Chapter 20
Battle of Topaz
A flash of light was the only sign of arrival as the StealthX returned to real-space, its S-foils remaining on standby as it soared across the depths of the abyss at high speeds towards its destination. Jaden Korr stretched his muscles before flipping a few switches, bringing his ship back to manual. His astromech droid emitted a few beeps and clicks, signalling its agreement in returning control to him.
"Guess we're here." Jaden whispered, looking at the small orb which was the sun of the Topaz system, a small ball of molten orange in the darkness. Somewhere out there was the systems only habitable planet and he was here to find this world and assess its defences. He checked his ships systems, noticing that he was within maximum range of his StealthX's long ranged sensors.
"This should be close enough R10, do a scan."
The droid beeped in acknowledgement before setting to work, bringing the powerful sensors of the highly specialised snubfighter to bare upon an unsuspecting star system. The StealthX was the pinnacle of Alliance stealth technology. It may be noticeable to the Eldar sensors as Master Sabbath's confrontation painfully showed but it was more than adequate to keep him hidden from the eyes of the Imperials.
Information began to flood through his ships main computer, and looking upon it the Jedi began to get a description of the star system. Four planets circulated this middle aged sun, two too close to the blazing ball to be able to support life, another was well out of the way, a huge gas giant which he could spot from his position. It was the third planet in line which was in the perfect position and distance.
In orbit around that planet was their last missing ship, the Independence, and on the planet's surface was the crew. They had made it to this world on schedule, but still six hours was a very short window to mount a successful invasion, even if it was just to rescue their stranded crew and retake their lost warship.
He got the long range scans of the planet's orbit, watching as a mass of information flooded across his screen. Jaden took it all in as his little fighter darted ever closer towards his target. He needed to be close enough to gain visual confirmation of the planets orbital defences; otherwise the operation would not be able to begin.
It took an hour for his snubfighter to traverse the distance from its exit point to its maximum visual range, still a good three hundred thousand kilometres away from the planets orbit. Jaden looked upon the football sized sphere, seventy percent of its surface appeared to be made of water while the rest was the deep brown of mountains with the odd greenery of forests and valleys here and there.
His droid beeped an acknowledgement, signalling that the visuals had been taken and stored. Jaden brought them up on the screen, and cursed inwardly at what he saw. It appeared that they're information was a little off.
"Well this isn't good."
His astromech released a deep, worried moan, signalling its agreement.
"It's what we expected I suppose." Rosso said as her hologram flickered on the command deck. "And it's not as bad as our worst estimate."
Halos nodded his head, but his eyes had narrowed and teeth clenched at the sight. The Independence was definitely in orbit, anyone could make out the differences of one of their ships from Imperial craft. The Star Destroyer was docked in a large skeletal shaped bay, floating in high orbit like a piece of ripe fruit. He noticed the structure holding it in place looked like it had its own defences, including a handful of lance batteries and missile emplacements.
The size of the defensive force was equally worrying. Instead of a single Cruiser and four Frigates like the intelligence said the number was closer to two Cruisers and six Frigates. The capital-ships were definitely old Gothic-class Cruisers, old but strong vessels that packed a punch. The Frigates were a little more diverse, four of them were old Sword-class, same size as a Star Destroyer and quite sturdy. The other two were newer Tempest-class; ships designed more for short range fire fights than long range brawls.
"You're orders Admiral?"
Halos hesitated to answer his Captains question for a moment before sighing. "We can't afford to be indecisive, time is short and we have a mission to complete. Split the fleet into two groups. Rosso will take six Star Destroyers and come in here."
He pointed to an area three thousand kilometres away from the planets position. "Make a show of yourselves and force the defenders to come to you, meanwhile I'll take the Guardian and three Star Destroyers here." He pointed to the planet's North Pole. "If they're sensors are what I think they are they will not be able to notice us jumping in here because of the planet's magnetic field. It should shield us from their sensors until we chose to attack. We will aim to take those Cruisers out of the fight; once they're gone the Frigates won't be able to do much."
"Sound plan," Sor'ai stated thoughtfully. "But will the magnetic fields of the poles be strong enough to shield us from their sensors?"
"It's an M-class planet, so it must be." Halos replied as his eyes scanned the planet once again. "Once the fleet is nullified we'll take out the defences around the Guardian and begin rescue operations on the surface. No heavy ground forces, just elite SpecForce and veteran AirGuard Troopers with Gunship and fighter support. According to scans their ground-to-space defences are light, only a handful of guns more suited to anti-fighter than anti-ship."
"There's also the small problem in how accurate the coordinates will have to be to do what you're asking sir." Captain Verge spoke up. "Sure Hyperspace travel can be accurate, but to do what you're asking for has only been done successfully a select few times in history, and most of the time it had been done with the loss of a ship or two. In order to do this right the calculations for the jumps need to be done to perfection with no room for error."
"Then we'll do it with no room for error, have all of our navigators do the coordinates, and only report ready when you are confident they've got it right. Do I have any volunteers to follow me into hell?"
Tills, Captain of the Nebula-class Star Destroyer Sabre of Duros stepped forward, taking a steady breath before speaking. "I volunteer myself and my ship, sir."
There was a moment of silence before the second Captain stepped forward. It was Captain Jin Shandor of the other Nebula-class Star Destroyer in the fleet, the Sword of Ithor. "Ah hell," the man scowled, keeping his cigarette clenched between his teeth as he scratched the back of his head. "My people would never forgive me if I backed out of this. I'm in."
More silence before the final volunteer stepped forward. It was Captain Klinti Sontar, commander of the Imperial Star Destroyer Repulse. There was no way to gauge her emotions from the cloth wrapped around her eyes, being a Miraluka. "I also volunteer myself and my crew for this mission."
Halos smiled as he nodded, "Thank you, all of you."
There was silence for a moment before Gabriel spoke, "It's a little risky Admiral."
"Wars are won and lost on risk, Master Sabbath." Joseph replied before turning back to the holographic forms of his Captains, "Any other questions?"
There were none.
"Then let's get started."
Alarm claxons were what roused Rear-Admiral Millard Quincy from his bunk, sitting stark upright and jumping out of bed, smoothing out the wrinkles of his uniform as he made his way through the officers corridor towards his ships main bridge. The smell of incense was heavy in the air from the priest's midday prayer, and conscious of the time the officer made the sign of the Aquila across his chest before entering the cavernous bridge.
"What is the situation!" he barked as he made his way to his command chair, nestled in the centre of the command decks circular steelwork, sitting down just as his second-in-command came up to him, saluting sharply before relaying the report.
"Long range auspex reports a flotilla of unidentified craft entering the system, current position two hundred thousand kilometres out and closing fast," the man reported sharply. "So far they have refused to answer hails or transfer the proper identification codes."
"Do we have visuals?"
"Coming up now sir,"
Quincy waited as the huge screen lowered on steel cables, coming to life in a mass of static before clearing to show the visual feed from one of the many outlaying intelligence satellites scattered across the system. There were at least six vessels advancing upon the planet, a kilometre and a half in length each with a visually pleasing wedge shaped appearance, reminding the Rear-Admiral of a Powersword.
It wasn't the numbers that got his attention though. It was the design of these six warships and there was no mistaking it. Those six warships were nearly identical to the vessel his ship had commandeered almost a month ago. The same vessel confined in dry dock while the Tech-Priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus surveyed and scanned her down to her atoms.
One of the vessels appeared to notice their spy-satellite for the last thing the Rear-Admiral saw from the feed was a lance of green light encompassing the screen, then nothing but static. "Now that makes their intentions quite clear, wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes sir,"
"By the Emperor this is truly an auspicious day," Quincy smiled lightly. "Not only have we captured one of their ships but now their fleet appear before us on a silver platter. Prepare battle-stations and launch long range bombers. We outnumber them eight to six, let them come to us."
"Aye sir,"
He let his first officer make the orders heard and watched as twenty long range Fury Interceptors disgorged from ventral hanger of the Cruiser Eternal Light, appearing as a small swarm of tiny lights to his eyes as they lined up and shot towards the advancing enemy vessels who were now just within two hundred thousand kilometres of his position.
Alarm claxons blared across the bridge of his capital-ship when the enemy taskforce was a hundred and seventy thousand kilometres from them, surprising the Rear-Admiral. His apprehension was realised when one of his main officers shouted from across the deck. "Enemy vessels have fired!"
"At such long range," Quincy frowned as he watched the beams of green light descend upon his flotilla, and considered the enemy commander foolish from firing from such long distances. The beams covered the void between the two forces in a matter of seconds and the voice of another of his officers made his blood chill.
"Brace for impact!"
There was an explosion, a small one which sent only a mild tremor through his cruisers superstructure, then another and another. He watched as the Eternal Light took a similar number of hits, as did the third cruiser in the formation, the Imperial Havoc. Quincy frowned as he looked over at his damage control officer. "Well?"
"Damage is minimal, the shields are holding sir."
One would expect no less from a ship of his Imperial Majesty, but that was not what worried him. It was the fact that these vessels have twice the range of his, even if there were only a handful of long range guns on these vessels the provocations for this were worrying.
"Contact Captain Chechen of the Eternal Light," Quincy ordered. "Tell him to take the Imperial Havoc and three Frigates to meet these xeno lovers head on."
"Aye sir."
A second barrage from the enemy ships was fired, only this time it was considerably more precise and concentrated on a single target compared to the volley before. This time the beams of light slammed into the void shields of the Frigate Seoul with enough power to break the shields like a bursting bubble. Not surprising considering the long range weapons of all six warships had been brought to bear upon her.
"The Seoul reports that her void shields have failed!"
"Keep her here then, send the Starside to replace her!"
Quincy watched as Chechens force split from his own, taking two thirds of his fleet with him to engage the enemy. He watched as they closed the distance, harassed by long range weapons fire the whole time. By the time they were within range of their long range weapons the Starside had reported that her shields had failed and she was venting atmosphere from several hits. The two other Frigates were doing better, but only just, thankfully the two Cruisers had escaped most of the bombardment and once they were within a hundred thousand kilometres they returned fire.
"Enemy forces are pulling back."
Quincy smirked, "Cowards, moment we get close to them they turn tail and run."
He noticed a bright flash of light, and the Rear-Admiral was aware of a great, light sucking shadow which fell upon his bridge. His eyes snapped up to as high as his screen would allow and visibly widened at what he saw. The massive hull of an unidentified starship blocked out the stars as it hung barely a few kilometres above them and even though he knew it was difficult to tell its size he knew that it was larger than his Cruiser, much larger.
"By the Emperor," he muttered in silent prayer before thousands of guns rained emerald death upon his Cruiser.
The void shields of the Salvation held for several long seconds before caving in under the pressure. Millard saw flame encompass the hull of his titanic vessel as beam after beam slammed into and burnt through the heavy armoured layers, destroying his heavy lance batteries before they could swivel around to aim. Then a single beam slammed into the bridge. The last thing the Rear-Admiral would see in this life was his sight being completely overtaken by incandescent emerald flame before all went black.
Admiral Joseph Halos couldn't contain his grin as he watched the Gothic Cruiser begin a slow out of control spin, armoured form smoking from dozens of punctures, fires breaking through to the void before being mercilessly put out by the lack of oxygen, and the command spire nothing more than a burnt out wreck of what it once had been. The command tower was the only similarity between the vessels of the Imperium and the Alliance, and it was also their weak point.
It had worked, their crazy, insane, one in a hundred chance of succeeding plan had actually worked. It had been a close call but it worked. The Guardian and her three escorts had successfully performed the jump to high orbit of the planets Pole, barely ten minutes after Rosso and her taskforce had entered the system and fired the first volley. They had made it just inside of the planet's magnetic field, hiding them from Imperial sensors.
The Imperials had done exactly what he expected them to do, split their forces to handle the threat. That made his pincer movement all the more satisfactory in its success and all the more effective in its completion. The enemy was now trapped between the hammer and the anvil, confused and bewildered, ready to be pummelled by his fleet's guns until they either surrendered or were destroyed.
There were a few things to do however.
"Alright, lets finish mopping up here. I want those Frigates taken down before anything else." He ordered sharply, receiving a mass of affirmatives in reply. "Once they're neutralised I want the Sabre of Duros and the Sword of Ithor to concentrate on the Independence, eliminate the defences on that dry dock and launch boarding parties. The Guardian will aide Rosso's taskforce in battling the main Imperial threat. Captain Sontar, I want your ship to provide orbital support for the ground forces, eliminate anything that could be used against us planet-side."
"Understood Admiral,"
"Mathews I owe you a case of Corellian brandy for this." He muttered with a hint of a smile. "Launch ground assault forces once the Frigates have been neutralised!"
Everything had been set in motion, but could they complete their mission within the remaining time of four hours fifty minutes?
There was only one way to find out.
Colonel Maxwell was a light sleeper, considering he was a veteran of several wars across the sector that little fact was not uncommon. One of his officers had joked that a pin drop could have awakened him. The Colonel still remembered the man's surprise fondly when he told him it was the truth.
He had accidentally killed off an attendant or two because they tried to rouse him while he was asleep. His outbursts were usually violent and included the knife he hid under his pillow. A pity considered his last attendant had been a good looking woman with chocolate hair and fiery green eyes who didn't quite look right with a combat knife stuck into her neck.
He didn't need an attendant to awaken him today. The tremors from what were obviously explosions did the job pretty well. He did not panic. He simply opened his eyes and rose from his bed, quickly dressing into his uniform, sheathing his ceremonial powersword and checking his bolt pistol to make sure the magazine was full before exiting his living quarters.
The walk to the central command of his penal colony was a short one, simply leaving his quarters, walking down the thirty meter long hallway and opening the blast-door which separated it from the main control centre. It was chaos the moment he entered. Operators and attendants were either running to their stations or sending messages to someone else.
This had to be serious. He hoped it was an attempt at a prison breakout. If it was the Alliance prisoners it would give him an excuse to execute a few more of them. It was unlikely though, sure he kept his promise to the Captain to not shoot anymore of his people but that didn't mean he had to feed them either.
"Report," he stated in a bored tone.
The security officer he stopped looked a little like he had just gotten out of bed himself, rushing in putting on his uniform. "We're under attack."
That was a surprise, "By whom, pray tell?"
The man raised his hand with trembling fingers. "Them."
He looked up in time to see a small swarm of black objects explode from the cloud cover, between thirty to forty vessels of an unknown design falling upon them like a swarm of angry hornets. This was not what he had expected. Maxwell had expected a mass prison breakout, not an invasion by an unknown force.
"Well this is a problem."
The mission was simple, enter the stronghold, neutralise all threats, silence gun emplacements, eliminate opposition, take important areas. Find the surviving crew of the Independence and evacuate them. Find any sign of their own technology and either take it back or destroy it, do not allow the Imperium to have even a blaster.
The attack was planned to be perfect and precise, forty LAAT Gunships managed to break the upper atmosphere of the planet known as Topaz V, all full to the brim with specialised AirGuard Troopers of the Galactic Alliance, men and women who were considered the elite of airborne attack.
Each member of this unit was equipped with similar armour to the Old Republic Jump Troopers, except their armour was coloured a dark navy with crimson trim instead of white with blue trim, besides that they were still equipped with jetpacks, as well as heavy blaster rifles and grenade launchers, with blaster pistol sidearms and an array of grenades and mines. In short they were perfect shock troopers.
Gabriel Sabbath sat in a Gunship right beside twenty nine such men, all fully garbed in their armour and equipment, amazed at how they carried all one hundred and fifty pounds of it without so much as blinking. He himself wore nothing more than his robes as a Jedi Master as well as his lightsaber and a blaster pistol assigned to him by the Guardians Chief Quartermaster.
He would be the first out followed by the men behind him, yet unlike them he did not carry a jetpack, opting instead for his mastery of the force to bring him down to ground level safely. They would follow him through this to the death, that's what their creed dictated as members of the elite Alliance AirGuard Corps.
He waited with an abundance of patience as the small armada entered the atmosphere, clearing it in a manner of seconds before making an attack run on the penal colonies main base of operations. He could already sense the defences in the form of flak guns and ground-to-air missile launchers being fired upon this main attack force.
The Gunship flanking his left side went up in a ball of flame, taking the two pilots and thirty soldiers along with it. The gunships continued their advance, junking and weaving to avoid the flak and firing off chaff to hinder the ground based anti-air missile fire. It appeared to be working but another five Gunships were blown out of the sky before they reached their target.
The target penal colony was based in the centre of a large valley made up almost entirely of rolling hills with the odd clump of trees scattered about. The valley had great mountains cordoning it off from all sides. The colony itself was a huge medieval castle, huge walls of solid stone rising up at least fifty meters high, even higher guard towers rose up as if to challenge the sky itself. Although an infamous looking fortress it would be considered rather small for a penal colony capable of holding tens of thousands of prisoners, but Gabriel knew better.
The actual colony was located underground in a mass of catacombs and passageways reaching down at least a hundred meters, a perfect underground prison with no chance of escape. That was what the deep core scans showed.
The castle was just a heavily defended entranceway, and it was heavily defended. Lascannon emplacements were positioned on the guard towers, flak cannons and surface-to-air missile launchers were scattered across the valley, light anti-air cannons were distributed along the walls and alongside pill boxes. Gabriel had no qualms in considering the whole valley to be mined as well, making a ground assault difficult and an escape nigh impossible.
The only consolation was that the majority of the defenders were Adeptus Arbites, the Imperials Military Police force, but that was a small consolation. Arbites may not have had the actual frontline experience of the Imperial Guard but they were well armed, well equipped and well trained for combat.
Gabriel was the first to jump from his gunship, seeing the mass of spires and battlements symbolising the prison below him. He allowed his fall to continue until he was within two hundred meters of the ground before performing a forward somersault, bringing himself into the perfect position before bringing his hands to the ground. He released a duo of force pushes, slowing his fall. When that refused to work he fired off another duo, then another, and another until his fall was slowed down enough for him to survive impact.
He hit the ground and rolled to his feet, lightsaber in hand and activated in time to cut a diagonal slash from left shoulder to right hip of an Arbites soldier, then using a force push to throw another two off the edge of the battlement. Free for the moment he looked up to see AirGuard Troopers falling to their fates like navy rain, activating their jetpacks in mid-fall and firing. Flak and tracer rounds still dotted the sky as the fortresses flak guns continued to fire upon both the gunships and their disgorging paratroopers.
A guard tower to his right, firing what looked like a heavy lascannon, went up in a ball of flame as a LAAT soured overhead, discharging a duo of rockets into the battlement before performing a lazy turn.
Gabriel took off at a sprint, aiming his sights on a flak cannon just twenty meters away from him. He ducked a swing from an Arbites powermace before stabbing his lightsaber blade into his armour, using the now dead body as a shield against his teammate behind him. A well timed force push sent the body slamming into his comrade, sending both of them off the battlement and to their death.
AirGuard troopers were now landing, finding cover and engaging clusters of black armoured Adeptus Arbites soldiers. An AirGuard hit the ground, slamming the butt of his blaster rifle into an Arbites face before diving for cover. Others were bolder, landing in the centre of enemy formations and sowing confusion.
Jumping high in the air with a force propelled leap Gabriel came down upon the crew of the flak cannon with precise speed and intent, cutting down the first gunner before he knew he was there, stabbing the second in the chest and finishing off the third by throwing his lightsaber in a spinning arc, removing his head from his shoulders before calling it back with the force. Gabriel rushed up to the long barrel of the gun, fished out a frag grenade, pulled the pin and tossed it in, a small explosion later mangled the barrel, making the cannon useless.
One flak cannon down
"The surface will fall," Maxwell muttered as he walked down the main corridor of the underground chamber towards his destination. The main passageway was five meters across and five high; cylindrical walls a dull gray, bright gloworbs adorning the ceiling and walls. His second in command kept stride with him with ease. "But we must hold out for as long as possible, place defensive positions on every corner and on every crossroad. Use whatever barriers which can be found. We must hold them until the Inquisition arrives."
The man nodded his head, "What about the remaining prisoners sir?"
"Kill them, send fire teams. These scum will not be reclaiming their spawn today, or any other day."
"At once Colonel,"
"Step to it then."
The man saluted sharply before going on his way, ready to relay the orders. Maxwell continued his march, watching as a unit of Arbites crammed sandbags into a barrier on a crossroad, setting up a mobile lascannon for use against the enemy forces which were undoubtedly coming.
He continued walking down the descending passage, opening the main blast-door at the end with a simple swipe of his high clearance keycard. Inside the new chamber was a mass of weapon cases, lasguns and pistols adorned the walls in lines, most of which were empty now that the defenders of the penal colony were arming themselves for war. Cases holding Powerswords, staves and maces were also in attendance, also mostly empty thanks to the sudden mobilisation.
Finally the Colonel reached his destination, a simple case of stainless steel, the length of a fully grown man with the Imperial double headed eagle beautifully engraved on the lid. He removed an ancient key, inserted it in the lock and turned it three hundred and sixty degrees anticlockwise. There was a snap as locking bars fell away and a hiss of steam as the case opened, revealing its contents.
The interior was covered with red silk, displaying prominently the weapons of his family, weapons which by ritual would never see the light of day until war was on the owner's doorstep. He hadn't opened this case since his transfer to this colony some twelve years before and it showed in the shining perfection of the weapons.
He effortlessly picked up the powersword, a beautiful creation designed after a katana, patented weapon of an ancient warrior culture of ancient Terra, the Samurai if he remembered. Encased in a beautiful black scabbard, the guard was a simple oval of liquid silver and the hilt was covered in well made black cloth. The symbol of his family was embroidered on the scabbard, a skull with two swords crossed behind it.
Clipping the ancient blade to his utility belt the Colonel then picked up an ancient bolt pistol, beautifully crafted and powerful, its entire form was made of liquid silver, the insignia for the Imperial double headed eagle crafted on the right side of the barrel while the sword crossed skull of his own family was crafted with equal artistry on the left. Its three magazines holding nine rounds of hallowed ammunition each, silver blessed by a priest, capable of killing warp daemons as well as mortals.
He slammed a new clip into the pistol and chambered a round before holstering it, taking the three spare clips and nestling them into his specially made flak jackets satchels. He was never a man who would lead from several miles away from the fighting. He would forever be a man who led his men from the front. Maxwell had done so against the Orks and he would do so now, against these xeno lovers and heretics.
The Colonels last act was the grab the long black trenchcoat within, folded and perfect. He unfolded the ancient article of clothing and draped it around his shoulders, revelling in the feeling of wearing his family's signature clothing for the first time in over a decade. He closed the case, hearing the bars slide back into place before spinning on his heel and stalking out of the armoury.
He would fight this battle, as the thirty ninth head of the Maxwell family and he would die on the field of battle with his head held high if that was what the Emperor willed it. That was his duty as a soldier of the Imperium of Man.
He stalked up the corridor with an undeniable purpose, a soldier walking towards battle. He continued his march, well aware that fully armed Arbites were falling into step behind him, fully dressed in black armour and carrying their lasguns, maces and other powerweapons attached to their belts. By the time he reached the entrance, closed off by a five inch thick blast door which was even now being cut through. A wall of sandbags had been erected and Maxwell watched as his men lined them, aiming long barrelled ceremonial rifles at the sparking door.
"You are Adeptus Arbites of the glorious Imperium of Man," he roared, drawing his powersword, looking reverently at the high gothic engraved on the flats of the blade. On the left it stated 'Death and Glory' and on the right it said 'For Emperor Eternal'. "Whatever comes from that door you will stand your ground!"
The men's roar of approval was muted by a sudden explosion, sending the reinforced blast door flying back and slamming into the sandbag wall ten meters behind, killing one man and tearing the limb of another.
Weapons fire followed. A hail of crimson blaster bolts and azure ion beams that left black scorch marks on the tan sandbags. A man was hit in the face, falling back and dropping his lasgun. Maxwell was the first to recover, growling at the navy carapace armoured soldiers before aiming his bolt pistol and pulling the trigger, dropping a man with a well aimed shot through the chest that left nothing but a gaping hole.
His men recovered quickly and returned fire upon this enemy, crimson bolts of blasters and lasguns flowed across the space, scorching sandbags and walls pitch black. Then the grenades came from the opening, some didn't make it to the wall, other hit against it and still others went over into his men's ranks.
In such an enclosed space grenades could do catastrophic damage. The walls were reinforced enough to resist the shockwaves, but his men weren't as sturdy. The mass of explosions killed half of his men and ripped open the defence. Maxwell had been blown clear, looking up with tunnelled vision and an intense ringing in his ears.
His men were already retreating, and forcing himself to his feet, using his sword for leverage the Colonel fired off a few rounds in the general direction of his foe before copying his men's action, watching as crimson bolts soared past him.
The Guardian continued firing at will upon the now surrounded Imperial flotilla, her hundreds of heavy guns pouring incandescent death upon the fairly large capital-ships of the Imperial navy. Already one of the Cruisers was aflame in several areas, void shielding failing long ago and armour being systematically chewed away.
The two Frigates of their rear guard were now nothing more than dead corpses of steel in space, smoking from fires which had been forced out. This had not come at a price as shown in the Sabre of Duros, her shielding failed and her armoured hull atomised down to its final layer in several places. Another strike would have compromised her integrity.
The Repulse had been successful in neutralising the gun emplacements on the dry dock containing her sister ship, yet her shielding had taken a battering from the exchange. It didn't matter much now, as a small swarm of gunships descended upon the hanger bays of the Independence with a vengeance.
Rosso's taskforce was having trouble, exchanging fire beyond the enemies range was all well and good but once they got within range that changed radically. The Dauntless had reported that she had taken several serious hits. Her decks open to space courtesy of the Imperial Havoc. The Vigilance was shielding her even now, having taken few hits since the start of the battle.
"We need to take those Cruisers out now!" Halos roared. "Forget the escorts, concentrate fire on their cruisers!"
His crew did as ordered, relaying commands to the gunners who switched from their original targets to the bigger Cruisers. Halos took the chance to watch the smaller battles taking place across the board. Their own starfighter squadrons seemed to be keeping the Imperial Furies at bay, if only just.
"Sir, the Dauntless!"
Halos was immediately alert again, watching as images appeared of the harried Star Destroyer, shielding gone and once white armoured hull in ruins. One of the shield generators on the command tower had been blown off. Black scars dotted her frame from successful missile hits as well as the odd lance blast which left gaping holes.
Captain Verge's voice echoed through the security foyer, even as the Admiral saw life pods being ejected. "Mayday, mayday, this is the Dauntless to Alliance command, looks like we're gone sir."
"Then evacuate the ship Captain, do it now!"
"Begging your pardon sir but I prefer to go down with my ship," Verge replied, and Halos knew the old man was grinning. He had probably ordered his crew to evacuate some time ago. "It was a hell of a ride sir. I hope the rest of you get home!"
A beam of lance fire slammed into the command tower then, and Halos knew the old Captain was dead as it exploded in a mass of flame and smoke. The corpse of the Dauntless began an out of control spin, halted when another beam impacted against its now naked hyperdrive core, the resulting explosion atomised the Dauntless, first casualty of the fleet.
It would not be the last.
The Admiral was certain of that.
He could still avenge her though.
"Blow those bastards out of the sky," Halos growled like a feral animal. "I want to see nothing less than their gutted corpses!"
"Admiral!"
Halos turned a murderous gaze upon the unlucky messenger, making the man flinch before he regained his nerve and relayed the information. "First reports are coming through from SpecForce infiltration teams."
"Put him through then," Halos replied, waiting as the static cleared in the foyer and the gruff voice of one of the squadron leaders came through.
"Is this the Admiral?"
"It is," Halos replied.
"We found a batch of the crew sir," the man said, tone grim.
"Are they alright," he asked, feeling somewhere in his being that it was a stupid question.
"No," the officer replied solemnly. "They're not."
Author's Note 1: Star Wars and Warhammer 40K are the property of Lucas Arts and Games Workshop respectively. I make no profit from posting this story.
Author's Note 2: I really shouldn't be updating this. I have an exam tomorrow at 2pm god damn it. But I feel like I have done a good piece of revision beforehand, and the time of the exam means I can read through my notes for a while if I get up early enough. Wish me luck guys, I believe I'll need it.
Author's Alert 3: I only guessed that those who guarded penal colonies would be Adeptus Arbites, military police and all, if I made a mistake I apologise, tell me if I did and I will try and make the changes to the chapter.
Author's Note 4: Thank you everyone who reviewed on the last chapter with their support and opinion, it means a lot. And to those who still come up with lame or overused excuses well it's a story, there is a plot which I am sticking too, so get over it.