Chapter One
Captain Dayvidd Druffies stood on the command deck of the Imperial Class Star Destroyer Corinthian Rain - a beautiful bone white arrow in the midst of chaos - observing the swirling energies of hyperspace. Despite twenty standard years service in the Imperial Navy, it was a sight Druffies never got tired of seeing.
Druffies had joined the Navy in the final days of the Old Republic. He'd seen the holo vid news showing General Grievous' fleet destroy his home world Centril Prime, a world whose only value was that it had none. The elder Council who administrated the planet had refused to allow Grievous to hide the cowardly Separatist leadership on their planet and had foolishly tried to alert the nearest Clone base, located three sectors away. By the time the warning had gotten through, the Invisible Hand and its escorts had reduced Centril to a charred ball of death, oceans boiled away to nothing, it's beautiful rain forests burned to embers and every living creature on the planet dead. Druffies had been just about to graduate the Academy on Coruscant and had sworn revenge against the Rebels.
Corinthian Rain was currently en route to a dead system two sectors core-ward from Corillia. Imperial Intelligence had reported that Rebel Alliance Smugglers where meeting black market smugglers in this system in an illicit arms deal. Druffies' orders where to capture the Rebels and their smuggler allies and find out who their superiors were. Accompanying Rain was an Immobilizer Class Cruiser called Snare Trap and an elderly Victory Class Star Destroyer, Iron Butterfly. More than enough to overpower and subdue a few Rebel ships.
"Captain, we're almost at the reversion point. We decant in five minutes, sir," called Ardillies, a Corellian that was Druffies' second in command.
"Very good, Commander, have fighter control ready to deploy TIEs in a screening formation on reversion and send orders to Snare Trap to power up her Grav Well Generators as soon as we emerge. Iron Butterfly is to decant now and prepare to micro jump if this is an ambush, Thrawn style," ordered Druffies.
"Orders relayed sir," affirmed Ardillies.
Druffies hated this part of his job, the uncertainty of possible confrontation. He knew that at forty-five years of age he was lucky to be in command of an Imperial Star Destroyer while the majority of his surviving classmates from the old Academy where scattered amongst the various support ships in the massive Imperial Fleet. Druffies had been fortunate enough to serve on the bridge crew of Thrawn and, while not the genius Thrawn was, Druffies committed enough of his tricks to his playbook to have pulled off a few interesting victories in Fleet Wargames. Many however, resented Druffies' status as a student of Thrawn. Thrawn was an alien from outside the Empire, and suspicion and xenophobia was rife in the fleet, though only among the rank and file. Officers were supposed to know better than to cloud judgement with prejudice. Thrawn had played at Imperial politics and lost; a loss felt by anyone associated with him.
With a jolt, Corinthian Rain emerged from the maelstrom energies of hyperspace. Druffies felt a second jolt as Snare Trap engaged her Grav Well Generators, each one providing the pull of a full-sized star. Any Rebels who appeared in the system would be staying in place for the foreseeable future.
The Star Destroyer's Bridge was a flurry of activity. Starfighter coordinators scrambled fighter squadrons to screening position around the mighty ship. Analysts scanned sensor reports for anomalies in the area and specialists of the various operation on the great ship made sure every thing was one-hundred percent ready - Druffies ran a tight ship.
"The trap is set sir," reported Deispard, Corinthian Rain's operations/communications officer.
Druffies acknowledged the man and felt a pride swell in his chest. Everything was going like clockwork.
"Sir, we have several contacts appearing out of hyperspace," cried out the sensors officer, a capable though painfully young Ensign. "We count eight ships. Sensor profiles suggest nothing larger than a Corvette. All smuggler type ships."
"Your orders, Captain?" enquired Ardillies.
"By the book, Commander. Send them a transmission asking them to prepare for inspection. If they refuse, target their engines with an Ion Cannon battery."
"Unidentified ships, this is the Imperial Star Destroyer Corinthian Rain, prepare to be Sensor Focused and boarded for inspection," commanded the Comms officer into the pickup of his headset. There was an almost immediate reply.
"Sir, they wish to protest. The captain of these "independent businessmen" claim we are harassing them to protect the Merchant Navies control," reported Deispard.
"Starfighter Command," said Druffies, turning to the relevant part of the crew pit. "Send over a squadron of Interceptors for a fly by, and order the Wing Commander to herd them deeper into the Interdiction Field. If fired on, defend themselves but do not to provoke hostilities."
Druffies gazed at the eight ships in the display screen of his command console. One disarmed Corellian Corvette and several other ships comprised this smuggler fleet. The scan had shown that the ship's cargo comprised mostly of Heavy Turbo Lasers, targeting systems for said weapons and charged Tabana Gas to enhance the weapons, stolen from various Imperial Shipyards across the Empire. These "independent captains" could expect at least thirty years hard labour spice mining on Kessel, if they were lucky.
Druffies was curious, why did this new Rebel Alliance need heavy turbo lasers? All information suggested that the Rebels didn't have ships big or powerful enough to mount them on. Terrorist groups generally didn't like a stand up fight. Still, that was for Intelligence to investigate. Druffies' reverie was interrupted as two large ships dropped out of hyperspace, pulled by the Interdictor's still powered up Grav Wells.
"Sensors, what the hell are those things?" demanded Druffies.
"Hard to say, Sir, preliminary scans make them out as Mon Calamari Cruise Vessels, though the readings are strange," reported the sensor officer.
"I wonder what brings them to this dead end," Druffies mused, aloud. No sooner had the words left his mouth than several dozen lances of green energy poured from the strange looking vessel approaching them.
"Raise Shields!" he cried. "Gunners, fire at will! Sensors, find out what in the name of kriffing Kessel those ships are packing!"
The two Mon Cal. ships circled the damaged Destroyer; pinpoint Turbo Laser strikes further damaging systems throughout the ship. Consoles popped with weak sparks, electrical fires stopped before they started by computer controlled CO2 sprays in each terminal.
Snare Trap was in a far worse state. The ship was unable to raise shields while its Grav Well Generators were powered, and its formerly pristine white hull was blackened and charred; fires raged from stem to stern.
"Call Iron Butterfly, sent them our co-ordinates and order it to jump immediately," commanded Druffies; very aware both his ship and his command were in severe danger.
Like an avenging angel of death, Iron Butterfly swooped in from its hyperspace exit. The Interdictor Cruiser had pulled it prematurely from hyperspace, as Druffies had planned, in a trick he learned from Thrawn before his banishment.
The combined firepower of Iron Butterfly and Corinthian Rain stopped the Mon Cal. attack in its tracks and they were forced to go on the defensive. The Imperials, too busy fighting for their lives, didn't notice the smuggler's ships as they surged out of the Grav Well Shadow and escaped to the safety of Hyperspace.
Snare Trap was not so lucky. Her generators under severe stress, and her bridge destroyed, the Interdictor exploded under a huge barrage of turbo laser fire from both alien ships.
The Interdictor was still a rapidly expanding ball of flame when both Mon Cal. Cruisers followed their smuggler comrades into the untraceable depths of hyperspace.
To be continued…