The dark, rambunctious tides of Kamino were waving outside, and the raindrops were bletting on the planet surface. Dark clouds filled the skies and turned to storms. Lightning flashed, and thunder rumbled. On the tower, the woman stood upon the viewport, listening to whispers in the dark. Juno looked into the swells until the patterns of dancing waves became a still current of trims swirling into her eyes.
The chamber was peaceful, quiet and serene. The ever shimmering white lights showered from rising to setting, and no sound was made from in. But she well knew all the peace was a lie.
"You will never get out of here again", Galen had promised, "You will stay here". Sometimes there were rows of stormtroopers marching. There were occasional landings of transports or Star Destroyers, and TIE fighters patrolled around the tower day and night. None reached her, though.
The tower was a veritable prison, and she was a prisoner. When she realised it, a sort of wild feeling came over her. She rushed up and down the stairs, trying every door and peering out of every viewport she could find. The fast, heavy shimmering white door never had a chink. After a while, the conviction of her helplessness overpowered all other feelings.
Maybe it was for the best. After the bone-grinding cold beyond the clouds, the tower felt warm. When the chill and the phantom crept through the walls, it will eventually be driven off. Down here was no wind, no sands, no ice, no enemies reaching out to hurt her, but only dreams and shimmering white lights were here. And her handmaiden was what all she cared, and what she could.
She was not used to having a handmaiden. She was no monarch or noble. She wondered what her need was in the vacancy of the tower.
The handmaiden did not even have a name. When she asked her name, she did not answer. "I wore many names, my lady", she just said, "Even when someone called me as my name, it wasn't mine". It was the only true thing someone ever said to her.
"Where are you from"? Juno once asked, and her answer was vague, only saying she came from the Rims.
"What did you do before this"? Juno finally asked the handmaiden, wandering about. The thumping waves outran the seawalls, the dark tides spraying white particles on the decks.
"I once served a monarch, my lady". Juno did not doubt it.
"Why did you end up here"?
"The war. Like the others". The handmaiden's voice was hollow when she brought a chair for her to take a seat.
"The war"? Juno asked. "Did the Rebels killed them"? She dared not ask her if it was the Empire that killed them. She could not decide which was worst.
"That is no real war, my lady". Her handmaiden said. She made an odd sound that might have been a chuckle. "You haven't seen the Clone Wars, haven't you"?
"No", Juno admitted. "I was only a girl back then". She struggled in her chair. It was hard to be a lady of such an able handmaiden. "Do you know much of the wars? Did you command the planet militia"?
"No, my lady. I do not know much of war. I did not lead, I did not command. I have only seen the aftermath". She said after a deep pause. "Everyone I once knew now died".
"It is ... terrible". Juno muttered. "How did your former master ... or mistress pass away"?
Silence lingered. Juno knew she asked the wrong question when the face of the handmaiden darkened even more. "She died of betrayal". Her voice was so soft that Juno had to strive to hear.
"Would you breakfast here"? The handmaiden asked her, but she had already brought the plate there. It was nothing more than nutriment milk and protein bars, flat in taste, though in an entire set of glittering silverware.
Food and rest in bed helped restore her after the ordeals of her last journey with Galen, but she seemed sadder now in her reflection in the viewport, sullen, weary, and a haunted look about the eyes.
The maid left her alone, trotting back to her chambers and slamming the door behind her. In absolute stillness, she picked up the glass of nutriment milk, feeling the greasy, synthetic fluid running down her throat in a gulp. The repugnant scent of blood in her mouth was ever thick in her mouths.
The dark, rambunctious tides of Kamino were waving outside, and the raindrops were bletting on the planet surface. With a roar of thunder, she looked into the sky. She imagined the calmness, the stillness of the void of space beyond the dark clouds covering the entire planet. The rains never stopped smashing into the waves. Her thoughts did not reach the firey struggles and destructive conflicts, all the deaths and pains, leaving nothing but ashes and corpses.
The rumbling of thunder dampened her ears once again. She abruptly turned. This time the roar did not come from outside, from the volatile atmospheres of the planet. The corridors were still hollow and vacant, but it was now dark and dim, not the glistening white she hated so much.
In her eyes stood a phantom of a man striding in the opposite direction, a hooded cloak flapping behind him. He was as a grisly walking corpse, the fingers like white dead roots. With the shade and chill closing in, their eyes met briefly. The man had eyes as red as blood. He seemed as a spectre whilst still in mortal flesh, and the glance full of malice was chilling and condemning.
Purple-blue strokes of lightning screeched around her, a whirling storm of flashes cracking beside the walls. She shuddered at the terrible shrieking sounds tearing her ears as the odd blue was soon eclipsed by scarlet red, the air turning darker and biting cold.
As the sparkling flames crawled up her body, she convulsed, screaming before the mystic power. They stung cold like icy knives, from her flesh and veins to the core of her marrows. The white walls scorched blacked dripped from the walls as burnt scales, the ashes fluttering and tickling her skin, and whenever they touched her, she was forced to squirm in pain.
The transparasteel shattered to a thousand pieces when the chamber could not contain the culminating crushing energy. The burnt, darkening walls were belaboured by raindrops, fulgurating crimson, and the storm struck. The tides once ramming the walls now slammed Juno hard, and she felt her body totter in the winds before they felt limp on the clod, wet durasteel floor.
The dark claimed her. The coldness and pain seemed to wash away in the murky, warm tides of odd fog. She was sinking as well as floating, falling while rising, her trembling body spinning slowly in the void. The flesh felt like a feather, so light and so feeble it did not matter anymore.
"My lady? You should wake up, my lady". The known voice was calm and quiet, whispering in her ears. Juno pulled her eyelids up to see her spasmodically twitching palms. Her fingers were like scrannel, pale bare branches. The cold durasteel floor was cuddled in her arms. The glimmering light assailed her eyes, dazzling her blind when the grasp of her handmaiden rolled her to her back. Juno Eclipse could taste the blood in her mouth.
Shame wormed her as she felt the warm but firm flesh of the ageing handmaiden, a feeling she has grown so familiar with in the past few months. She was a soldier for half her life and certainly one of the best. Now she could hardly stand on her own, not after the strokes of bright crimson lightning she endured.
But the lasting pain was not the worst part. Flashbacks came and went like the glows of daunting thunders, the gravest nightmares striking her until she fell as if the dark phantom creature was torturing her again and again. It all was a blot in her new life she was to accept.
A squadron of TIE fighters flew out of the viewport, too close that the sharp sounds of the ion engines assailed her ears. Once, they would have been a march drumming her heart, but now her heart was throbbing at the sound, squeezing in regret.
Tears burst out of her eyes. The rain of tears ran down her cheek and bletted on the floor. She remembered the last time she was in the cockpit. She came across this planet, believing she could save Galen, that the Jedi and the Rebel Alliance could save him from the firm grasp of the Sith Emperor. Either could, but neither did.
She had the passion then, but now, all her past life seemed like a distant dream here, a mist too hard to reach. Juno blankly looked at the white, shimmering ceiling of the antiseptic chamber until the clinks of the medical droid shook the floor. The syringe of the droid pierced through the flimsy of her flesh. The frosty sensation in her veins seemed to soak her body wet.
The dark, rambunctious tides of Kamino were waving outside, and the raindrops were bletting on the planet surface. The headache pounding her head for days has waned. Leaning onto the chair, she let her handmaiden dry and comb her hair, in the dress her handmaiden made her wear, the cumbersome, leaden velvet she could hardly move in. The matching golden necklace she found, laden with gems, felt heavy on her neck, leaving stains on her fair skin.
She wore her first dress when she was in this tower. All the garments she knew since fourteen were her black military uniforms. All the ornaments she had were the insignia plaques, and it was the pungent smell of ozone and fuel and blood clung to her like perfume.
Now it was a perfume that clung to her like perfume her handmaiden made her wear. The too-sweet scent eclipsed the iron scent of blood in her lips. Feeling the cold, stiff golden chain on her hands, she wondered how the handmaiden managed to smuggle such ornament in the place most isolated in the Galaxy.
The ritual was to greet her beloved, or her master, or her warder, or whatever he was. But it was more of the handmaiden's satisfaction. It might have been her only fount of amusement in this tower. It might have been the only thing she kept from her old life. She insisted that such grace could please his lordship, though Juno highly doubted it. It maybe was the only thing that reminded her of her former life. Her former mistress maybe would have loved elaborate dresses and jewellery, unlike her. She was noble and dignified, a decent and refined lady, unlike a simple soldier as herself.
"Stop squirming, my lady. It might ruin your hair". The handmaiden scolded. "You must look your best to his lordship". She already looked her best. She had brushed out her long flaxen hair until it shone.
She looked at the handmaiden. The dress would have matched her far much. Her gown was white and humble, and the dark hair was cut short, while Juno's long hair was knotted to a high bun.
When the ritual came to an end, a dark creature suddenly stood on the doorways. Marking the golden eyes, the handmaiden fled without a word, bypassing the giant frame in a trot.
The eyes were on her, blazing gold flecked with red. Juno could not move nor stand, in all her dress and decorations weighing her down heavily. "Galen", The wrong name lay on her lips, and "Lord Starkiller", she corrected when crimson tides encroached his eyes even further. She bowed as she learnt, as her handmaiden taught her to, as gently as she could.
"You're back", She whispered, daring to meet his eyes, searching her face. He was as he was, with the lightsabers glimmering deadly on his belts and defiance upon his lips. His head with scars and stains and lacking hair. He has shaved them all after that day on this planet. And beneath his eyes were purple, hideous wounds of disgust and loath.
She unclasped his robes. There were no shirts or underwear beneath the dark, rough weaves, so Juno could look into his bare chest. His skin was pale and festered, pressed stains clear on them. It had become a familiarity to Juno within months. What concerned her was the dark, scorched bruised wounds, buried deep and laid on them. It ran deeper into his skin each time he visits. Starkiller just stood there as Juno heaved her body off the seat, dragging her legs to him. When her hands laid on his chest, it felt cold and mould.
"What happened"? She asked. She was answered by silence. "Where were you"? She asked again, and silence lingered.
Juno brought her hands to the small of his back, leaning further into him. His arms did not return the grasp, standing still and quiet and firm like a cold statue forged of frail rust. Abruptly a grope was on her wrist and rear, ghastly and lustful. The grasp was severe, leaving the same purple, hideous wounds on her flesh. Juno whimpered and squirmed in his arms in pain. He seemed like a net,
The lightsabers clinked and glimmered on the shimmering white floor of the chamber, the robes mantling them soon after. Juno felt the dress tighten around her body, then the soft velvet shredded open like pieces of flimsy, and rough grasps replaced them. She fell to the ground when the weight of his body was on hers. Hard hands ravaged down her neck, pressing them hard, making her choke for air. The hand once grabbed on the chain on her neck, then a brutal instinct ripped it off, making Juno jerk in pain. She looked at the chains breaking. Pieces of gold and jewels sparked oddly as worthless gravels on the ground.
"Don't you try to get out of here again", Starkiller promised in her ears, "You will stay here".
"I didn't", Juno moaned. Her voice seemed to squash under his large, heavy hands.
Peace was a lie, and there was only passion. Her body was thrown back as he pulled at her hair roughly. While gasping, she rose to meet his lips. The kiss left an eerie sense, and Juno murmured if he could feel the ever-lasting bloody flavour in her lips since then. When she broke it, she sprawled on the floor, deciding to be content as he crushed into her. The hard hands and grasps left plump pains on her flesh. She felt his member snake in and out of her withering flesh, vacant moans escaping her lips.
—✥—
Callused, warm hand shook her to consciousness. The only reminder of her encounter with Galen last day was the remains of the torn fabric of the attire the handmaiden made him wear. She did not try to cover her bared breasts.
"Good morning". Juno whispered with a hoarse voice, fiddling the gem sprayed on the floor.
"It is technically afternoon, my lady". The handmaiden replied. "I have heated the bath. Can you walk"? Juno strained her knees, but her muscles felt numb as they did not tighten under her gowns. She could do nothing but look at her handmaiden with her dimming eyes, her body still sprawled on the floor.
The maiden's hard tan hand was beneath her neck and the other on her waist. A small huff escaped her lips when she rose to her feet, heaving her mistress's body on her shoulders. Dizziness beset her senses when the floor suddenly drifted apart from her.
After she soaked all her senses in the sentiment of warm water and fragrant soap, the handmaiden seated her on the same chair as yesterday. The floor was still riddled with torn clothes, the golds and jewels still sparkling in the shimmering white light.
Her hair and body were towelled dry. She was put in the leaden velvet dress like the one she wore the last day. The heavy golden chain was once again on her neck, veiling the bruises made yesterday, pressing down her macerated veins down her skin.
"Isn't Galen gone"? Juno whispered to her handmaiden, glancing at her reflection on the mirrors, searching her outfits. The handmaiden was not in her standard gowns but in a simple maroon dress made of dark velvet. Her short hair was neatly pleated. Juno was sure it was the best attire and hairdo she could afford, though not sure why she was wearing those.
"His lordship has left, my lady". The handmaiden's voice was stiff and tense.
"Will he come back today"? She asked. Juno did not really know Galen nor Starkiller, but she decided she loved her, whatever he called himself. He was all she dreamt her beloved should be, tall and handsome and strong. She treasured every chance to spend time with him, few as they were. It was the only chance she could escape from the dullness of tranquillity for death. It was the only flash of minutes she felt worth breathing, though she feared him.
The thing that scared her about him was his eyes. The blazing golden eyes in burning rage. Far before, she thought she could turn them back to the warm, passionate brown they were. But now, she knew not to struggle. She learned to accept him as he was.
"I presume not, my lady", the handmaiden answered. The comb was shoved roughly into her hair, raking against her scalp rashly.
Her handmaiden brought her to the sitting room. She perched on the settee as usual, but her handmaiden did not. She hastily returned to her quarters, heaving out a piece of luggage. Through the clear open doors, she saw her room was made but vacant.
"Are you going anywhere"? Juno asked, dazed and startled. The fast, heavy shimmering white main gate never had a chink.
But today, the gates did slid open, gentle and soundless. The masks of stormtroopers lined up, which she hasn't seen for a year now, frighted her.
One of them came forward and got the luggage in his hands. While they made a row, the handmaiden brought her hand on hers, pulling her up to her feet.
Juno's heart swam. When she followed her in disconcert, the stormtroopers surrounded them in pace. All seemed too expected, and Juno wondered if it was all a dream.
The dark, rambunctious tides of Kamino were waving, and the raindrops were bletting on the surface. The lambda shuttle she was in were assailed by heavy raindrops. When they went through the clouds, sounds diminished until the sounds of gentle engines were left.
Leaving the layers of thick, dark clouds, the void of space stretched out endlessly, stars glistening as scattered jewels on the shimmering black ceiling. The overwhelming sense of freedom carried Juno away, and a small gasp escaped her lips, her lungs inhaling the turbid, artificial air.
She wondered if Starkiller abruptly changed his mind. Was she to be transferred to another prison, or was she to be finally freed? Was it associated with his threat the day before? She did not know.
The star destroyers in orbit were dissimilar to any of what she had seen. A single Victory destroyer and an Imperial Star Destroyer was what she could recognise, with some Lancer frigates escorting them. The rest was compact, barely above the size of a cruiser. Two jagged blunt edges swelled out of the main hull instead of the sharp, familiar dagger.
One of them grew huge in her sight, the grey armour engraved with creased durasteel covering the viewport. The ventral hangar shining bright came into her view, and the airlock opened to invite them in. The shuttle slowly ascended, and the grey walls of the hangar were in her sight. Then the black solar panels of the fighters, then the rows of officers, crewmen and stormtroopers, lined up to greet them.
She remembered she was one of the lines, greeting an Admiral, a Moff, or a local Monarch of a planet. She eyed where her place might be in the rows and how she would salute like all the others.
She wondered she still held her former ranks as a corporal and if all the officers mustered were still her superiors, but the concern was gone when a man stepped forward with a salute when she stumbled out of the shuttle. He was an easily recognisable man, tall in a frame with angular features. His flat nostrils seemed more of a snout than a nose, filthy with scars. It was not the most recognisable trait, though. The electronic patch replacing her scarred left eye was shimmering and glittering in the lights as his code cylinder. An thought of what was behind that flimsy of metal made her shiver.
"I am Admiral Terrinald Screed, commander of the Imperial Centre Home fleet, Lady Starkiller. I am assigned to escort you to the capital". He looked like a mud Nuna and spoke like one squeaking.
Before she could salute back or ask, the handmaiden made her bow like a lady. It was clumsy and awkward. She leered her eyes up to search the Admiral's face, breathing again to find contempt on the stern lips.
"Lady Starkiller"? She murmured back.
"You are the wife of Lord Starkiller, are you not"?
She wondered how Galen got the title of lordship but could never ask.
"Her ladyship is in adverse health conditions, sir". The handmaiden said. "May I have the permission to bring her to the medical wing"?
"No", the Admiral declined. "Her ladyship will be brought to the bridge to be kept under maximum security". He glared at her furiously and unworthy.
The handmaiden ignored his command. "Her ladyship feels uncomfortable in such a place. I see it far suitable for her to acquire personal quarters".
Admiral Screed leered her, biting bitterly, "Good servants do not question her master's decision".
"My mistress is Lady Starkiller, not you, Admiral. I will ask whatever benefits her ladyship".
"Military law is in effect on this ship. Whoever disobeys my order will be dealt with by summary execution. You are lucky to get a warning". He turned around, babbling, "We are in a warzone. The Imperial executive has ordered a withdrawal of all assets from the Rebel controlled wild space".
"Should we expect a battle"? Juno asked, and "Probably, milady", the Admiral answered briefly.
"This fleet is rather small for a one expecting a battle". Juno said. It was indeed. Though in battle positions, it was only a force worth a squadron, eight destroyers and a few auxiliary ships.
"You should consider it fortunate I brought this fleet to escort you, milady, despite all the fools adamant in pouncing on me". Admiral Screed bragged, and his voice was no less than insolence. If he expected her to praise his deeds, he has mistaken.
"Neither the Emperor Regent nor the Chancellor approved in bringing a proper fleet. Your safety was no concern to them". He appended, "I am sure Lord Starkiller would not handle affairs so cursorily".
"What do you mean by the Chancellor"? She said blankly. The words seemed to ram in his head. "Why is there an Emperor Regent"?
Admiral Screed looked at her in confusion as if she said the wrong thing. Scorning and unwell foil stirred on his face.
"Don't you know Vader"? He condescended when she admitted her ignorance. "That brat is no more than a usurper, giving little respect for the New Order nor the Tarkin Doctrine. He wants nothing more than to choke on his aspirations listening to the flattery of Ministers and bureaucrats".
That did not answer her query. Juno wished to ask more, but the handmaiden cut her thoughts short.
"Her ladyship is tired. She must be brought to rest", and she insulted, "Lord Starkiller would not be pleased if her ladyship does not get the hospitality she deserves".
Juno started to concern the life of her maid. Imperial officers will not relent in executions, even out of impulse. She hoped her name, or the name of her Starkiller could prevent it.
"I do not mind either", she muttered out. Her voice became hoarse for speaking so much after lack of use, and her legs were a slug. "I just want to rest. I'm tired".
"Indeed, milady", Screed said with elation, turning to the captain behind him. "Bring a repulsor chair and a medical droid to tend with the health of his ladyship".
She looked at her handmaiden, searching her face. It was as stern as always, but she thought she saw a sense of fear unseen in her eyes.
They followed the officer corps into the bridge, and the walk was shorter than she was accustomed to. The open views were void and stars, and the landscape was the grey hull of the destroyer.
"You may take a seat, milady", Screed barked, pointing the repulsor chair and the medical droid already in place, and she pouted in to rest in a whimper to rest her shuddering legs. She felt the weird sight of the officers leering her. She turned in shame, now wishing desperately to escape from them.
It was soon met. Before the medical droid, the handmaiden brought out a loaded syringe from her sleeves, sterilised it, then pushed it into her flesh. The frosty sensation delivered into her veins seemed to soak her body wet.
—✥—
The ships jerked out of hyperspace, the rebound striking her hard. The space was calm and dark, only distant asteroids floating still, the scattered bright stars greeting them. Across the void, engines boomed, deep throaty moans like looming predators.
Men scrambled busy on the bridge, thumping sounds drumming her eardrums. The cold touch of the slab metal she was on felt foreign. She felt her body itself was floating rather than the metal chair.
The alarms thundered across all the bridge. The captain Juno saw before jabbered orders in the commlink. She stood up floundering, the headache and nausea striking her hard. She looked around hurriedly for the handmaiden that wasn't there.
The song of screeching sounds ringing in her ears seemed so familiar to her. It sang and sang and sang again, and the thumping of footsteps tapped and chimed. Only then did Juno realised it was the battle alarms.
There was no peace to be found. And As the heat of battle engulfed her, she felt free from the dull illness that crippled her so long. She walked and leaned onto the commanding transparasteel of the bridge. The void was dark and full of shadows. The line of star destroyers was far ahead. Though small as the stars parsecs away, their fore hulls seemed like daggers ready to stab and bleed.
"Comm Scan has detected Four Imperial Star Destroyers and Twenty-two Venators, sir. The enemy van has formed a straight battle line, and it seems more unidentified ships are coming out of lightspeed".
"Prepare to jump to lightspeed to emergency retreat coordinates", The captain said hurriedly. "Jump immediately when ready".
"What is the situation"? Juno asked but was ignored. "What is it? What's happening"? she asked again, and the deck officer turned.
"Out fleet has stopped for hyperspace route alignments. The Rebel fleets were present in space, presumably waiting for us, my lady. I can't believe the Rebels managed to intercept our hyperspace align points".
He mumbled before turning to the signal officer. "Is it yet to establish communication? We need reinforcements from nearby sectors".
"I believe the enemy is using jammers". The signal officer said in a voice of fluster.
"They are no Calamari fleet. Yet they are worth an oversector fleet. I have never seen such a fleet before". It was no typical rebel tactic either, she thought. Rebels had their starfighters deployed before the battle, launching skirmishes, always provisioned for a retreat.
"It might be a rebelling moff", she said, leaning to the transparasteel.
"I see not, my lady. All Venators were sent to scrap a year ago. I heard the Rebels purchased hundreds of them in black markets and scrap yards".
Their conversation was cut short when Admiral Screed lurched in. He stood firm with his hands clasped on his back, occupying the very centre of the bridge.
"We attempted communication with the opposing fleet, Admiral", the captain said. "There was no reply. The enemy engaged communication jammers and gravity well generators, showing clear signs of belligerency".
"Did you identify the position of the enemy interdictor"?
"No, sir", the captain declined. "Our comm scan does not indicate either an Interdictor destroyer or an Immobiliser cruiser present. The gravity well is detected from the behind of the enemy lines, amongst the auxiliary ships".
"It must be a gravity mine". The Admiral said. "Our primary objective is to destroy it and jump to hyperspace".
"Admiral, I suggest launching long-range missiles on the enemy lines to keep them in check", he said.
"The boron missiles must be observed secrecy at all cost". Screed said. "If Vader finds out about it, you know Tarkin will not be pleased".
"The Grand Moff will not be pleased if we lose this battle". The captain said. "It will be a catastrophe if Lady Starkiller is killed or captured".
With a sigh, Screed said out hesitantly. "Ready for launch. Make sure to format the records after the battle".
The arguing made the order late. The enemy battle line was now in range. Hundreds of fighters swarmed out of the fore hangars of the Venator Destroyers, charging at a speed and determination Juno has never seen before.
"Star Destroyers, to battleline", The captain commanded. "Rotate to fore. Gunners, to positions. Fire missiles to screen. Lock-on to burst on fifteen kilometres".
The first salvo of missiles left a bright glowing stain, and all eight of them erupted like a pale blue star turning to supernova. Starfighters dropped like falling coloured leaves in autumn before a breath of wind. But some fluttered through, bouncing and sliding through, recovering their elevations.
It took little time than she expected when the small blurred dots came to a distinct shape. She then knew the captain was right. It was rebel fighters.
It was not the blending of the X-wings and Y-wings, though. It was not in their typical formation either, fighters in the van, bombers on the rear. All of them were made up of identical interceptors.
The A-wings was an exception and certainly an easy one. They were fast but clumsy. Maybe they were too fast for the rebel pilots, to the point they could not manage them properly. Their fragile shields and hulls could not stand a volley. When they burst into flames, the thrill of pleasure shook her as recoil.
But now, all she could do was to gaze out of the bridge viewport. The space was full of A-wings clad white and blue. Some drew red, firey long traces on black, their burning tails brushing against the backdrop. Some flew with their wings crushed, but they flew straight towards the Imperial fleet, firing their first salvos, or maybe to be their last. None relented, though. She wondered what could have made the rebels fight so gallantly.
Juno Eclipse had seen battles before, but being on the bridge was far different from what she had seen in the cockpit of her TIE. In the cockpit, everything was fast and in a blur. There was no such time to think. The only thing she could feel was the glow of battle.
"All flak guns, fire on will"! The deck officer clamoured. Picket frigates already moved forward into positions, and shots from anti-air guns were everywhere.
The fighters seemed to fly faster than the lasers themselves, evading most. Fighter laser cannons and concussion missiles shook the hull of the destroyer. One of them shook off a shot from a flak laser cannon, the green lights blasting on their shields.
"Admiral, we need permission to deploy the TIE fighters", the deck officer said, and it was met. On Admiral Screed's command, the fighters scrambled out of the hangar without a grudge in a perfect wedge, proud in their discipline.
But the squadron formations broke down as fast as the fighters themselves in a rain of cold blue lasercannons. The black solar panels of TIE fighters caught fire, and the cockpit broke like crushed eyeballs. One of the remains landed hard on the bridge, and the ion engines left screams before they crushed on the hulls.
It would have been impossible for most pilots to manoeuvre at such a speed. These may be the best pilots the Rebels could afford, and their best was better than what she expected. A TIE barely managed to catch six of an A-wing, but the green lasers veered away, missing the wings barely with a delicate turn of the rebel interceptor.
In moments, what covered the sight was only the white swarms of Rebel crafts. They have must hard train their pilots, she thought when one of the last TIE was crushed to pieces.
Juno felt the hum and tremor and rocking. Heavy turbolasers from capital ships began to ram the hulls. The chunks of projectiles bearing plasma bletted on the shield, leaving smeared pebbles on them. When the arsenal from the heavy octuple barbette made a hit, the ship trembled more. Captured, presumably, Imperial star destroyers filled in the ranks, covering the damaged vessels. Their ends were a sharp edge of the blade of the enemy formation.
"Load the Boron missiles to screen". Admiral Screed roared. "Lock-on point-blank range on the enemy centre".
The captain warned, "Admiral, our shields would not stand. They are already down to fifty per cent"! But Screed dismissed him.
The missiles blasted when they launched, and the wave whacked the flagship hard. The ship fell to starboard, to port, and to starboard, then to port again. The roaring of the enemy destroyer occupying the centre halted, then floated blank in the void.
The grey hulls stretched out in front of the bridge blossomed flames. Flak gun turrets with lighter armour stopped firing their salvos, only flame and smoke covering them now. The debris of the fighters, friend and foe alike, floated in the dark skies, and gentle tremours rammed the hulls as they crashed down. Their meagre frame shattered into smaller pieces against the heavy hulls of the star destroyer.
Turbolasers rammed. But this time, they did not blet on the surface but pierced through it. Heavy concussions shook her when she realised the main rebel line did not break.
The other formation of rebel star destroyers opened their dorsal hangars like the mouth of a freak, and starfighters tore out of them like vomit. She saw one of them flying directly to the main bridge. Only a lucky volley from one of the remaining flak guns could take it out.
She could taste the smell of the air. The taste was acrid and bitter, almost bile-like. In thick smokes, panic aroused. She could see little as babbling and screams grew in the din of battle. The voice of Admiral Screed and his captain was only head in a blur.
She was turning to stumble back when the handmaiden seized her arm. "What"? She squirmed in her grasp.
"You must evacuate, my lady", She said. Her voice was still calm and still, unlike the outcries howling in the halls. Juno looked back in confusion. "Where"?
"There is a vessel prepared for you to leave the engagement zone", the answer came. "We must get out of this ship, my lady".
Juno looked at her in fraught. "There are hundreds of enemy fighters out there". Juno was sure she would never make it through the swarms of starfighters, seeking prey. She will be blasted in seconds as soon as she leaves the hangar.
She ignored the further pleas of her handmaiden, pulling at her sleeves. She instead looked back into the viewport. She did not have the nerve to withstand her sudden panic.
The debris was left behind, and so were the distant stars of space. The engines roared. The grey hull of the victory destroyer passed by the Demolisher, leading the van. The weapons on the ship were fresh, but each of a volley, dozens returned. The hulls were smeared with blue ripples. Juno looked in nerve, waiting for the blue flecks until now to split red and gold into flames.
The commlink rang first. "Admiral, this is the victory destroyer Iron Fist. Our shields are down to half. I request an order to break formation". It said in a blurred voice.
"Request declined. Maintain tight formation. Crush through the enemy centre and take out the enemy interdictor". The Admiral appended a threat, "Remember this ship is carrying Lady Starkiller, Captain".
As they cruised forward, she heard sounds of large explosions from the rear when enemy turbolaser barrages came from all directions. The single Imperial Star Destroyer leading the line soon emitted smoke and flames, and when the engines were hit, a pillar of flame engulfed the ship from its belly to dorsal, all the way up to the bridges.
"Admiral, the ships of the rearguard sent an open transmission for surrender", The correspondence officer said. The words were fraught with doom. She could see the fear arousing from the stern face of the officers, from behind the masked helmets of the stormtroopers. The air was full of utter defeat. The word of capitulation was on everyone's lips.
Admiral Screed did not care. "Concentrate fire on the star destroyer on the front", Was his only reply. "Iron Fist, as soon as the enemy ships fall back, push in and break the line".
He then turned to the deck officer. "Convert all energy to the engines".
The straggling column of ships went through between the two rebel star destroyers. The Iron Fist was guarding the port in a broadside engagement, but a fierce broadside tattered open the starboard.
"Sir, the life-support modules are failing. There is no way but to surrender ...". A cadet said his last words before he fell. His burnt head fumed smoke.
A glutinous flow led down his eye slowly, a mixture of white, crimson and iris dark. Juno shuddered at the familiar scent of roasted flesh and ozone when she saw the blaster pistol in Screed's hand.
"Convert all energy to the engines", He commanded again, and this time no one dared to oppose. When the enemy broadsides spitting out lethal bolts of light was soon passed by, her heart lurched every second.
When they went past the bright blue lights of the engines of the enemy ship, she knew the enemy line has finally been breached.
The star destroyer was a lumbering beast. Lumbering, but still a beast. The remaining turrets hunted down the enemy auxiliary ships. The prey was indeed brave, charing head-on through barrages of turbolasers and missiles. The foe's light guns mostly left burnt scorches in the thick armour of the star destroyer, but whenever they hit the bared modules, the entire ship shook.
Amongst the enemy ships, she saw a single one turning to its tail. A small vessel, but she could recognise it bearing a single dome of the gravity well generator.
"There"! Before she could think, she shouted in the wonder of the bridge staff. "That is the enemy interdictor"!
The engines of star destroyers roared like howls of primal beasts. In the far right, the enemy capital ships were breaking formation to match the Imperial column. It was too late.
A salvo of heavy turbolasers was enough to burst flames out of the gravity well generator of the small vessel on Screed's order. A burst of acclamation went through the troops.
With the destruction of their interdictor, more enemy ships poured out of hyperspace, now dozens of them. One of the Rebel support ships was crushed in half on the horns of their destroyer in an imprecise hyperspace jump. Whenever they came, they unleashed volleys immediately but much missed.
"Signal a retreat. Immediately jump to lightspeed when ready". Screed said.
The Iron Fist was the first to jump away, followed by other remaining destroyers and frigates, still following the column. Through flames and smoke and debris, the flagship Demolisher was the last to jump. Through the acrid fog of smoke, she saw the blue whirlwinds of hyperspace and the quiet air of relief and exhaustion. When she looked back, she could see the handmaiden's face white of fear and distress.
