Let's Play: Star Wars Empire at War

[Peptuck]

Sweet, I got both epic heroic action and a hilarious death!

[Samuel]

The joy of expendable fighter units. Since you have Kuat, you can produce ISDs- how long till the tech lets you do so?

[Starglider]

"Negotiate? With scum like that?"

Weemadando's was technically a Moff, but everyone called him 'The Director'. Director of Strategic Intelligence, Loyalty Assurance and Deviancy Correction, to use the department's full title. Recently at least a quarter of his job seemed to consist of trying to persuade the Emperor to give his methods time to work.

"Sir, it would avoid the need to garrison the planet, and destroy all those facilities. I'm sure that given time, we could put our own people in positions..."

"For the last time Director, we don't have that luxury. This system is critical to our defences and I will not leave it in the hands of an unreliable, corrupt and worst of all incompetent petty tyrant."

"But is it necessary to risk your own person? Aside from the leadership vacuum, the blow to morale if you should be killed..."

"It is the only way. Captain Gaius's bravery is commendable, but the Maulers still aren't ready, and without them we could lose the bulk of our forces in this one invasion. Now, enough talk, prepare my shuttle. I must meditate before the battle."

---

Captain 'Ninja' Scottish surveyed the clearing one last time before putting his scope away. It seemed clear, as close as they could get to the enemy stronghold without running into the regular patrols. He formed up his men in the open space, then pressed a stud on his communicator that sent a burst signal to the assault shuttles waiting above.



His recon squads had already located three encampments full of civilians ready to assist the Empire. Scottish wasn't convinced that they'd bought his promises of a better life under the Empire, but it couldn't be worse than the slavery and squalor that was their current lot. He'd given them crates of light blasters and told them to wait for the signal. It was time for that signal now; he pressed the stud again, and the partisans sprang to life.



The two critical areas were the clearing close to the enemy base, and a damaged sensor tower on a track through the woodland. The former could be used to land reinforcements, and the later would neutralise the jamming and allow the enemy base to be scanned - and targeted from orbit. His techs had already repaired the sensor tower, at least sufficiently for their needs, but bringing it on line prematurely would have simply resulted in its destruction.

Tense seconds passed as Captain Scottish waited for confirmation. When it came, it was clear that Charlie had already started dancing the Foxtrot.

"Captain, the patrol was ahead of schedule. They've found us!"



Some of the partisans made a desperate rush to the sensor tower, while others held off the enemy walkers.



The lightly armed civilians were horribly outgunned, but they fought on valiantly. Perhaps they had taken Scottish's description of a new hope in a dark galaxy to heart.



Few partisans remained alive, but they had accomplished their objective; the sensor tower was online. Captain Scottish's electronic map flickered and expanded, revealing the extent of the enemy base;



"Good work Captain." 'That's the Emperor himself!' Scottish thought, with a mixture of pride and alarm. "We're on final now." Meanwhile the second group of partisans were also taking heavy casualties, as they fought for the enemy landing zone.



Scottish wished he could help them, but defence of this landing zone had to come first. With a dull roar the bulky cargo shuttles descended and began to disgorge Imperial walkers, while a softer whine heralded the arrival of a gunship and a VIP shuttle. The Captain ordered his men to haul the supply crates off the shuttles so that they could get airborne again as soon as possible; they hadn't seen any enemy air cover, but no one wanted to take any chances. Within minutes the crates were being unpacked into defence guns, a medical unit and a repair station.



Emperor Wong stood, surveying the forest clearing, while Captain Scottish worked up the courage to speak. "Sir, the partisans have partial control of the second LZ, but they're taking heavy casualties. Permission to attempt a hot drop in support?"

"Is there still no indication of enemy air defences?"

"No sir."

"Very well. Proceed."

Unfortuantely by the time the platoons of AT-STs and Stormtroopers arrived on the scene, most of the partisans were dead or dying. Captain Scottish brought up his video link. The fourth platoon consisted of HPCA troops, which he was almost certain were flash-cloned. There drill precision was impressive, but they were sorely lacking in common sense. Their commander sighted an enemy walker, and opened fire.

"Liberal scum! Men, target that tool of big government!"



"Lieutenant, take the bunker, that's an order!" Captain Scottish looked on in horror as the men held their ground in the face of the walker's advance.

"We must take a stand against the liberals destroying our galaxy!"

"Lieutenant, I am ordering you to..." It was too late.



Fortunately the 'selfless sacrifice' of the HPCA Stormtroopers had kept the enemy pod walkers distracted long enough for Captain 'Brother' Gaius's lead AT-ST platoon to take them out. The platoon pushed the remaining enemy infantry back up the ridge towards the enemy base, but came under heavy fire from defensive turbolaser towers.



The Imperial walkers barely managing to disengage, taking heavy damage in the retreat. Captain Gaius resolved to wait at the second LZ for the main force. He could see enemy infantry moving just out of blaster range, as if tempting him to expose his walkers to the turbolaser towers again. But perhaps there were other options...

"Samuel, this is Gaius, can you offer ortillery cover yet?"

"Negative Captain, we're still burning through the shields. We've got a flight of bombers under the shield though, flew them through an occluded valley. Only three I'm afraid, we lost nearly the entire wing taking out their asteroid base."

"I'll take whatever you've got. Transmitting co-ordinates."



"That's a hit! Congratulate those pilots for me." Gaius switched channels. "Brother to Ninja, confirm outer base defences down, I think some infantry slipped past us though, probably heading for your sensor tower."

The voice that responded did not belong to Captain Scottish. "Thank you commander, I am sure the matter is in hand."

The thugs jogging towards the tower had a simple mission; destroy it before the enemy could start raining down turbolaser fire at will. They would have succeeded too, if it weren't for the armoured figure that now crested the treeline, supported by twin pillars of flame. They had time only for a few stray shots before Stark was on the ground and igniting his flamethrower.



In five seconds the whole squad became screaming humanoid torches. Back at the forward landing zone, fresh forces from the warlord base had forced Captain Gaius to abandon his position. That was the end of their advance, for Emperor Wong had arrived on the scene.



He wasted no time in using his telepathic powers to convert the enemy to the Empire's cause.



Unfortunately the brainwashing rarely held for more than an hour, so there was no question of making these turncoat units a permanent part of the Empire's forces. Indeed, when the effect did wear off it tended to leave the subjects with an intense hatred of the Empire that even Director Weemadando's most 'persuasive' techniques could not erase. So there was only one thing for it; make the enemy units battle each other for the Emperor's amusement;



One enemy walker was left standing after the brainwashed walker and speeder had shot their last, but a group of brainwashed enemy rocket troopers soon had that obstruction cleared;



"Gaius" Captain Samuel's voice reached down from orbit. "We're starting to get penetration on the theatre shield. Another salvo should break through. Do you have a target for me?"

"Will do in a few minutes, stand by." Captain Gaius was busy transferring his command, not to mention himself from one of the badly damaged AT-STs to a fresh walker that had arrived from the rear landing site. He ordered the damaged units back to the LZ where the infantry should have repair droids running by now; the machines looked strangely organic in the way they limped down the track. Captain Gaius shook his head. He'd yet to fathom the rationale behind the complex and fragile AT-STs, but he'd be glad when the production crews could finally manufacture proper tanks.

The ridge had worked in favour of the first row of turrets, but it put the second row at a disadvantage. Captain Gaius was able to get a fix on them before enough of the walker had been exposed for them to take a shot at him. "Captain Samuel, salvo on these co-ordinates please."



The turbolaser bolts were severely weakened passing through the remenants of the theatre shield. Even so they were enough obliterate the heavily armored defence towers, and create an artificial earthquake that shook Gaius's walkers from several hundred metres away. Meanwhile, the four damaged walkers from the first engagement had all made it back successfully and were under repair;



Gaius continued to stare through his scope. He switched channels; "I'm seeing some workshops at the back of the base... perhaps ten walkers and assorted infantry between us and them... looks like they're repairing damaged skimmers in there. Your orders, Emperor?"

"I will accompany you in a frontal assault. Stark will destroy the production facility."

Stark had in fact just heaved a fallen panel out from the wrecked civilian dwellings, and exposed one of the more attractive specimens of the planet's female population. "Of course, Emperor. Right away." He stared at the young woman for a moment; she managed a weak smile. Stark tapped his communicator. "Hey, bomber squadron, you still up there? Great, any torpedo's left? Right, I need you to take care of something for me..."



"Now baby, where were we..."

Emperor Wong was having his own kind of fun as the main force crested the ridge;



The AT-STs burst into the base and started blasting the defending infantry, only to come under rocket attack from the one surviving pillbox. One AT-ST took a hit to the leg and went down hard; Captain Gaius's walker took a rocket on the glacis plate and remained standing, though the main armament was scrap.



"Fall back. I will deal with this."

The Emperor unleashed his unnatural telekinetic powers on the bunker. Rockets streaked out towards him, but were batted aside by some unseen force. The building shook, cracked and began to collapse. The enemy defenders struggled out of the ruins, only to find themselves forced to change their allegiance.



The rocket troopers fought the remaining enemy walkers until every last one of their number had been cut down by laser fire. Only a single pod walker remained, hanging back at the very rear of the enemy base. It turned and began a desperate attempt to flee; Emperor Wong could sense that it was piloted by the enemy warlord. He rushed forward in a telekinetic burst of speed, and easily flanked the damaged and limping walker. One swing of his lightsaber and it was over.



The enemy base lay in ruins, its owner dead. With the head cut off and the heart burned out, mopping up his opponent's remaining forces would be trivial. The Emperor had never even bothered to learn the man's name.



As you can see, no important units were lost;



We discovered significant and unusual shipyard facilities in orbit; tech teams are investigating now that the planet is secured. On a final note, Stark has declared that the system will be renamed 'Peptuck'. At the victory celebrations he proclaimed "I do this both to commemorate a big damn hero, and as a warning to future fighter pilots that 'Friendly Fire Isn't'".

----

The joy of expendable fighter units. Since you have Kuat, you can produce ISDs- how long till the tech lets you do so?

ISDs are tech level 4. We are at tech level 1. Research on tech level 2 is 46% complete. Perhaps we need more than two research labs.

[Darkevilme]

Now requesting a warship of my very own. Name: The Grasping Hand Of Inevitable Destruction.

[Crossroads Inc.]

I am joining this armada as well... If at all posisble I wish to be Cpt Crossroads, of the Starship Studibaker!

[Decue]

I'm also signing up, I wish to command the Indestructible if possible.

[Darth Yoshi]

The Indestructible? That's just asking for a hilariously ironic death.

[Darkevilme]

Yeah i think the same thing. Why not just name it the Titanic? anyway. onwards for the glory of SDN

[Decue]

The Indestructible? That's just asking for a hilariously ironic death.

If there is a way to go hilariously ironic is the way. And there is always the Indestructible II
Titanic is for wannabes :p

[Starglider]

Fortunately Task Force Persecutor was already in transit back to SDN when the signal came; were it not for that piece of luck, the fight would have been over within minutes.

“ASVS Control to INS Terix, do you copy? We have a mass of traces inbound, at least six destroyer sized ships plus numerous smaller contacts. INS Terix, can you assist?”

“Station Control, this is Captain Samuel, we copy, stand by.” Orders sir?

“Divert to ASVS. All ships will maximise their drives, regardless of damage. We must arrive in time to hold the station.”



In fact the task force arrived just twelve minutes before the unknown contacts crossed the edge of the system. Their identity did not remain a mystery for long; immediately after dropping out of hyperspace into high orbit, they sent a transmission.

“Foolish humanists, your pathetic attempts to create order are as nothing before the true lords of this galaxy. Your ships cannot shield you from holy wrath, your soldiers cannot stop our dark crusade!” The tone was crazed, rising to a scream. “I am Darth Yoshi, and I come for your souls! Blood for the blood god!”

Commodore Samuel waved to the communications officer, and the ranting voice was cut off. “Let's hope they use the same level careful deliberation in planning their attack.” He made one last check of the fleet's disposition before the engagement began. The tactical situation was unfavourable, but not impossible. Counting the station's guns and fighters, they were only outnumbered 3 to 2. The badly damaged INS Syndrome and INS Tantra had been left behind at the Peptuck system, but they were joined by two Acclamators tasked with defending the system; the INS Parasite and INS Indestructible.



“Captain Engima, as soon as we have confirmation of the attack direction, pull your Broadswords back. Commander Knight, they'll likely send those bombers in first, stand ready to intercept.”

Samuel's guess was correct; waves of enemy bombers approached, escorted by space superiority fighters whose hulls had been crudely dabbed with blood red paint.



At least Samuel hoped it was blood. In the distance behind them were two frigates of such ungainly and unlikely construction it was amazing the enemy was able to field them. Commander Knight's Tartan gunships surged ahead and began cutting into the bombers, while a cloud of TIE Avengers descended on the X-shaped fighters.

“Maneuver us to fire on those frigates. Tell the Ford and the Losonti to follow us, the Parasite and the Indestructible can guard the station.” The enemy frigates seemed to be hanging back. 'Perhaps they have intel on our missile ships?' Samuel thought.

The enemy tactic was revealed a few minutes later, when a wave of ships emerged from a dust cloud and hit the defending fleet in the flank. These weren't the spindly frigates that had served as a diversion, they were blocky, no-nonsense light destroyers escorted by speeding gunships.



“Reform, reform! Bomber wing, focus on the lead pair of destroyers. Damn, they're going after the Losonti...”

The bridge of the INS Losonti bucked and shook from incoming fire. Two destroyers and a pair of gunships were pouring fire into her, pounding her shields into oblivion and tearing pieces from her superstructure. The Acclamator had been designed as an assault transport, and despite the Empire's added weapons her shields and armour could not compare to that of a real destroyer. Captain Tokash desperately ordered a hard turn and flank speed, but the engines were already failing.



“All hands, abandon ship! Abandon...” It was too late. A final barrage of turbolaser fire tore into the heart of the ship and cracked the main reactor in half. The resulting explosion tore the ship apart, and the following wave of concussion missiles destroyed every escape pod that the crew had managed to launch.



However this victory had not come without cost for the attackers. On the bridge of the INS Sphinx, Captain Engima analysed the firing solution and found it good.

“All tubes, maximum yield, Fire!”

A spray of missiles streaked out from the two Broadsword cruisers, corkscrewing through space as they weaved through the enemy's point defence fire. Many exploded before contact, but the majority struck home, blasting gaping holes in the hulls of the blocky cultist ships. The INS Terix and the remaining Acclamators focused their fire on the lead destroyer, finishing the job and blowing it to fragments.

“Commodore Samuel, fall back to the station, we can cover you with our guns while your shields recover.” It was Grand Moff Stuart's voice, coming from station control.

Meanwhile Commander Knight's Tartan gunships were trying to hold off the light frigates, now numbering three. Their bizarre configuration didn't prevent them from mounting a powerful assortment of weapons, and the Tartans were soon on the brink of losing shields. Their hulls were still scared from the engagement at the Peptuck system, and wouldn't last long once the shields were gone.

“Commodore this is Knight, we're being overrun out here, can you spare any support?”



“Negative Commander, the destroyers have us pinned down. Fall back to the station if you can.”

“Belay that Commander”. It was the Grand Moff's voice again. “We've scraped up a fresh wing of bombers, filled them with techs and trainees. They're coming your way – they're green, but if you've taken out the fighter cover they should do ok.”

In the cockpit of the lead bomber, the newly minted Lieutenant Redleader was sweating profusely. With all experienced pilots already engaged or dead, he was in command by virtue of being the trainee with the highest marks in command exercises.

“Steady everyone! We can do this, it's just like the simulations.”



As the bombers closed one Tartan exploded in a shower of fragments, but both lead frigates had taken significant damage.

“Squadron Alpha, release! Beta, release! Delta, release!” In his excitement Redleader almost forgot to thumb his own pickle switch.



The cascade of proton torpedoes slammed into the side of enemy frigates, tearing apart their flimsy skeletons and shattering their internal modules like overheated eggs. Shouts and whoops of joy filled the comm channel as the rookies celebrated their first pair of kills. “Pilots! We can celebrate later. This battle isn't won yet.” Redleader turned his bomber towards the remaining destroyers.

Back at the station, the ordered withdrawal was anything but. The INS Indestructible was trailing due to engine damage and the damage to her systems was mounting fast. One lucky shot made it through the failing shields and struck near the bridge, smashing control systems and staring fires through the superstructure. Captain Deuce stared in horror as his maimed bridge crew succumbed to the smoke and flames.

“Parasite, can you assist? Vortex, we're on the ropes here, the bridge is a mess, we've lost helm and fire control.”



“Damn the retreat!” shouted Captain Vortex, “I want that destroyer dead! Overload the generators, ram her if you have to, but silence those guns!” The INS Parasite surged forward in a desperate attempt to save her sister ship. The gambit worked; the second enemy destroyer had been taking continous fire for the last ten minutes and the Acclamator's alpha strike was too much for her tortured hull to resist. The cultist ship broke into flaming fragments and the INS Indestructible was granted a stay of execution.

By now the bridge had depressurised, and Captain Deuce was commanding from a secondary control station. He could see that the reprieve would be brief; fresh waves of cultist fighters were already hounding the retreating Imperial flagship, and it wouldn't be long before they reached his ship. It was little more than a wreck in any case, every weapon emplacement and most of the internal systems were scrap. With a tear in his eye, Deuce gave the order to abandon ship, formed up his few remaining bridge officers, and headed for the nearest escape pod.



The situation on the INS Terix was rapidly heading the same way. The ship was within range of the station's defensive fire, but the enemy capital ships were standing off, letting their bombers close for the kill. The unweildy station guns had little luck targeting the tiny bombers and the enemy gunships had managed to kill off most of the friendly fighter cover before withdrawing. The Terix's shields began to buckle from the repeated torpedo strikes, and she was forced to maneuver behind the Broadswords in search of cover. The third and final enemy destroyer was now within range of the hulk of the INS Indestructible, and a quick barrage put her out of her misery.



The situation continued to deteriorate as a new enemy gunship appeared, bloated to the size of a frigate with a ludicrous number of strap on engine pods and weapon emplacements. It was Darth Yoshi's personal flagship, and it was now ready to rain death on his enemies. Meanwhile the bombers continued to pound the INS Terix, blowing the flank turbolaser clusters clean off the hull, and exposing her internal skeleton.



Fresh fighter cover finally arrived and blasted the bombers out of existence, but not before the INS Terix lost all power and helm control. Commodore Samuel was forced to clench his teeth in frustration as the flagship drifted toward the station. Meanwhile, the final enemy destroyer was closing for the kill, shrugging off the sporadic fire coming from the station.

In their fixation on the capital ships, the cultists hadn't been paying attention to Redleader's bombers. Just as the enemy destroyer began to fire on the crippled INS Terrix, his bomber wing started their torpedo runs. Proton explosives made short work of the destroyer's engine block, opening the way for sustained fire from Commander Knight's remaining two gunships. The hail of laser fire found its way into the reactor section, and the last enemy destroyer disintegrated in a wash plasma.



“Drop the shields, now.”

“Sir, the enemy is still firing on us, if we...”

“Just drop the shields damnit, unless you want to face court martial for destroying the Imperial flagship!” The Grand Moff's face was livid – if the Terrix impacted the station's shields in its current condition it would be torn apart. Instead the shields came down in time, and with a sickening, screetching crunch the flagship embedded its nose in the station's crossbar.



Despite the gravity of the situation, Commodore Samuel couldn't help wondering what this would do to his insurance premiums.

Fortunately the lack of shields didn't result in further damage to the station, but unfortuantely that was because Darth Yoshi and the final enemy frigate were going after the Broadsword artillery ships. Captain Engima tried every trick he knew to outrun the enemy, but his ships had neither high speed nor heavy shielding.

“Concentrate all fire on that super gunship!” ordered Stuart desperately, as the INS Sphinx began to break up under concentrated bombardment. It was too late, Darth Yoshi's maniacal laugher filled the comms channels as he killed each Broadsword in turn, then compulsively eliminated the escape pods with laser fire.



The comm channels fell silent. No further orders were necessary. With grim resolve the remaining Imperial forces would ensured that Yoshi's victory was a Pyrrhic one. The station, bombers and Imperial gunships poured fire into the enemy flagship until is was vapour, not even flinching as a second of Commander Knight's Tartans was destroyed by the enemy's death throes.



Captain Prefect led the INS Ford and the INS Parasite in obliterating the remaining frigate, then mopping up the remaining enemy fighters.



Unfortunately two enemy gunships managed to escape into hyperspace, but after their crushing defeat and failure to seriously damage the defences they would not be in a hurry to return.



Imperial losses : Acclamators INS Losonti and INS Indestructible, destroyed. Victory class flagship INS Terix heavily damaged. Two Tartan gunships destroyed, heavy attrition to all fighter wings, two outlying laser turrets destroyed, minor structural damage to the main ASVS defence station.

Cultist losses : Three destroyers, three frigates and their flagship super-gunship destroyed. Several wings heavy fighters destroyed. Two gunships heavily damaged. Enemy leader Darth Yoshi killed.

This victory affirms the Empire's ability to defend its worlds against all comers, but the cost was heavy. Over a third of our navy was destroyed in this engagement, and another third is heavily damaged. The Broadsword class cruisers are currently irreplaceable, although we are close to replicating their missile guidance systems.

In the wake of this battle Grand Moff Stuart has been recalled to SDN to concentrate on 'special projects'. The INS Terix has repair priority, as it is the flagship and a symbol of Imperial pride. Commodore Samuel has been suspended from duty pending a review board. Captain Deuce has been suspended and confined to quarters pending a court martial. Captain Ford is temporarily in charge of our defence fleet at ASVS.

[Darth Yoshi]

Awesome! Blood for the blood god!

You may have destroyed my flagship and atomized my body, but my brothers will return. Oh yes, they will return.

[Peptuck]

Oh jeez, I'm a planet now.

That is awesome.

[Samuel]

The mod doesn't allow you to do research in defensive battles?

At least Samuel hoped it was blood.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Commodore Samuel couldn't help wondering what this would do to his insurance premiums.

Pretty bad. Now they only cover the first quarter- the rest I have to pay out of my own pocket and they don't factor in paint or smoothing out bumps or other cosmetic work.

Commodore Samuel has been suspended from duty pending a review board.

Bloody Moff ... oh well, if I get demoted I might end up being "only" a ISD captain. Or if I get lucky... hmm, do you intend to restart the SSD program? I heard we have the blueprints for the Soverign style

[Starglider]

At least Samuel hoped it was blood.

(laughs)

Of course I meant to write 'hoped it was paint', but I subconsciously switched it and didn't catch it in the review. And of course now it's too late to edit, so you're stuck with being characterised as a closet psychopath.

[Temjin]

Oh jeez, I'm a planet now.

That is awesome.

Too... Many... Fat... Jokes... Can't... Choose...

In other news, Awesome update Starglider. My only complaint is that it could have used more me.

[The Vortex Empire]

I almost saved the Indestructible, eh? Oh well, at least the Parasite survived this battle.

[Starglider]

“We cannot continue to rely on these upgunned troop transports. Not even for another three months. Our fledgeling galactic Empire might not survive another victory as costly as the one over ASVS.” The Emperor stared down at Grand Moff Stuart, forced to kneel on the floor of the council chamber.

“My lord, the large warship programs simply cannot be accelerated any further. All personnel with even remotely useful skills have already been assigned. There are unavoidable bottlenecks in the production of long lead time components...”

“Enough! It is your job to furnish me with options. If you cannot do that, perhaps I should find someone more able to manage my fleet.”

“Well, there is one possibility... my lord. A cathar female, I don't believe I've mentioned her, name is unpronouncable by humans anyway. I have her running a backup project, aiming to make use of the most damaged and obsolete wrecks we've found. She has hybrid designs that look good on paper, but I'm dubious about their practicality.”

“If I haven't already made it clear enough, we need to give our fleet some backbone in the next month. Another attack could come at any time. Make it happen, Stuart.”

The Grand Moff sighed. What did it translate as again, something like 'Dark Evil Me' wasn't it?

--------

Across the four worlds (and one asteroid belt) of the Rationalist Empire, efforts were redoubled (and shifts simply doubled). The salvage teams worked around the clock, while in the labs scientists struggled to relearn Imperial science from the data pieced back together by the computer techs. Production facilities were expanded in anticipation of new vehicle designs.



The Strike-class assault frigate was Darkevilme's brainchild. It's shielding and armour were only slightly weaker than a Victory class destroyer, while its weapons array was considerably larger, all for only slightly more resources than a reconditions Acclamator. So what if it was underpowered, unreliable and completely lacking in organic fighter cover? It was the right ship at the right time, or at least so the felinoid woman hoped. Its companion Carrack-class was simply an old design, found abundantly and relatively intact in orbital scrapyards, retrofitted with engines and gatling laser canon salvaged from recent wrecks. It should be a noticeable upgrade from the lightly built Tartan gunships.

At the other end of the capital ship size scale, Moff Sea Skimmer had his own personal project. The Empire's capabilities had finally advanced enough to put limited reactivation of HPCA's largest orbital shipyards within the realms of possibility. His request for funding was worded as close to being a demand as possible without being outright treason. Emperor Wong took offence at the tone and sent back an angry reply stating that fresh ships and strengthened defences took priority over pipe dreams and vanity projects.

Commodore Samuel was cleared of wrongdoing by the Imperial review committee. Although no-one was happy about the flagship of the fleet ramming a system defence station under his command, the needs of propaganda dictated that he be made a hero in the press. Grand Moff Stuart's objections were overruled and the Commodore was placed in charge of the newly formed strike fleet, though the Grand Moff did manage to veto his promotion. The Emperor himself made it clear that this was a chance to redeem himself and that he had better not screw it up.

Task Force Assimilator formed up in high orbit over SDN. Its mission was to deliver three things the Empire desperately needed; more resources, a larger recruiting base and an overwhelming victory to keep morale high. Of the remaining warlords bordering Imperial space, the Grand Moff had selected the Butcher of Fresia at the target. Ongoing despatches from the Companion Cube droids there suggested that this brutal dictator had already overextended himself in occupying a second habitable system, and that he was so hated by the local populace that the Empire was sure to find local allies.



The jump order was given, and the fleet formed up in orbit of the sole inhabited planet. As with Rendili, the system's defence control centre had been constructed inside a mined out asteroid. Wrecked and abandoned in the Decimation, the Butcher's forces had made what repairs they could. It was a pale shadow of the former Imperial defences, but that was just as well, as the new Empire's entire fleet would have barely rated as a patrol group in the pre-Decimation navy.

As before the task force was led by the the Empire's sole Victory class destroyer, the INS Terix. Though the rents in her hull had been plated over, she still bore significant internal damage from the desperate battle as ASVS. Thus Commodore Samuel ordered engines slow, allowing his flagship to drop back to the rear of the formation. The Acclamators INS Parasite and INS Ford slid forward into the centre of the group, while the two new assault frigates took the lead. One had a name unpronouncable to humans, though it was on the register as 'INS Gripping Appendage Very Likely To Cause Severe Disablement'. Her officers tended to look embarassed and try to change the subject when the issue of what to call the ship came up, and tended to refer to the ship as the 'Gripper', though not when their felinoid captain was in earshot.

The second ship also had a bizarre registration; the 'Starship Studibaker' had been named while under construction as an armoured trader and explorer. The desperate scrabble for capital ships had given Darkevilme the authority to requisition the hull and complete it as an assault frigate, but the bureaucrats at the Fleet Administration Office had inexplicably refused to accept a change of name or captain. As a result the bridge was held by the newly commissioned and very nervous looking Commander Crossroads. He sincerely hoped that staying up all night cramming from the 'Big Book of Fleet Combat'* had prepared him sufficiently for the battle. Rounding out the fleet was Captain Knight's Tartan gunship INS Karmic, the sole survivor of his original four-ship squadron. So far the Empire had only been able to provide one replacement, the INS Sutra, though rumours abounded that this was not because of production issues, but because Knight's squadron was now said to be cursed.

* revised 3rd edition, GSBN 3EA82B13-4D2-59CF, © 3 ABY, HAB External Publications Office



That description could have applied just as readily to Commander Temjin's TIE scouts, which had yet to complete an engagement without at least one casualty. After many sleepless nights he had resolved to take a more cautious approach in future. His scout wing peeled away cleanly after sighting the first wave of enemy fighters, allowing the Tartans and the Avengers to engage. They promptly began slicing through the warlord forces under the experienced direction of Commander Knight.

Commodore Samuel directed the fleet in a wide arc around the fighters, guessing that the two enemy destroyers would be deployed between the fighters and the station. A dense clump of asteroids passing near the station should serve to mask their approach... unless... perhaps it was just too convenient.

“All ships, weapons hot. Sensors active, I want focused scans of those rocks. Look for resonance, they could be hiding behind screens.”

“Yes sir... sir, you're right, there's definitely something funny about those large clumps. Wait, getting reactor signatures now, three... no four, powering up.”

“Barrage fire now! All batteries!”

Inteligence had been wrong; there were no less than four enemy destroyers, who had set a trap for the Imperial fleet. If the ambush had been successful Commodore Samuel's command would have quite likely been wiped out. The tables had turned however, and the shields of the enemy destroyers crackled and sputtered under turbolaser fire even as they struggled to free themselves from their rocky coocoons. They ploughed forward regardless, accompanied by several gunships and horde of fighters. Many of the later didn't even make it to clear space; Imperial turbolaser bolts shattered the smaller asteroids, creating a frenetic orgy of kinetic doom that tore through the fighters like buckshot.



“Yes, yes, fire at will, we are the hunters and they are our prey!” Captain Darkevilme was ecstatic. ”Crossroads, we will combine fire on the closest destroyer, do keep up.” The two spindle shaped assault frigates powered forward, almost as if they were going to impale the enemy destroyer.



Commander Crossroads distinctly recalled reading in the Big Book of Fleet Comabt that ramming was strictly a tactic of last resort and even then rarely useful, but he nervously wondered if Darkevilme knew or indeed cared.

“That's it, pick off their gunships, that'll leave them unsupported.” Commodore Samuel frowned. The enemy were taking horrible losses, but they hadn't broken. In fact they seemed to be regaining some measure of discipline after the initial chaos. One destroyer was almost out of the fight, but the other three were still in the game and began to concentrate fire on the INS Ford.



“Taking hull hits sir!” The ensign's announcement was somewhat redundant, as Captain Prefect could see the damage control displays well enough, not to mention feel the hits through the vibrations of the deck.

“Helm, 60 degrees port, maintain speed. Take us away from the destroyers to starboard, but don't expose the engines.” A brilliant flash lit the bridge as the two assault frigates took out the destroyer furthest from his position. A cheer came up from the bridge crew, but it was quickly snuffed out by thundering explosion that spalled fragments of ultradense plastic from the ceiling. A glance at the damage control display confirmed it; the primary shield grid was down.

“Ford to Terix, our shields are out. Advise that if we take another minute of this we'll be scrap.”

Commodore Samuel was determined not to lose another ship. “Gripper, Studibaker, I want you on top of bandit B, supressesion fire, shut them down ASAP!”

“Parasite, bandit D's armour is breached, follow our lead and go for a reactor hit.” He nodded to his gunnery officer.



Terix's heavy guns struck home, and a second enemy destroyer exploded into a shower of flaming debris.



The fleet switched fire to the third target, now joined by Commander Knight's gunships, which had finished sweeping the enemy fighters from space (or so they thought). The nerve of the enemy destroyer captain finally broke and the ship desperately tried to turn and run. It was far too late. A concussion missile spread from the INS Parasite sealed his fate.



Meanwhile Darkevilme's assault frigates had thundred through the wreckage of their first kill, which was still aflame with secondary explosions and bore down on the last target. At the last moment the two ships split apart, flanking the enemy destroyer on both sides and raking it with a hail of point-blank missile and turbolaser fire. Even the TIE Interceptors tried to join in the fun as the final enemy capital ship was despatched.



"Ahh, well done Crossroads, it looks like you have mastered basic helm commands after all."

Crossroads was still panting, almost retching from the excitement and terror of his first fleet combat. "Err... thank you... Captain. A pleasure... to assist."

The INS Ford had been saved; from a distance the damage looked bad, but the shots had hit mainly non-essential areas. The leaking coolant slowly slackened off as the crew isolated the damaged sections.



All that was left now was the enemy asteroid base, which had been out of range for the entire engagement, and a single strike fighter squadron. Filled with rookie conscripts, the fighters had taken one look at the wholesale slaughter Commander Knight was inflicting on their comrades and fled... right into Commander Temjin's TIE scout wing, which had been circling the edge of the battlefield. Most of the enemy fighters didn't even try to engage, but one panicked pilot unloaded his full payload of concussion missiles, which streaked out and blew apart the trailing ship in Temjin's formation.

"Damnit! That's... Fuck you, screwheads! Form up on me, we are taking these bastards down."

Despite their light armament, the TIE scouts made short work of the enemy fighters; Temjin personally took down four of their number. It felt good... but he was still mad as hell.

“We cannot continue to rely on these upgunned troop transports. Not even for another three months. Our fledgeling galactic Empire might not survive another victory as costly as the one over ASVS.” The Emperor stared down at Grand Moff Stuart, forced to kneel on the floor of the council chamber.

“My lord, the large warship programs simply cannot be accelerated any further. All personnel with even remotely useful skills have already been assigned. There are unavoidable bottlenecks in the production of long lead time components...”

“Enough! It is your job to furnish me with options. If you cannot do that, perhaps I should find someone more able to manage my fleet.”

“Well, there is one possibility... my lord. A cathar female, I don't believe I've mentioned her, name is unpronouncable by humans anyway. I have her running a backup project, aiming to make use of the most damaged and obsolete wrecks we've found. She has hybrid designs that look good on paper, but I'm dubious about their practicality.”

“If I haven't already made it clear enough, we need to give our fleet some backbone in the next month. Another attack could come at any time. Make it happen, Stuart.”

The Grand Moff sighed. What did it translate as again, something like 'Dark Evil Me' wasn't it?

--------

Across the four worlds (and one asteroid belt) of the Rationalist Empire, efforts were redoubled (and shifts simply doubled). The salvage teams worked around the clock, while in the labs scientists struggled to relearn Imperial science from the data pieced back together by the computer techs. Production facilities were expanded in anticipation of new vehicle designs.



The Strike-class assault frigate was Darkevilme's brainchild. It's shielding and armour were only slightly weaker than a Victory class destroyer, while its weapons array was considerably larger, all for only slightly more resources than a reconditions Acclamator. So what if it was underpowered, unreliable and completely lacking in organic fighter cover? It was the right ship at the right time, or at least so the felinoid woman hoped. Its companion Carrack-class was simply an old design, found abundantly and relatively intact in orbital scrapyards, retrofitted with engines and gatling laser canon salvaged from recent wrecks. It should be a noticeable upgrade from the lightly built Tartan gunships.

At the other end of the capital ship size scale, Moff Sea Skimmer had his own personal project. The Empire's capabilities had finally advanced enough to put limited reactivation of HPCA's largest orbital shipyards within the realms of possibility. His request for funding was worded as close to being a demand as possible without being outright treason. Emperor Wong took offence at the tone and sent back an angry reply stating that fresh ships and strengthened defences took priority over pipe dreams and vanity projects.

Commodore Samuel was cleared of wrongdoing by the Imperial review committee. Although no-one was happy about the flagship of the fleet ramming a system defence station under his command, the needs of propaganda dictated that he be made a hero in the press. Grand Moff Stuart's objections were overruled and the Commodore was placed in charge of the newly formed strike fleet, though the Grand Moff did manage to veto his promotion. The Emperor himself made it clear that this was a chance to redeem himself and that he had better not screw it up.

Task Force Assimilator formed up in high orbit over SDN. Its mission was to deliver three things the Empire desperately needed; more resources, a larger recruiting base and an overwhelming victory to keep morale high. Of the remaining warlords bordering Imperial space, the Grand Moff had selected the Butcher of Fresia at the target. Ongoing despatches from the Companion Cube droids there suggested that this brutal dictator had already overextended himself in occupying a second habitable system, and that he was so hated by the local populace that the Empire was sure to find local allies.



The jump order was given, and the fleet formed up in orbit of the sole inhabited planet. As with Rendili, the system's defence control centre had been constructed inside a mined out asteroid. Wrecked and abandoned in the Decimation, the Butcher's forces had made what repairs they could. It was a pale shadow of the former Imperial defences, but that was just as well, as the new Empire's entire fleet would have barely rated as a patrol group in the pre-Decimation navy.

As before the task force was led by the the Empire's sole Victory class destroyer, the INS Terix. Though the rents in her hull had been plated over, she still bore significant internal damage from the desperate battle as ASVS. Thus Commodore Samuel ordered engines slow, allowing his flagship to drop back to the rear of the formation. The Acclamators INS Parasite and INS Ford slid forward into the centre of the group, while the two new assault frigates took the lead. One had a name unpronouncable to humans, though it was on the register as 'INS Gripping Appendage Very Likely To Cause Severe Disablement'. Her officers tended to look embarassed and try to change the subject when the issue of what to call the ship came up, and tended to refer to the ship as the 'Gripper', though not when their felinoid captain was in earshot.

The second ship also had a bizarre registration; the 'Starship Studibaker' had been named while under construction as an armoured trader and explorer. The desperate scrabble for capital ships had given Darkevilme the authority to requisition the hull and complete it as an assault frigate, but the bureaucrats at the Fleet Administration Office had inexplicably refused to accept a change of name or captain. As a result the bridge was held by the newly commissioned and very nervous looking Commander Crossroads. He sincerely hoped that staying up all night cramming from the 'Big Book of Fleet Combat'* had prepared him sufficiently for the battle. Rounding out the fleet was Captain Knight's Tartan gunship INS Karmic, the sole survivor of his original four-ship squadron. So far the Empire had only been able to provide one replacement, the INS Sutra, though rumours abounded that this was not because of production issues, but because Knight's squadron was now said to be cursed.

* revised 3rd edition, GSBN 3EA82B13-4D2-59CF, © 3 ABY, HAB External Publications Office



That description could have applied just as readily to Commander Temjin's TIE scouts, which had yet to complete an engagement without at least one casualty. After many sleepless nights he had resolved to take a more cautious approach in future. His scout wing peeled away cleanly after sighting the first wave of enemy fighters, allowing the Tartans and the Avengers to engage. They promptly began slicing through the warlord forces under the experienced direction of Commander Knight.

Commodore Samuel directed the fleet in a wide arc around the fighters, guessing that the two enemy destroyers would be deployed between the fighters and the station. A dense clump of asteroids passing near the station should serve to mask their approach... unless... perhaps it was just too convenient.

“All ships, weapons hot. Sensors active, I want focused scans of those rocks. Look for resonance, they could be hiding behind screens.”

“Yes sir... sir, you're right, there's definitely something funny about those large clumps. Wait, getting reactor signatures now, three... no four, powering up.”

“Barrage fire now! All batteries!”

Inteligence had been wrong; there were no less than four enemy destroyers, who had set a trap for the Imperial fleet. If the ambush had been successful Commodore Samuel's command would have quite likely been wiped out. The tables had turned however, and the shields of the enemy destroyers crackled and sputtered under turbolaser fire even as they struggled to free themselves from their rocky coocoons. They ploughed forward regardless, accompanied by several gunships and horde of fighters. Many of the later didn't even make it to clear space; Imperial turbolaser bolts shattered the smaller asteroids, creating a frenetic orgy of kinetic doom that tore through the fighters like buckshot.



“Yes, yes, fire at will, we are the hunters and they are our prey!” Captain Darkevilme was ecstatic. ”Crossroads, we will combine fire on the closest destroyer, do keep up.” The two spindle shaped assault frigates powered forward, almost as if they were going to impale the enemy destroyer.



Commander Crossroads distinctly recalled reading in the Big Book of Fleet Comabt that ramming was strictly a tactic of last resort and even then rarely useful, but he nervously wondered if Darkevilme knew or indeed cared.

“That's it, pick off their gunships, that'll leave them unsupported.” Commodore Samuel frowned. The enemy were taking horrible losses, but they hadn't broken. In fact they seemed to be regaining some measure of discipline after the initial chaos. One destroyer was almost out of the fight, but the other three were still in the game and began to concentrate fire on the INS Ford.



“Taking hull hits sir!” The ensign's announcement was somewhat redundant, as Captain Prefect could see the damage control displays well enough, not to mention feel the hits through the vibrations of the deck.

“Helm, 60 degrees port, maintain speed. Take us away from the destroyers to starboard, but don't expose the engines.” A brilliant flash lit the bridge as the two assault frigates took out the destroyer furthest from his position. A cheer came up from the bridge crew, but it was quickly snuffed out by thundering explosion that spalled fragments of ultradense plastic from the ceiling. A glance at the damage control display confirmed it; the primary shield grid was down.

“Ford to Terix, our shields are out. Advise that if we take another minute of this we'll be scrap.”

Commodore Samuel was determined not to lose another ship. “Gripper, Studibaker, I want you on top of bandit B, supressesion fire, shut them down ASAP!”

“Parasite, bandit D's armour is breached, follow our lead and go for a reactor hit.” He nodded to his gunnery officer.



Terix's heavy guns struck home, and a second enemy destroyer exploded into a shower of flaming debris.



The fleet switched fire to the third target, now joined by Commander Knight's gunships, which had finished sweeping the enemy fighters from space (or so they thought). The nerve of the enemy destroyer captain finally broke and the ship desperately tried to turn and run. It was far too late. A concussion missile spread from the INS Parasite sealed his fate.



Meanwhile Darkevilme's assault frigates had thundred through the wreckage of their first kill, which was still aflame with secondary explosions and bore down on the last target. At the last moment the two ships split apart, flanking the enemy destroyer on both sides and raking it with a hail of point-blank missile and turbolaser fire. Even the TIE Interceptors tried to join in the fun as the final enemy capital ship was despatched.



"Ahh, well done Crossroads, it looks like you have mastered basic helm commands after all."

Crossroads was still panting, almost retching from the excitement and terror of his first fleet combat. "Err... thank you... Captain. A pleasure... to assist."

The INS Ford had been saved; from a distance the damage looked bad, but the shots had hit mainly non-essential areas. The leaking coolant slowly slackened off as the crew isolated the damaged sections.



All that was left now was the enemy asteroid base, which had been out of range for the entire engagement, and a single strike fighter squadron. Filled with rookie conscripts, the fighters had taken one look at the wholesale slaughter Commander Knight was inflicting on their comrades and fled... right into Commander Temjin's TIE scout wing, which had been circling the edge of the battlefield. Most of the enemy fighters didn't even try to engage, but one panicked pilot unloaded his full payload of concussion missiles, which streaked out and blew apart the trailing ship in Temjin's formation.

"Damnit! That's... Fuck you, screwheads! Form up on me, we are taking these bastards down."

Despite their light armament, the TIE scouts made short work of the enemy fighters; Temjin personally took down four of their number. It felt good... but he was still mad as hell.

Back at the asteroid base, the operation was going more smoothly. Commodore Samuel transmitted the standard offer, unconditional surrender and acceptance into the Empire's armies, but it was ignored. The four Imperial ships poured fire into the base, and within minutes it was a shattered ruin.



Of course taking orbit was only half the battle. The Butcher was holed up in his command center, and its shields combined were sufficient to resist the efforts of a few heavy frigates. It would take a ground invasion to finish this fight. Which was just as well, because Major 'Brother' Gaius was itching to try out the Empire's new Mauler tanks in a real combat.



Intelligence had been right on one point; there were indeed numerous partisans ready to support the Imperial cause. Unfortunately they had not waited for the Imperial troops to arrive, and had started their revolt the instant they saw the asteroid fortress explode in the sky above. Perhaps they thought the Butcher had died with it, and their enemies were leaderless.



Regrettably this was incorrect. The partisans served mainly to tie up the enemy's scouting infantry long enough for the Empire's dropships to complete their work. A useful service, but perhaps not what they'd intended to give their lives for.

Major Gaius ordered his tanks to advance, but found himself stalled painfully behind his infantry cover. The Maulers were twice as fast as the clumsy walkers and he found himself fuming with impatience. Tempting as it was to run down the crunchies, he maneuvered his vehicles around them and surged ahead towards the enemy. Initial resistance consisted of some kind of converted pleasure vehicles, which soon fell under the Mauler's hail of blaster fire.



However the next wave to arrive were military scout vehicles, which proved to be much more formidable opponents.



It was quickly becoming apparent that the Maulers were tanks in name only. The presence of their blueprints in the 'Future Combat Systems' databanks had convinced the Imperial technicians that this 'network centric, high speed, transformative, light weight battlespace dominance platform' was the very last word in the old Empire's ground doctrine. If so, it explained why the Empire had apparently been losing to a ragtag bunch of monarchists, libertarians and terrorists. The Mauler's speed was useless in the tight jungle clearings, and their defence against enemy fire seemed to be to cheerfully explode at the first sight of it.

“Fall back! Now, move it! We need cover...” 'or meat shields' Major Gaius thought.

“Captain Scottish, we need infantry support, on the double.”



Captain “Ninja” Scottish sighed. He would taken satisfaction in seeing those armored asses come crying for some ground pounders to bail them out, were it not for the steep casualties he knew would result.

“Relief request acknowledged, Major. Form up! Advance by sections!”

With the tanks coweing behind an ablative layer of moving meat, they were able to clear the remaining enemy forces. However by the time the joint unit reached the main base defences they were rapidly running out of warm bodies. Fortunately the INS Terix had managed to weaken the theatre shields enough that other options were available.



Another problem solved in the approved Imperial manner; application of overwhelming firepower.

“Hell yeah!” shouted Major Gaius, “Advance! We're in their main base, I want this entire place razed!” He could see a lone figure ahead, an armoured figure... the elation was quickly draining out of him.



“What took you so long?” Stark strode casually away from the burning wreckage of the main vehicle workshops. “That last bunker will be tough, it's got a ring of mixed turrets and independent shielding.”

Major Gaius glared at him. Behind him, Captain Scottish snickered. There was no choice, the Major was forced to fall back on the one ground vehicle they had which possessed some semblance of armour.



After the battle some questioned whether it was strictly necessary for the AT-STs to fight to the death, rather than withdrawing individually as they became damaged. Major Gaius maintained though that the psychological factor of apparent fearlessness was essential to the Empire's victory, and he was in such a foul mood that none of the command staff felt like challenging him.



Imperial losses : no capship losses and only minor fighter attrition. However, we lost nearly half of the Mauler 'tanks' and all of the AT-STs assigned to this task force. We cannot currently manufacture replacement walkers. Many stormtroopers were sacrificed to save the rest of the Maulers, but HPCA seems to be cloning those wholesale now, so this is less of a concern.

Warlord losses : four light destroyers, five gunships, one asteroid base, many fighters, assorted ragtag armour and infantry units, one fortress and command bunker.

The so-called 'Butcher of Fresia' was caught by Stark as he tried to leave his burning command, and given a swift (and according to rumors among the enlisted men, highly amusing) field execution. The fall of Fresia also delivered the Felucia system into our hands, as it had been recently conquered by the warlord. The residual forces there surrendered and Imperial staff are sorting them for usable units and personnel. The two systems have been renamed 'Enigma' and 'Tokash', in commemoration of the Fallen Heroes of ASVS;



P.S. Who wants to drive an AT-AT? There's an upgraded prototype ready for field trials...

[phongn]

AT-AT ple----* HAB agents shoot me *

[Master of Cards]

Could I take commander of the Maulers? It seems they're high promation assignments (if everyone dies but me I'm the leader right?)

[The Vortex Empire]

Once the Acclamators are phased out, could I be transferred to perhaps a Victory?

[Vehrec]

I'm here to offically reserve the ship name 'Black Prince.' You should know what it will be attached to when the time comes.

[Samuel]

At least Samuel hoped it was blood.

(laughs)

Of course I meant to write 'hoped it was paint', but I subconsciously switched it and didn't catch it in the review. And of course now it's too late to edit, so you're stuck with being characterised as a closet psychopath.

No, no, no- if it was blood, it would have to be applied for each battle, which means that our enemies are either newbies or don't value efficiency as much as terror. Which makes them easier to kill...

[Scottish Ninja]

My job as a recruiter seems like it would be a tough one.

"So, if I become a stormtrooper, I get to destroy pirates and rebels and drive the Empire's screaming enemies in terror before me?"

"...Actually, stormtroopers are usually assigned to serve as ablative armor for the heavy vehicles. Don't worry, you'll be so pumped up on drugs and propaganda that you won't care."

"But I do get drugs then?"

"Oh yeah. That's the only way we get you grunts to charge repeaters time and time again."

"Well that's all right then, where do I sign?"

[Force Lord]

I haven't decided to go on a Strike Cruiser or a Carrack. Hell, if you can, put me in a Victory!
My ship would be named the Loyalist.

[Force Lord]

Apologies for the doble post, but what fate do you have planned for me?

If I die, I would rather go down fighting.