Hey, everyone!
So, I finally have a new chapter for this story. I kinda went through developent hell. However, it's done and I think we did a solid job. So, read, have fun, and let us know what you guys think. I do appreciate the feedback.
So, without further ado, I give you chapter 4...
(UNSC Infinity: Three Weeks Later)
"There are five warships currently docked- the Resolute, the Strikefast, the Tranquility, the Avenger, and the Liberator," Commander Palmer explained to the crowd of Spartans, "On each ship, Alliance troops will secure the engineering deck and the bridge. For them, this is a relatively straightforward operation with one catch..."
"Each ship is held down by those giant clamps," picked up Buck, an ODST turned Spartan in trademark dark gray ODST colored armor.
"Exactly. Each ship is held in place by four of those, with each one offering direct ring to ship access. On top of that, there are two starboard and two portside tractor beams that due most of the work in regards to holding each ship in place," Commander Palmer confirmed
She stopped as she let the information sink in. In the brief second that she paused, she scanned the helmeted faces in the room. There were five Spartan teams in the room. They were all Spartan IVs, Palmer not having command over the IIs or IIIs, and for once, they were fighting a war on their terms.
She continued with a renewed sense of pride, "The systems holding each ship in place are controlled from command decks above their ships. Each team will secure a command deck and, with A.I. help, begin releasing the ships. It is important that the clamps come up first. Security will pounce on those ships at the first sign of what we're doing, and the Alliance doesn't have the numbers to get locked in an extended shooting match."
The Spartans nodded collectively, their unspoken order clear. Get the ships out of dock before security swarms the ships.
"What about Blue Team ma'am?" a IV in blue and black armor asked.
Palmer allowed a faint smirk to cross her face. "Blue team's got their own mission and will check in with Hood when they are done. Further orders will be issued to each team once their primary objective is complete, depending on the status of the battle."
The rest of the briefing went into detail about what to expect inside the station. In short, there was little that the Spartans didn't expect or hadn't seen some variation of before. There was the usual round of heavy armored doors, automated cannons, and armed soldiers to keep things interesting.
"Any questions?" Commander Palmer finally asked.
She looked around and saw nothing but poker faces and the occasional, slow shake of the head.
"Alright, grab your gear and head for the hangars. Insertion is in one hour," Commander Palmer concluded.
(Home One: Same time)
Luke went over his X-Wing with a fine toothed comb. It wasn't that he didn't trust the mechanics. It was that he nothing else to keep his mind occupied. The events of the last few weeks, coupled with the brazen attack about to happen have him on edge and his nerves frayed. As Luke considered the meeting onboard the Infinity, he found himself circling back to the near-fatal confrontation with Vader on Bespin.
"This shouldn't be too surprising," he finally muttered to himself.
After all, Darth Vader had made it clear that he sought to take the Emperor's place. Of course that had been a lie, hadn't it? He was playing on Luke's emotions to try controlling him, again. Then again, this was his father- a legendary war hero and once powerful Jedi.
"Blast it, Ben! Why didn't you tell me?" Luke snapped.
The exclamation was followed by a metallic thunk as he smacked the side of his X-Wing with his robotic hand. Luke took a calming breath and put aside his feelings. At the same time, he waved away the small handful of crewmen who had heard his outburst. Now was not the time to wrestle with the past. With his thoughts brought back into the present, he joined R2 in checking the S-foils. A few minutes later, a familiar voice broke his focus.
"Hey, Luke," Leia called out.
Luke pocketed his tool and spun around.
He waited until she was closer before asking, "How're you doing?"
"About as well as you, considering what the deck officer told me," she answered with a shrug.
Luke didn't immediately respond as his eyes drifted across her uniform. After taking in the heavy black vest, shin guards, armored gloves, and helmet; they settled on the blaster rifle in her hands.
"So, you're leading one of the teams?" Luke inquired.
"I'm certainly not going to sit on my hands while everyone else fights," Leia declared.
The fire in her eyes made it clear that she had already had this argument with one or more people in the command staff.
"What do you think of Vader's fleet joining the rebellion?" Luke asked.
"Officially, I think this is the opportunity of a lifetime. His fleet could provide some badly needed firepower to the fleet," Leia carefully answered, "Unofficially, I think he is playing us. There is no family. There is no revenge plot. He's found the Emperor's weakness and is making a simple power grab. After the Emperor is finished, so is our truce."
Luke winced at her declaration. There was so much passion and determination that he doubted Leia would believe him if he ever did tell her the truth.
"We'll see about that. As long as the other two factions are involved, I don't think Vader will try anything," Luke offered.
Leia looked at him curiously, "How do you always see the good in situations? Why do you have so much hope in this truce?" she asked.
Luke thought for a moment before replying. "I'm all for destroying the Empire but what would happen after we beat them? There would always be a remnant that would remain loyal to the ideals of the Empire and the Emperor. What would we do about them?
"With this truce standing, it shows that we can have peace with the Imperials. We can build trust with this truce, trust that can allow us to have a seamless transition of power to a democratic Senate."
Leia nodded, "If only things were so simple."
"All crew, general quarters… All crew, general quarters," boomed a voice over the intercom.
Luke let out an annoyed sigh at the interruption.
"Alright, I'll see you on the other side," he announced.
Unsure of what to say, she offered, "May the Force be with you."
His response went unheard as she took off across chaotic bay. Her destination was the next hanger over. There, alliance soldiers were already filling the docked U-Wing dropships. As she found her ship, she mentally rehearsed the plan. It was an insane one to say the least. Their U-Wings would link up with UNSC dropships, Lambda-Class shuttles, and a flight of Clone Wars-era gunships. X-Wings and Broadswords would escort the entire group past the Imperial guns and to the storage docks.
This would all happen while the main fleet moved to engage the rest of the station's defenses. The goal was to take the station intact. Whether that was possible or not was still a source of considerable debate among the Alliance commanders.
She shook that debate from her head as she boarded her designated craft. Behind her followed four others, Chewbacca, a Rodian and two humans. A Twi'lek and Bothan followed a few seconds later. All of them were in zero-G combat suits like Leia. More Alliance troops filled the ship. By the time the intercom announced their breakout from hyperspace, she was sharing a deployment bay with twelve Alliance troops.
The engines screamed as they came to life. The noise was first dampened by Leia's helmet and then the side walls of the deployment bay as both doors hissed shut.
"Commander, this is Admiral Ackbar. Vader was right about them waiting for us. Shields and weapons are active," announced a voice Leia's helmet.
"We knew of that possibility. Nothing has changed," Leia declared.
She shook her head. Admiral Ackbar was good but far too cautious for her tastes.
∫∆πµπ∆∫
The first thing that Spartan Locke saw when he exited the dropship was red blaster bolts and white armor of Stormtroopers coming their way. His shields flared as bolt after bolt crashed into his armor. Over the chaos, he could hear the loud warble of another dropship entering the hanger.
"Get to the wall," barked a voice in his helmet.
With shields rapidly draining and little cover around them, Fire team Osiris didn't have to be told twice. He motioned the rest of his team to the right as he found another target. His battle rifle bucked as trooper after trooper dropped. He hit the wall and mentally counted off each person as they stacked up behind the crates and bulkhead.
"We're clear," he reported.
By this time the Pelican that had delivered them was replaced with two LAAT gunships, one in the hanger, and one waiting just outside the atmospheric barrier. The pre-mission briefing told him all he needed to know about the ship. It was old, but effective. This was proven when it swooped in with turrets blazing. The scream of its twin blasters was soon drowned out by the sound of exploding missiles. Fire consumed the back wall, as white armored troopers were thrown in every direction.
As the craft fell silent, Locke waved his team forward. The clock was ticking and they still had two decks to fight through. In the dense smoke, Locke tallied over a dozen bodies. Chatter over the team channel told him there was at least a company killed in the barrage from the old LAAT.
From what he read in the files that Roland had given all UNSC personnel with clearance, the LAAT and its variants was used in the Clone Wars and a short time after before it was retired in favor of the Lambda-class shuttle and its variants.
It seemed that not only did Vader seem to be reverting to the old proven vehicles, he was also developing a new suit of armor for his 501st legion. If this was to bear fruit or not had yet to be seen, but Locke heard that they might be taking the old clone trooper armor phases and combining them into a new suit that would apparently outstrip the current Stormtrooper armor. Unfortunately, the armor was still in development, with Commander Appo having the only finished suit.
He pushed those thoughts from his head, as he led his team through the corridors. For the Spartan team, the push to the command deck was more tedious than it was dangerous. The defenders had clearly expected their arrival, and set up defenses at every choke point. However, they were poorly manned and fell back at the smallest provocation. Something wasn't right.
The small arms fire was deafening. Locke pulled the pin on a grenade as he ducked behind backside of a durasteel barrier. He counted to three and tossed it over the top.
BANG!
He looked over the top to see a black scorch mark where there had been a couple Stormtroopers. Looking through his sites, he saw two troopers attempting to cover the rest of the squad's retreat. He fired three shots at one, but the trooper's partner ducked around the corner before he could adjust his aim. The rest of the team vaulted the series of barriers in an attempt to keep up the momentum. By this point, they were closing in on lift for the command deck.
"Wait," he commanded.
His order was lost in the chaos. With a muttered curse, the Spartan leader took off after his team.
"Fireteam Osiris, fall back!" he bellowed again.
The other Spartans froze mid-step before retreating back to their squad leader. If he was ordering them to wait, then something was clearly up.
"What is it?" Vale demanded.
"The Imperials are up to something," Locke hastily explained, "These firefights are ending way to quick."
"We're Spartans, I'd be worried if these fights weren't ending quickly," Buck countered.
"Where are the auto turrets? Where is the endless supply of white armored fanatics we heard about in the briefing? Hell, where are the heavy blast doors? Tanaka's carrying enough explosives to cripple the Infinity, yet she's had to use none of them," Locked argued.
"You think there's a trap?" Vale quizzed.
Locke nodded.
"So, what do we do?" Tanaka quizzed, "We're on a timeline and right outside the doors of the lift to the bridge."
"First is spring the trap. Buck, Tanaka. Breach the doors. Vale, you and I will clear the room. I have a feeling we will need those explosives intact very soon."
His fire team nodded and got to work. Unlike the other doors they breached, however, the doors to the room containing the lift were sealed tight. Tanaka led the way to the doors with a couple charges in hand. Her hands were a blur of motion as she set the charges against the door and armed them. Once satisfied that everything was set, Tanaka and Buck fell back into formation with the rest of the team.
Tanaka pulled out the detonator and looked at Locke expectantly. He nodded and the doors flew inward with a flash of white. The sheet of durasteel was followed in by one of Vale's frag grenades. The blast was still ringing in the air as Osiris stormed in. They were greeted with a hail of blaster bolts, making their shields flare in response. The Spartan IVs dove for the cover of the lift control board, trying to keep their shields from failing.
The defenders were instantly on them. Vibroblades mixed with blasters as they rushed the Spartans. As they approached the strangely armored warriors. However, they soon realized that they were outmatched when the first few troopers went down in a hail of bullets. Armor cracked and faceplates shattered as the few survivors vaulted the control station, trying in vain to stop the elite soldiers from gaining control of the station and the ship. Within seconds the fight was over. Scattered across the room were the bodies of the dozen defenders that had been killed.
The room fell into an eerie silence as the Fireteam prepared to deal with the next obstacle. Suddenly a blaster shot screamed out. The bolt slammed into Buck's head. His shield absorbed the assault and everyone spun around to the source. There, in the center of everyone's sites was a Stormtrooper… a broken, dying Stormtrooper. On his shoulder was an orange pauldron painted red with blood. That same blood poured out from a shattered faceplate. His leg was obviously broken, and he could barely find the strength to hold his blaster, let alone pull the trigger again.
"Drop it," Locke ordered.
"Or what? I'm already dying," the trooper shot back with a blood filled cough.
That's when they heard it. The high pitched whine cut through the room. The blaster had only been to get their attention. It was one last stroke of ego before the trooper completed his final act.
"Grenade!" Vale yelled.
The fire team threw themselves against the far wall.
BOOM!
There was a difference between being told about something and experiencing it firsthand. Locke was reminded of this as the thermal detonator shattered his shields. The briefings had told him about the thermal detonator's concussive blast so he knew the about the blistering heat, and had memorized the kill radius for that weapon.
However, that all paled in comparison to actually experiencing the blast. Alarms screamed in his ringing ears as fire seared his skin. The flash of light instantly polarized his helmet, but it was not enough. The light blinded his eyes, even through the tinted visor. It was an ugly experience unlike any he had felt before. He felt tears in his eyes, his body responding to the burning sensation that his eyes and body were feeling. He blinked rapidly, trying to make his eyesight return. Yet it stubbornly refused to do so. Responding to years of training, Locke staggered. Blinded or not, he needed to move.
However, it was for nothing. As his vision cleared, he was greeted with nothing more than a scorched room. The trooper responsible, well… he was reduced to scattered pieces of ash and charred bone the size of a Magnum shell. The silver walls had been painted with black streaks, and pieces of the control board were scattered all across the room.
"Is everyone ok?" He called.
The Spartan's first priority was his team.
"I'm ok," Vale answered between coughs.
"I'm good," Tanaka declared.
"All good, but that was one hell of a grenade," Buck spoke up.
Locke nodded. There was no denying Buck's statement. That explosions was much more powerful than the grenades the team was used to dealing with. As everyone collected themselves, Tanaka looked over the control board. It was clearly destroyed. That meant they got to do things the hard way.
"I'm glad we brought jump packs, because that's the only way we're going up," she announced.
Nods and muttered agreements rippled through the team as they waited for their shields to recharge. Locke noted with some worry that his were abnormally slow to come up.
"Be careful. Our shields took a lot of abuse in that blast," he warned as he and Tanaka pried open the door to the lift.
"No kidding," Buck agreed as he led the way into the damaged lift, "My shields just now came back up."
The team made short work of the thin, metal ceiling and were soon standing up on top of the lift. Jump packs fired and they were soon on the Command deck. The Command deck was a room filled by rows of control consoles and black screens. The tension was thick as the Spartans spread out. Seconds stretched into minutes as the team verified what they already knew. The room was empty.
"What the hell is going on?" Buck demanded.
Locke shrugged as he approached the command console. He tapped a few keys and was rewarded with the welcome sight of Roland.
"Roland, what exactly is going on?" Locke demanded, "We hit solid resistance in one place, and that seems to have been for nothing."
"Hold on. I'm…" Roland frowned as he trailed off.
Locke was opened his mouth just in time for Roland's eyes to turn into saucers.
"I can bring the system online but it's going to take time we don't have. Along the right is a large panel. Open the door and start turning the levers," Roland commanded, "That's the manual release for the boarding clamps. This entire section is flooding with troopers as we speak."
Vale adjusted her stride mid step and ran for the panel. A couple seconds later, Roland's figure was joined by that of another figure. This figure was a blue skinned humanoid with piercing red eyes and dressed in a bleach white uniform with decorative golden fabric on the shoulders, signifying the alien as a high-ranking officer.
"Gentlemen…" the being started with a refined purr, "I must say the appearance of a fleet this big was unexpected. However, this is still my battlefield. The pieces are in place and I would like to personally welcome you to the hell of my creation."
∫∆πµπ∆∫
Leia's blood ran cold as she watched the broadcast. Of all of the Admirals to appear, it had to be Grand Admiral Thrawn.
"Of course it's Thrawn, only the most skilled commanders would be satisfactory for Vader," whispered a voice in her head.
The hologram winked out of existence. Leia turned shook the paranoid thoughts from her head and turned to her work. Starting this thing wasn't exactly like starting a fighter. There were many things that had to happen in a very specific order all across the bridge. With only five people on a bridge built for five times that number, there was a lot of controlled chaos as people sprinted from station to station.
"Commander, twelve star destroyers just entered the system on top of us!" gasped one of the commandos as he pointed out the viewport.
Leia cursed as she picked her way around the dead Stormtroopers and flipped two switches on the navigation console. After that, she opened the team channel.
"Bridge to engineering. How long until the reactor is spun up?" She demanded.
"Thirty seconds and you'll be able to pull off the dock under your own power. Ninety and we can-"
The Alliance soldier was cut off by the sound of explosions. The deck shuddered as muffled blasts rumbled like thunder. Leia grabbed the bulkhead to steady herself.
"What happened?" she demanded to no one in particular.
"That- That was the hyperdrive," answered a voice over the comm between violent coughs, "They must have rigged it with explosives prior to our takeover."
"Remember, the first, and most important, priority is keeping the hyperdrive stable. If that goes critical…" echoed a voice in her memory.
"Lock down the hyperdrive and start pumping in coolant. With this little reactor output we should be fine. However, I don't want to take any chances," she ordered.
"Yes ma'am", answered three different people at once.
As the channel went dead, the bridge sprang into action.
(UNSC Infinity: Ops Center)
Commander Palmer mentally dissected the scene as she listened to the reports coming in. This "Grand Admiral", as Piett had labelled him, had just put the fleet in an interesting position. By waiting until all of the boarding troops were on board and committed to the fight, he had ensured that the fleet couldn't remove its gloves and blow the entire Imperial system to hell. However, he couldn't exactly expel them from the system either. Neither side now held the capability to strike a decisive blow unless they played their cards just right. With stable supply lines, the Admiral could continue the battle almost indefinitely this way.
That's where she came in. Along with the rest of the infantry commanders, they had to find a way to take the station before Thrawn could add even more troops to the battle. However, first, she had to keep her Spartan teams from being completely overwhelmed.
"Commander, we have a second problem. Multiple Imperial craft are breaking for the Venators. It looks like they want their ships back intact," the A.I. announced.
"And we have a solution," the Commander declared, "Tell Commander Appo and General Graven that they aren't getting those Spartans. They'll have to make do with Marines and Sword infantry. Tell all teams to fall back to the ships."
"So, they're just gonna jump through the front viewports?" Roland asked skeptically.
"They've got zero-g suits, jump packs and magnetic boots. Not to mention, those ships are just now starting to move. They'll make it," Commander Palmer argued.
"That doesn't fix the attrition problem," he pointed out.
"You let me deal with that problem," Palmer ordered.
"Yes ma'am."
With that, Roland disappeared. As crazy as he thought this was, it was far less insane than some plans he had seen work.
∫∆πµπ∆∫
"You know this whole plan is nuts, right?" yelled an Alliance soldier between blaster shots.
His partner simply grunted as he slapped the pressure-release on his own repeating blaster. The weapon hissed as superheated steam gushed out.
"Someone's gotta do the dirty work," added in the squad leader as he tossed a grenade down the passage.
There was an ear splitting explosion.
"Let's go! Let's go!" yelled the captain in charge.
The soldiers sprinted out of cover. Shots were traded across a distance of mere feet, and bodies began to drop instantly. The squad leader instantly went down with two holes in his chest. The Stormtrooper responsible was quickly shot down by another trooper, who was then cut open by the vibroblade of a waiting Stormtrooper. Smoke choked the hallway as the Alliance troops fought their way over and around the barricades. Unlike the forces encountered by the Spartan IVs, these troopers had explicit orders to stand their ground at all costs, and it showed.
After ten minutes of fighting, they had been able to force the Stormtroopers back to a more manageable distance. However, the Captain could see more reinforcements rushing in. He muttered a curse and continued firing. One trooper went down followed by his partner and one on the other side. Another grenade sent fire and limbs fly.
"This is Eagle 1 to base. We're at our breaking point. Where's that Spartan team at?" he demanded over the command channel.
"This is base to Eagle 1. They've been re-tasked," Roland answered clinically.
"Retasked!? What the hell do you mean retasked? This entire plan counted on them," the Captain exclaimed.
"No, you counted on them," Roland shot back, "We said reinforcements would come back you up, and that there was a good chance that those reinforcements would involve as Spartan team. Your reinforcements are about five minutes out. Standby."
The line went dead, leaving the soldiers to try to stay alive until reinforcements arrived.
"We're on our own for now!" the Captain announced, "Let's teach the Imps what it means to mess with the Rebellion!"
And so, they fought. Seconds stretched into eternity as superheated light flooded the space. For the next five minutes, there was nothing to be heard but the sound of blaster fire and grenade blasts. With each volley, men and women dropped. One both sides, they died three and four at a time. Yet, neither side would break.
The Captain shielded his face as an explosion showered him a shrapnel. Looking up, he saw what was left of the man next to him. His body was mangled and his blaster had been thrown down the passage by the shockwave. The Captain flushed the sight from his head as he re-leveled his blaster. He shot down two white armored Stormtroopers as the blast doors hissed open.
More troops poured in. However, these ones were different. They stood about two inches above everyone else and had black suits. Most carried compact blaster rifles and blaster pistols. However, a few carried heavy repeating blasters. The captain immediately recognized them as the Tarkin Project's most successful developments.
"Captain, they've got Death Troopers!" shouted a rebel soldier over the comm.
"Keep firing!" he barked, "They'll die all the same."
The order wasn't much, but it's all the Captain could order. They couldn't advance due to a lack of manpower, and they couldn't retreat without compromising the entire right flank of the incursion. The blaster fire gained a new intensity as the heavy blasters came alive. In the face of this wall, nearly all rebel blaster fire came to a stop. It didn't happen all at once. It happened, slowly as trooper after trooper began dropping at a steady rate. The survivors had no choice but to duck behind cover or risk a similar fate.
Then through the deafening blaster fire, the Captain heard the faintest of metallic pings. His eyes widened as he saw the grenade bounce off the wall. The captain covered his face as he dove away. Though, he never heard the blast. His vision turned white and the shockwave instantly crushed him against the bulkhead. His blaster melted in his hands, while his body was reduced to atoms. That same superheated shockwave cut through armor and skin as it tore an irreparable hole in the Rebel line. Yet this was not the end.
The Imperials rushed the hole. Lead by the Death Troopers, a tidal wave of Imperial soldiers vaulted over their barricades with blasters ablaze. In the confusion, the rebel line shattered. With most of the officers dead, and no reinforcements, the rebels had no direction and began to fall back two and three at a time. Whether or not these men qualified as deserters would be a question abandoned to history.
For in that moment, the ground began to shake. The blast door at the back of the line hissed open. Shots of green plasma cut through the room. Both the Imperials and rebels skipped a beat as the two Mgalekgolo burst into the passageway. Stormtroopers not immediately blown up or crushed beyond recognition by the duo were shot down by the flood of Sangheili and Unggoy that followed in after them.
"Why do we have to go first?" one of the Grunts complained as he shot one of the remaining Stormtroopers.
"Keep moving," a Sangheili in red armor commanded the smaller Unggoy before turning to the remaining rebels, "Come. This is not a place to die."
∫∆πµπ∆∫
Commander Appo listened eagerly to the report coming through the transmitter. The voice was the deep bass tone of a Sangheili officer. Even through the distorted audio, his voice was a commanding one.
"...We were able to relieve the pressure on rebel lines along the cross passage. Advances are being made along passages Alpha-1 and Alpha-2. However, the Imperials are starting to solidify their lines. Further advancement will be a difficult endeavor. We do not have the Mgalekgolo to continue using them as we have. The Stormtroopers are growing wise to their weaknesses," the red armored alien explained.
Commander Appo nodded as he examined the map at his waist. With General Veers pushing out in the opposite direction that gave them seven square miles of secured territory. It wasn't as much as Appo wanted, but it was a foothold.
"The fleet has begun running supply sorties into the secured bays. However, the arrival of Thrawn's fleet is making that endeavor dangerous at best," General Veers added, "Supplies will be slow to reach the front."
"What about the Venators?" Appo quizzed.
"The ships are attempting to pull off under their own power," Commander Palmer explained, "We are implementing a plan to get them some cover."
Commander Appo nodded. Now he had all of the pieces. However, before he could speak, General Veers turned to him.
"Commander, link with the Swords. Then start your push for central control. I'll link with the UNSC forces and continue my push counter-orbit," General Veers ordered.
He continued to lay out a broad plan for how they should best proceed with the mission. In short, rebel and Sangheili spec ops teams would move ahead of the main force and secure vital junctions and other areas, and hold out until the main force linked with them soon after. It was risky, but when coupled with two aggressive advances, should keep them from bogging down.
One of the teams mentioned was Blue Team. They had been dropped into the station during the start of the battle. While no one outside of Admiral Hood and Captain Lasky knew of the team's exact orders, comm intercepts suggested that they were causing some serious hell within the station. It was because of this knowledge that Commander Appo readily nodded in agreement.
"Yes sir. The men have regrouped. We'll move out immediately," he answered crisply.
The meeting came to a rapid end without any other major developments. This left him alone with an empty, repurposed room and his racing thoughts. Emotions of all variety swelled up in the veteran commander. He had engaged in this kind of battle once before. It was long ago in the Clone Wars. However, its horrific lessons had been burned in his head, along with the truths unknowingly dug up in the process.
"Tup! No!" yelled out a clone.
"He just snapped… shot the jedi dead on the spot," added another, quieter clone voice.
The Commander shook his head free of the memories. He violently crushed the associated emotions and snatched up his blaster. That war was over. Now, he had to focus on winning this one.
(ISD Executor)
Admiral Piett listened with growing frustration as the reports came in. Up to this point, the fleet had been keeping its distance so as to not destroy the station. However, with the arrival of Thrawn's fleet, that wasn't an option. The extra TIE fighters and bombers were having a field day with their supply craft, while enemy star destroyers had engulfed the ships they were trying to steal.
He turned to the board and mapped out his next move. The Arbiter and Hood had discussed a plan for for fixing any overwhelming complications they could run into. The backup plan had Death Squadron and a portion of the UNSC fleet, mainly frigates and cruisers, jumping in system to flank any reinforcements that dropped in on the Rebel fleet and the troop transports. Death squadron would punch a hole in the fleet, spearheaded by the Executor herself, allowing the UNSC fleet to flood the hole while engaging the defenseless backside of the enemy fleet, either damaging the engines or outright destroying the ships.
This change in the Imperial lines would force the joint fleet to directly engage in naval combat with the defenders, a less than optimal move. There was still one operational defense station, as well as the light, medium, and heavy guns that dotted the station itself. Added to this, was the concentrated fire from the fleet and enough fighters to blot out the sun.
The Admiral let out a sigh. There was no use delaying the inevitable. He tapped two keys on the holotable and was rewarded with an image of the Arbiter.
"We are beginning our redeployment," He began without preamble.
"Our ships simply await your movement, Fleetmaster," the Arbiter confirmed.
"And what of Admiral Hood's fleet?" Piett followed up.
"They are already moving," he confirmed.
"Good."
With that the Arbiter disappeared. Piett turned away from the board and began issuing orders.
"All ahead, full power. Bring us ninety degrees to port," Admiral Piett barked before turning to the comm station, "Tell the rest of the squadron to form up."
This was followed by a string of further orders, as Piett ironed out the wrinkles in their plan. Underneath his collected exterior, Piett was nervous. He was spreading his ships dangerously thin in this engagement. It would give them the best deployment pattern. However, it required the fleet to step into the station's pre-sighted kill zone. Here the fire from the Imperial station and supporting craft would be most intense. Because of this, one mistake could allow an admiral of Thrawn's caliber could begin isolating various warships and picking them off.
∫∆πµπ∆∫
Luke jerked the control yoke back. In front of him, an Imperial shuttle exploded into several pieces. His eyes darted across the view port as he ducked and weaved between blaster bolts. He found another shuttle on final approach for Resolute's blasted open main hanger. Luke switched weapons. The chance was too good to pass up. His targeting computer chimed right as the Imperial craft landed on the Imperial occupied hanger. He squeezed the trigger. A pair of purple orbs shot out of his craft. Seconds later the shuttle exploded into a ball of fire as the two proton torpedoes slammed into its engines. Luke thumbed the weapon selector back to his primary wing-tip cannons and circled around. He considered strafing the deck for good measure. However, he had a different mission.
"Rogue squadron, form up on me. We've got a group of frigates moving in to cover the Venators' retreat. We're to link with Blue and Black squadrons. All three squadrons are to help keep the TIEs off them," Luke hastily explained.
"Gotcha boss," Wedge called over the comm, "Making our way over to you,"
Luke was about to reply when the words died in his throat. In front of him was two entire squadrons of TIE defenders. Luke jerked up on his stick to the side, making his fighter turn around and straighten out. He kicked his engines up to full acceleration and tried to make it to Blue and Black squadrons before he was torn to shreds.
However, it was no good. The TIE defenders had an overwhelming speed advantage on his used and battle fatigued X-Wing. Within seconds streaks of green and black were whipping past his viewport. Each moment was a struggle as he fought the blaster bolts for control of his fighter. Luke rolled left and right before pulling the yoke back and right. He noted the response from the X-Wing was sluggish as he pulled out of the swarm.
"Luke are you alright?" demanded Vader over the comm channel.
"A little cooked but alright," Luke answered as he scanned his various sensors and gages.
"A little cooked" was putting it mildly. Luke silenced two alarms as he assessed the damage. His upper left engine had taken a serious beating. It was pulsating in power output, and messing with the steering. His long range sensor suite was reduced to a smoldering hole, and his right stabilizer was loose.
"R2, the right stabilizer is loose, try to lock it down." Luke told the old astromech, receiving an affirmative beep in response.
"Commander Skywalker, I recommend turning back to the Home One. I think your ship took more damage than you realize," cut in a third voice.
"Negative. We're coming up on the frigates," Luke answered back before switching frequencies, "Rogue squadron, form up in attack position. We're engaging the lead pack of bombers."
As he made his order, his screen filled with enemy squadrons. In his ears he heard the chatter of the other squadrons selecting targets and falling into position. He pushed his throttle back up to full power, and charged into the attacking TIE fighters. His target was right behind two flights of standard TIE fighters. They were the lead bombers in this attack. If they got through, there was no telling how much damage they could do to the lightly armored frigates.
"This is the UNSC Crimson. We're approaching the drop point," announced a voice over the channel.
"Copy Crimson. Black, Blue, and Rogue squadrons are coming up for escort." Blue leader replied before the line went dead.
Luke was just about to swing around to join them when he felt, more than heard, his fighter get hit. R2 squealed in fright, trying desperately to make sure his pilot knew the danger. But it was for naught. The fighter shook violently under the abuse. Luke dumped all power into his shields as he tried to get out of the TIE's gun sights. He rolled left and cut the engines. The fighter streaked past and right into Luke's own sights. He squeezed the trigger and watched as his lasers cut apart the enemy fighter.
However, his wingman had gone unseen. Power came back to Luke's engines just in time for the second TIE to reveal itself. A stream of green lasers sliced through his battered left side. The damaged engine was soon engulfed in flames. Another burst of fire made short work of the wing tip cannons on his right side and further damaged the engines. Luke pulled up as a second explosion rocked his ship. Through the corner of his eye, he saw Vader's ship go streaking through the TIE's debris field.
Alarms screamed and this time there was no silencing them. Luke read the display with increasing worry.
Cannon 1: Offline
Cannon 2: Offline
Cannon 3: damaged
Cannon 4: Operational
Port Stabilizer: Critical
Starboard Stabilizer: Damaged
Engine 1: Offline
Engine 2: Lower line fuel leak
Engine 3: Heat levels critical
Engine 4: Operational
R2's panicked whistles summarized what Luke already knew. This fight was over for him. All he could do was limp back to the nearest friendly ship and hope that he wouldn't get blown to bits by an overzealous pilot hoping to get another kill.
Luke gave R2 a string of orders to stop the bleeding as he scanned the surrounding space. That's when he saw it. The UNSC Hellbred stood out against the black ink of space like a beacon. Not wasting any time, Luke hastily opened the main channel to the ship.
"This is Rogue 1 to Hellbred, requesting permission for an emergency landing. My fighter's been critically damaged," he requested, "I'm transmitting my ship's last status readout."
As much as he tried to hide it, there was no missing the panic in Luke's voice. The officer on the other end must have seen the report as he was equally urgent in his reply.
"Proceed to hanger 1 for immediate landing. Emergency crews are standing by," he quickly ordered.
There was a chirp from his navigation screen. He tapped a button and was rewarded with a waypoint marker for the hanger in question.
"Copy that. Rogue 1, in bound," Luke acknowledged before switching his attention to R2, "Widen out the sensors as far as you can. We can't be ambushed like that again."
R2 gave an affirmative, even if a tad nervous, whistle in response. The flight back rapidly increased in difficulty as the ship began falling apart. R2 and Luke both did the best they could, but this was still an active warzone. Lasers of all kind streaked past his X-Wing. Fighters constantly buzzed him, and more than one TIE fighter had to be run off by its friendly counterpart.
Luke gritted his teeth as he was forced to silence one alarm after another. His fighter bobbled as both stabilizers threatened to finish coming apart. His shields finished giving out under the abuse of one ship's heavy turbolasers. However, it was going to be ok. His ship was in one piece, he was conscious, and he had some control over his fighter. He had seen people survive worse… at least that's what he told himself as he came in for final approach.
"R2. That output valve is sticking again. I need less power," Luke called out.
"Rogue 1, you're coming in extremely hot. I recommend you cut a lot of speed," cut in a worried flight control officer.
"Working on it," Luke muttered through gritted teeth.
The fighter shuttered as R2 and Luke both fought to slow the fighter.
"Commander Skywalker-"
Luke punched the mute button and went to work. His eyes darted between the viewport and the various switches around him. He adjusted his course before adjusting two more knobs. He pressed two buttons and pulled back on the throttle lever. It didn't work. He was streaking through the vacuum of space with no way to slow himself down.
Luke suggested completely killing the engines. R2 quickly pointed out that with no source of resistance, the fighter would simply continue to accelerate. Panic began to set in as the open hanger flooded his viewport. There was one last option. Either it would kill them, or do the trick.
"R2, deactivate the blow out safeties," Luke ordered.
The X-Wing ran on highly flammable fuel. As a result, the fuel system had a high pressure system to blow fuel out of a certain line should a fire start. The idea was to deprive any fire of fuel and thus extinguish it. That system was the only reason his fighter hadn't been destroyed when the left engine went down. So, by sealing the line, the air would have nowhere to go. All of the fuel would be slammed up against the stuck valve, and he should be able to reverse the thrusters; or the fuel / air mix would punch through the weakened metal and finish destroying his engines.
R2 whistled a confirmation two seconds later when it was done. Luke nodded and flipped two switches. The lines sealed, and he punched the blowout button. There was small pop followed by an ear splitting crack. The engines changed pitch and his body slammed against his straps. He looked at the readout through dazed eyes.
The thrusters had finally reversed. His speed was dropping 40 and 50 kilometers per second. Now all he had to do was steer the bucking fighter. With most of his sensors damaged, Luke reached out in the force. He felt the ship, and then the deckhands. Their elevated worry marked their exact positions. Luke felt the subtle movements of his own fighter. With eyes only half open, he adjusted accordingly. The ship hit the deck and everything went black.