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CENN Ragnarok, Task Force 5, Stationed on the Surface of Ro-loo, Carnificial Causeway
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"If there is one thing I appreciated about the last war," Justin Mallory groused as he signed another requisition order. "It was that I didn't have to do paperwork."
Luca Romano, his first officer, smirked as he glanced up from the Ipad in his hand. "Spoken like a true ground pounder. I'd rather be bored filing reports no one's ever going to bother reading. Beats catching ET phaser bolts from the white-hats any day of the week."
"Spoken like a true ex-Navy Uber driver." Mallory threw back with a grin. That smile vanished though as he felt a cramp developing in his left arm. He stretched, only to bang his arm into the wall next to his desk. Mallory grimaced. The Ragnarok's operations room, the captain's personal office, was a glorified walk-in closet, with barely enough space for the desk and chairs that were bolted into the floor, let alone space for actual people.
Over the years, Mallory had been compared to Captain Kirk by idiot celebrities and know-nothing politicians enough times that he had finally caved in and watched a few episodes of Star Trek. Just to see what he was being compared to. The one thing that had struck him about that show was the sheer amount of space the crew of the Enterprise had to move about in. Every ship in the fictional Starfleet seemed nice and roomy. Hell, the bald captain, turned Professor X, on The Next Generation had enough space in his office for a couch, a big window and a fish tank! It was certainly a far cry from the cramped conditions of the ships of the Confederate Space Force and the dull, windowless, stark white office in which Captain Mallory found himself situated.
It seemed, Mallory thought, that the Confederacy had taken more inspiration from Heinlein than Roddenberry. Or, at the least, Verhoeven's interpretation of Heinlein.
Romano put his hand on his chest, feigning insult at Mallory's last remark. "We're both glorified Uber drivers now, Captain, if you listen to the Legionnaires."
"Goddamned Tin Men." Mallory muttered, referring to a common, derogatory nickname for the supposed elite of the Confederate military. Calling a Legionnaire as such was asking for a fight. They were raised on straight Confederate propaganda and loathed being referred to as anything from a movie. Movies were things meant for civilians, weak 3rd and 4th class citizens, the Legionnaires believed. Something to view with suspicion and mistrust. His old Ranger Sergeant, Cortez, had been one of the ones who had trained the first class of Legionnaires after the Earth-Empire War, and while they were tough and ruthless as all hell, they had the subtlety and intelligence of a brick. Army Rangers had known how to get the job done right, Mallory believed. Legionnaires had a bad habit of blundering through a mission with lots of collateral damage. A failed plan only needed more bodies thrown at it, they believed. And that tended to exacerbate problems in the long term. "Did you hear about that stunt they pulled last night?"
Romano shrugged and shook his head. "I've been too busy trying to get the Quartermaster aboard the Cameron to get me those proton torpedoes we need for the restock."
Mallory sighed. The Ragnarok had been stationed on the planet Ro-loo for twelve days now, undergoing refit and rearmament after expending most of their ordinance and enduring some minor battle damage in the battle to secure the Kelshan System rimward of Ro-loo.
Ro-loo had been a cakewalk for Space Force, with only a handful of Imperial vessels that once again escaped one step ahead of the Space Force. The planet's orbital space had been cleared of enemy warships for the time being, but the Confederate Army was still working to fully pacify and secure the planet's surface and the multitude of moons in its orbit. It was a difficult operation. Ro-loo was a world of large, sparkling shallow oceans peppered with numerous island chains and a few larger land masses that would probably make for a popular tourist destination after the war. Though not very deep, the oceans of Ro-loo averaged a depth that was merely waist deep on a man. There were areas that barely plunged to fifteen meters while vast swaths were merely ankle deep. An AMP 5 could walk across the entire thing and never get its cockpit wet. The sweltering world was something akin to a massive swimming pool, mixed with a pre-Earth-Empire War Caribbean beach resort.
Space Force had stranded the largest of its task forces on Ro-loo and Protivos in the Eastern Hyperspace route, while Admiral Akfar took his most powerful ships ahead and secured a forward base at Kafrene Outpost. They had no other choice. Space Force was out of gas.
The campaign was originally designed to follow a straight forward path down the Bloodstripe Run, but instead they had run back and forth, chasing every sighting of the Imperial Navy and occupying every scrap of space dust they came across. Legions slated for planets much further coreward down the super hyper-route had been diverted to occupations of worlds that housed only a handful of inhabitants and tied them down in anti-partisan warfare that left quagmires on every world in the fleet's rear. Magnificent transports converted into fuel haulers were systems behind the fleet supporting ground operations and colossal building efforts. It had taken three months to occur but the forward momentum of Space Force had inevitably withered on the vine.
Admiral Akfar, and perhaps the President himself, had realized the futility of continuing the initial drive without the aid of a large forward operating base. Kafrene Outpost had been chosen. It bordered the entrance to the Kuat Spur on the rimward side and from there High Command hoped to bottle up the Imperial Navy before continuing down the Bloodstripe once their supply train caught up again. Estimates from Mallory's fellow Corvette Captains figured the advance would continue once more in three or four months. Mallory was just happy he wouldn't spend the intervening time guarding Kafrene Outpost. It was a world of frozen, kilometer-deep glaciers and obsidian mountains, where the first construction crews were starting to blast bases, docking facilities and supply depots out of their rock hard edifices.
Kafrene Outpost's Boosodian and Talz colonists had fled well before the Confederate invasion. Mallory wished Ro-loo had been such a cake walk, as well.
According to the reports, most of the Ro-loo's alien population had been evacuated with the help of a Jedi, but a small number had been left behind. Mallory had wondered if he had just missed a chance to again meet the beautiful Dathomir, Tenel Hja, but the reports indicated that the Jedi in question was some blue, serpentine creature, which had inflicted heavy casualties on the Confederate landing forces. The Ragnarok was currently waylaid in the planet's main spaceport in the small beach town of Utegetu, on the same large island as the capital Witchwrist, which had been quickly secured and reconfigured by the Confederate Corps of Engineers into a serviceable dry-dock and beach-side repair station. This section of the planet was considered secure by the intelligence analysts. But someone hadn't told the Legionnaires that.
"Last night a squad of Legionnaires went into the town south of here and started harassing the remaining locals." Mallory explained. He leaned back in his chair and massaged his temples.
Romano leaned forward. "Weren't they supposed to be guarding the spaceport? Protecting the workers constructing the hypermatter storage tanks? Protecting us?" He asked.
"The Major in charge of the local battalion claims he had suspicions that the native Ahia-Ko were up to something and that a recon squad wouldn't be missed for guard duty." Mallory explained. "So they went off into town and started breaking down doors in search of weapons or signs of a resistance movement."
"The PP's can't have been happy about that." Romano observed, referring to the Space Force Military Planet Police assigned to occupy the town itself.
"Apparently they weren't." Mallory said. "But the Legionnaires threatened to have the PP's sent to a penal legion of 4th classers for 'obstructing a legitimate search and destroy mission' or some garbage like that."
"What's the over-under on the damage?" Romano asked.
"Two aliens dead, five badly beaten, about twelve arrests, and not a single weapon found." Mallory said perfunctorily.
Romano winced, but nodded. "Seems like the end of a typical Legionnaire mission. Still doesn't make up for the forty-nine friendly fire KIAs those overeager bastards incurred just landing on this world. Gits have the itchiest trigger fingers in the galaxy."
Mallory sighed again and thumbed through another report from his Chief Engineer on the status of their repairs to the ship's armor. But he didn't have it in him to actually read it. What was the point? Their portable 3D printers couldn't replicate armor. He was still annoyed at recent events and couldn't let it go. "Damn them. We'd already swept this area for weapons and partisans. The locals weren't causing any trouble. But now thanks to the Legionnaires we have a bunch of new ET martyrs for the Imps to rally around. It wouldn't surprise me if half the town's people left behind didn't sneak out into the surrounding islands to start causing trouble. The Legionnaires seem to love solving one problem and creating two more."
"Something tells me there's more to this than a few Tin Men causing trouble." Romano said delicately. Mallory didn't answer, but instead looked over to the one piece of decoration in the operations room. It was a framed photograph of the Mallory family from before the first war; him, his parents, his younger brother Cale, and his sister Emma.
"Have you spoken with her about...?"
"She's still in the med bay." Mallory said with a bit of defensiveness. Even now the subject of Emma Mallory and her position aboard the Ragnarok was a touchy subject for him.
Romano looked like he was about to say something, but Mallory cut him off. "She's been ordered to report to me as soon as Doctor Tensing clears her from observation."
Romano gave a curt nod of acknowledgement. He was about to speak further when an electronic chime came from the door.
"Enter." Mallory said. The door opened and Second Lieutenant Emma Mallory stepped into the office and stood at attention. Mallory glanced down and noticed the bandages on his sister's right hand reaching up her arm and under the sleeve of the orange flight suit she was wearing.
"Lieutenant Mallory reporting as ordered Captain." Emma said smartly, her eyes fixed at the wall behind Mallory's head.
"At ease." Mallory ordered. Emma relaxed her posture.
"My apologies for not reporting sooner, Sirs," Emma began. "The doc insisted I stay behind for observation for an additional 12 hours before he approved my flight status. He wasn't sure about these new dermal regenerators we got from the First Order. You know how it is with bacta being in such short supply."
"I told you to stand at ease! I didn't give you permission to speak, Lieutenant." Mallory said harshly. He turned to Romano. "You are dismissed, Commander. Report to the bridge. I'll join you shortly."
Romano looked like he wanted to object, but it was evident that the Captain would brook no second guessing of his orders. Romano rose from his seat, saluted, and then departed from the ready room.
Once the Commander was gone and the door closed, Mallory turned his full attention to Emma. To her credit, the Lieutenant didn't flinch or shrink from his glare. But there was a sense of defiance and confusion in her expression that he did not like at all.
Mallory stood up from his chair and walked out from behind his desk.
"You're a real pain in my ass, you know that?" Mallory asked.
"Sir, I..." She began. But Mallory wasn't in the mood for her excuses, not yet.
"Why are we on this planet?" He asked sharply.
Her confusion grew plainer on her face. "To...to secure it for the Confederacy and the President." She said haltingly.
"No, dammit! Why is this ship, my ship, on this planet? Why aren't we in orbit at Kafrene with the rest of the 1st Fleet, or moving supplies up and down the Bloodstripe with the 2nd?"
"We...our Task Force was ordered to hold here for repairs and refit while the advance is paused." She said.
"Half of our Task Force is in orbit around the nearby moon Akiva 5 awaiting refit." Mallory said, the heat in his voice rising. "Why are we, the crew of the Ragnarok, on this planet?"
"The...our ship needed repairs that couldn't be done in orbit and we didn't have the fuel to make it back to Sol System or New Ryloth." Emma responded, her confusion being consumed by a hint of annoyance. That only aggravated Mallory further.
"Repairs." Mallory repeated. He reached over and grabbed an iPad from his desk and held it up in the Lieutenant's face.
"On top of waiting for more proton torpedoes and tibanna gas for my phasers, I've got a busted shield generator, a chunk of armor that needs replacing, a rail-gun emplacement blown to hell, and two X-1's with moderate damage that all needs repairing."
"I understand that that must be difficult, Sir, but we are at war." Emma began. But Mallory cut her off.
"Don't you dare give me that 'this is war, shit happens' excuse, Lieutenant." Mallory snapped. "Your orders were simple. Cover the Ragnarok while we over saw the Legionnaire's landings on Kelshan. Shoot down any TIE that tried to breach our ship's defenses. But you just couldn't be bothered, could you?"
Emma was fuming now, but Mallory didn't care. He stepped closer to her, until they were nose to nose and he was staring down at her.
"You had to be a hero." Mallory spat the word hero like it was a foul curse.
"I was engaged with the enemy. I couldn't break off." Emma tried to explain.
"And so you went chasing after every TIE jockey who crossed your path like a mad dog chasing a car." Mallory retorted. "And in so doing you left this ship defenseless to follow up fighter attacks. Our defensive batteries can only cover so much. We need dedicated air support when dealing with multiple enemy fighters. Did it ever once cross your mind that maybe, just maybe, they were trying to draw you away from us? That they were trying to bait you into chasing a few of them so their bombers could drain our shields and leave us defenseless to enemy fire from one of their frigates or those new Raider corvettes we just found out about?"
"There were no frigates or corvettes in our area." Emma responded.
"At the moment. But how would you have known? All you could be bothered to see was the nearest enemy fighter."
"I was doing my job!" Emma argued, the heat spilling over into her voice.
"I gave you a direct order to stay with the Ragnarok!" Mallory said.
"I didn't hear it!" Said Emma, carried away by unrestrained emotion. Mallory gave her a gallows grin. He had her now.
"Didn't hear it?" He asked rhetorically. "That's weird, your flight recorder says something quite different." Emma grew pale and actually flinched away from him.
"Didn't think I'd have time to go over the flight recorder with all the repairs, did you? Think again. You heard my order over the battle net." Mallory said, suddenly deathly quiet. "You then changed the frequency on your radio. And then you muttered under your breath...what was it again?" He looked at his pad, and keyed in a new command so he could read a transcript from Emma's flight log. He usually wasn't keen on theatrics, but he was in the mood to rake someone over the coals. "Oh yeah...you said, 'screw it, this is more important.'"
The operations room fell silent, and Emma was, thankfully, no longer looking at him as though he had been the one to screw her over.
"Funny, I didn't know that a Lieutenant could ignore the orders of their Captain. Wish I'd known that back in Vegas. I would have ducked out for some vacation time if that were the case."
"I was denying the enemy valuable assets. I took out the enemy's flight leader..." Emma explained.
"And left us susceptible to the rest of his squadron." Mallory said. "Who tried to bleed us to death with a thousand phaser cuts." Mallory tossed the pad back onto his desk and then looked back at her.
"Congratulations Lieutenant. You killed a single ET, who only according to you was a suspected flight leader, and in the process needed to be saved from four of his buddies out to avenge their lost comrade. Lieutenant Moon nearly got killed trying to rescue your sorry ass."
"I didn't need rescuing." Emma argued lamely.
"Your fighter was shot to hell! The X-1 is supposed to outclass TIE/Ln Starfighters. They weren't even Interceptors. We're lucky that that bird of yours is even salvageable for anything other than scrap. You nearly died! How the hell do you not understand that?" Mallory yelled. "And we were left without coverage. We were lucky that we were able to fend off as many fighters as we did and that they eventually decided to give up and abandon Kelshan. If they had continued to press the attack, or if, god forbid, one of their bigger ships had shown up, we would have been defenseless. Without our shields one shot from a capital ship is all it would have taken to end us there and then."
Mallory turned away from his sister and walked back to his desk. He collapsed into his chair behind his desk and rested his head in his hands. "This is a war that will be decided by resources. Our supply lines are stretched thin, Lieutenant. The more we waste on stupid shit like this, the less we'll have further on when we actually need it. We can't afford to fuck around."
"We didn't win the last war by being timid." Emma said.
"Don't fucking lecture me on the last war." Mallory warned. "While you were clearing rubble and going to school in the camps I was facing the ETs up close and personal. We survived by being smarter than they were. The Empire thought they had the whole war all sewn up. They thought they were doing well right up to the point where I pointed the Ares superlaser right at the Empress's Palace on Mars."
"So I am repeatedly informed." Emma murmured, clearly embittered.
Mallory closed his eyes and willed himself to regain control of his temper. Of course she was bitter. They had never spoken of it, but he'd always known that she was envious of his stature as a Hero of the Confederacy. How could she not be? Their parents were always happy to talk with anyone and everyone about their heroic son and his seemingly stellar career. She couldn't mention her own name without someone referencing her famous older brother. She herself was, by comparison, an afterthought. A mere footnote.
"You're not going to be the first one to Palpatine Prime, so you can forget any thought of repeating my act with the Empress. Your generation," Mallory said with disgust. "Was raised on a diet of simplified propaganda. You're all overconfident and convinced that you're immortal. You're not. This isn't some rag tag alliance of underdogs from a Hollywood film where the hero can disregard orders from his superior because the plot revolves around him. We can only win if we all work together. Having people running off, disregarding or reinterpreting orders is only going to make victory more difficult to achieve in the long run."
Emma was quiet for a moment as what her brother said finally sank in. And then she stood back to attention.
"Yes sir. I understand, sir."
"Do you?" Mallory asked. "I wonder."
"Will that be all, sir?" Emma asked.
Mallory didn't respond. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the family photo on the wall.
"You remind me of Cale."
"Sir?" She asked.
"I'm dropping the ranks for now, Emma." Mallory said softly as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He was so tired. When had he last had a good night's sleep?
"You want to be a hero. You've heard all these stories about your big brother. I've become larger than life...and so has my shadow."
He looked at her, and his expression softened. "I know that it hasn't been easy. Following in my footsteps. Trying to get out from under this legend that the Ministry of Communications has cooked up around me. It must be suffocating."
Emma glanced down at the deck. "It hasn't been easy." She admitted.
"Cale was desperate for glory." Mallory admitted. Emma stepped forward, guarded curiosity on her face. Her eldest brother had never spoken about Cale to her after his death.
"Is...is it bad to admit that I can't even remember what his voice sounded like?" She asked, her eyes drawn to the photo as well.
"I can." Mallory admitted, his expression haunted. Emma had seen that face a thousand times. At that moment her brother was a thousand lightyears away and over 20 years in the past. It was the expression of a man who had seen too much.
"He wanted to be a hero...just like his brother." Mallory said. "I took him under my wing. He was fresh from training, fresh from clearing Winnipeg of the gangsters who had taken it over. He thought he was invincible. He had visions of killing whole truckloads of ETs and being plastered with medals. And in the end he didn't last more than a few hours at the front."
Emma gave him a searching look. She seemed desperate for Mallory to keep talking.
"I didn't have time to quash that crap." Mallory said. "He was headstrong and desperate to prove himself. And so he ran out and got himself killed. I can't do it again, Emma. I can't have someone else in my family trying to surpass this dumb legacy of mine and getting killed for it."
"I am not Cale, Justin." Emma said. "I've been in the military longer than he has. I have more discipline, more experience..." Mallory personally had his doubts about her discipline, but said nothing. There wasn't much he could say.
"You don't need to protect me." She concluded.
Was that what she thought this was about, he wondered? Did she think he was trying to shield her? He hadn't asked to have her transferred under his command. He rather suspected that someone back in Sydney's Space Force Command was testing him, to see how he'd react to putting his own sister in harm's way. Was this some sort of vague, perverse punishment on their part for his time spent with Tenel, all those years ago? He didn't know. He was about to respond to her when an alarm rang out over the ship's PA system. The voice of Commander Romano cut out over the siren.
"All hands, man your battlestations. Enemy force detected in the outer system. Captain Mallory, report to the bridge. I repeat, all hands..."
Mallory looked to Emma. There was so much he wanted to say. Needed to say.
"Your fighter is still being repaired, but the Hellsing brought in some spare X-1's fresh from the factories on Earth. They're in the big hangar next to the Hagia Sophia. You and Moon grab one of the Humvees on the beach and get over there. Move your ass!"
Emma nodded, saluted, and dashed out of his office. Mallory stepped out behind her, watched her retreat down the hall, and then turned and made his way to the bridge.
"I have the deck and the conn." Mallory announced upon his arrival. No one turned and faced him. They were too busy fighting for their ship, right where they should be.
"Captain has the deck and the conn." Romano repeated to the crew so there'd be no confusion.
When he arrived he was greeted by a vision of fury as chaos swept Utegetu's aquatic harbor. Dozens of 'V' formations of Imperial TIE fighters and bombers swept in from the sea. Squadrons of Interceptors raked the beachfront repair stations and landing sites with their chin cannons while great plumes of water, set off by premature bomb drops by the forward TIE bombers, climbed into the dawn sky.
The bridge of the Ragnarok fared little better as his Space Force Guardians scrambled to man their battle stations in time to repel the enemy sneak attack. Mallory knew that a good fourth of his crew was on shore leave and dreaded fighting a battle with a much reduced crew. His ship wouldn't be the only one, as much of the resting fleet had put whole watches in new barracks ashore to make room for repairs to their vessels.
Sporadic anti-aircraft fire and surface-to-air missiles rose to greet the Imperial intruders. Previous encounters with the Imps rimward of Ro-loo had proven how futile the RKB-enhanced computer guidance systems of such weapons had been against snub-nosed fighters and Admiral Akfar had issued a directive for them to be replaced with cheaper human sailors and marines manning the weapon systems. These fighting men and women now jumped from their bunks at the first klaxons and scrambled to the Ragnarok's defensive turrets. All around them Legionnaires raced across the white, sandy beaches to man Goalkeeper Gatling turrets and Stark mobile phaser cannons. Only about half of the base's defenses had been emplaced and a large amount of the portable crew weapons were uselessly lined up in neat rows alongside their ammo dumps behind the beach.
"We've got at least two attack wings inbound. Mixed bag of Interceptors and bombers." Radar reported.
"Probably armed with proton torpedoes and energy bombs." Romano hazarded a guess.
"Bearing. Remember your training." Mallory snapped at the radar controller.
"Sorry, sir."
"Don't be sorry. Where are they coming from?"
"Bandits at mark zero-three-seven. At Angels ten to fifteen thousand. Range five kilos and closing."
The ship shuddered as the anti-air defenses opened up. Mallory followed their tracers as they reached harmlessly towards the enemy formations. "Dammit, Commander get those gun crews to use the right tibanna, we're going to burn through the short range stuff pretty quick."
"Aye, all gun turrets switch to yellow and mark your targets for the rest of the fleet." Romano relayed Mallory's message about the tibanna to the crews. Space Force used designated colors in their tibanna to mark ranges. Green was for long range, yellow medium and red for close in defense. Designed to mimic a traffic light and cut down on mistakes, at least that is what Mallory believed until he watched red bolts burn out shooting at targets well beyond their designated ranges.
The young Guardians did their best. Mallory led by example and provided a calm reassurance amid the chaos unfolding all across Utegetu's anchorage and beaches. The TIE bombers bore in and dropped their payloads. As frustrated as Mallory was becoming, watching his untested crews miss time and time again, he was relieved when only one out of every twenty Imperial bombs struck a target. Evidently, it was the first taste of combat for their pilots as well and nerves were on edge on both sides.
The Imperials had better luck pounding the hangars and repair facilities behind the beaches. A powerful blast nearby collapsed several buildings and set the surrounding jungle ablaze in a handful of locations. Ground crew took it on the nose as dozens of them were cut down trying to get Confederate fighters into the air to repel the attack.
Nearby a Naruto light-cruiser, Shield Hero, attempted to climb into the sky, temporarily blocking the fire of at least a dozen starships still parked on the beaches below it. The Imps saw the Shield Hero rising up to greet them and met it with a strike of three powerful energy bombs that collapsed its shield and blew her power converters. The Naruto slammed heavily back down in the same location she had been parked several moments before.
The attack lasted another quarter hour. When the bombers and torpedo carrying TIEs were done the Interceptors raced down the beach strafing every target of opportunity they could find. Then, as quickly as it had begun, the attack was over. The Interceptors must have spotted something inland as reports quickly followed of an air battle over the new Galloway Air Base, that combat engineers had only finished a week ago.
Mallory kept his sailors at their station as they listened to reports of Imperial withdrawal and a running pursuit by a handful of B-wings. The pursuit didn't seem to produce anything more than the loss of half the space superiority bombers including a rather brave, yet suicidal, ramming of a Star Destroyer by the B-wings' flight leader before they escaped to hyperspace.
Mallory had his crew stand to their stations for over an hour after the attack was over. He checked and rechecked that every Guardian under his command had replied to an after-action roll call before turning to Romano. "Sound All Clear."
Romano spoke into the Ragnarok's address system. "Stand down from General Quarters. Repeat stand down from General Quarters. Maintain watch on all turrets."
Mallory felt the rush of adrenaline slowly seep from his veins as the minutes after the attack started to drift by. It had been such a surge when the alert had been sounded that his skin felt like it buzzed with electricity. For a second, he recalled that day, long ago in Los Angeles, when he had watched thousands of Imperial ships invade his home world from above.
"This was nothing compared to that." He whispered to himself as he exited the bridge with Commander Romano left in charge. Then why did this time his life was on the line feel like the first time? Was it the responsibility of command? Was it the presence of his kid sister? The walls of the Ragnarok felt like they were closing in on Mallory and he needed to escape, if only for a minute.
The Ex-Ranger turned Space-Ship Captain left the rear loading ramp of the Ragnarok just as more of his sailors were still filing in from their leaves. The young, was he ever that young, Guardians whipped off quick salutes to the old man. God dammit, he thought, I'm in my early forties.
He found a spot on a fallen log lying next to the beach. The humidity of Ro-loo was near stifling and the air was choked full of smoke drifting over the remains of the battlefield. Several kilometers down the beachfront a massive plume of smoke rose into the sky marking the grave of the tanker transport Celestial. The hypermatter transport was one of the few ships destroyed in the enemy's attack.
"Cold one, Captain?" A voice asked from behind.
Mallory turned his head to see Rear Admiral Cui Mengyao, commander of Task Force 65. The Admiral was carrying a six pack of Bud Light. He peeled one out of its ring and handed it to Mallory. "Admiral, I didn't know you were on Ro-Loo."
"I wasn't. I had rendezvoused with Admiral Porter's TF 22 out at the Grinning Moon. Fucking ETs and their names for their shitty moons. We chased what we think was the Flood, and maybe the Slash or the Quill, out of the system." The Rear Admiral took a seat next to Mallory on the log.
Mallory took an offered beer and popped the tab open. "Fuckers got away clean." He pointed his beer at the fiery remains of the Celestial. "But not before they did that."
"They got two transports further down the beach, the Magnifique and the Gallant. One of them was empty of the troops she had brought in but the Gallant was still unloading supplies. She was about half full when she went up."
"What was she carrying?" Mallory asked out of mild curiosity.
"Manufacturing robots and a couple dockyard cranes, I think. And they didn't get away as clean as you think. Our gunners and fighters are claiming nearly fifty TIEs shot down." Cui laughed and then spit onto the sand. "So far, our gun turret cameras and radar have confirmed fourteen."
"The Confederate News Network will report the wild claims over the actual numbers, I'm sure." Mallory suggested based off past dealings with the government controlled news agency back on Earth. They toed the President's official line, as reporting anything else often led to the rumored disappearance of enterprising journalists.
"No doubt about it. If they report this mess at all. My guess is this raid will be treated as a snore on CNN's website protected by a paywall that hardly anyone will read." Cui suggested. "Bet the same can't be said about the HoloNews."
"We will find out in a few hours. My sailors intercept the Imperial news channels more easily than CNN out here, especially since the Empire broadcasts it in the clear. They especially like Palpatine Prime Penelope." Mallory said.
"She's got a sultry voice that's for sure. The CIA believes she's a Twi'lek, at least according to her hologram avatar. Nasty aliens. I'm sure she'll be mocking us soon enough. Now that they caught us flat-footed we can no longer laugh at them for sleeping during the First Order's attack on Nal Kuat." Cui painted the larger picture for Mallory. Mallory tried to enjoy his beer while at the same time recalling every detail to pass on to Romano once he returned to the Ragnarok.
"We hurt them worse. That's for sure. Even the Holonews slips up and gives hints to their actual casualties at Nal Kuat. Something like eight damaged and two of their big boys completely destroyed. That far outweighs three transports." Mallory offered.
"Perhaps. The Celestial might pinch us. We only have, excuse me, had, twelve fuelers in the entire Space Force and all our tibanna and hypermatter has to be hauled out here from Venus until the First Order gets its refinery on Titan set up. Admiral Jethran is dispatching five of his Resurgents as a quick reaction force out to us here. They're due in a few hours. Waste of gas if you ask me. And now Akfar has the entirety of 1st Fleet blocking what he thinks will be the enemy's escape at Kafrene Outpost and parts of 2nd Fleet jumping to Protivos to cut them off if they move back that way. We think that's where they snuck in."
"Fucking sneaky ETs." Mallory replied. The Task Forces at Ro-Loo hadn't even known the Imperials were in the neighborhood until the first bombs drooped.
"Aye. I doubt we catch them. They know this area too well. They've been mapping it for twenty years. That was most likely their Admiral Vertitas. Gentis's new hatchet man. Intelligence says he used to run their Space Ministry."
"Could've been worse, sir." Mallory suggested.
"Oh, for sure. Our warships only suffered light damage."
"True, but they had capital ships up in orbit. None of them joined in the attack. They could have wiped this whole anchorage out if they wanted to. Instead they left it to their fighters. If their bombing had been better or their Wing attacks more coordinated they could have done far worse damage. With practice, they'll only get better from here on out."
"They probably have some idea of our numbers now. Besides the Ares and her Interdictor escort, we think they're running with three Star Destroyers. They're not willing to risk any of them. Cowards."
"I respectfully disagree, sir. They sent two of them into our zones of control. They're willing to take a punch as well as dish them out." Mallory pointed out.
"You sound like you admire them."
"I can respect an enemy. We must never underestimate them after what they did to us in the last war."
"For certain. This raid proves they can slip past our forward base at Kafrene Outpost any time they want. We must put a stop to that and plug the holes before something worse happens." Cui prophesized.
"Something worse? How far behind our forward units do you believe they can still strike? Everyone knows they're unable to relieve Mars by now. And even if they did 2nd Fleet's Eiffels are at New Ryloth and the First Order has most of its warships right next door at Titan." The map of the Bloodstripe Run spread itself wide in Mallory's mind.
"Whatever happens, we must absolutely prevent any space-borne attack on Earth." Admiral Cui agreed, yet with the knowledge that there was no foolproof defense against Star Destroyer raids. Mallory recognized a conviction that was growing in high command's minds that they must find a way to get rid of all the Imperial Star Destroyers, especially his old stomping grounds, the Ares.
Mallory returned a nervous chuckle. Unsure of how right he was. "The Empire hitting Earth? After we've taken the entire rimward half of the Bloodstripe. I think you overestimate their chances."
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