Hard Contact Part Two
Darrus Jeht was a man of many quirks. He was proficient in many weapons, from the traditional Jedi lightsaber to the lightsaber-resistant songsteel blade. It wasn't strange to see him decked out with numerous weapons. A brown cloak covered the white plastoid armor attached to Darrus's body glove. His lightsaber, songsteel cutlass, and blaster were attached to his white gunslinger-styled utility belt, bouncing softly against it as he walked to the bridge's windows. A bandolier containing DC-15 cartridges was worn over his chest.
His pale furrowed face was a canyon of creased lines and black obsidian eyes reflected as he stared into the blackness of space. His eyes wandered over the multitude of lights, wondering if it was a solitary star burning its lifespan away or if other planets were orbiting it. Brushing away a strand of his long oily hair, Darrus felt a quick tap
on his shoulder.
A clone officer in a dark uniform and a matching kepi saluted him, "Sir, Jedi General Plo Koon is requesting your presence on the Triumphant. Your starfighter is being prepared in the hangar." Darrus had been expecting the summons for a while and he thanked the officer for the message. Heading to the elevator, it took him to the hangar bay, where his orange and white Eta-2 starfighter was being fueled. R6, his personal astromech, squeaked at him, urging him to hurry up. Vaulting over the cockpit, he landed on the seat with a 'thump' and stowed away his blaster rifle. Flicking various switches, the engines roared and the starfighter flew out of the hangar bay.
The Republic fleet had taken a defensive position since their abrupt arrival. Small gunships and corvettes acted as vanguard defenders while Accalmators and Venator-class Star Destroyers huddled together inside. The Maelstrom was responsible for overwatch as it was the largest vessel in the fleet. Following the holographic lights displayed on his HUD, Darrus landed inside the hangar bay without incident and exited the cockpit. Cloak billowing behind, he ran to the elevator, which took him to the bridge.
"Master, who is that?" Ahsoka nudged her mentor with an elbow jab. Skywalker turned to face the newcomer with suspicion, narrowing his eyes. To him, the Jedi looked like a stereotypical bounty hunter. Dressed in black, Anakin saw several weapons dangling from his gunslinger-styled utility belt. "I have no clue," he whispered back. Extending his arm toward the Jedi, Plo Koon welcomed him.
"Master Jeht, welcome aboard the Triumphant." Plo Koon said and the two Jedis clasped their wrists. Jeht gave a curt smile to the Kel Dor Jedi Master, "Thank you for inviting me, Master Plo Koon. I look forward to working alongside you." With the introductions over, the meeting began.
"Currently, we have no idea where we are. There are no known planets in this system. Currently, we are using a combined communication dragnet to search for any incoming signals. We're expecting some results within the hour." Plo Koon began and the Jedis murmured in agreement. Using a dragnet would help them find any communication channels in the area.
"What's the status of the fleet?" Kit Fisto asked. Bringing up a summary of the fleet composition, Ki-Adi-Mundi read it aloud. "The last hourly reports indicate every ship is at a ready-effective status. We should be able to handle anything in our way unless they have ion-based weaponry." Mundi's words reminded everyone about the Separatist fleet's whereabouts. Their sensors array were unable to scan the entire Separatists fleet, but the last scan showed the unique hyperspace signature of two Subjugator-class heavy cruisers.
"Speaking about that, has there been any chatter on the Separatist communication lines?" Obi-Wan asked. Admiral Coburn stepped forward to answer his question, "There have been no signs of them using any known communication channels. They likely created new ones to hide their tracks."
An alarm blurted out and the hologram dissipated into motes of light. Static and white noise filled the bridge as the comm officers attempted to unscramble it. the transmission slowly became less garbled and the crew was able to pick out some words.
"...-buck...Ga...tica Act...gaging cont..." Moving past the comm officers, Ahsoka slipped on a headset and tried to unscramble it. Twisting several knobs and pushing small metallic levers, the transmission was freed of the static and a thin scratchy panicked voice could be heard.
"Starbuck to Galactica Actual! Enemy contact! Enemy contact! Go to Condition One!" Plo Koon activated the holotable, which showed the transmission's point of origin. It was located a single jump away.
"General, should we jump?" Admiral Coburn asked. Raising his head, he took a moment to consult with his fellow Jedi. Every Jedi nodded, giving their consent to join the battle. "Admiral, prepare for hyperjump. Battle stations!" The drone of the hyperspace engine grew louder as it charged up. Reaching its zenith, the fleet jumped to the location as the stars contracted into streaks of starlight.
Every time she ventured out into space, there was the chance she would be killed. Lieutenant Kara "Starbuck" Thrace would be shot down by either a skilled enemy ace or a barrage of anti-ship flak. It was a risk she took granted whenever Galactica's best ace left the safety of the old, tarnished ship. Today, Starbuck felt very close to death.
It began as a routine scouting patrol. She had been flying around the perimeter in her Viper Mk. II when DRADIS detected something. A yellow diamond indicator blinked intermittently at the edge of her DRADIS. Peering into the dark, Starbuck saw nothing. No silhouette, no running lights to indicate its shape or size. While most of the time DRADIS worked as intended, she was piloting an old space fighter and they tended to have severe issues. Suspecting something was wrong, Kara flicked the reset switch. The DRADIS booted up again and detected the unknown object in the same place.
"Starbuck to Galactica Actual, DRADIS picked up something near you. I'm checking it out," she reported back. Commander Adama's baritone voice crackled through the cockpit's radio, "Copy that, Starbuck. Be careful out there, Galactica out." Pushing the throttle forward, the Viper lurched forward as it accelerated to the unknown bogey. Its indicator grew closer as Starbuck approached it. The distance shrunk quickly and there was still no sign of the mystery ship. Stopping her Viper, she cursed under her breath, hissing into the mic.
"Frak, where are you?" she said aloud. Her response came in the form of blinding twin orbs of light. Turning her Viper around, she flew away and banked left hard, jerking her joystick. Her eyes adjusted, Kara whistled at the sight in front of her. The ship resembled an elongated whale. A pair of long metallic wings were attached to the ship's metal hull. A painted skull was displayed on its right side and a string of block characters appeared next to it.
A guttural growl emanated from her radio and she tried to compensate for the static. The growls became louder and agitated, the shrieks more grating to the ear. Warnings blared in the cockpit as the Viper's sensors detected a buildup of energy. "No, come on!" she shouted and punched the console. Through luck or divine aid, the radio garbled voice changed into something more bearable.
"Unidentified vessel, state your purpose immediately or you will be fired upon!" the guttural voice demands. Stabbing the button, Starbuck responded hastily, "This is Lieutenant Kara Thrace of the Battlestar Galactica. We have Colonial refugees with us, do not fire! Who are you?" There was a poignant pause as the stranger considers her request.
"I am Admiral Braesk. We do not have any records of this 'Galactica' or 'Colonial'. Are you some sort of long-lost Orokin fleet?" the voice inquired. Kara blinked her eyes, confused at his request. She had never heard anything about 'Orokin'. The confusion was swept away with fear when Adama's voice crackled once more, "Galactica Actual to Starbuck, please respond. We have identified an unidentified bogey near you. What's going on?"
"Galactica Actual, I have initiated first contact protocol. They are asking about us," she reported back. Kara could see the old man's face blanch in fear, his eyes widening and a vicious snarl forming on the stony visage. "Ask them if they know anything about the thirteenth tribe or Earth's location. We will go into Condition Two and remain on standby. Galactica Actual out" he whispered to her. Steeling herself, she clicked the radio button.
"No, we are not an Orokin fleet. We are seeking refuge and need repairs. Do you know a place called Earth?" The response was immediate and the stranger's voice was contemptuous. "Earth... that place was bombarded by the living drones days ago. If there are survivors of that bothersome Tenno skoom alliance, they are very lucky. The damage was catastrophic, every building was leveled by the bombs. Under Rule Alpha Nine Zero Garrak, I invoke the right of forced acquisition. Surrender your ships to the Grineer Empire or die fighting!"
"Wait, wait a second. Where is Earth? What happened? How many people survived? Tell me!" she screamed at the voice. The commodore had disconnected and the single Grineer vessel began flashing its running lights. The darkness is lit up with several flashes of light as other Grineer vessels join Braesk.
Tilting her joystick to the right, she flew back to Galactica as fast as possible and screamed into the radio, "Starbuck to Galactica Actual! Enemy contact! Enemy contact! Go to Condition One!"
Inside Galactica's combat information center, panic ensued. The communication grid was overloaded by distress calls and terrified ship captains. At the long hexagonal table, Colonel Saul Tigh stared at the DRADIS screen above the table. Silently sending a prayer to the gods, he turned to face his closest friend and Galactica's commander, William Adama. Adama's stony face was scrunched up as he studied the console. A wall of enemy vessels steadily approached the Fleet's position and he lifted the receiver hooked near the table. It clicked and the voice of President Roslin spoke, "What's happening? Should we jump away?" Frowning at the screen, he made his grim assessment, "Madam President, I'm afraid the odds are against us. I'm looking at a large enemy fleet and it's possible they might overwhelm both Galactica and Pegasus."
"How is that possible? We have nukes, commander. You can annihilate this fleet easily." she stated. Adama grunted, "That's true, but that enemy fleet is growing every minute. I suspect they have a nearby base and they are calling for reinforcement." Tapping his shoulder, the attentive junior lieutenant Louis Hoshi handed him an incoming message and disappeared into the crowd of crew personnel. "Admiral Cain is activating her entire Viper force. Pegasus is standing by. I'm ordering the fleet to leave immediately. Until then, president." Adama severed the line and Galactica's communication officer switched it to the incoming call from Admiral Cain.
"Looks like everything is going wrong for us," she said. Adama winced, her accusation piercing him emotionally. She was blunt with her statements, making her an intimidating figure in the Fleet. "Admiral, you heard what they said. Earth was bombarded by these drones, but it exists. If the thirteenth tribe exists, then we can help them rebuild."
"Assuming we survive, commander. It's going to be hell for both of us." With the line severed, he placed the phone back into the receiver. Taking his wire-frame glasses off, he took a moment to rest. Saul placed his hand tentatively on Adama's shoulder, shaking him gently. "We survived once, we can survive again," Saul assured William.
Alarm klaxons rang in every hall and corridor as crew members ran to their assigned stations. In the hangar bay, engineers and flight deck personnel prepped the Vipers for battle. Main defense batteries rotated on their axis, their massive shells loaded into the cannons. Pushing the Viper into the launch tube, Lee Adama gave a thumbs-up to the chief mechanic, Galen Tyrol as the launch tube shutter closed behind him. Flicking several switches, he contacted the traffic control officer.
"Apollo, you are clear to launch. Mag-cat engaged. Good hunting" The lurch jerked Lee's head backward as his Viper was launched out of the tube. Orienting himself, he gasped at the sight in front of him. A few miles away from the Galactica was a creeping wall of dark-green ships. Smaller ships flanking the larger whale-like ships fire several missiles at the ship.
"Shoot them down, guys! Everyone else, form up and attack." Apollo commanded. The Vipers nearest to the incoming missiles dove into the fray and shot down as many as possible. Missiles they failed to intercept were finished off by the defense batteries. Viper squadrons formed up into wedge formations, ready to break through the enemy defenses. Lee checked in with each squad leader and looked over his shoulder. He could see the civilian ships turning around and spooling up their FTL drives. Then, his DRADIS started being strange. It did not short out or fry itself, but it kept pinging that something was about to drop out of FTL behind him.
His face turned sheet-white and his clammy hands shook as it dropped out of FTL. Dwarfing over the Galactica was a fleet of giant wedged-shaped vessels. A stripe of red coating was painted underneath its hull. Small rectangular ships hovered between it and the stunned Colonial fleet. Over the radio, a garbled voice was trying to communicate. Tapping several buttons, Lee furiously tried to get rid of the static. To his surprise, it spoke in a clear voice.
"This is the Galactic Republic vessel Triumphant responding to Galactica. Can you hear me?" Lee heard his father introduce himself, only to be interrupted by Cain. "This is Admiral Cain of the Colonial Battlestar Pegasus. State your intentions or you will be annihilated." The younger Adama swore inwardly, cursing her for potentially escalating the fight. The alien calmly responded to her threat, "Admiral Cain, you have my word that the other ships will be protected by our fleet. I suggest we focus our attention on the black wall ahead of us. If you would kindly transmit the IFF tags for your ship and fighters, we can avoid friendly fire."
Cain growled in exasperation, accepting the alien's offer. "Fine, but if you double-cross us, you're dead." His father's voice was cracked, but he could hear the fear in his words. "I apologize for the admiral's behalf, sir. We're in a tight bind, commander...?"
"You can call me Plo Koon, Commander Adama. When this is over, perhaps we could meet aboard my ship?" Adama was surprised by Plo Koon's invitation. It was crazy that they were being offered to meet this unknown figure, but his father accepted it cautiously. Lee saw various Republic fighters leave the ships' hangar. Some looked like a Y-shaped fighter, others had smaller wings pop out from the main wings. It was a strange sight to behold, but the young pilot didn't have time to reminisce. They had reinforcements and they could win this fight.
"Squad Seven, take down the dropships before they reach the civilians. Bombers, prep your bombs for your run. Everyone else, charge in!" A chorus of 'Ayes' and 'Yes, sir' filled Odd Ball's cockpit as he piloted his ARC-170 starfighter. The clone captain glanced at the exposed superstructure, its metal ribs damaged from missile impacts and flak shots. He could see small triangular fighters being launched out of hidden launch tubes. One of them waggled its wings at him, the pilot giving Odd Ball a wave. Odd Ball chuckled at him and waved at him, Returning his greeting, the other pilot sped past Odd Ball as he or she joined the fray. Already the missiles and laser shots were flying between the two sides and Odd Ball gritted his teeth. He quickly picked a nearby target, a cylinder-shaped starfighter. Lining up his shot, he wasn't surprised to see it move out of the way. It was always like this in a dogfight, an endless cat-and-mouse game. The enemy flier weaved past other ships, doing and making erratic movements to confuse Odd Ball. His shots would skirt past the enemy's side, barely scratching its armored hull. The cylinder spun before it faced Odd Ball and charged at it.
"So that's how they want to do it? Fine by me!" he shouted. Executing a tight barrel roll, the clone starfighter spun and fired its laser cannons at it. Everything seemed to slow down, the red laser bolts became sharper and clearer, the stars a bit brighter. He experienced this phenomenon many times in his career. There was no exact name for it, but people claimed that they were in "the moment". The moment where everything would be decided in that split second.
The two starfighters flew past each other, one of them was burning and the other wasn't. Odd Ball checked in with his gunner, "Sharps, did we get them?" The gunner replied, "You got them, sir. The starfighter just blew up." Past the cockpit, he saw the floating debris outside. The clone captain sighed, wiping sweat from his forehead. Turning the ARC-170 around, he checked the diagnostic reports from his astromech. There was slight damage to the armor, but nothing severe. "Alright, boys, how about another round?" Odd Ball said. The yells of his co-pilot and gunner answered him as he dove back into the fight.
On the Triumphant's bridge, Plo Koon watched the battle worriedly. They hadn't lost any ships yet, but it was taking too long. Two hours had passed since they first fought one another. The blockade was crumbling slowly, exposed pockets of space disrupted them, and forced the enemy admiral to reorganize his fleet. While the Grineer ship's energy shields were paltry, it was the thick armored hull that proved troublesome. Black craters of scorch marks from the proton bombs and tiny strings of bullets from Viper machine guns dotted its surface. Arquitens and small corvettes like the CR90 surround the now identified galleons. Relying on speed and agility, they do quick hit-and-runs on the Galleons, firing at their aft section and running away for another run. The Kel Dor was going to send the Accalmators into the fray when the sensor officer detected something on the edge of their radar.
"Sir, we detected something on the radar. We're bringing it to the main screen. Embedded on the metal floor, hologram emitters came to life and presented Plo Koon and the senior officers on the radar. A blinking dot was located at the edge of the radar. The image of an alien starship appeared next to the radar. A saucer-like top was connected to a neck, which was connected to a secondary body. Two glowing rectangular objects were connected to the secondary body.
"It looks like a scout ship," Coburn remarked. Stroking his chin thoughtfully, Plo Koon wondered if it would call for reinforcements. The scout ship stayed in its position, watching the battle. Then, the ship moved forward, propelled by some sort of engine. Dropping out of FTL were larger and similarly shaped ships. They followed the scout ship, lining up in formation and presumably scanning the ongoing battle.
The last ship lined up behind the temporary task force. Plo Kon could tell from its size and shape that it was the flagship, and flagships were very dangerous.
"Everyone is here, admiral. Should we proceed?" Musiker asked. Picard stared at the battle they were going to enter. He was confident they could change the tide in their favor. The wall was already crumbling and it needed one good hit. Reviewing the tactical data collected, he looked over each ship and pointed at the one behind the crumbling wall. "That one is ours. If we're following conventional tactics, that's the flagship."
"All right, let's get this party started!" Raffi shouted and pointed at the helmsman. The pilot pushed the joystick on his console forward and the Verity moved, propelled by its engines. Eager for the first hit, the Nova-class scout ship Maxwell flew around a Galleon's rear and opened fire with a standard torpedo barrage. The barrage was followed with precise phaser shots at the Galleon's engines, each shot resulting in gouts of flames and explosions as the engine died instantly. With no control, the Galleon spun about lazily and its crew desperately repair it. The Maxwell's shields flared as it took hits from other galleons, but it fled away to recharge its shield. Distracted by the fleeing scoutship, some galleons perished immediately from the salvo of photon torpedoes and phaser shits from the larger ship classes. Two Excelsiors, the Canterbury and Thoreau, combined their phaser shots at a single point in the Galleon's armor. The armor melted quickly and left a giant hole in the ship, venting the crew to the vacuum of space.
The Verity closed in on the enemy flagship, their weapons primed and ready. The dreadnaught shook slightly as its shields took the brunt of the enemy's missiles. A flash of light blinded the screen and officers quickly compensated for the diversionary tactic. The enemy flagship was still there, trapped by the tractor beam emitted from a decloaking Romulan warbird. Looking at his armrest console, a short encrypted message appeared in Picard's inbox.
"He's all yours, admiral," the message said. Smiling at the Romulan's newfound willingness to cooperate, Picard responded back quickly with a short thank you message. Closing the armrest console, he ordered the comm officer to hail the enemy flagship on all frequencies.
"To the captured enemy flagship, this is fleet admiral Jean-Luc Picard of the starship Verity. Surrender immediately and recall your fleet. If you are injured and require repairs, we are able to assist you."
The hacking cough in the background and a growl answered Picard, "You have been marked for death, Picard. I have already transmitted images of all the ships that attack me and my fleet. Mark my words, the Empire will seek vengeance until the day you die. Glory to the Empire!" Before the disgraced Braesk finish his sentence, Picard had an inkling of what was going to happen next and yelled at the helmsman, "Get us out of here! Full reverse!"
Orange electricity arced over the galleon's surface as it self-detonated in an orange ball of flames and debris. Similar acts of defiance occurred as the Grineer fleet self-destructed. Picard and the bridge crew somberly watched in silence, each one contemplated what the future would bring in. While they had found new allies to work with, they had no safe port for resupply and repairs.
A chime alerted Picard of an incoming audio-only message. Tracking its origin, the comm officer found that it came from one of the red diamond-shaped ships. "Thank you for your assistance, Admiral Picard. It would be my pleasure to meet you aboard my ship."
Shifting in his seat, Picard frowned at the voice. "It would my pleasure, commander..." The alien voice answered him, "It's Plo Koon, admiral. I'm transmitting my location to you. I look forward to meeting you."
Picard stood up quickly and brushed his pants. Nodding at Raffi, the duo quickly headed to the elevator. From the corner of her eyes, Raffi saw the two officers taking their places at the conn. The turbolift's doors slid shut and hummed as it moved down to the primary shuttle bay, where an away team was waiting for them. Four security guards, a xenobiology specialist, and a comm engineer stood at salute.
"At ease, people. I'm thankful that you're coming with us as part of my away team," The members grinned at him and he continued his short speech, "While it is the dream of every crew member to initiate first contact with an unknown species, we must be vigilant. As long as we treat them with respect, they too will treat us respectfully." His speech finished, he beckoned the away team and Raffi to follow him inside the shuttle.