitch.” Shahara muttered. She paused the replay, tapped a few keys and the ship’s data popped up, Obsidian Arrow. Apparently on loan to the Republic from Eriadu System Defense Forces in the Seswenna sector. Captained by one Wilhuff Tarkin. She started the replay. The other three Republic ships turned in the opposite direction and accelerated away from the Acclamators and the pursuing OpFor. The OpFor ships turned to chase the Republic warships.
In a dangerous maneuver, the Obsidian Arrow came about and almost literally threaded the eye of a needle and passed through the tightly grouped Acclamators. Mifune frowned paused the replay again and brought up the communications transcriptions. She performed a quick search for all traffic to the freighters. It returned very little. Aside from the OpFor orders to heave-to and the orders from the Republic ships to jump as soon as possible, there was no traffic. She was certain the Victory would have coordinated that maneuver with the Acclamators. This Tarkin must be incredibly confident in his crew and his ship or incredibly foolish.
Play. The Obsidian Arrow slowly continued to accelerate towards the OpFor. It had an intercept course well laid, but the OpFor ships used the maximum thrust available to the Separatist ships they were emulating. The ships were beginning to string out due to the different levels of thrust available, but they all were still going to outrun the Victory.
As the Obsidian Arrow reached the closest position to the OpFor ship, it released a small cloud of missiles. All focused in and homed in on the nearest OpFor craft. Unfortunately for the mock-Separatists, the Victory and missiles now in flight were well out of any useful weapons arcs. Multiple hits registered and the computers noted the shields collapsed. All weapons of the Arrow fired into the target as it desperately maneuvered for survival.
The rest of the Republic forces cut thrust and spun about on maneuvering thrusters, laying a withering fire on the beleaguered OpFor vessel. More hits registered and the ship shut down, registering as a kill. The Arrow fired another full salvo of missiles at the remaining Separatists as the Republic ships refocused fire.
True to their tactics and doctrine, the Separatists recognized that the advantage was quickly dwindling. Two of the ships turned and made a run for the freighters. This exposed them to more direct fire from the Arrow. A moment later another flurry of missiles departed the Victory class vessel. The lead OpFor ship lost shields and as a freighter converted to battleship, just did not have the armor to withstand the Victory’s guns. The ship registered as a kill, but not before giving some back to the Arrow. The armament of the OpFor battleship, while severely limited in firing arcs, could partially range on the Obsidian Arrow. In the exchange, the Arrow lost her forward and starboard shields and her starboard heavy turbolasers.
Ding Ding. Her door chime sounded. She turned to the door, “Enter.”
Commodore Amell stepped in as the door slid aside. “Captain.” He said with a smile.
“Commodore Amell, I was just reviewing Admiral Sukhuhai’s logs from the wargames last week. They are quite interesting.”
“Really?” Amell moved over to her desk and looked at the display.
“This fellow here, he’s a bastard. He used unarmed freighters as cover for his ship in a heated engagement.” She pointed at the Obsidian Arrow and the Acclamators.
“Did he win the engagement?”
She reached down and restarted the replay. Fairly battered by a considerably smaller force the Separatist fleet decided that they’d taken enough and the bulk jumped away. Only the battleship facing the Obsidian Arrow remained. The battleship turned as the Arrow rotated her shields to bring full strength screens between her and the battleship. At the same time, the Republic ships were reorienting themselves, bringing the maximum amount of weapons to bear on the battleship. They finished their maneuver just as the battleship opened fire on the Arrow. Without hesitation they returned fire, saturating the battleship’s remaining shields collapsing them. The Arrow fired at nearly point blank range a spread of missiles, greatly reduced from her original volleys and mostly originating from her port batteries.
The battleship never had a chance to make evasive maneuvers. All the missiles impacted the craft and the system immediately declared a catastrophic failure in all systems. It then froze as the replay ended.
She looked at him. “Yes.”
“And I see the freighters survived. No harm, no foul. I’ve viewed this replay,” he said as he sat down, “And it is a questionable tactic. But I believe he was banking on the Separatists wanting the freighters intact. It was a gamble and it paid.”
“If that had been a real engagement, he would have put civilians at risk.”
“If that had been a real engagement, there would have been more at stake than who won. I don’t think any captain of an unarmed freighter would complain as long as the lived to escape. Shahara, that’s a maneuver I might well pull, myself. It just depends on the circumstance. Also, it was wargame. What would he do in real life? I would like to think he would use some other tactic.”
She frowned at him, “It was still reckless, did you see how close the freighters were?”
“They were over three kilometers apart. Sha, you have to throw caution to the wind occasionally and take chances. Sometimes they’ll pay off, sometimes you’ll have a mess on your hands. Welcome to the command life.”
Captain Mifune was about to reply to that when Amell’s communicator beeped. “This is Amell.”
“Commodore, this is Ven-Kata. I must speak to you immediately.”
“Colonel, I am with the Captain in her quarters reviewing some maneuver logs. Please feel free to join us.”
Mifune reached over to the comm panel on her desk, “Gef, please have a pot of caff and some light snacks brought to my quarters.”
*****
“So you want to take some of the troopers, the captured freighter and jump into Lianshi and try to capture one of the Golan platforms? I would call that a high risk operation. Even with an expected level of subterfuge to gain access to the defense station, there is far too much that can go wrong. I am going to have to say no.” He sat back and sipped from his steaming cup of caff.
“Commodore, Vice-Admiral Sukhuhai has already given his approval. There are already crews replacing the hyperdrive.”
Mifune stopped in mid-stir, streaks of white crem swirling through the deep brown caff. Circumventing the chain of command was a good way to get one's behind booted out of a unit, regardless of whether one was a Jedi or not.
Amell sighed, “If that’s the case, take half the trooper compliment of the Acheron. Do you have a plan?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t go to the fresher without a plan!” the Jedi smiled at Amell. “We will jump out as close as possible to the platform. Hopefully, close enough to trigger their proximity alarms. We will have some drive problems and not be able to move to port under our own power. Fortunately, one of the shipyards is co-located with that defense platform. While we arrange for a repair crew, a team of troopers outfitted for extra-vehicular duties will make their way to the main antenna array and disable it. This should prevent any calls for help without affecting communications in the immediate area.
“Once that is taken care of, we will dock and allow the repair crew to enter. After we secure them in the brig, we will storm the facilities. The troopers are all well versed in capturing ships and stations, so it is my hope that this will go smoothly and quickly. Once we are in control of the station, we could assist with rear area fire from the platform guns.”
“We will adjust our fire so as not to fire on this platform provided we receive your…No. Better yet, a recon fighter will jump into the outer system at the same time as you. Once you storm the station, signal the recon fighter. The fighter jumps back and then the fleet jumps in.”
“Why?”
“Just a feeling. But, at least your team won’t have to worry about the platform crew receiving reinforcements.”
“Commodore, I also need to speak with the freighter’s second in command.”
“I’ll make the arrangements."
Kotur gulped down the hot caff and stood, “In that case, I have very little time.” He turned and exited the cabin.
A troubled Amell looked at Mifune, “Should I trust him, Sha?”
The question surprised her, “The Jedi have been around for thousands of years, before even the Republic. And with few exceptions, they have always worked for the better of the Republic and the people." She nodded, " I think so.”
“Sometimes they go bad, though.”
“I don’t get that feeling from the Colonel. He’s too happy. We all know the stories of Exar Kun.”
Bes harrumphed at the mention of Exar Kun, “Fairy tales and non-sense. Tales to frighten children!”
She flashed him an amused smile, “Well then, there is nothing to worry about.”
“Roger, Krayte Actual.”
“Con, TacScan! Hydra is out of position. Task force is on bearing 0-2-6 mark 1-4, distance, eight hundred twenty two thousand kilometers.”
Explosions. Turbolasers firing. The cacophony of the Command Information Center is overwhelming.
“Eight Lucrehulk class battleships and three Providence class engaging Hydra.”
“Hydra sustaining losses, three Victories destroyed.”
“Hydra is taking fire from Golan 3.”
We could capture that platform. A commando team could take it just before the battle and use it against the Separatists.
“Order 66 relayed to all troopers.”
He inhaled deeply as his eyes opened slowly. Ven-Kata paused before rising, contemplating his dream, the sounds and orders still echoing through his mind. This was unusual. He was not prone to prescient visions or dreams as some other Jedi were. Obviously, it had some level of import. He would investigate all options immediately. Little time remained. He rose from his bunk, the astromech sitting in the corner twittered something at him. He promptly dismissed it, “Not now. I must go speak with the Admiral.”
*****
“Admiral, I believe there will be a problem during the battle. We need to put some contingencies in place before then.”
“There will be deviations from the plan, there always are. We have most contingencies covered by alternate operating orders, that which is not covered by orders will be covered by unit flexibility. Are you suggesting that something catastrophic is going to occur?”
“Yes, I am. I can’t put my finger on exactly what. I am not very good with the prescience abilities, but I do recognize them. The future is always in motion, so this is only a potential, but I think if there is some way we could capture the Golan 3 platform, it would provide a great advantage.”
Vice-Admiral Sikhuhai looked at the Jedi through hooded eyes. “We have the Gondar Magnus. It could be useful in that aspect. With only two and a half days, you have a lot of work to do, Colonel. The freighter needs a new hyper drive. I think we can spare one, though. You also might want to go talk to the ship’s XO. He claims to be with MI-3, but none of his recognition codes check and MI-3 hasn’t responded to our queries yet.”
MI-3 was the Republic’s SentInt (Sentients Intelligence) branch. They were the proto-typical black operations guys. The spies all the HoloNet shows loved to use for their adventure shows. It wasn’t terribly unusual for one of their operatives to have outdated or incorrect codes. MI-3 wasn’t particularly efficient at keeping track of those codes or maintaining them.
“He may be able to help if that’s the case.”
*****
The rich aroma of caff permiated the room. Shahara poured from her mini-caff dispenser some of the gourmet caff she had picked up at her last port call. Straight crem, she didn’t bother with the frother and just a pinch of zuuck suited her mood at the moment. She was reviewing the wargames that V.Adm. Sukhuhai had been running the fleet through prior to their arrival. The fleet tactics she would have to blend into in order to make them a functional part of the unit.
She watched a trio of Acclamators, putting out transponder signals identifying them as unarmed Republic flagged tramp freighters beset by a squadron of Victories emulating Separatist battleships. Four Republic warships jumped in and engaged the “Separatist” forces. The Republic ships were clearly outgunned by the opposing force. Yet, they still operated coolly and efficiently. Focusing all fire on the lead enemy, they quickly disabled it. The OpFor ships were using observed Separatist tactics from recent engagements. The lead vessel obscured a large portion of the flotilla’s firepower.
With the lead ship declared disabled, it ceased all powered movement and began to drift. The other vessels adjusted their tactics and opened their formation, immediately firing on the Republic left flank ship. The Victory, a block 10 ship, she noted, immediately turned nose “down” relative and accelerated into the shadow of the Acclamators.
“Ruthless son of a bitch.” Shahara muttered. She paused the replay, tapped a few keys and the ship’s data popped up, Obsidian Arrow. Apparently on loan to the Republic from Eriadu System Defense Forces in the Seswenna sector. Captained by one Wilhuff Tarkin. She started the replay. The other three Republic ships turned in the opposite direction and accelerated away from the Acclamators and the pursuing OpFor. The OpFor ships turned to chase the Republic warships.
In a dangerous maneuver, the Obsidian Arrow came about and almost literally threaded the eye of a needle and passed through the tightly grouped Acclamators. Mifune frowned paused the replay again and brought up the communications transcriptions. She performed a quick search for all traffic to the freighters. It returned very little. Aside from the OpFor orders to heave-to and the orders from the Republic ships to jump as soon as possible, there was no traffic. She was certain the Victory would have coordinated that maneuver with the Acclamators. This Tarkin must be incredibly confident in his crew and his ship or incredibly foolish.
Play. The Obsidian Arrow slowly continued to accelerate towards the OpFor. It had an intercept course well laid, but the OpFor ships used the maximum thrust available to the Separatist ships they were emulating. The ships were beginning to string out due to the different levels of thrust available, but they all were still going to outrun the Victory.
As the Obsidian Arrow reached the closest position to the OpFor ship, it released a small cloud of missiles. All focused in and homed in on the nearest OpFor craft. Unfortunately for the mock-Separatists, the Victory and missiles now in flight were well out of any useful weapons arcs. Multiple hits registered and the computers noted the shields collapsed. All weapons of the Arrow fired into the target as it desperately maneuvered for survival.
The rest of the Republic forces cut thrust and spun about on maneuvering thrusters, laying a withering fire on the beleaguered OpFor vessel. More hits registered and the ship shut down, registering as a kill. The Arrow fired another full salvo of missiles at the remaining Separatists as the Republic ships refocused fire.
True to their tactics and doctrine, the Separatists recognized that the advantage was quickly dwindling. Two of the ships turned and made a run for the freighters. This exposed them to more direct fire from the Arrow. A moment later another flurry of missiles departed the Victory class vessel. The lead OpFor ship lost shields and as a freighter converted to battleship, just did not have the armor to withstand the Victory’s guns. The ship registered as a kill, but not before giving some back to the Arrow. The armament of the OpFor battleship, while severely limited in firing arcs, could partially range on the Obsidian Arrow. In the exchange, the Arrow lost her forward and starboard shields and her starboard heavy turbolasers.
Ding Ding. Her door chime sounded. She turned to the door, “Enter.”
Commodore Amell stepped in as the door slid aside. “Captain.” He said with a smile.
“Commodore Amell, I was just reviewing Admiral Sukhuhai’s logs from the wargames last week. They are quite interesting.”
“Really?” Amell moved over to her desk and looked at the display.
“This fellow here, he’s a bastard. He used unarmed freighters as cover for his ship in a heated engagement.” She pointed at the Obsidian Arrow and the Acclamators.
“Did he win the engagement?”
She reached down and restarted the replay. Fairly battered by a considerably smaller force the Separatist fleet decided that they’d taken enough and the bulk jumped away. Only the battleship facing the Obsidian Arrow remained. The battleship turned as the Arrow rotated her shields to bring full strength screens between her and the battleship. At the same time, the Republic ships were reorienting themselves, bringing the maximum amount of weapons to bear on the battleship. They finished their maneuver just as the battleship opened fire on the Arrow. Without hesitation they returned fire, saturating the battleship’s remaining shields collapsing them. The Arrow fired at nearly point blank range a spread of missiles, greatly reduced from her original volleys and mostly originating from her port batteries.
The battleship never had a chance to make evasive maneuvers. All the missiles impacted the craft and the system immediately declared a catastrophic failure in all systems. It then froze as the replay ended.
She looked at him. “Yes.”
“And I see the freighters survived. No harm, no foul. I’ve viewed this replay,” he said as he sat down, “And it is a questionable tactic. But I believe he was banking on the Separatists wanting the freighters intact. It was a gamble and it paid.”
“If that had been a real engagement, he would have put civilians at risk.”
“If that had been a real engagement, there would have been more at stake than who won. I don’t think any captain of an unarmed freighter would complain as long as the lived to escape. Shahara, that’s a maneuver I might well pull, myself. It just depends on the circumstance. Also, it was wargame. What would he do in real life? I would like to think he would use some other tactic.”
She frowned at him, “It was still reckless, did you see how close the freighters were?”
“They were over three kilometers apart. Sha, you have to throw caution to the wind occasionally and take chances. Sometimes they’ll pay off, sometimes you’ll have a mess on your hands. Welcome to the command life.”
Captain Mifune was about to reply to that when Amell’s communicator beeped. “This is Amell.”
“Commodore, this is Ven-Kata. I must speak to you immediately.”
“Colonel, I am with the Captain in her quarters reviewing some maneuver logs. Please feel free to join us.”
Mifune reached over to the comm panel on her desk, “Gef, please have a pot of caff and some light snacks brought to my quarters.”
*****
“So you want to take some of the troopers, the captured freighter and jump into Lianshi and try to capture one of the Golan platforms? I would call that a high risk operation. Even with an expected level of subterfuge to gain access to the defense station, there is far too much that can go wrong. I am going to have to say no.” He sat back and sipped from his steaming cup of caff.
“Commodore, Vice-Admiral Sukhuhai has already given his approval. There are already crews replacing the hyperdrive.”
Mifune stopped in mid-stir, streaks of white crem swirling through the deep brown caff. Circumventing the chain of command was a good way to get one's behind booted out of a unit, regardless of whether one was a Jedi or not.
Amell sighed, “If that’s the case, take half the trooper compliment of the Acheron. Do you have a plan?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t go to the fresher without a plan!” the Jedi smiled at Amell. “We will jump out as close as possible to the platform. Hopefully, close enough to trigger their proximity alarms. We will have some drive problems and not be able to move to port under our own power. Fortunately, one of the shipyards is co-located with that defense platform. While we arrange for a repair crew, a team of troopers outfitted for extra-vehicular duties will make their way to the main antenna array and disable it. This should prevent any calls for help without affecting communications in the immediate area.
“Once that is taken care of, we will dock and allow the repair crew to enter. After we secure them in the brig, we will storm the facilities. The troopers are all well versed in capturing ships and stations, so it is my hope that this will go smoothly and quickly. Once we are in control of the station, we could assist with rear area fire from the platform guns.”
“We will adjust our fire so as not to fire on this platform provided we receive your…No. Better yet, a recon fighter will jump into the outer system at the same time as you. Once you storm the station, signal the recon fighter. The fighter jumps back and then the fleet jumps in.”
“Why?”
“Just a feeling. But, at least your team won’t have to worry about the platform crew receiving reinforcements.”
“Commodore, I also need to speak with the freighter’s second in command.”
“I’ll make the arrangements."
Kotur gulped down the hot caff and stood, “In that case, I have very little time.” He turned and exited the cabin.
A troubled Amell looked at Mifune, “Should I trust him, Sha?”
The question surprised her, “The Jedi have been around for thousands of years, before even the Republic. And with few exceptions, they have always worked for the better of the Republic and the people." She nodded, " I think so.”
“Sometimes they go bad, though.”
“I don’t get that feeling from the Colonel. He’s too happy. We all know the stories of Exar Kun.”
Bes harrumphed at the mention of Exar Kun, “Fairy tales and non-sense. Tales to frighten children!”
She flashed him an amused smile, “Well then, there is nothing to worry about.”
Dinsdale!