Star Wars does not belong to me. The background story and the characters come from the (brilliant) imagination of Georges Lucas.
What will follow should be consider as the scum on the top of the wave. Just a few scum…
Imperial destroyer class II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", Port turret S7-31 "Bunker Hill".
Chaos…
This is what the gunner Vierbein lived since the departure of the last stellar destroyer of the Empire, the ESV262 unofficially christened "Destiny Blade", which had left the space shipyard of Kuat just before the invasion of the planet and the construction sites by the Republican forces.
Due to lack of time, whole units were not pressurized, and only two out of three propellants were operational. An army of technicians was working tirelessly to start the third reactor but according to the rumours that the supplying chores brought back that not go well.
The turret pit, which was the world of the gunner and the rest of the space gunner's team to which he belonged, consisted of a cylinder cut in several stages. The upper stage, the turret in contact with the space vacuum included the direct sighting systems and the four turbolaser tubes. In normal service, no one had to enter, the shooting being directed by the central points and automatically reloaded.
In case of any problem with operation or guidance an access was provided by an airlock comprising two light pressurized suits, one for the pointer and one for the gunner. These combinations were to be put on in a strictly limited time, and rehearsals and trainings followed one another without rest.
Immediately under the turret was the technical section, which included all the servitudes of the turbolaser. This section was the reserved domain of the fire engineer who reigned supreme over this pile of boxes and cables of all types and sections. This section was pressurized and powerfully ventilated to remove the calories from the system.
Finally, still below, was the crew quarter, which included the common room, which served as a dining hall, a transmission centre and a break room, which was taken in pairs. A narrow corridor led from this room, which led to the fourth thoroughfare on the port side of the destroyer. Due to the incompleteness of the vessel, this corridor was also not pressurized, and the supply chore that took place every five space days (the term being conventional, the notion of day, terrestrial or not, having no meaning in space) had to be done in combination.
In fact, the entire vessel was only a conglomerate of small autonomous cells, still reinforced by incomplete pressurization.
Vierbein was at this point of his thought when the handle of the access door began to turn. Sergeant Hanson entered the room, closed the airlock, took off his helmet, put it in the slot, and placed on the central table the twenty standard rations for the new period of autonomy, all without saying any word.
"What is the news?" asked Josse, the pointer.
"Nothing official yet, but it's crowded with "black faces" in the central areas" replied Hanson with a neutral voice.
Everyone knew what he meant. The "black faces", the nickname of the Death Trooper, were the elite force of the Empire, which maintained discipline with an iron hand in what was left of the imperial army. To know them in large numbers in the ship meant only one thing: to went deeply into the heart of the troubles.
"But still? Did you have to learn something in the ordinary?" added Virbein.
"There will be a general communication from Louchke before the end of the period," said Hanson, who took the ration bag from the table and put it in the refrigerated compartment.
It meant: end of communication, give me peace.
"Anyway, "The Cobra" will have no choice: we must have half of the fleet Reps running after us" said Haberg, the ordnances engineer. "He'll have to tell us when we have to preheat our guns."
Haberg thought only in professional terms. His heart and his brain had to be in his cupboards among plugs and breakers, thought Virbein.
"The Cobra" was the nickname of Admiral Louchke, in relation to his cold and impassive appearance. Despite this unglamorous name, he was highly respected by the troupe and had repeatedly proved his worth during the retreat that followed the destruction of the Death Star.
The four men did not really know each other yet.
The crews had been trained in a hurry just before departure, in total violation of fleet regulations, which always required extensive ground preparation before going on a mission in space.
Of the four, Josse was the most experienced. He had already served at Yavin and Endor, where he was on Devastator. Recovered from the Thunderflare after the destruction of this vessel, he had retreated from the rest of the squadron to Kuat, where he was finally assigned to the Destiny Blade. Having participated in two lost battles had given him great respect and a great thirst for revenge against the Republican forces.
Next came Hanson and Haberg, who had also served at Endor on the Stalker, although not at the same location, and then Vierbein, who was on the Tyrant at Hoth, where he had been wounded by the shooting of the famous Ionic Cannon of the Rebels. After a long convalescence, he was assigned to a Pursuit-class light cruiser, on which he had participated in some secondary skirmishes.
The departure took place six days ago, just before the seizure of the dock by the Republican expeditionary forces, the LRSS, the famous "Long Range Space Squad". These had stormed the garrison of the planet, which had withstood enough time to allow the ship to leave its holds and set out for free space. The LRSS, too weakly armed to directly confront a stellar destroyer, had to resign itself to letting it go, but it certainly alerted the rest of the fleet, which was currently in formation and calculating its intercept course to emerge from hyperspace at any moment.
By leaving the shipyard, the ship had won in addition to its standard TIE, three carriers and a squadron of SturmRam, these TIE /sa armoured with heavy armament allowing them to face directly the republicans frigates.
Due to the non-pressurization of whole slices of the ship, the crews had to sleep in or around their vessels, which did not facilitate cohabitation with the crew of the destroyer. Overpopulation annoyed everyone, feeling reinforced by the acrobatic conditions of departure from the yard.
From his post, that's all the gunner knew so far.
Imperial destroyer class II, ESV262 "Destiny Blade", conference room.
Admiral Louchke was seated at the end of the report table, the protocol place used in the fleet of the Empire. In front of him were the technical staffs: navigation, propulsion, support and hold. On his right, the embarked squadron leaders, hunting, transport and assault. Unlike the usual staffing, there was no bombing group, which was replaced by the assault squadron. To his left, the places reserved for the dignitaries.
The lighting in the room was provided by portable field lights, the ship's internal wiring could not be completed before departure.
It was first the technical managers who spoke. The navigation had little to say, still ignoring the final destination of the ship. The admiral learned, however, that all equipment had been calibrated and that the main command bridge was fully operational, which was good news, given the circumstances.
Then came the turn of propulsion, for which the report was longer and the news much worse. Indeed, the central engine was still not working; the last attempt to start was an explosion and several deaths in the pump room. A new attempt was planned at the end of the period, but in the meantime the speed did not allow making the big jump to escape the enemy fleet.
After the brief intervention of the support and hold staff, Louchke spoke:
"I have to communicate to you the Imperial Council's orders. The mission up to us is to break the blockade of Dvar and to strengthen the garrison of "New Massada" ".
A leaden silence welcomed this statement. Everyone thought the same thing: Dvar was several light years from Kuat. How can you think you can do that with a ship that can't accelerate? In addition, the imperial base had been under the relentless blockade of the Republican fleet for months, which had succeeded in landing on the planet despite heavy losses. Two frigates were patrolling permanently around the system to which Dvar belonged and apart from a few small smuggler ships, nothing reached the garrison or what was left of it.
The admiral continued: "For this purpose, the presence on board carriers and two regiments of the Black Legion should allow us to fulfill this mission successfully."
"Some hope!" thought the hold manager very strongly.
"Nothing says that the two regiments are destined for the garrison. It would amaze me that the first advisor sacrificed his Praetorian guard into the furnace of "New Massada"".
He could not help staring at the Admiral.
Ulysses Louchke was a native of Commenor, son of a small imperial official. He had joined the imperial academy from which he had come out in an honest rank to command first on assault gunboat, and then he quickly rose to take command of a frigate at Yavin and then from a destroyer to Hoth.
For obscure reasons, he was arrested after this battle for high treason, degraded and interned at the Jagg Island Detention Center.
After the destruction of the Death Star, with the Empire dramatically lacking senior officers, he was released, reinstated to his former active rank, and provided protection for Imperial regiments at the time of retreat until Kuat. He had only learned of his appointment on the ESV262 (which was not yet called the "Destiny Blade") until a week before departure.
"Are you still who you were? What if you had been given this mission only to better lose you, and us with it?"
He turned his head slightly on the side of the dignitaries. There were four, all men.
The first was called Heini Crebs. He was an old man, tall enough, thin and a little hunched. He was not wearing a uniform, but the Jedi tunic, although the Jedi order no longer existed. He also wore a lightsaber on his belt, in complete contradiction with the regulations of the fleet which proscribed the permanent wearing of individual weapons on board ships. He owed this freedom to his status as special envoy of the Imperial Council to the admiral responsible for controlling the smooth running of the mission.
"What the hell did you do to save your skin?" The hold manager wondered. "A black hole must be light beside to your conscience... "
The next one was a Death Trooper colonel, which indicated that he belonged to the first circle of the Empire. His name was Ayad Isse and he commanded the two regiments of the Black Guard.
The third, the youngest, was Ryan Taman. He wore a captain's uniform of the Imperial Guard and commanded the reinforcement troops for Dvar. He had also led the delay fight against the LRSS in Kuat. Rising star of the imperial army, he dreamed of shining in this campaign and joining the black guard.
The last one was also wearing a Jedi outfit but no lightsaber. He was small, wrinkled, and clearly did not intend to interfere in the current conversation. Only his eyes were slowly moving through the audience. His job was the same as Heini Crebs's, but he had to follow Ryan Taman and the reinforcements on Dvar.
He had accepted without hesitation or murmurs this mission, which looked more like a suicide by order. His name was Wolfgang Bujac.
Heini Crebs spoke:
"Admiral, the Imperial Council has granted you his trust for this vital operation for the empire. You know that Dvar is the last point of advanced support of what remains of our space territory. I do not doubt for a moment your determination ..."
"I will be very curious to know how, Goddammit!" Ryan Taman abruptly interrupted him.
"I do not see how this tub can be useful to serve the Empire!"
He stared at Loukke straight in the eye.
"You are supposed to bring us to Dvar to support our assault and you are unable to accelerate!"
All the members of the assembly froze except the admiral. He looked at Taman and at the same time seemed to see behind him.
It was up to Isse to intervene:
"No, no, Ryan, not like that. You are invited on the Admiral's ship, you must be polite. He has authorized you to go aboard you and your men, and there, you see, he will explain to you how he intends to go to get you to work."
He had spoken in a soft voice, like when one want to calm down a capricious child.
Louchke then took the floor again:
"The situation is as follows: we do not currently have the capacity to switch to hypervelocity. If the new attempt fails, the imperial troops will have to leave the ship without delay to make the trip by their own means to Dvar."
He turned to his right and spoke to the crews on board:
"Reunite yourself and establish a plan of navigation and attack of the Republican blockade fleet. You have ten hours to come back and present what you have found."
Taman spoke again. He no longer looked at the admiral but at the squadron leaders.
"Can you imagine attacking Republican frigates without a destroyer?"
"Yes, indeed!" answered a clear voice in front of him.
The officer who had just spoken thus was the commander of the assault squadron.
Her name was Jay Hawkers. She was a medium-sized woman, rather muscular, with a banal face and short cut hair. His uniform jacket of the Imperial fleet wore the insignia of major, pilot, and, less commonly, sniper.
"We have done it already, and we will do it again," she added.
Taman continued:
"I hope for you that they are not hot air!"
"We will destroy these vessels or we will all die there!" replied Jay.
Crebs looked at her. "That's exactly what we need", he thought.
The admiral concludes:
"The essential has been said. We will let the squadron leaders work and we will see what they have prepared to support the landing. Next command meeting in ten o'clock"
All the participants in the meeting got up and left the room without a word.