"What one wishes for, one may get."
Dolan Ace, a captain within the imperial navy, and one of… no renown, he is and shall remain, un-recorded in the text of history. He's one of many commanders nameless, and of the nameless to be decimated by the rebellion, a group of misfits, and pirates, who are sorely under armed and yet, they proceed to capture systems, and make allies… this is the story of how Dolan Ace, failed to enter the history books.
The Patrol known only as A-3-22, moved silently across the coordinates of 2-83.9 on a straight line out in space. This line ran through some of the less defended systems, in the back channels of the empire. These planets, and systems were not on the frontline, in fact they were no where NEAR the frontline. They were most likely the farthest anyone could be from the frontline and not be out in the unknown regions. This Patrol was made up off older vessels, lead by one of the few remaining Venator-class Star Destroyers. Along side ran two even older, but sturdy, Dreadnaught class vessels. Accompanied by four Nebulon-B class frigates, and a set of Nebulon B2s, and of course, 35 squadrons of Tie Fighters, all to act as the anti-fighter supports. The commander of such a small, pathetic Patrol? Dolan Ace, one who was promoted to captain hood, without any form of real command experience behind him.
Dolan himself stood on the command deck of his ship, The Idealist, the Venator-class. He stood looking out into the darkness of space letting thoughts of "grand battles" playing out in his head, and how he would lead the imperial navy to every victory and engagement. He was a young commander, 28, and he was completely unaware of true command, he knew very little of tactics, and yet here he stood, commanding his vessel. It made him overconfident. His XO stood next to him, a bit behind him, it did matter to him, the man was sounding off the status of all the vessels, and what the sensors had been recording for the past week, which had been the same for the past month. "…and our favorite part of the weeks log, our sensors, and communications, detected nothing out of the ordinary, nor did we pick any distress signals, alerting us to Rebel Activity." Dolan stood silent a few more seconds, then responded, "So, the same as we've had for the past month… nothing absolutely nothing. I think we're all getting shaky, waiting for the rebellion to show its self." Only, below him in the a small drop below, where all the main stations for the various controls of the ship, one of the crew man would hear, and under his breath would say, "Pffh, more like we're out in the back alley trenches, where no one is, only us and the minoks on our hull…"
The XO, put the Datapad he'd read from to his side, and looked up at his Captain, "Sir, I highly doubt we'll see ANY, rebel activity, we're the farthest from any system were Rebel activity is, and we're patrolling through Imperial control space." Dolan, turned to his XO, who voiced the thoughts of his crew to their delusional captain. "Nonsense! Rebel activity is everywhere! Once we find it we'll crush it, with ease. The Rebels have nothing that can do any serious damage to us." He smiled turning away from his XO's face, and back out into space, gazing at the ships under his command. The XO, could only with-hold a sigh, to his knowledge, there really was no rebel Activity, and their commander was one of the many, many, stupid fish who bought into his Governments Propaganda. Of course, in this case, they'd be wrong.
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In the next system they'd visit, sat a small Rebellion Fleet, unlike battlegroup A-3-22, this fleet was meant to fight, it's lead vessel was that of one of the Mon Calamari's brand new MC-80 battlecrusiers, supported with six MC-30c Frigates, ten Correllian Corvettes, and a singular Quasar Fire-class Bulk cruiser, which in this case was modified to carry a vast array of fighters.
The Rebellion commander, Flinn Oscak, stood on the bridge of his ship, the planet below had always been a secret rebellion base, though it acted as if they were still under imperial control when imperial patrols came through. Flinn's group of vessels was currently re-supplying, after they made a series of hit and run attacks on Imperial Planets more towards the core. Flinn was exceptionally pleased, they'd been able to get away without being chased all the way back, and now they were safe, that is, until the planets leader sent a message up to Flinn's command vessel.
The command deck was busy, people were running about doing their business getting the ship prepped for its eventual departure from the planet. "Sir," one of Flinns officers called out from one of the stations behind him, "We're receiving a priority signal from the planets capitol, they're requesting to speak with you." Flinn, curious as to why such a call was being made, moved to the officers side, the video screen came alive with the gaunt face of another human, "Captain!" The man said in an exasperated tone, clearly in distress. "I thought you said you hadn't been followed!?" Flinn was taken aback, he looked to the officer for a second then looked back the screen, "Yes, we did, why? Your sensors are picking up something we aren't?" He asked, genuinely concerned. "Yes! An imperial task-force is on it's way here, and they're never here this early! You must have been followed! I ask that you deal with this problem in some way! The Empire will surely crush us if they find out we've been supplying the rebellion behind there backs! I can't let my people suffer for th-" Flinn made a cutting motion, and the man flinched, staring at him, Flinn waited for the man to continue. "Are you done?" the reply, "Yes, quite." Flinn nodded, "Well, then we'll deal with them, we'll make sure they won't learn of our little secret." The man on the other end of the line nodded then spoke "Also, I almost forgot to mention, they'll be here within the next hour", then he cut communications. Flinn, immediately jumped into action. "Alright, have all our forces regroup in a tight formation, get all our men bringing supplies up off that rock. Then we'll use the planet to mask ourselves, and come around from behind and hit those imperial scumbags from behind." Men nodded, and suddenly Klaxons sounded, and everyone began to rush to battle stations. "Drop a sensor probe; have it aligned so we know when this Imperial Taskforce enters the area. I want us to be ready to pounce!" Flinns final order, for the moment, given, he took a seat in his command chair and watched as things unfold.
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The Imperial Patrol A-3-22 exited Hyperspace on the predicted time it would take for the jump. Dolan was happy, the patrol was ahead of schedule, to his knowledge, any commander given this patrol assignment was slow, lax and inefficient. It took them three months to do, what he'd been accomplishing in a month. Of course, these slow, lax, and inefficient commanders also knew that this was a complete cake-walk of an assignment, and thusly used it as time to give crewmen a break. Though for Dolan, he saw it as an opportunity to rise to the ranks, and command an even better vessel, he dreamed of commanding an Imperator Class Star Destroyer. "Sir, we've arrived in the system, we're moving at full speed as per your orders to enter Orbit as swiftly as possible. We'll begin scanning the system once we've achieved orbit, and we'll engage in the standard communiqués, and then shove off." The XO finished off, Dolan only continued to smile, looking as stupid as a Nerf. "Excellent, I could not be more pleased then I am now. I love it when plans go smoothly."
Behind the planet, Flinns forces sat quietly awaiting the signal from the Sensor Probe. The wait seemed to go on forever, but everything seemed like that when Battle stations were active, and there was nothing going on. "Sir," piped up his communications officer, "The Sensor probe has picked up a small group of Imperial vessels… nine vessels in all." Flinn thought to himself, Lets see… we've got eighteen ships to their nine… plus we've got the fifty Squadrons of Fighters from the Free Spirit… plus our own thirty-six squadrons. This should be a cakewalk. Flinn looked up from staring at floor while he was in thought, "Order the probe to alert us when they achieve standard orbit, once they're there, I want all ships to maximum thrust, we're gonna come in from behind, and I want all guns ready to fire. Also, have all fighters Prep to launch as we do this, we'll send them ahead. I want our bombers to knock out as many drives as possible, priority goes to their capital ships. Fighters are to stick close to the bombers, and give them close support." He paused, for a moment considering what the larger ships would do. "Orders sent to Probe, relaying orders to all Squadrons." The Communications officer, then went silent. Flinn, then spoke again giving his orders. "Have the Free spirit advance with the fleet, but once we're about to enter combat with the Imperials, have her hang back, I want to give her boys a home to return. Have our corvettes focus fire on their fighters, make sure they keep them off our fighters. The Frigates will break off into pairs of two and Target the capital ships, I want their torpedoes to hammer their ships. We will take on their biggest ship." The orders were given, and now, he sat back, and waited for the imperials to achieve orbit.
Patrol A-2-33 took a nice twenty minute burn into the system, and took up an orderly formation, with the Nebulon Frigates making a Ring around the Idealist and the two Dreadnaughts in the center. Dolan watched from the back of bridge as the men under his command began to go about their tasks. Of course, this feeling only lasted for about fifteen minutes, when a shout suddenly came from his tactical officers, "Enemy contacts! A large amount of rebel starfighters have just appeared on sensors!" Dolan's face suddenly went white, "Battle stations! Launch all fighters in response! I want them to take the enemy head on, have our frigates give them fire support!" "Yes sir!" The Command deck was suddenly in chaos from this, as people rushed to get the orders out. Dolan ran to the pack and looked at the Tactical holo-display, showing a large cloud of Red moving in towards them. Zooming in, the cloud became smaller, and the icons denoting the squadrons becoming clearer, showing him the 86 incoming squadrons of fighters and bombers. "Turn all ships about! I want all ships firing into that formation of fighters!" He could feel his ship lurch to port moments after issuing the Order, and he could see the other ships following suit on display, he even spotted a few of his fighter squadrons appearing on the display. He turned to see his XO next to him. "Well… looks like not all is going according to plan…."
Flinn could only smile; the imperials were mostly frigates, and their heaviest ship was an old Venator class vessel, this wasn't the fleet that followed them, this had to be a patrol that decided they'd try to get the patrol over with as quickly as possible. "Well… I think we're gonna have a quick victory, as soon as we're in range, target that Venator, and let loose all guns, and have our Frigates target those Dreadnaughts. Leave those Nebulons to the Bombers." He sat back, and watched his opponent, wondering if he had any tricks up his sleeves.
The Rebels X-wings streaked into the thick of combat, targeting the Ties that made their way out to them, only to cut them down with ease. The Y-wings, who received the updated orders quickly swooped in and began to let loose all their torpedoes, Targeting the Nebulons, within the first minute of Combat, one Nebulon was already venting atmosphere, and on fire, and eventually, destroyed. Of course, it did not go down without a fight, it had let loose as many laser cannon blasts as it could, knocking out a few fighters, and taking some with it. All of this, only made Dolan completely scared, as he thought, "Open fire on those fighters! Take them out! Take them out!" He screamed, obviously scared half out of his mind, and still thinking he could win this obvious turkey shoot. The XO screamed back at him, "Captain Dolan! Get a hold of yourself! If I may suggest we should Retreat and report this to command! Then we can come back and take them out!" The Holo-Display showed another Nebulon-B1 disappear, Dolan turned to his XO, "No! We can win this! I'm sure of it! We can win this!" He turned looking at the tactical map. The XO only stood, a flabbergasted look on his face. That's when their ship began to shudder.
The much larger MC-80 began to unload all her batteries Ion Cannon and Turbolaser Batteries onto the Idealist. The Ion Cannons Draining her shields and the Turbolasers pounding into them. The Idealist returned fire, it's older Turbolasers doing hardly anything to the shields of Flinn's crusier. The Frigates unleashed vast vollies of proton torpedoes at the Dreadnaughts, backing them up with Turbolasers, the first wave striking the shields followed by the Turbolasers. They collapsed and the Dreadnaughts began to take heavy fire. The Imperial Nebulons were nearly destroyed, only two remained that could still fire, and even then they could do little to stop their destruction. The Idealist's Tie Fighters were completely wiped out, thanks in part to the corvettes constant laser barrage. Dolan, stared at his Holo-display, all was lost, and yet he had to keep fighting. "Keep firing! Keep firing!" He was staring so intently at the screen he didn't notice his XO holding a blaster to his head. "I'm sorry Captain, but I can't let you endanger us all any longer." The XO pulled the Trigger, and Dolan Ace, was no more.
Flinn watched as one of the Dreadnaughts exploded from a fourth wave of Torpedoes, then turned his attention to the Idealist, "Status on our Target." "Sir, her shields are down, and we're now hitting her hull" was the Tactical Officers reply, then the Communications officer spoke up, "Sir, we're receiving a transmission from the ship, It's terms of surrender." Flinn, quickly ordered all ships to stop firing, and listened to the message.
On the command Deck of the Idealist, Dolan Ace lay, somehow still alive, but not for long, his lasts thought before passing on to the next world were, "And I didn't even get to see my opponents face…" and with that, his eyes closed, and he was no more... except, just a corpse.