Chapter 7: Intercept at Concord Dawn

The dazzling blue tunnel of hyperspace stretched before Tash, giving him a moment for contemplation as he prepared for this first battle after Mandalore. In the semi-silence, he could still feel his head ringing from the chat he'd had between himself, Canth, and Admiral Ackbar regarding his promise with Countess Wren. While in the end, the elder Walden had agreed to provide another detachment of Firaxan group for a Mandalorian defense fleet and the Admiral had bolstered that with the logistical support, both commanding officers had some choice words for Tash regarding his "volunteering" of forces that were not his own. Part of him was all but certain if it had been any system other than Mandalore, they would have made him take the blaster-bolt for it; considering the oath he had taken, he was relieved that wasn't the case.

Today was a preemptive strike which actually made good on his oath and fit into the Alliance war plans simultaneously. The target was Concord Dawn, historically a defensive bastion of Mandalore's sector, now was merely a deserted pitstop on the way to the planet. Canth's intel suggested there was a member of Clan Saxon currently in contact with the imperials who was seeking to defect. Along with their defection, the Mando had also offered intel that Captain Grego Manx's fleet would be arriving with some bomber squadrons in an attempt to set up for another assault on Mandalore. Therefore, the plan was to take down those enemy squadrons and recover the defector's ship while the detachment of Firaxan Group set up a defensive line at Mandalore. Task Force Trident just had to soften them up so Canth's people could knock them down. Tash remembered all too well how formidable Manx's VSDs were, so the neb-Bs were definitely at a disadvantage in both firepower and durability; however, the enemy's squadron complement had always been lacking. Even down one X-wing squadron, with Lt. Antilles and Commander Sunrider filling out their anti-squadron roles, he was certain that they had the upper-hand here.

The chime from the navigator's station made Tash turn. "Sir, approaching Concord Dawn now," the officer reported.

After a moment, hyperspace faded from view, stars and space returning. The comm officer signaled to him and Tash cleared his throat. "All hands, battle-stations! Pilots, to your fighters!"

Cora opened the throttle slowly as hanger-control signaled her for launch. After a brief moment of weightlessness as the craft left the Trident, her X-wing's artificial gravity kicked in and she angled the craft to match the larger ship's speed and heading. "All craft report in," she ordered, the other snubfighter pilots reporting their callsigns. Steadily, she watched as her helmet's HUD updated with new combat information. Sure as the stars in the sky, there sat two Victory-class star destroyers on the far side of Concord Dawn's debris-fields. Surrounding them were three squadrons of TIEs, two bomber and one standard fighter wing, as well as three small support craft… Cora paused as she mentally checked her intel. "Trident, this is Cobalt Leader," she said after flipping the comms back to the main fleet. "I'm seeing one more small attack craft than planned. Can you confirm?"

There was a brief pause before the flight controller replied. "Confirmed, reading one unknown among the enemy squadrons. Stand by…" a couple of moments passed as the data continued to slowly stream in. "Jumpmaster 5000 confirmed among enemy squadrons. Is broadcasting an imperial IFF and seems to be flying close to enemy squads. Recommend caution upon engagement."

"Copy Trident," Cora said, her eyes narrowing at the new readings. If there was one thing she had learned to dread throughout this campaign, it was unconventional imperial fighter craft. Of course, that didn't change what needed to be done. "Cobalt, form up on me and keep a loose formation. Gold, Garuda, both of you watch our flanks." Affirmations soon rang through and Cora angled her nose toward an outcropping of asteroids. They could use them as a cover right up until the enemy fleet was in striking range, then break toward them under the cover of the Trident's turbolaser fire. With any luck, that would hopefully mitigate them being outnumbered two-to-one… hopefully.

Tash eyed the slowly approaching enemy ships cautiously. Senior-Captain Grego Manx had exchanged fire with Task Force Trident a while back during the campaign. Since then, it had mostly been the pleasure of General Pul-lar to tackle the double VSD fleet. However, as if to encapsulate how difficult the fight in the Outer Rim had become, the mon-cal general had gone MIA after the last run in with Manx. At some point, what had been a manageable enemy fleet had now gained some extra teeth and Tash wanted to make sure his crews weren't the ones to suffer due to that lack of intel. "Gunnery, what's the status on our range?" Tash asked, his eyes narrowing at the two wedge-shaped destroyers.

"Just a couple of seconds from effective range sir," the officer reported. That was one thing that the Neb-Bs had on their side. At long range, the outdated victory class destroyers had the exact same damage output with only a fraction of the maneuverability. Add in the fact that the Trident herself was equipped with improved shielding technology and a team of mandalorian technicians managing the output. With the Ramora flanking, at least on paper, they had the upper-hand. In the distance, he could see the guns on the enemy destroyer beginning to light up. However, he could also see the ion cannons turning to target them as well.

A warning siren began to play as the sensor officer spun around in their chair. "Sir, abnormal energy reading from the VSD II… the ion cannons are lit up like a solar flare!"

Eyes widening, Tash grabbed hold of the command platform guard rail. "Everyone brace!" he exclaimed, as a wash of green and blue energy bolts washed across the front arc, the shields taking the hit. As the craft slowly ceased shaking and the claxons ceased their whine, Tash stood up straight again and glanced over at engineering. "Report!"

"Bow shields holding at 33%. I don't know what the hell that was, but I've never seen a VSD do that from long range!" the engineering officer said.

"Nor have I… sensors, are we going to have to take more of that?"

The officer checked his display closely for a moment before giving a relieved sigh. "Doubtful. I see a pair of overheated capacitors that the destroyer just jettisoned. We should be fine until we reach medium range."

Tash nodded before turning back toward the gunnery officer. "Well then, it's our turn. Return fire!"

Cora blinked as the bright lights faded from her view. Had those shots really just come from that VSD? Turning back to the X-wing's comm controls, she found the Trident's frequency. "Cobalt Leader to Trident, come in Trident!" she said, hoping that her voice didn't sound too frantic.

After a moment, the flight controller's voice rang back loud and clear. "Roger Cobalt, this is Trident. Our shields are holding, you have green light to engage!"

"Copy Trident, starting first attack run now," Cora said, feeling her shoulders relax, relieved the flagship was alright. "R3 switch the shields to double-front, we're going in!" The snubfighter boosted forward, weaving through the small asteroid field with ease. A trio of red turbolaser blasts shot past as the Trident laid down some covering fire. In the distance, she could see the enemy squadrons forming a defensive line between her and the VSDs; the mandalorian gunship situated amongst them. "All squadrons target the TIEs and the mercenary fighters, but do not hit the gauntlet. I repeat, DO NOT TARGET THE DEFECTOR!" Angling herself toward the jumpmaster, she began searching for a lock. Just a couple more meters… the X-wing's own lock warning blared to life. "Huttspit!" Cora cursed before jinking hard left. Quadruple blue energy bolts shot past her, just a hair off target. Studying her display, she noted that familiar aggressor starfighter. Of course it wasn't going to be that easy, she thought to herself. Soon she was seeing space around her awash with laserfire and frantic maneuvering. Stuck in a furball right next to an Imperial capital ship was not her idea of good positioning, but with so few options, she knew they couldn't possibly have asked for any better. "Gotta pull this out of the fire," she growled to herself, spinning the craft around to angle toward the main combat zone.

Immediately, she caught sight of that same jumpmaster, the craft just casually floating between the chaos. "Cocky bastard," she said, a small smirk forming on her lips. Once again lining up a shot, this time firing off a trio before the warning siren blared in her ears. She saw one of the red bolts glance off the enemy's shields before she had to give a hard dive to avoid one of the defending TIE fighters. Switching frequencies, she reached out to Garuda squadron. "Wedge, I'm not able to get a good bead on the jumpmaster, can you get after him?"

The comms gave a garbled slurry of static before the young Lieutenant's voice came through semi-clearly. "... got my hands full with my own problems, flight lead. That's a neg…" The comms cut out and Cora immediately turned toward the radar display. Wedge's signal was still there, but the rest of his squadron wasn't. A moment later, his X-wing flew across the radar screen and was out of range. Emergency jump, not the best ending, but it at least meant he was alive. She was once more pulled from her thoughts as the lock warning screamed at her again. As she flew in closer to the hull of the VSD, she only just dodged to the side in time to avoid taking a turbolaser bolt as a direct-hit. A stifled scream in her squad's frequency sent a chill down her spine; someone else hadn't been as lucky. Punching the frequency back over to the Trident, she tried to keep the panic out of her voice. "Flight leader to Trident, we need fire support! Friendlies are dropping left and right. I have no eyes on the defector and have lost contact with Garuda. I repeat, Trident please assi…" Another explosion just to her right caught her eye and stopped her mid-sentence. She only caught a brief glimpse of the Ramora's mangled bow before the neb-B made a desperate jump into hyperspace. There wasn't any time to re-collect her thoughts and try once again to get through to the flagship, as the lock warning returned once more and her R3 screamed just behind her. Muscle memory took over and she all but wrenched the control yoke to one side. A second later, her main viewport filled with blue light, blinding her.

"R3, get us out of here," she breathed shocked at how calm her voice sounded, blinking hard to get the spots from her vision. Protesting beeps and whistles answered her but she banged a fist hard on the canopy above her, ignoring the pain that shot through her fist as she did. "Frag-it R3, I don't care about the coordinates! We jump or we DIE!"

"Sir, Cobalt Leader has left the combat zone," the flight controller reported. Tash let go of a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. That was it. With Commander Sunrider gone, along with leaders of both Gold and Garuda, they'd ensured that the now almost decimated squadrons could at least be rebuilt; the immediate problem with that, however, was that they were now completely exposed regarding the enemy squadrons, including those TIE bombers.

"Can I get an update on the defector's status?" he asked, trying to look over her shoulder at the display.

The officer tapped away at the controls, trying to see where the red-white gauntlet fighter was. "... they've slipped free of the main imperial squadrons, just barely still in engagement range of the jumpmaster."

Tash thought a moment before giving a nod. "Establish contact. Tell them to run." He knew that contacting the defector now would reveal them to the imperials since they would need to broadcast over the open channel, but there wasn't really any choice at this point. Either they tried to break away and escape, or they'd have to remain with the Empire and risk ISB rooting them out. If the battle were turning out more positively for the rebels, maybe the Trident could coordinate a more in-depth escape plan; sadly, the "ifs" were not on their side right now. "Helm, plot us a course past the VSDs, we need to get out of here. Comms, contact the Morning Star and tell them the same."

Turning back to the front viewport, Tash watched as the destroyer ahead grew ever closer. The positive to that was the Trident's helm had been able to maneuver her out of the victory II's main arc. Given the right maneuvering, they could easily swing past the destroyer and escape to hyperspace in just a few minutes. "Calculate the jump to the rallypoint and hold until we're clear," Tash instructed, his knuckles going white against the railing overlooking the rest of the command deck. Even though his voice remained calm, he knew all too well what a dire position they were in. He couldn't show panic, not if he wanted to keep the crew from panicking as well. He just had to shoot for the hyperlane, keep the strongest shields pointed at the incoming fire, and not think about the VSD I still bearing down on them from the starboard side.

A group of explosions rang out from the port-side, the lack of tremors at least reassuring him it wasn't the Trident taking the hits. "Sir," the sensor officer called. "The Morning Star has just unloaded their ordnance pods on the bow of the vic-II!"

As much as Tash wanted to take pleasure in the small victory, he knew he couldn't afford it, the rest of the crew couldn't afford it. "Helm, stay on-course. The Morning Star's attack gives us an opening, swing around their superstructure and gun it!" As the larger ship's command bridge loomed just to the right, he gritted his teeth as another explosion rang out. Something in his gut said this wasn't the same grade of news as the first one. "Steady… steady…"

The seconds trickled by like bantha over a narrow bridge. Tash felt the ship rock and tremor as another volley crashed into the reinforced starboard arc, the engineering team reporting the shielding status. Finally, the helm officer spoke up. "We're clear, Commander! We've escaped the VSD II's path and are en-route to the escape vector. Just a couple more kilometers and we can make the jump."

Tash nodded before turning back to the comm officer. "Hail the Morning Star, tell them to follow us out."

"Sir..." the sensor officer spoke up, his voice slightly muted and his tone hesitant. "The Morning Star had to make an emergency jump. They couldn't get around the vic II's front arc in time."

Taking a breath, Tash slammed a fist down on the railing before turning back toward the main viewport. Before them lay a small resupply station and just beyond that, open space. The VSD I was trying to angle back in toward them, but with the outdated ship's shorter effective range, there wasn't much worry from that. However, even before the warning sirens began to blare, Tash was turning toward the gunnery officer. "Full focus on point-defence! We'll at least take one or two of those TIEs down before we jump!" he returned his attention to engineering. "Time to see how the mandalorian shield techs can handle incoming fire from starfighters."

A few more tense seconds ticked by before the sensor officer gave the first report. "Bomber wing 1 firing full salvo on starboard!" Immediately engineering was on the comms while gunnery started picking targets. Two TIEs down, four direct hits on the shields, starboard shields holding. "Bomber wing 2, same target, same payload!" The ship rocked from these impacts, the engineering reporting the inevitable shield failure. Four TIEs were wiped from the scanners.

"Helm, hold steady," Tash said, his eyes deadlocked on their destination. "Incoming from the front!" The standard TIE squadron was angling in for a strafing run. "Gunners, where's our coverfire?" Just above the bridge, the laser cannons took aim and spread a heavy layer of scarlet flak. The eyeball-shaped fighters jinked and swayed as they continued their approach. A couple of the fighters went down as they failed to dodge the cannonfire. Then, the loud reports of the linked turbolasers rang out from below, the more massive bolts cutting through the TIEs flight-path and quickly vaporizing all but one. The survivor took some flak fire as they tried desperately to disengage. "Hold fire," Tash said, as the imperial fighter swayed drunkenly back toward the enemy destroyers. Glancing at the sensors, he watched as the two mercenary fighters angled in for approach. "Engineering, we need those shields back up. What's the status?"

The engineering officer spoke into the comms before glancing back at him. "The teams are working on it. Apparently the mandalorians are using some unorthodox methods, letting the generators charge rather than immediately feeding the energy into the shields. Should I have them focus on just regenerating the shields?"

Tash wanted to take a moment to think… but there wasn't time. He needed to make a judgement call. "No. If the Mandalorians have a plan, I'll trust their judgement." Before he could give out any further orders, the entire ship trembled once again. "Report!"

"VSD I got a couple of shots into the starboard hull," engineering replied. "The armor took the brunt, but life support in the dorsal strut is draining!"

"We'll worry about that later," Tash said, dismissing the report with a hand. So long as the ship itself was still in one piece, that was the key. "Close blast doors and distribute emergency rebreathers to essential personnel." The incoming fire warning sprang forth anew, the sensor officer reporting the aggressor and jumpmaster making their assaults. "Everyone brace for impact!" The scream of engines tore faintly just behind the rear bulkhead of the bridge, but no new warning sirens added their cries to the cacophony. "... did they miss?"

"No sir… the shields came back on just in time to absorb the blasts," the engineering officer reported, his voice not hiding its surprise nor its relief. "I don't know how they did it, but they boosted them in almost perfect timing with the incoming shots."

Tash let out a breath and smirked to himself. It wasn't surprising to him. Ursa Wren had supplied those shield techs; if she was serious enough about their pact to threaten his life, of course she would have sent some of her clan's best. "Commander, we've cleared the debris field," the helm reported. "Nav computer is set. On your orders."

Turning toward the flight controller, Tash gave a hopeful, questioning look. Turning back to him, she removed her headset and gave a grave shake of her head. Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes before nodding back to the helm. "Let's go get our pilots."

The first thing that Cora remembered after exiting hyperspace after the battle was how cold she suddenly felt. Yes, R3 had transferred power from the non-essential systems and shut down others to prevent them from being completely dead in deep space, but that wasn't the only reason. Right then, she couldn't say exactly how many of her people had made it out of that battle alive. Wedge yes, maybe Gold Leader… but she couldn't say anything for any of the others. When they'd made the emergency jump, the astromech had obeyed her to a fault: right now, they weren't at the rally-point and as she gazed out the slowly fogging canopy, she saw nothing but lonely distant stars.

"R3… can we make another jump?" she said, trying her best to ignore how her breath started to fog inside the cockpit. A few beeps and whistles later and she felt the tension lightly fall from her shoulders. "Better half-power than none. Do it, I'll curl up and bear it." The droid gave a worried response, but did as it was told. The ship turned on its own as Cora brought her knees to her chest and rested back in her seat. After a few more moments, the hyperdrive hummed back to life. The flight suit was made to keep a pilot warm in just these situations; her X-wing's life support, even at less than full power, would keep her breathing. All she had to do was wait. It might have been seconds later, maybe minutes, but soon enough she fell asleep amid hyperspace's brilliant blue lights.

It wasn't until there came the lurch back to realspace that she regained consciousness. Jolting up in her seat, she winced as a crick in her neck protested the sudden motion. However, even as she protectively rubbed the offended spot, she sighed in relief as she saw the familiar sights of the Neb-Bs and Hammerhead Corvette; battered and beaten, but alive and functioning. Immediately there was a crackling on her comms. "R3, boost that signal," she said, crossing her arms to hug herself as she again realized how cold the cockpit still was.

"... -er Sunrider come in, this is the Trident!" the frantic voice of the flight controller rang through, starting out a bit garbled but quickly improving to full audibility.

"Sunrider here," Cora responded, only now noticing how tired she sounded. "Reporting for duty."

A relieved humorless chuckle clattered over the other end. "You're duty's plenty done for the day, flight-lead. Just sit tight, we're sending a U-wing out to give you a tow."

"Great, because I think my X-wing's about as exhausted as I am right now. Sunrider out."

It took all of about ten minutes, but soon Cora was back into the Trident's modest hanger bay. The wave of warmth that hit her was almost like eating a gourmet meal after subsisting on outdated ration packs; or perhaps it was some concussion she'd suffered during the prior dogfight that was making her suddenly nauseous. Either way, she did her best to swallow it all back down as the canopy hissed open and a technician offered her a hand. As she climbed out, she looked around the overall much emptier hanger and realized what the real cause of her upset stomach was.

There were two Y-wings, three red-striped X-wings, and one blue-striped one aside from her own; all of them were pocked with carbon scoring and some obvious essential system damage. Her legs felt weak and wobbly as she stood there taking in the facts of the sheer loss that they'd suffered… people who she'd been serving with from the start of this campaign. She tried to take a step and her footing faltered. She would have been face-down on the durasteel floor had it not been for her blue and silver astromech which rushed in front of her just in time. "Thanks R3…" she groaned, forcing herself back onto two feet. "I'll take it slow. You go get cleaned up, okay?" The droid turned its round head to stare at her for a long moment, its silence betraying its doubt. "I'll be fine, really. I just… need to rest, okay?"

R3 gave a sad "Ooh-woo…" but did as it was told, turning and heading toward the droid charging stations on the far side of the hanger. Cora offered it one more smile before turning and heading for the turbolift, her eyes steeled forward, forcing herself not to glance at any of the empty spaces where the rest of her squadron's fighters were usually parked.

As the lift began to head up toward the main dorsal strut, she swallowed hard again, closed her eyes tight as she felt them start to well up, and slugged the wall hard; wanting to feel any other pain than the one gnawing at her insides. "Why… why in the universe did it have to be me… of all people to live through that hell, why me?" After a long moment, she heard the door open behind her, prompting her to wipe her eyes, straighten, and try not to let the thoughts flood her senses again until she reached the flight-crew quarters. As she turned, however, she immediately felt her spine stiffen as she forced her feet together. "Commander Walden," she said, offering a hasty salute. "I apologize for not being present at the rally-point soone…"

"Commander Sunrider, please…" he said, his voice muted as he waved the salute away. "At-ease. The last thing I care about right now is protocol. I'm just glad you made it back."

Cora paused, but soon nodded and lowered her arm. "Understood sir. I… was there anything you needed from me?"

Tash seemed to study her for a long moment before offering a half-smile. "I've received word from Mandalore. Firaxan Group met Manx' forces head-on. After the fight we'd forced them through, the imperials had to turn and run. Rebel high command decided that Mandalore would also be receiving a dedicated base, making defending it in the future much easier for us," he said. There was a pause after he finished, as if looking for the words to continue. "It... doesn't make up for the people who we've lost today, not by a long shot; but I wanted to make sure you heard it. Their fight lives on in us now. We'll make it count." He gave a nod before stepping past her into the lift. She didn't say anything as she watched the doors close behind him. Once she heard the lift moving, Cora turned and headed for her quarters, her mind still trying to parse through the guilt while desperately trying to cling to the small comfort the Commander had been able to bring her.