Time for a new chapter!

This darn site is acting weird. Says I got 20 reviews on this story but only shows 19. Irritating.

Center of "Solum" nebula
"Remnant" system
Hiding in shadow of "Remnant-2a"
Star Destroyer- Grey Wolf
Captain's Quarters

Mentally preparing himself for the coming conversation, Sergeant King of Bishop squad stiffly tapped the announcer, the resulting beep informing the man within of his presence. A few moments passed before an acknowledgment was heard and the door slid open. Swiftly entering the room, he took some steps forward before standing at attention, the door silently closing behind him.

Over the course of his career King had seen many an officer's quarters. Back in the early days of the GAR, right as the war began, most officers treated their quarters akin to how a senator treats their residence. A richly decorated and extravagant display intended to showcase their power and prestige. This, as he understood It, was a result of the lack of any major conflicts in the galaxy and the Republic's prior reliance on planetary defense forces. As the war dragged on, those egotistical gloryhounds were weeded out, replaced with more competent and militarily-minded individuals. Such individuals naturally had more spartan quarters, favoring function over form. When the Galactic Empire was created, most of the officer corps were comprised of these individuals, and thus retained the same utilitarian aesthetics. That being said, over the last several years he's noticed a steady return of the pompous extravagance of the old republic. The two varying styles were largely incompatible with eachother, evident by the fairly common clashing of the differing officers.

This was why he found Thrawn's personal quarters to be rather intriguing, as it seemed to strike a middle ground between the two. It was filled with a variety of seemingly random objects; paintings and sculptures being the most obvious, yet he doubted any of which would be worth any significant amount. Apparently they were crucial in Thrawn's operations, but damn if he knew how.

Speaking of Thrawn, the man was seated at his desk, flicking through several datapads scattered before him. When King entered the Chiss glanced at him before returning to the datapads.

"Sergeant King. At ease. I understand you had a tussle with the local wildlife in your last mission. How's the armor?"

King minutely relaxed his posture and nodded, "Just some minor scrapes and dents sir. Was repaired within an hour of mission end."

"Good, good. Your team is ready for another outing then?"

"The Rakatan station sir?"

Thrawn answered with a minor shake of his head, "While your presence would undoubtedly be helpful, the legions can handle the station themselves. No, I have something else in mind."

Tapping his console, a holomap flared into view, a massive mountain dominating the majority of the sight, surrounded by a decently sized city, seemingly built in and round the mountain.

"Do you recognize this?"

King gave a slow nod, "Mountain Glenn. Expansion of the Kingdom of Vale founded twenty-one years ago. Fell to continuous Grimm attacks within five years."

"I'm glad to see you do your research."

"I had a feeling we'd be fighting Grimm again sooner or later. Best way to beat your enemy is to know them, and who knows the Grimm better than those who have spent thousands of years fighting them?"

Thrawn allowed himself a small smile, "My thinking exactly."

Turning towards the map, he gestured at the city's borders.

"Your previous success gave up access to all public knowledge on their net. Naturally, there are areas of the net the public, and therefore we, cannot access. Government networks, corporation dealings, banking and infrastructure, and, of course-"

"-military technology", King finished, "which Mountain Glenn might still have."

"Indeed."

"Why Mountain Glenn? There are plenty of other ruins around. Far more recent ones too."

"Because Mountain Glenn has a multitude of fundamental differences compared to all the other constantly overrun settlements of Remnant. The biggest one being that is was intended to be permanent. Villages are spawned all the time, all over the Kingdoms whenever and wherever they can get away with it."

He leaned forward, his expression hard, "But those villages follow a pattern. They form, they build up, they survive for years, even decades at a time, but eventually, without fail, they either move, or get destroyed. All it takes is one bad day, one tragedy, and the village becomes another ruin."

He leaned back, clasping his hands together, "Mountain Glenn was Vale's attempt to break the pattern. They would settle somewhere, and they would stay there. As of such, they threw every credit they could at it. No expense was spared. In the span of five years they built an entire city, one with the most sophisticated and advanced defenses they could create. Many of which were abandoned once the Grimm finally breached the city."

He gazed at the map, taking in every detail, "So yes, there are plenty of ruins to choose from, and yes, quite a few are far more recent than Mountain Glenn. But none of which is the informational and technological treasure trove that Mountain Glenn is."

"So you want us to go in there and take anything that might have been left behind?"

"That was to be your original goal, yes."

"Original goal? What changed?"

Thrawn regarded him with a bemused expression, "You were not the first wave this time."

"Sir?"

"I sent some probe droids in first. Foremost to make sure you weren't just going to walk into a Grimm nest, and secondly to see if there actually was anything worth taking."

He frowned, "There wasn't. It seems the most state-of-the-art defenses technology could create, unsurprisingly requires near constant maintenance. Maintenance which they hadn't received in almost sixteen years. The probes found little more than rusted hulks."

He stood up and with a gesture shifted the map over to what King recognized as the city of Vale, complete with the massive hovering airships, each 2/3rd the size of a star destroyer.

"Fortunately, the probes found something of even greater value. I assume you know who owns those warships? And why they're currently in Vale?"

King nodded, "The warships are owned by the Kingdom of Atlas, who field the largest and only official military of the Kingdoms, and who are currently overseeing security for a Biannual remembrance festival in Vale."

"The Vytal Festival, yes. And in accordance with their agreement to provide security, they've allocated a fairly significant amount of their forces to do so. Including a large amount of advanced technology, such as battle droids and prototype mech walkers."

He smiled, "Prototype mech walkers that happened to be hijacked and stolen in route to the city by a local terrorist cell, which our probe droids have located in Mountain Glenn."

King's eyes widened as he heard that. Seeing the implications, he chuckled, "We can steal a mech from the terrorists and analyze one of Remnant's most state-of-the-art techs without ever alerting them."

"You think too small sergeant. Our goal is to integrate this world into the Hand, or if need be, the Empire. First contact is crucial. Particularly with a people so defensive and individualistic as this. I plan to announce ourselves to the public during the Vytal Festival, but the chance to make contact more discreetly with the Kingdoms' governments prior to that is one we would be remiss not to take. And what better way to say 'we come in peace' than to completely eliminate a terrorist cell and simultaneously return large amounts of stolen military equipment?"

Thrawn then continued, a slight smirk playing across his lips, "And if some pieces of said stolen military equipment is unaccounted for? Well, the terrorists have possessed that equipment for months now. Any missing pieces were ones they undoubtedly moved to other cells. A shame."

King nodded, expression thoughtful, "Yes sir, quite a shame."

Thrawn looked back down to map, "Now that the explanation is out of the way, your objective is as follows. You are to eliminate all terrorist forces in Mountain Glenn and secure the cache of Atlesian military equipment, priority being the mech walkers. Estimated enemy forces consist of roughly two-hundred lightly trained infantry, three-hundred at the highest, and, should you not secure them in time, the mechs. As of such, make sure you bring plenty of ion grenades and heavy ordnance. You will be supported by two platoons of the 429th and a formation of 4 AT-STs."

He looked at King with a hard expression, "Understand, you will not have access to air support. Much of the enemy base is located underground, and even if it wasn't, Mountain Glenn is too close to Vale. Any supporting craft would be noticed immediately. Likewise, you must complete this mission as quickly as possible. Extended combat will undoubtedly attract the Grimm. Should that happen, you will retreat immediately. If they surround you down there, you will die. Understood?"

King straightened and snapped off a salute, "Yes sir. We'll get it done."

Thrawn nodded, "Good. You are dismissed."

Center of Solum nebula
Deep Space
Just outside firing range of Rakatan Security Station

In the black of space, a single broken star destroyer hovered in place, its hull crumpled and dotted by gaping holes. At a glance one could be convinced the ship was lifeless, drifting and powerless as it was. Yet a closer look would reveal a different truth. The aforementioned hull breaches would sporadically light up in flashes of light, as welding crews patched what they could, and sealed what they couldn't. Every few minutes the shields would temporarily flare into the visible spectrum as engineers shifted their limited power supply between critical systems. The engines themselves would likewise pulse, ensuring the ship maintained a certain distance from their other major woe.

In the distance the Rakatan station hovered menacingly, its fully powered form bristling with weapons, and a far cry from the lifeless husk they originally found.

Interestingly enough, the space between the station and the warship was not completely empty. Circling the station were five Theta-class AT-AT barges. The barges maneuvered around the station, occasionally skimming the edge of its firing range, seemingly probing for weaknesses in its firing arc. The moment one would enter range the station would fire any gun it could. Firing at a small, (relatively) fast craft at the absolute edge of its range unsurprisingly meant that the vast majority of these shots missed. Yet every once and a while a shot would connect, critically straining the dropship's shields and blackening a portion of its hull. At which point the dropship would exit the station's range, wait for its shields to recharge, and then resume the risky game of cat and mouse.

Still, after hours of tricky maneuvers and close calls, nothing seemed to stand out, leaving the conflict at a stalemate.

Yet every stalemate has to end eventually, and in a flash of light the odds of the inevitable fight shifted considerably.

The Chimaera had arrived.

"Captain Pellaeon, my thanks for your assistance."

Parck's voice transmitted understandably, though heavily distorted by static. Likewise his figure on the holotable was blurred and seemed to flicker at random intervals, thus eliciting a frown from Pellaeon.

"With your arrival, I do believe we now have a decent chance to rescue the 909th."

Still frowning Pellaeon nodded, "I am pleased to provide the necessary assistance. Might I inquire about the state of your communications? They were fine when we last spoke."

It was hard to tell through the distorted image, but Parck seemed to wave the concern away.

"We recently learnt that the damage to our hyperdrive system was more extensive than we thought. The backlash that destroyed it reached all the way into reactor. My engineering team assures me there's no danger of a breach, but we've had to limit our power supply for the time being."

He shrugged.

"I told my team to prioritize shielding. Apparently that's at the expense of communications. Though, if you could send over some teams and supplies of your own it would be extremely helpful."

Relaxing a fraction Pellaeon nodded, "Of course, they're on their way."

Turning towards the map he arched an eyebrow, "I see you're already…", he paused, regarding the icons for the Theta-class AT-AT barges with confusion, "…probing the enemy? I thought you still possessed some Ties. Would they not be better suited to such a role than AT-AT barges?"

Parck nodded, "They undoubtedly would, had I been probing the enemy in the traditional sense. I am not. "

He zoomed in on the station, highlighting its weapons, "Those guns made mincemeat of my small craft on the initial reinforce attempt, and any subsequent attempt will likely face the same fate. There's simply too many guns. However, those weapons are over 30,000 years old and were designed to fight warships of its own era. To say they are outdated is an understatement of extreme proportions."

He gave a small grin.

"I'm not probing its defensive capabilities, but rather its offensive capabilities. Without risking the Admonitor herself, the barges are the most heavily defended ships I have available. By allowing themselves to get hit by stray shots and analyzing the damage inflicted, we've calculated how long it would take for the station's guns to breach a star destroyer's shields.

Pellaeon's eyes progressively got wider as the explanation went on, before grinning at the end, "I see. So what's the conclusion?"

Parck's grin matched his own.

"Two and a half hours, give or take ten minutes. Up to four hours if you divert any excess power. More than enough time to dock and unload reinforcements."

"Perfect, I'll ready my troops. Will the Admonitor attempt docking as well?"

Parck's grin turned into a frown.

"No. My shields just barely crested 15% last hour. They'd be breached long before we'd have offloaded any significant amount of troops."

"That's alright. You've done enough already."

As the two discussed, the Chimaera moved into position, hovering protectively above its wounded cousin. Once talks concluded it enacted the chosen plan.

The massive engines pulsed then roared, pushing the mighty warship forward. Its shields flared into the visible spectrum as they were powered to their fullest extent, the faint blue barrier hugging the warship's hull. Swiftly passing by the AT-AT barges it entered the station's firing range. Immediately stuck by a wall of laser fire as hundreds of guns hammered into it. Its shields pulsed, but remained steady, and the ship continued onward.

Closer and closer it came, the barrage not easing in the slightest, and indeed only seemed to increase in ferocity. Yet the shield's remained active, as so the ship continued undaunted. A few moments more and it reached the station, settling inbetween two of the major prongs it turned its bulk, preparing to forcefully dock.

Unbeknownst to it however, several levels above where the ship was set to dock a portion of the station's outer hull blackened, turning from gunmetal grey to deep obsidian. A moment more and the patch was crisscrossed with crimson etchings, rippling and warping with the metal it was subsuming. The star destroyer's first warning was when the patch of metal abruptly ripped open, the hole exposing the innards of the station. They barely had time to understand what was happening before the attack began.

Hundreds, thousands of droids spilled into the void, streaming towards the star destroyer. The Chimaera immediately began to back away, its point-defense guns opening up, blasting apart dozens upon dozens of the machines, yet there were just too many too close. Thousands latched onto the hull, all immediately attempting to tear into the hull. When their claws proved incapable of breaking through the meters-thick hull, they began scrambling all over the ship, searching for any potential openings.

Windows, airlocks, and docking bays proved more accessible entry points, allowing the machines to spread throughout the ship. However, the most popular, and most easily abused entry point was unsurprisingly the main hangar bay. Hundreds of the machines managed to streamed in before the panicked hanger crew turned on the bay's particle shields. Yet the machines were as thorough as they were ruthless, quickly finding and destroying the particle shield emitters, opening the way once more.

Within minutes of spilling from the station, there were over 3,000 droids rampaging throughout the ship, slaughtering and massacring all in their way.

The Chimaera turned and blasted away from the station at full blast, not halting until it was completely out of range of the station. Minutes later reinforcements from the Admonitor arrived, quickly entering the ship the same way the droids had, and over the course of the next five hours would help clear out the ship room by room, corridor by corridor.

Two more ship-wide sweeps and 7 hours later the ship was officially declared clear of droid presence.

"That was disastrous."

Pellaeon was furious.

Boarding operations were well known to the empire. Various rebel groups were always attempting to seize imperial ships. Even in the opposite case, where imperials attempted to board an insurgent ship, many rebels would choose to go out in a blaze of glory, charging into imperial ships and trying to cause as much damage as possible before they were inevitably killed.

So yes, counter-incursions were always considered a threat when boarding hostile facilities, regardless of the situation, and the troops set to board the station were fully prepared to repeal any attempt to do so. In this case, by falling back to prepared kill-zones just past the docking bays. But that relied on the enemy boarding the ship the same way the troopers intended to board the station. Which they didn't.
Instead, the station had just decided to create a brand new hanger right infront of the Chimaera, allowing a massive droid horde, far larger than was predicted to be on the station at all, to jump through space and board the Chimaera from literally every direction.

"Agreed", Parck replied, "How many did you lose?"

"7,434 KIA. An additional 2,389 in various states of wounded. Almost a third of the Chimaera's complement!"

He sighed, "We're just luck the majority of casualties were support staff and crew. My stormtrooper complement remains relatively whole."

Parck nodded, glancing over the reports.

"We need a new strategy."

Pellaeon leaned forward, clasping his hands together, eyes hard a diamonds.

"Then let's get to it."

Two hours later, a new plan was set into action.

The Admonitor -peaking at 40% shields- and the Chimaera formed up, bows pointed directly at the station. Advancing together the two ships crossed into range of the station at the same time. Immediately hails of lasers slammed into them, resolutely being absorbed by the stalwart shields. Unlike all previous attempts, this time the destroyers responded with a barrage of their own. However, rather than the expected emerald turbolasers, pale cobalt streaks lashed out.

The ion cannon shots hit the station in bursts of static, electricity arcing over dozens of its laser batteries.

The station had over 200 weapon emplacements, over half of which were focusing their fire on the destroyers, yet moment by moment, shot by shot, one by one, they were slowly being disabling by the star destroyers' ion cannons. In desperation the station began siphoning power from other subsystems. Shields, sensors, life support, anything and everything that could be lowered or turned off was and had its power redirected to the weapons.

And it worked. Slowly, one by one, depowered weapons began reactivating. Within minutes the rate of reactivation was matching the rate of depowering. Furthermore the constant barrage was beginning to wear on the Admonitor's shields, having drained them back down to 10%.

With their gambit seemingly failed, the star destroyers began their withdrawal, the Chimaera placing itself infront of the Admonitor, shielding it from the fire.

Unbeknownst to the station, the Admonitor did not immediately begin its retreat, but rather launched several cargo containers from its hanger bay.

The station, having its view blocked by the Chimaera, did not see this.

The Admonitor then grabbed to containers with its tractor beams, and with carefully calculated movements, flung the containers towards the station on extremely precise paths.

The station, with its sensors lowered as much as it could be, didn't detect this.

The containers, filled with supplies, munitions, and heavy weapons; but no lifeforms, as even low-powered passive sensors could detect those; where all but invisible to the station, and so would continue on their carefully selected paths with no issues.

The station would only learn of them over three hours later, at the exact moment they flew into the station's various hangar bays, directly into the hands of the beleaguered defenders.

Center of Solum nebula
Deep Space
Rakatan Security Station
Hanger E, Point 01, Section 1

"Here comes another wave!"

The furious yell blasted through his helmet's comms, instantly ripping Bles out of his dozing. Jumping up and frantically looking around him, he spotted his blaster. Grabbing it and already hearing the now intimately familiar whine of blasters, as well as the unfamiliar but entirely welcome thrum of E-webs all over the hanger opening up, he scrambled up the makeshift barricades. Cresting the top, he immediately ducked back down as a slab of metal, roughly the size of his hand, sliced through the air where his head was a mere second ago, spinning off into the distance.

Pausing a moment to calm his racing heart, 'Kriffing things are throwing crap at us now?' he glanced at his HUD's internal clock. What he saw caused a snarl to force its way out.

'Fifteen minutes! Not even fifteen minutes of sleep and they're already surging again! Kriffing droids!'

Quickly checking his newly acquired Imperial Heavy Repeater's ammo pack -still good for about another 200 shots yet- he once again crested the top of the barricades. Spotting the nearest clump of droids that had gotten past the kill zones that were the hanger entrances, he quickly aimed and let loose, the rapid spray of metallic slugs perforating the droids, causing them to blow apart in bursts of sparks and black mist.

Above he could hear the whine of their lone Tie fighter take to the air again. Settling above the center of the defensive line it began its now fairly routine job of acting as an incredibly valuable turret, hovering and twisting to and fro, blasting any droid dumb enough to enter its sights.

He grinned. Ever since they received those new supplies this hanger's become an emperor-damned fortress. This wave won't be getting any further than the last did.

'Stupid kriffing droids. You'd think they'd realize when a strategy isn't working.'

"Watch out!"

He turned just in time to see a massive hunk of metal come hurling out of the mist and slam into the barricade, shattering the stack of crates like a house of cards and sending the troopers manning it flying.
Turning towards where the slab had come from, he saw them. Three hulking monstrosities, each close to two stories tall, and each made up of dozens upon dozens of droids and other scrap metal seemingly mashed together.

He got the distinct feeling the universe was laughing at him.