Tarkin's Fist IV: Blood and Durasteel

by AshlaTi

A generation has passed since the devastation of the Empire-Earth War. Now a new conflict rages, this time the battles are fought among the stars themselves. A new enemy rises to threaten both the Empire and Earth's very existence. New characters and old raise arms against one another for the very fate of the Milky Way

44. New Thyfeeria 4

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FOS Hatred, Combined Allied Fleet, Kuat System

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General Crisis knew it had been a long day. He could feel it in his bones and see it in the way the ten pilots and their bombardiers stood in front of him. They had been part of the Hatred's section of the Judge Wave that had bombed Target Alexandria, circled endlessly through wave after wave of scattered Imperial attackers and witnessed the apocalyptic catastrophe that had befallen the Hatred's three sister Resurgents.

The Whispers the bucketheads piloted required longer loading times than their TIE/fb counterparts. Due to the time constraints, they had been left behind when Commander Calatran had led the retribution attack on the Star Destroyer the Lady Liberty's scout had spotted. The TIE commander had just reported a successful strike on an Imperial I class ship, leaving it dead and adrift in the Void. With that sort of damage, drifting so near the Almuhit Maelstrom, the vessel was most assuredly destroyed.

Now it was time to even the odds and sink another.

Captain Docius walked slowly up and down the line of pilots next to the First Order Security Droid projecting Crisis's hologram from its palm imagecaster. The General would have preferred to have been aboard the Hatred, with Docius and the pilots, after having the Assaulter catch fire underneath his feet a mere two hours prior. Crisis also had the need to watch over the foolish Earthling commander of the strike force, Admiral Akfar, who had fled to the nearby Kleanse to continue to direct the battle's diminishing returns. It was from that Maxima A heavy cruiser that General Crisis now studied the holographic pilots before him.

They were young, the best Whisper pilots had been aboard the Kill when she had been hit. Crisis hoped most of them had been rescued and transferred to escort vessels, but most of the Resurgents had been hit in the vulnerable hangars and casualties had been severe amongst the flight crews. He was satisfied to see three of the pilots wore Obsidian Reaper pilot helmets, showing some experience on their part back in the Home Galaxy. They would surely be successful in locating and destroying a second enemy Star Destroyer before the day was done.

Docius was explaining their mission to the men and women of the pathetically small strike force. "Commander Calatran is escorting our remaining bombers back to this location. You will meet him halfway where he and his fighters will escort you to the next enemy Star Destroyer."

"Sir, will his fighters be enough? I've heard he's only brought back six bombers from the squadrons he initially departed with." One of the braver pilots asked. It was a legitimate concern. Both sides had suffered grievously when their bombers had left the safety of their fighter escort.

Crisis answered before the Hatred's commander could dress the man down for cowardice. "Admiral Akfar is dispatching seventeen X-Wings to accompany you. That is over two-thirds of our remaining fighter cover for this fleet. Do not waste this opportunity. Make your one bomber feel like a hundred."

"General, is Admiral Jethran bringing in more reinforcements? Ten Whispers against two Star Destroyers is a mighty task." Another flight leader asked.

"One worthy of the First Order." Crisis snapped back at the young pilot. "Akfar fell into this trap and our more astute Admiral Jethran will not compound the Confederacy's intelligence failures with more destroyed First Order warships. The only way the Admiral will advance with the main fleet is if one of you locates the Ares Super Star Destroyer."

The pilots looked nervously at each other. They had heard rumors the Empire possessed such a ship. One even bigger than their two Mandator IV Siege Dreadnaughts back at Kafrene Outpost.

"If the Ares appears in this sector, I will personally advance the man who locates it by two ranks. If one of you is capable of landing a proton torpedo against any enemy Star Destroyer I will advance you to Wing Commander the moment you land back on the Hatred." Crisis declared and was satisfied as his pilots stood a little straighter and held their heads higher at this spot of news.

"Who should we focus on first, sir?" the first outspoken pilot asked.

"Launch an attack upon any other Star Destroyers other than the one Calatran's group hit and set on fire. If no other Star Destroyers are found in the area, direct attack upon the same one. Though from the sounds of it, it was burning quite fiercely when Calatran's strike force left the area. No doubt it has succumbed to its wounds and won't be a factor." Calatran snapped a proper First Order salute. "Now to your TIEs. We don't have a moment to lose."

Crisis cut the feed as the pilots broke formation and raced away to their ready TIE/wi. Akfar was in a heated argument with several of his escort captains over the unexpected and insufficient rescue operations and had little time for the counterattack planning. So, the Earthling officer paid General Crisis little heed as the First Order commander walked to the Kleanse's forward viewport and watched the deployment play out.

In the distance, the still furiously burning Assaulter was still blazing away. The fires had reached the bridge by now and Captain Setrauss hadn't been heard from for the better part of an hour. Crisis assumed his comrade was the third, and hopefully last, First Order Captain lost today. Rimward, and nearly out of visual sight, was the Hatred. Crisis had to use his helmet's advanced optics to spot the ten tiny TIE craft dropping away from the Resurgent's belly hangar. They turned and sped away along Calatran's last flight path. As they did so a squadron of X-Wings, nearly all the ones aloft at the moment, fell in behind them and provided escort back to the enemy's last known location.

Captain Bratt approached the General with a datapad in his hands. "Moxxi One and Two just returned to the Eiffel."

"I thought they were off the Lady Liberty?" Crisis said.

"They were, but the Lady Liberty is heavily involved in pulling survivors off the Sinister at the moment. It is a kriffing frustrating assignment. Those Space Force cruisers couldn't hold a fifth of a Resurgent's crew. And their Captains are insisting on getting the wounded off first rather than fit sailors." Bratt pointed out.

"A defect in their cultural thinking, I've noticed. It will be their downfall in the end." He looked at the flimsi in the other man's hand. "What is that?"

"Last report from Moxxi Two when she landed."

"And?"

"Moxxi Two says there are definitely three enemy Star Destroyers in the sector. Two Imperial I and a single Imperial II." Bratt recited the scout pilot's report.

"Three? Confirmed?"

"By Moxxi One. Commander Calatran only saw one ship during the first counterattack from the Hatred." Bratt informed him.

"Echuta." Crisis sighed. He knew Akfar had fallen for some sort of Imperial trap. Perhaps his Fulcrum source was compromised. "No doubt the Slash, Fool and the Quill. Which means the Ares and the Immobile could be cutting us off from Kafrene Outpost or even hitting our base back on Titan as we speak."

"We need to start thinking about withdrawal, General." Bratt stated. The suggestion stung Crisis's ears. In the history of the First Order only General Hux had led the First Order into major defeat. Now, here in this new Galaxy, the First Order had suffered two significant defeats within a month with a total loss of four destroyed and another two ships damaged. Was it their own ally's inherent weaknesses or an unseen fault starting to rise to the surface that was slowly eating away at the 7th Fleet of Conquest? Whatever it was, it would be a long time before they tasted the vileness of defeat again, Crisis vowed.

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Jury Wave, in route back to the Combined Fleet

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Calatran fought back the instinctual feeling to fight that he got every time he saw X-Wings. To be on the same side as them against beings who saw themselves as Imperials was even stranger. He spotted the X-Wings, or X-1s as their Earthling pilots called them, first. They flew a loose pattern around their charges, ten TIE/wi torpedo bombers.

The veteran Wing commander cut the six TIE/fb he was shepherding loose. They would return to the Hatred on their own and rearm, get some food, stims and some of those Monster energy drinks the Earthlings were so fond of. They would join whatever was left of this strike and hit the Imperials again. He wondered if the Supreme Leader was going to hit the Empire again and again until there was nothing left. It was starting to feel as if that was her intention.

The TIE/fb and TIE/wi switched positions as Calatran took the lead of the combined assault force. Including his own fighter, there was a mixed group of Silencers and TIE/fo that made up an even dozen First Order escorts to add to their Space Force compatriots. Only an hour ago he had led a force nearly three times as large from Hatred and one twenty times as large against New Thyfeeria hours before that. He wondered what the next strike force would be like; himself and a handful of bombers against the entirety of the Imperial fleet?

Well, the Imperials were feeling losses of their own. Calatran was certain the Star Destroyer they had just hit was left a burning wreck by now. If they added another Star Destroyer to that score during this attack, it would be an even match between the Hatred and the last Imperial Star Destroyer. They must do whatever they could to ensure another kill.

The senior TIE pilot checked his fuel levels. Twin ion engines ate up a lot of clouzon-36 in a few hours. He probably had enough for the return trip back to the Hatred, but it would be tight. The other TIEs in the formation would be sucking fumes when they returned to the fleet. Calatran looked over at the nearest X-Wing on his port side. The Earthlings made their craft for distance. They could probably make this trip three times over without refueling. Too bad they didn't know they could put hyperdrives in those things. Well, Calatran wasn't going to tell them, besides Admiral Jethran had forbade it.

Forty minutes after the rendezvous with the Whispers they started to fly into the same area where Calatran's dive bombers had destroyed the first Star Destroyer. Oddly, there was some drifting smoke and small pieces of debris drifting in the Void, but nothing big enough to be the remains of an Imperial I class Star Destroyer. Had the wreckage drifted into the nearby Almuhit and crashed into a carbonberg? The nearest tendrils of the barrier looked to be almost fifty thousand kilometers away, which was quite a distance to drift in two hours.

His sensor alarm on his flight panel started to blink a proximity alert. Something was out there, off in the direction between New Thyfeeria and much more distant Nal Kuat. Calatran wagged his panels to signal the formation to follow him as he banked towards the bogey that had tripped his proximity alarm.

They soon came across part of the Imperial fleet and to Calatran's relief he spotted a single Star Destroyer surrounded by eight lesser escorts and a sizable fighter cover. The largest warship looked to be the other Imperial I Star Destroyer they had been warned about, but for some reason it looked to be moving much slower than a warship in the midst of battle had any right to do.

Was this the same ship they had struck earlier? It couldn't be, Calatran thought, that ship had been a blazing wreck. No way had her damage control parties put those hypermatter fires out in such a short period. Yet, here was a ship, with some visible battle damage, in an area roughly next to the one in which they just attacked. Could it be the same one?

"It's a different Star Destroyer. It can still attack our fleet." A feminine voice spoke from the back of his mind. It repeated the words over and over until the voice became his own and he was shouting it across the squadron's comm channel.

The Imperial fighters swooped in and were intercepted less than forty kilometers out. A virtual replay of the earlier vape-fight ensued, with two X-Wings and a Silencer falling to the more numerous TIE Interceptors. Calatran watched as the defenders attempted their strange new weave tactics to great effect against the attackers. They would have to study it when they had time and find a way to counter it.

Calatran didn't have time to focus on the new problem. His fighters would just have to keep the enemy fighters off the torpedo carriers long enough for them to launch their attack. He, personally, led the Whispers in on their attack run.

One of the Interceptors ripped apart a slow-moving Whisper just to be destroyed a second later by a vengeful X-Wing. The escorts opened up on both friend and foe taking down another Whisper as well as one of their own Interceptors that was tangling with a TIE Silencer. The Silencer had no time to celebrate as the Interceptor's panelman punctured his craft with a stream of green bolts a heartbeat later.

The anti-airspeeder turrets experienced more difficulty in catching the swerving TIEs and X-Wings than they had in winging their own Interceptors. The Imperial light cruisers resorted to a novel tactic. They blasted their main battery turrets into the Void ahead of the torpedo carriers with tibanna bolts mixed with high-explosive orveth gas sending up puffs of rainbow-colored shrapnel clouds. Either the Interceptors or the explosive clouds kept all but five of the Whispers from reaching the target area.

"Take positions in preparation for attack formation." Calatran hyperwaved his remaining units. Then. Twenty seconds later. "Entire force attack!"

Calatran slammed his flight controls forward and led the attack. As he did so a rainbow cloud erupted directly in front of his TIE. The TIE/vi shuddered violently as it shook off the near miss. Suddenly something let out a loud clunk and crashed behind his seat. The starboard engine failed as the left ion engine began to shimmy. His alarm panel lit up like an Alderaan Suppression Day parade.

"Fierfek!" he grunted as he fought with his nonresponsive controls. The transparisteel canopy of the cockpit imploded inwards, automatically initiating his life-support system. Instinctively he knew they didn't contain enough oxygen for him to return to the fleet.

The massive shape of the Star Destroyer loomed before him. He could see the battle damage from the earlier strike, yet the voice in the back of his mind forbid him from realizing it was the same vessel. He knew in his soul that they were about to wreck a second enemy warship.

He pushed the flight stick forward as if the TIE was still responding to him. Not that it mattered as the large Star Destroyer moved much too slowly to get out of his way. As the grey armor plates rushed up towards his falling fighter, he ground his teeth together and activated the hyperwave one last time. "For the Sith Eternal!"

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INS Flood

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Captain Isoto watched as the attack bore in. It was much smaller than the one that had struck earlier, but by no means was it less deadly. Especially with those highly effective First Order torpedo carriers at the center of their attack formation. Thank the Light Side, they were still focused on the crippled Flood and not the other two remaining undamaged Star Destroyers.

Squadrons of Interceptors, his own and several fighters from the Quill and Slash, tangled with the enemy. The X-Wings paid a heavy toll to keep the Imperial pilots off the Whispers.

A sudden flash drew his attention to the TIE at the lead of the attack. A burst of shrapnel punctured its engines and crumpled one of its panels. Still the leader continued to bore in on the Flood, where it blew up in a sheet of flame. A long, dark smudge of brown smoke and grease on the Flood's forward dorsal armor marked the enemy's pyre.

The torpedo carrier behind the crashed leader released his proton torpedo almost abeam of the Flood at a distance of five thousand meters. He flew right over the Star Destroyer's tractor beam turrets on the bow, as his torpedo fortunately sailed low and just narrowly missed the Star Destroyer's keel before exploding harmlessly in the ship's ion baffles. However, as the first Whisper sailed away, the ship's remaining anti-airspeeder blasters began to rapidly pour everything they had at the four remaining torpedo carriers charging towards the ship from starboard.

Despite her slow speed of nineteen thousand knots, Flood evaded two torpedoes, but two struck home. The first crashed into the Star Destroyer's starboard side just about amidships, the second, almost simultaneously, forward of the first. The explosions pierced the starboard Nergon-14 fuel tanks, decompressed three fire rooms and the forward reactor room, cutting off all electrical power. A short in the power converters blocked off the emergency reactor. Her thrusters jammed; for the second time that day the Flood drifted unpowered and began a seven-minute full spin to port.

The Star Destroyer continued the spin until, about ten minutes after the First Order TIEs escaped back to their own fleet, she was spinning at full rotation every two minutes. Isoto quickly conferenced with his engine room and damage control commanders and agreed nothing could be done to correct the spin. Loss of power knocked out the ship's lamps and PA audicastors, so the loss of communication from one part of the ship to another was almost total. The ruptured fuel tanks were spreading a deadly cloud of smoke around the spinning ship as her crew donned their emergency evo-suits to fight the flames and be prepared for possible evacuation. Only six TIEs remained aboard and were quickly launched to fly to the Quill. In short, the Flood was a dead loss as a Star Destroyer. Her only remaining assets were the sailors aboard her.

Yet no matter what the circumstances, the decision to abandon ship was the most difficult, cruel one Isoto ever reached. After several conversations with his ship officers, Isoto reached the conclusion that he must leave Flood to her fate. He was responsible for the nearly twenty-five thousand troopers who must be clear of the ship before her spin grew too severe for evacuation and the approach of rescue vessels and shuttles. The nearby Yutu was standing by with several frigates and cruisers to take on survivors, while two Raider corvettes, the Actuater and the Fomenter, attempted to use their meager tractor beams to slow the Flood's spin.

Captain Isoto removed his code cylinder and placed it in the bridge's command console. Immediately, blue and white emergency lamps blinked on and off across the hull, signaling the start of evacuation procedures. He hyperwaved Admiral Banjeer, "Attention all commands, we're abandoning ship."

Ravenbeast, Jestan, Coromon and Quanton's Pride closed in to pick up evacuees, while others formed a tight anti-airspeeder screen. It was a deliberate, orderly evacuation, almost too much for Admiral Banjeer watching the operation from the Yutu's bridge in a fever of apprehension.

"I hope he didn't begin too late." Banjeer said to himself, thinking no one was listening.

"He didn't, my Lord." Padawan Teshlo was nearby, standing in the shadows to a point that Banjeer had forgotten she was there. "I'm doing everything I can to keep those officers and sailors calm until they reach safety."

"You've gone above and beyond what I expected of you. Your Jedi technique focused those enemy bombers on a single ship for two attacks. It is because of you that we still have two ships to the enemy's one."

"It is the will of the Force." Teshlo firmly declared.

"I'm inclined to believe that as well." The Admiral agreed.

Removal of the Flood's wounded was very difficult because of the ship's spin and failure of its inertial dampers in several locations. Escape shuttles had to match the ship's rotation before they could couple with airlocks packed with the next group of evacuees.

Captain Isoto was one of the last men aboard and watched the evacuation until certain that everything was under control. He ordered his brigades of KX-droids to continue fire-fighting efforts and damage control. Once the fires were under control, he expected Fleet Admiral Gentis would want to tow the wreckage back to Nal Kuat, either for repairs or scrap. Once all was settled, he went off for one last inspection. He welcomed the opportunity to commune with the ship's spirit and bid her a silent farewell. He struggled along the canting port side, moved across the empty hangar, through the dressing station, forward through the flag and captain's quarters, around to the port shuttle landing bay. By this time the starboard side was fully exposed to vacuum via the holes torn by the First Order torpedoes and failed blast doors. Satisfied that he was the last living being on board, Isoto sealed his evo-suit, climbed to the airlock door and propelled himself out into the Void.

As he slipped into vacuum, he saw a thrashing figure nearby waving for help. The captain used the tiny thrusters in his officer's evo-suit and propelled himself over to the young sailor, who Isoto recognized as one of the Flood's junior mess attendants. Isoto activated his emergency beacon and immediately a Nu-class shuttle raced over to their position. They were the last two rescued from the Star Destroyer, which thanks to Isoto's leadership only carried less than a thousand of her dead with her through her death spin.

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Arquitens Cruiser, INS Yutu

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"Latest sighting report from TIE/WAC Herf." The CommScan officer showed Admiral Banjeer a set of coordinates on his datapad.

"It's about time we heard from Chief Bakoosta. Where have they been?" Banjeer studied the sighting report. The enemy fleet had only traveled another twenty thousand kilometers from where their three Resurgents had been hit.

"He apologizes, sir. Even with the TIE/WAC's advanced gear it's been difficult to cut through First Order jamming."

"I see. I assume it's easier now that we've dispensed with three of their larger ships." Banjeer replied as he went through the ships spotted by the Herf. One Resurgent Star Destroyer, two First Order heavy cruisers, two Space Force heavy cruisers, three light cruisers and a dozen corvettes spotted so far, with other light escorts presumed to be in the area. Their position was a mere hundred and ten thousand kilometers from the abandoned Flood. As luck would have it, the enemy's course took her directly towards his remaining two Star Destroyers.

"Orders, sir?" The CommScan officer spoke for the score of gathered officers and crewmen aboard the Arquiten's bridge. For a split second, he thought he felt the eyes of his old commander, and the ship's own namesake, looking at him from across the veil of the universal Force.

"Signal the Quill and Slash. I want every space-worthy TIE sent aloft immediately." Within minutes TIEs were spilling forth from the two Star Destroyers and racing towards the coordinates Herf indicated. Not surprisingly, they were headed in the same direction that the handful of First Order and Space Force attackers had retreated after wrecking the Flood.

Banjeer watched them go. Along with them went the hopes of the Empress and the entirety of the Empire, who still simmered with anger after Nal Kuat and the loss of half the Bloodstripe. "Now we pay off the score."

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Bomber Four Squadron, on approach towards enemy Combined Fleet

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"Is this normal?" Ghest radioed. "They had a lot more fighter cover earlier."

"Stay off the comms." Star Scream warned the rookie pilot on his left wing. The Rodian wasn't wrong. The space around the enemy fleet was crawling with X-Wings when they hit them earlier. Now his subspace radar was barely picking up ten of the fighters scattered among the enemy fleet and none of them seemed to have detected the Imperial strike force before they had arrived in a superior relative position to the remaining Resurgent twenty kilometers away.

Nearby, Bomber One banked into their dives and followed their leader into a massed bombing run. They were supposed to go in together and a second later Apex's voice cut in. "All Bomber Four elements, Electron Blue formation. Follow me in."

Star Scream and his two panelmen were in the center of the formation. They were nearly ten kilometers above the big Resurgent when its anti-airspeeder gunners finally woke up to the danger they were in. The space around them was suddenly filled with plasma fire. A TIE/sa from Bomber One vaporized from a direct hit ahead of them.

There was no time to think of the danger they were in. They had a job to do and an Empire to serve. Star Scream yelled at his bombardier. "Tonks, arm the weapon and prime the release."

"We're a go for deploy." Tonks shouted back across the crew access hatch between their two pods. "Let's fry this scum."

Star Scream couldn't agree more. Bombs from Bomber One's attack started exploding across the surface of the Resurgent as he made straight for the Gunnery Sensor Array station at the junction of the ship's hull and superstructure tower. The unbelievable swift turn of the Star Destroyer threw off his aim, and in endeavoring to throw his bomb rather than drop it, Star Scream nearly wrenched his back.

"Maclunky!" He growled through the pain, causing Tonks to release the energy bomb. He was rewarded with the sight of his bomb hitting the mid-superstructure, piercing the forward armor and exploding deep within the enemy warship.

Four other bombs struck in rapid succession on top of the Star Destroyer's mid-deck material storage vats. The first erupted inside the main turbolift corridor flinging the lifts like superheated slugs through the Resurgent, and blocking off the bridge from the remainder of the ship. Fires spread throughout the ship, blocking passageways and hurtling debris from constant explosions. One bomb pierced the hangar tibanna storage tanks and a great fireball raced through the hanger roasting alive the TIE Whisper pilots who had only moments ago returned from their strike on the Flood.

When Star Scream climbed away from the Resurgent and rejoined his squadron racing away from the now alerted enemy fleet, the Resurgent was burning from bow to stern. Someone on her bridge or engineering room must have died on the thruster controls, because the mighty ship suddenly surged ahead, charging through its scattering escorts like a mad, flaming Reek.

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FOS Hatred

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Someone had dropped the ball, Captain Docius believed. He had been briefed on a powerful Imperial craft used for SigInt operations called a TIE/WAC that allegedly possessed powerful jammers that could blind a Star Destroyer when in close proximity, but he never gave the danger much thought. That was until the moment the first bomb struck his Resurgent.

The explosions that raced through the turbolift shafts erupted at the rear of the Hatred's bridge, flinging the main bridge turbolift door straight across the room to pierce the port viewport. Everyone was swept off their fleet in the powerful vacuum. His Bridge Commander had been standing next to the viewport when it had been struck and had been sucked out into the Void before the blast door shutter had slammed shut to repressurize the bridge.

Half the bridge crew had been killed and most of the remainder injured in the blast. Docius was in shock as he tried to stand and fell again. Officers rushed forward to catch him, and that was when he noticed his lower right leg had been neatly sliced off by a large piece of shrapnel just below the knee.

He didn't have time to consider obtaining a future cybernetic replacement as he leaned on the shoulder of a Naval Trooper. His Navigator and Helmsmen had both been put out of action by the blast and someone shouted that the shields had been knocked offline.

The ship shuddered under more blasts when it occurred to Docius that the attack was already over. The Imperials were making a clean getaway coreward at the moment. What they were feeling was the explosion of his Upsilon Command Shuttle parked just two decks below the bridge. Smoke from the burning craft climbed rapidly up the exposed turbolift shaft and started filling the bridge.

Sailors staggered, blinded, round the decks, falling over bodies, scorched by the flames, suffocating from the heat and smoke. More explosions cut communications and power throughout the ship. Somebody fired the sublights at max power which, with the inertial dampers power cut, sent most of the ship's complement flying across whatever room they were in and into the nearest bulkhead. Thousands of bones were broken as crew and troopers were cast in dozens of fires burning across the Resurgent.

Within minutes, Captain Docius's ship was a helpless hulk, torn apart by explosions. A handful of Calatran's TIE fighters watched as the Hatred burned furiously and they were compelled to finally land aboard the Eiffel and Lady Liberty, since neither of the two Maxima A Heavy Cruisers could retrieve TIE craft. The Space Force vessels were ill-equipped to retrieve them as well, lacking the proper equipment to relaunch them into space should the need arise. They would have to be transferred to First Order vessels by crane and tug if the fleet made it back to Kafrene Outpost.

For some time, it seemed as if the fire in the Hatred might be brought under control with CO2 fire suppression sprinklers, but the Hatred was doomed. Ten minutes after the attack her thrusters cut out, leaving her adrift. Her steering was gone and most of her foam fire pumps were out of action. Several desperate attempts to fight a way through the smoke and flames to the reactor rooms had failed. Like her adversary, the Flood, she was dying.

As the Space Force escorts, already crammed full with survivors from the other three Resurgents, circled nervously, a brilliant Tau Ceti provided the back cloth to leaping flames and blue smoke when Captain Docius, held up by two Naval Troopers summoned all hands on the ship's PA. Etched against the flames his hologram and visage reached every functioning shipboard monitor and imagecaster still in use, as he addressed his crew from Forward Main Battery Direction station.

He said, "I am solely responsible for the loss of the Hatred. I shall remain on board to the end. But I command all of you to leave the ship and continue your loyal service to the Supreme Leader." Docius then took off his black Captain's hat and gave it to his Gunnery Commander, as a memento. In return the officer gave him a pair of depowered stun cuffs to lash himself to the ship's secondary helm control to make sure he went down with the ship. Docius waved the devices off. He did not need the extra incentive to insure his bravery in the face of his impending demise.

Some of Docius's officers asked for permission to die with him. Either they did not want to leave the Hatred out of loyalty to him, or they had finally realized the Home Galaxy was beyond their return, or they feared the wrath of Supreme Leader Vala Ren. Docius was not sure, and it did not matter. He ordered them to remember their duty and to be taken aboard a nearby Revenge corvette taking on survivors.

When he was finally left alone, he watched quietly as damage control sensors displayed the approaching apocalypse creeping towards him from below deck. The heat of the fires reached him first and with great sadness he realized he would most likely be cooked to death. Just before the feverish temperatures took him he yelled out one final time.

"First Order, then peace!"

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FOS Kleanse

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The hologram of Admiral Jethran looked down upon the gathered ranks of First Order and Confederate officers gathered on the Maxima A's bridge. Behind them a trio of Naruto light cruisers were finishing off the Hatred with a barrage of heavy proton torpedoes. Nothing could be left except a debris field for the enemy to recover.

"We possess only a mere two dozen airspeeders, nearly all of them from Space Force and only a handful are attack craft." General Crisis debriefed his commander, who merely nodded in understanding. "Perhaps, we could arm some of the Rhino Beetle shuttles, but the majority of them are currently undertaking rescue operations of the Resurgent crews."

"That won't be necessary. If needed, X-Wings can mount proton torpedoes on their undercarriage hard points." Admiral Jethran pointed out, which would have to suffice as Space Force X-1s made up almost all of the surviving air assets of the fleet.

"Of course, Admiral." Crisis should have thought of that himself. Every youngling in the First Order was told the horror story of Luke Skywalker and the first Death Star during their initial programming phases.

"I've postponed the invasion plans, Admiral. Now we must cancel our current rescue operations and withdraw our fleet from the Kuat System before the Empire brings in its Star Destroyers to finish us off." Admiral Akfar argued. The Earthling had been so thrown by the Empire's initial counterstrike that the only way he could conceive to reverse their fortunes was to flee.

"I doubt it will come to that. Admiral Banjeer has orders to spare his capital ships by any means necessary. It seems he has learned his lesson well from our instructive raid on Nal Kuat and has sufficiently trained his aircrews to deploy the same firepower a Star Destroyer can deliver, just as we have." Jethran argued.

"Excuse me? Admiral Banjeer? I was under the impression Admiral Vertitas or Gentis was leading the Imperial fleet." Akfar had his urge for flight momentarily distracted.

"While you were busy losing four of my Resurgents, one of your ships, the One Piece, picked up a downed Imperial pilot and quickly interrogated the man with the assistance of one of our interrogation droids. They sent a report shortly before the attack on the Hatred. I assume you haven't read it." Jethran asked.

"No, sir. As you've said we were rather busy and there's been a lot of reports generated today. What did the Earthlings find out?" Crisis asked.

"Banjeer, it seems, along with the Flood, Slash and Quill, six cruisers and twelve lighter escorts sailed from Nal Kuat yesterday. As did the Ares and her escort, the Immobile, coreward down the Bloodstripe Run. Banjeer was the former commander of the Flood and replaced Vertitas when the latter took ill several days ago." Jethran read back the report from the One Piece.

"Impossible. The Ares is at Onasi V. That's much too far to reach in a single day of lightspeed travel." Akfar protested. Perhaps he was embarrassed to have missed such a critical piece of intelligence gathering from one of his own ships in the midst of battle.

"I suspect your Fulcrum source is not as infallible as you believe." Jethran glared at his Terran counterpart. There wasn't much the Earthling could retort back as the First Order had done the vast majority of dying throughout the day.

"How do you wish us to proceed, Admiral?" Crisis asked the one Admiral he had any respect left for.

Jethran turned to him and the group of First Order officers behind him. They had all lost friends today. "Now is the time to reorient ourselves from the attitude of 'How far-reaching will our victory be?' to 'How much can we salvage?'."

"Do you think we can lure the Imperials into a trap of our own, Admiral?" Crisis asked.

"Yes, there is an opportunity. We must remember we are better than our Imperial counterparts. We have been through the cauldron set up by Palpatine. They have not."

"We shall do what you order until the end." Crisis beat his fist into his armored chest.

"Good. Good. First thing first. Return to the location of the three other Resurgents and finish them off with torpedo attacks. Their wrecks cannot be used against us."

"Of course, Admiral." Crisis agreed, and though he hadn't heard from Captain Setrauss in hours, fearing he had lost four Captains along with their ships today, he was aware that rescue operations were winding down only due to the fact that nearly every Space Force vessel was filled to the brim with refugees from the downed ships. Tough choices had to be made and some of the ships' crews were going to have to be left behind to perish for the glory of the First Order and final victory.

"Once that is complete, I want you to return here to the Kafrene System. But not at lightspeed. I want a meandering sublight retreat so that we can draw Admiral Banjeer in. You discovered a mine field at the border and mapped a path through said barrier. When you reach it again, I want you to slowly send a single ship at a time through the obstacle. Banjeer will see that he has you pinned against it and rush in to finish you off." Jehtran explained.

"At which point you will be waiting on the other side of the mine field to spring your own trap?" Akfar cheerfully realized, suddenly encouraged by the opportunity to reverse his luck.

"Of course, Mizery has already set sail to draw off our suspected cloaked snoop and I will depart with the Fatalizer within the hour. We shall bring up the bulk of our force to the gap in the Almuhit and begin mapping access points through the mine field. The more we find before you arrive the more ships we can bring to bear on Admiral Banjeer. Is it true, Commander Calatran reported two Imperial I-class Star Destroyers put out of action?"

"Yes, sir. Just before he fell in the last assault from the Hatred." Crisis confirmed.

"That would leave only one heavy ship left. The Quill I assume." Jethran smiled hungrily.

Underneath his aurodium helmet, Crisis returned the grin. Once the Quill was dispatched the Main Fleet would lead the Invasion Fleet to Target Alexandria. Even with four Resurgents destroyed the battle plan could still be salvaged.

"We will begin operations to conform to your orders immediately, sir." Crisis saluted.

"We shall be waiting on the other side, General." The Admiral returned his salute and then in unison the two officers vowed, "First Order, then peace."

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Helm Station, Command Bridge Eiffel-class cruiser, Lady Liberty

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Senior Chief Devon rubbed his tired eyes with his left hand as the right swept over the vast array of thruster controls on the console in front of him. He had been awake and at his station for over twenty-four hours along with every other Guardian aboard the large cruiser.

The size and length of two early-century aircraft carriers, the Lady Liberty was a small city unto itself and staffed by a crew of nearly twenty-two thousand Space Force Guardians that serviced everything its officers and crew would need for long-distance space-travel. Unfortunately, a small supply of cocaine was not thought of as essential, and Devon had to be content with at least a dozen mugs of coffee surging through his system while he fought off the siren-call of sleep.

The bridge was located atop a high tower that tapered down towards a cylindrical hull with a pointed bow. The ship bristled with dozens of guns and blasters. Energy shockwaves rippled across the warship's shields as small pieces of debris from the Hatred drifted into the ship. As large as the Lady Liberty was, she was dwarfed compared to the two Maxima A heavy cruisers of the First Order's 7th Fleet of Conquest and twice again by the immense span of the four Resurgent Star Destroyers that had accompanied the Space Force vessels on their latest advance. Now all four of those behemoths drifted broken and burnt out across the local system.

Their loss emphasized just how vulnerable the Lady Liberty was to the Imperial enemy. The CEN Space Force had won every battle, but the Imperial Navy had just given them a fair example of what happened when one grew too cocky.

Chief Devon couldn't believe it had only been ten hours since the Resurgents had launched their attack against one of the local planets. He didn't know much about it, except high command and intelligence officers called it Target Alexandria when they thought the lower ratings were out of earshot. Secrets were hard to keep on a ship this size and everyone soon knew they were knocking on the door of Nal Kuat, the very home of the Empress's Star Destroyers.

The Captain stood over the nearby Weapon's Station and directed the firing of a pair of heavy proton torpedoes into the flaming wreckage of the Hatred. Devon figured out that they must be about to retreat, and Admiral Akfar didn't want the large pieces of the Resurgent falling into enemy hands. Several of the weapons were nuclear and would irradiate the durasteel and make it impossible to salvage for some time.

Had they really been defeated, Devon wondered? As far as he could tell, no Space Force ship had suffered much damage other than near misses and strafes from phaser bolts. It must be their allied aliens' fault, he decided. No one really trusted the First Order. They were near copies of Imperials anyway. Sure, they had shown up nearly a year and a half ago and given the plans for such ships as the Lady Liberty to President Harris on a silver platter, but other than their initial strike on Nal Kuat what else had they done? Space Force had taken the Bloodstripe Run without their help and look what happened once they did a joint mission with the filthy aliens. The other aliens smashed their nose in.

Devon blinked his bloodshot eyes several times. Nearly all crewmen close to him were fighting off yawns, drinking coffee or popping energy pills. The Senior Chief yearned for the showers and then his bunk.

It had been a long day. They had been at their stations since they left Kafrene Outpost. There had been that incident with the Ragnarok striking a mine and they had to creep into the Kuat System. They had a small break while the Resurgents hit the Imperial base on whatever planet they were prepping for invasion, but then had to fend off wave after wave from dive-bombing bombers and torpedo carriers. Devon had cheered along with the rest of the crew when the Lady Liberty's forward rail gun took down a TIE/sa, but like everyone else, they had never seen the attack coming from below until it was too late.

The first inkling they had to any danger was when three Resurgents were suddenly rippled with explosions. Even if it was aliens killing aliens, the shock of losing three such massive battlewagons was nearly paralyzing throughout the fleet. Space Force rescue efforts began almost immediately but it was evident that they'd never get all of them off in time; nor would they have room for them all. Shuttles could only get off twenty at a time and Revenge corvettes could only hold a hundred survivors in their crowded little ships. The Lady Liberty had nearly seven thousand survivors from the Sinister, oddly the First Order had insisted on getting their healthy off before their wounded and left thousands of their heavily wounded behind on the ruptured hulks. But why would one expect empathy from aliens, Devon wondered?

The Lady Liberty had drawn up in a line behind the Eiffel, the flagship of Space Force, while ahead of their sister ship cruised the One Piece, the Kakeguiri and finally at the lead the massive cruiser Heave. Each of them was now blacked out. Their lights turned out to make it tougher for the Imperial bombers when they came back. And why wouldn't they? Devon didn't know the score, but he was keeping tabs of the diminished patrols of X-1s over the fleet. He hadn't seen an A-1 or a First Order TIE since the Hatred had been crippled. Worry and fear were only amplified by his weariness.

He heard a muffled droning as his heavy eyelids drifted downwards. The sound did not sound important as taking another sip of coffee. He looked over at his mug and couldn't remember how it had emptied so fast. Had he swallowed the last pour in a single gulp, he wondered?

"Senior Chief, wake the hell up, god dammit!" The Captain's scream tore his attention away from his beverage and onto his console. Across his hyper-optic touchscreen, a dozen warning alarms were sounding out. He looked forward towards the bridge's main portal.

The massive aft thruster of the Eiffel was nearing the bow of the Lady Liberty. The four ships ahead of them had turned on orders from the Heave to return to the three wrecks from earlier. Heave had sent visual signals to maintain radio silence and Lady Liberty at the rear of the column had not seen them.

The Eiffel's navigator and helmsmen also saw the impending collision but over-reacted and turned much more sharply than they had originally intended. The Captain shouted again, "Hard port thruster! Full astern!"

But it was too late. Lady Liberty crunched into Eiffel's port side aft of the superstructure, crushing the victim's port thruster and stern from the captain's cabin aft and bending it to port. The damage reduced the Eiffel's speed and seriously impeded her steering. Aboard the Lady Liberty the collision punctured one of her sublight fuel storage tanks on her starboard side. The resulting heavy leakage left a trail of fuel, making the cruiser's course all too visible to any Imperial TIE which might visit the area.

Chief Devon was horrified and could feel every eye on the bridge boring into him. To perform such an embarrassment through a steerage error, and under the watch of not only Admiral Akfar but the First Order as well. Worse, they could claim their alien ships had been damaged by enemy action and not human negligence.

Lady Liberty's damage control parties sped forward and found the fore station crew at a loss of what to do. Their digital diagnosis equipment was empty of solutions for a gaping hole in the front of the ship knocking so many systems offline. They finally decided to block off any section exposed to vacuum and started to reboot as many alarm and monitoring systems as rapidly as they could. They patched up the holes in the compartment next to the damaged one and started to repressurize damaged areas. The Captain, concerned more about preventing escalation of damages over engaging the enemy, ordered all possible explosives and inflammables jettisoned, including the seismic mines and tibanna storage tanks. He even launched the proton torpedoes over the protests of Captain Bratt of the Kleanse speaking on behalf of the Fleet Commander. When the damage control parties had finished their work, the ship went back to full power, but could only limp rimward at twelve thousand knots and couldn't risk a hyperjump.

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FOS Kleanse

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The fleet had slithered off to the location of the Assaulter, Sinister and Kill wrecks once they had finished off the Hatred. When they had returned to the site, they had found thousands of life pods floating in the area crammed full of marooned First Order sailors. There were so many that they threatened to swamp the rescue vessels hauling them in. Some of the ships were so full they had to wrangle some of the larger life pods with their tractor beams and towed them along. The frustrating part of the operation was that for every pod they brought aboard one of the flotilla's ships, two or three were left behind.

General Crisis and his officers were directing the destruction of the three wrecks. Once more ripping them apart with proton torpedoes and irradiating them with nuclear weapons supplied by Space Force.

When Akfar had learned of the collision, he wanted to turn back the entire fleet to go to the rescue. Discovering that the Lady Liberty's captain was still coaxing some speed from the heavy cruiser, Akfar decided to leave the Eiffel, his own flagship, along with the Revenge corvettes El Alamein and Las Vegas to escort the stricken vessel.

Then, after assuring the destruction of the three Resurgents, the Admiral hustled the survivors of the combined fleet rimward towards the border mine field to rendezvous with Jethran's waiting ambush.

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Fighter Five

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The nine surviving TIE Interceptors of the Flood's fighter squadron flew slowly towards the last reported sight of the enemy fleet. Their numbers had been whittled down due to combat losses and maintenance issues. After the abandonment of the Flood they were quickly reassigned to the Slash, where their fighters were once more refueled and rearmed. Strikeout had been thrown a piping hot Bith bean and houjix cheese burrito, several vials of stims and a thermos of caf from the ship's mess. Her shebs hurt from sitting in a cockpit for so long.

Behind them flew sixty-five dive bombers and torpedo carriers. Freshly rearmed after their successful attack on the last Resurgent believed to be in the system. There were rumors and spotty sighting reports from the TIE/WAC Herf hinting at a fifth Resurgent in the area and they had been sent out by Admiral Banjeer to confirm and dispatch it.

"Sandtusker, I'm getting a pretty hot reading on rad sensors. It's located in the suspected target zone." Vyvya reported over the squadron channel. Strikeout checked her own sensors to locate what her panelman had spotted. Sure enough a large radiation field was drawing in the Imperial assault force like moon moths to a lamp.

The Hatred could be seen from almost thirty thousand kilometers out. The fires that blazed among her exposed decks were fueled by leaking hypermatter which allowed the conflagration to still burn in a vacuum.

The attack wing arrived quickly over the sight of the burning Resurgent. It was the only warship in the vicinity. Strikeout had seen the Ares a few times but always from a distance or while it had been in orbit. And while she had earlier seen four of the beasts in hurried combat only hours before, it did little to prepare her for the sheer size of the destroyed warship in front of her. The Resurgent, still unidentified for the Imperial pilots at this time, had been cut in two with a large section of its bow drifting ahead of the remainder of its bulk. Nearly twice as long and a third as wide as an Imperial I class Star Destroyer, enough durasteel had been poured into its construction to make two of her Imperial counterparts.

Great holes had been torn in her sides, large enough to drive an AT-AT into. Most of the damage had been caused when the retreating enemy had attempted to scuttle her with their own torpedoes and their work was marred with heavy radiation signatures. It would take a year minimum for the Empire's radtroopers to decontaminate and scrub the wreckage clean. Time that might be spent on better projects for ending the war. Despite the finishing damage it was still quite evident where the crippling blows had landed on her from the TIE/sa squadrons. They had done their duty well today, four times over and they took a moment to circle the wreckage several times and admire their own handiwork.

"Fierfek." Strikeout swore softly, imagining what four of these brutes would have done if they had reached New Thyfeeria. The Vratix species would have been annihilated from orbit. One of them could Base Delta Zero a world but four of them would have scoured it to its core. They had held six of the massive ships back at Nal Kuat in favor of TIE attacks but even so, Strikeout feared they could go toe-to-toe with the massive cannons attached to the Kuantus Ring if they wanted to. Stang the First Order and whichever of the Nine Hells they came from. They had made the Empire tremble, well now it was their turn to feel what true fear felt like.

In the void around the ship drifted dozens of life pods which still showed signs of life aboard them. Strikeout listened with growing disappointment as Sandtusker hyperwaved their locations back to the fleet for pick up. She assumed they'd be treasure troves for FleetIntel but she considered the fleet would get just as much use out of them if they allowed the Interceptors to use them for target practice.

"Sandtusker, this is Wampa." Fighter One's Wing Commander, a veteran of the last war, hyperwaved over the command channel. "My guys are picking up a large hypermatter trail leading rimward."

"Wampa, I thought we only hit the First Order heavies." Sandtusker replied back.

"A few bombers peeled off and made attack runs on several of the escorts. Somebody must have gotten lucky. We're going to check it out. You Fourth and Fifth bucketheads are welcome to tag along." Wampa invited them on a task that may provide an interesting pay out or a boring trip along the empty back-rocket regain of the Kuat System.

"We'll follow your lead, Commander." Sandtusker agreed and then to the rest of Fighter and Bomber Five. "All Five elements on me."

Strikeout and Vyvya took up places at the front of the formation. They were still behind the Wing One squadrons off the Quill but in a good spot to get the jump on any airspeeders that showed up. The trail itself wasn't hard to follow even without sensors. It consisted of a wispy gaseous river with small fist-sized globules of phosphorescent.

It took them forty-five more minutes of flying until four vague shapes appeared in the distance. As they closed the forms started to differentiate between two smaller corvettes and two larger warships. The two bigger ones showed clear signs of damage. Sandtusker's excited voice erupted on the comms. "Shavit! Those are Eiffels."

The big Eiffels, based on Separatist Providence class Dreadnaughts, had been the muscle for the Confederacy's spearhead advance down the Bloodstripe Run. They had decimated an Imperial fleet of Venators at Plympto Blight and as far as Strikeout was aware, no one had ever scratched one, let alone brought one of them down. Her eyes narrowed as the details of the targets came into view, she knew their untouched streak was about to run out.

Wampa split the TIEs of his attack group in two and sent them after the further of the two targets. That one looked the most undamaged except for some bent thrusters while her sister looked as if someone had kicked her nose in. Sandtusker hyperwaved back to Admiral Banjeer and the rest of the fleet. "Sighted two Eiffels bearing two six four, distance one two five thousand klicks, speed .15 sublight. Ships damaged, streaming hypermatter."

Wampa led his bombers in a climb approach on the further target from ten kilometers out, twisting and turning to avoid the cruiser's heavy anti-airspeeder blasts. This portion of the attack was a total loss for both sides with no bomb hits and zero TIEs blasted down.

The Quill's second group were a few seconds behind Wampa. Its leader led his flight of TIE/sa into a glide from four kilometers through heavy flak. Zooming out of Tau Ceti, the flight leader's engine began smoking from a hit in the middle of his dive. As he started to pull out, his TIE burst into flames. It appeared to Strikeout, through accident or design, that the flight leader crashed his fiery bomber into the Eiffel's aft turret. The ensuing blaze was sucked into the heat exhaust port of the starboard engine room, where it ignited gas fumes and killed forty of the engineering crew.

Now it was the orphans from the Flood's turn. Sandtusker directed Fighter Five to distract the Confederate gunners while Bomber Five made their runs. They split up to attack the enemy from various sides but unlike their Quill counterparts they focused all of their attention on the more obviously damaged of the two Eiffels, the one with the smashed-in bow.

The heavy cruiser quickly took two bomb hits, one of which killed every Earthling in Turbolaser Turret Number 3. The other struck amidships, damaging the torpedo tubes. The hit should have started a reaction that would have destroyed the ship but the Space Force Captain's quick thinking in dumping his torpedoes after the collision saved them. The damage, impressive as to hits but relatively minor in results, cost Bomber Five one TIE/sa and its crew shot down by anti-airspeeder fire.

Next Slash's bombers tried their luck. Her thirty-one surviving TIE/sa was the largest surviving group of assault craft left in Admiral Banjeer's task force and again they zeroed in on the wounded Eiffel. To Strikeout's chagrin the last round of bombing was the most accurate she had ever seen. The Slash's bucketheads embarrassed their Quill and Flood counterparts with their luck and precision and made it look easy. Indeed, with no deadly enemy TIEs or X-Wings to contend with, the Imperials had everything pretty much their own way.

Strikeout turned her com channel over to the Slash's assault squadron signal and listened with the liveliest appreciation to the other pilot's interchanges, as bomb hits rocked the crippled cruiser.

"Look at that sleemo burn!"

"Hit that son of a bishwag again!"

"Let's hit them all!"

"Your bomb hit them on their bridge! Best drop of the war!"

"Let's get those two corvettes!"

"These Solars are as easy as shooting mynocks in a barrel!"

Then the comment struck a plaintive tone. "Dank ferric, I wish I had just one more bomb." And another attacker, evidently having little trouble with the enemy's anti-airspeeder bolts, observed scornfully. "These Confeds couldn't hit you with an energy bow."

The flight leader then let out an exultant shout, "Harris, you scum, send out the rest and we'll get those too."

The banter got a laugh out of Strikeout, but she had to remain focused on the mission and switched back to her own squadron's channel. As she scanned the Void for uninvited enemy interlopers, she wondered what was happening on the slowing and burning Eiffel cruiser nearby.

The first energy bomb had plunged through the crippled ship's near empty X-Wing Hangar, now crammed with wounded from the Resurgents and started a raging fire. It made hell out of the make-shift sick bay, for the Confederate medical orderlies and attendants were either killed or wounded, so that those patients not killed outright were left unattended as fires closed in. In spite of all the fire-fighting foam Lady Liberty's damage control spacemen could pour onto the conflagration, the flames threatened to spread out of control. At last, the Captain had to accept the terrible responsibility for ordering the entire damaged compartment sealed off and defenestrated to kill the fire and the hundreds of trapped wounded.

The hapless Lady Liberty reeled under another five direct hits which struck her forecastle, amidships and in the bridge area, killing most of her command crew, including Senior Chief Devon. He was killed when the strike set off a number of anti-airspeeder bolts on deck ready for blasting and damaged the bridge structure, narrowly keeping it attached to the rest of the ship. Meanwhile the forecastle hit knocked out the forward turrets.

Although damaged as well, the Eiffel was able to assist the corvette pair in rescuing nearly three thousand personnel from the slowly imploding Lady Liberty. More Earthlings donned spacesuits and jumped into airlocks to be blasted into space in the hopes for a rescue or took to short range life pods that the corvette captains secured to their own hulls by means of magnetic clamps.

But they had to break off their work of mercy as the Imperials circled around for another attack run, leaving thousands behind on the doomed Lady Liberty or drifting freely in space. Under the renewed assault the durasteel armor of the cruiser was peppered in dozens of locations, and once again hypermatter leaks set off a large fire that crept along the outside of the wrecked hull.

Strikeout flew back in a bloodthirsty mood. She had always been slightly sensitive and unusually attached to her friends and shipmates and suffered when she had seen the shape the Flood had been left in. She had told herself that if she saw any surviving enemy in the Void, she would strafe them as the Confederates and First Order had done to Imperial sailors in similar circumstances. But when confronted with the actuality, she could not carry out her stern intent. About four to five thousand beings were in the Void, and Strikeout's courage waned, and she couldn't make herself open up on them. Vyvya followed her lead and kept his own cannons silent.

Sandtusker and Wampa both hyperwaved back to the task force, who responded that the Admiral was dispatching a pair of old Carracks to pick up as many prisoners as they could. It was too risky to bring forward the bigger ships of the battle fleet while they were unaware of where the major portion of the enemy's combined fleet had disappeared to.

Strikeout followed her squadron as they circled the destroyed cruiser. Her partner had fled rimward with the two corvettes as soon as they saw their sister's cause was lost. Strikeout commed Vyvya, flying along beside her. "Boy, I sure would hate to be in the shoes of those fellows free-floating out there. Those suits only have a couple hours of power. I shouldn't feel so sorry for them, because we might be in their shoes someday."

Vyvya always had a way of cheering her up when she needed to be and, with some levity, responded, "I'll enjoy watching the holodrama of this when I'm sitting by the fireside and haven't the ambition to go out and repeat the performance."

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INS Yutu

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"It's good to see you're still alive and in one piece, Captain." Admiral Banjeer greeted the commander of the Flood when the man reported before him on the bridge of the Arquitens cruiser now serving as his headquarters.

"Believe me, Admiral, it's absolutely wizard to be alive and in one piece after having my ship bombed and then torpedoed out from under me." Captain Isoto shared a tired grin with his fleet commander.

"I've sent word back to FleetCom. Gentis is dispatching two tractor beam tugs from Nal Kuat. They should arrive in a few hours." Banjeer said.

"That's good. I've got the Actuater alongside now. Her crew has run over power and pressure hoses to the Flood and I've got a damage inspection team back aboard as we speak." Isoto reported.

"Excellent. What is it like over there?"

"I've got about eighty-five percent of my KX droids still aboard. By the Light Side, they proved their worth. The only ones I lost were the ones in sections that were directly hit. The stang things aren't affected by smoke, fire, zero-g or vacuum. After they helped get the sentient crew off they went right back to work repairing holes the kriffing First Order drilled into her. I'd say the Fleet Admiral's little sailor-droid experiment paid off." Isoto reported. It had been Gentis's original idea to cut down the number of sailors that crewed Imperial ships by replacing them with the KX-series droids. The things could do the work of several sentient sailors, and neither the First Order nor the Confederacy of Earth Nations had anything similar. The only thing that rankled most officers was it stunk of the infamous practices of the Separatist Navy which had been manned almost entirely by droids. The Imperial Navy would never get to that point, but it was a considerable advantage.

"That's stupendous. If we get her back to vacuum dock, they might be able to repair and refit her at Nal Kuat." Banjeer suggested and hoped he was right. Worse case they scrapped her for her valuable durasteel.

"As long as they don't kit her into one of those Quasar Fires like the wrecks from Bombardment Squadron 1. There's still a place for heavy blasters in the Galaxy." Isoto argued, which Banjeer couldn't quite disagree with, even after his three TIE wings had smashed four heavily armored Resurgent Star Destroyers in the space of half a day. "Any word on my wounded?"

Banjeer could see the look of concern in the Captain's eyes and he felt for him. Those sailors and troopers had died or been wounded following his own orders. "They've been dispatched to New Thyfeeria. Moff Tanax has made her premier medical facility in XXhenon City available to them. She insisted and threatened to take it up with Minister Saria if the Fleet Admiral objected."

"Why would he? Tanax has the largest supply of bacta in the Milky Way. Once I get the Flood back to Nal Kuat I'd like to visit my crew as soon as possible." Isoto requested.

Banjeer nodded. He gazed past the naval officer out towards the heavy damage that pockmarked and gaped openly from the torn sides of the nearby Star Destroyer. "I'm sure something could be arranged. The Flood is going to be tied up for repairs for a long time."

"What news of the enemy, sir?" Isoto asked. He had been busy trying to save his ship for the past couple of hours, so his lack of current operational awareness was to be understood.

"They've pulled back some. They're rimward of us now towards the gap in the Almuhit. They're still under observation by the Herf, which is reporting that they're edging pretty slowly through our ion mine belts back into the Kafrene System." Banjeer informed Isoto.

"I assume the Slash and Quill are moving to intercept?" Isoto asked.

"I have no use for futile heroics and do not care to invite another engagement with half my original TIE crews. The enemy has vastly superior forces in the Kafrene that they can easily bring to bear. My pilots and escort crews are near exhaustion, and I do not have enough to screen another attack like New Thyfeeria faced this morning." Banjeer explained.

"But, sir, Admiral Vertitas would . . ." Isoto stopped himself. It was the wrong tact to take with Banjeer.

"My mission was never to chase a mortally wounded enemy task force. I was ordered to protect New Thyfeeria, and if the enemy brings in another fleet that is where they will head. We are headed there now to rejoin our Star Destroyers that I've already dispatched there. I want you to return in your shuttle and oversee the tow back to Nal Kuat of the Flood. I'm leaving you two Raiders, the Actuater and the Fomenter. They should be sufficient protection for the short journey." Banjeer laid out his instructions.

Isoto nodded in understanding. After all, just because they had set a beautiful trap for the enemy to stumble into today, that didn't mean the enemy couldn't just as easily turn the tables on them. They still had a pretty large navy out there somewhere.

"While you're waiting at New Thyfeeria what you are going to do next, Admiral?" Isoto asked.

"I'm going to bed." Banjeer replied matter-of-factly.

Isoto blinked several times, not sure if he heard his commander correctly. "Sir?"

"I've already stood down first and second watches throughout the task force and the Star Destroyers have brought the TIEs back aboard. I have good officers with me. You're one of them. And you all know your jobs well and can carry on. Why should I not sleep soundly?"

"You are correct, sir. It's been a long day for all of us." Isoto admitted.

"Indeed. Get some sleep yourself once the Flood is underway back to Nal Kuat. A mind that suffers from lack of rest is not likely to be clear and have good judgement."

Banjeer dismissed the ship captain with a salute and Isoto headed back to his shuttle. The Admiral told the Yutu's captain to wake him if anything important happened and left the bridge for his temporary cabin. As soon as his head hit the pillow of his sleeper he was out like a lamp.

Would Vertitas have slept at a time like this, or would he have pursued the escaping enemy fleet, who knows? Who but Admiral Banjeer, the old warhorse 'Tusken', could drift into peaceful slumber while stalking the enemy fleet through the late watch with a pared down task force?

He'd already accomplished his mission beyond the wildest dreams of everyone in the Empire.

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FOS Kleanse

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"They're not coming." General Crisis swore to Captain Bratt. He wanted to take off his helmet and spit his disgust out onto the deck of the heavy cruiser.

The Kleanse and Heave stood to as two guardians marking the open path through the ion minefield. Their heavy turbolasers occasionally blasted any of the traps that drifted too close to the retreating fleet. The remnants of the combined strike force slowly sailed through the open lane between them. Only a handful of ships remained on this side of the gap. To the General's disgust, every one of those ships was a Space Force vessel packed with survivors from the doomed attack on Target Alexandria. The twin Maxima A heavy cruisers were the only First Order vessels to return from the Kuat System.

"Are you sure, General? Perhaps if we gave them more time." Captain Bratt of the Kleanse suggested.

"We've been under observation by one of their spy TIEs for some time. We've tolerated it only because Admiral Jethran wants this Banjeer to know our position. But our enemy seems content nipping at our heels rather than fighting us face to face." Crisis pointed at three stragglers approaching the exit.

The Eiffel slowly advanced towards the heavy cruisers. Carbon scoring and blast damage testified to the rough time it had in escaping the Imperials. Admiral Akfar's Rhino Beetle shuttle raced away from the Kleanse towards his flagship. The Earthling and his officers had been most eager to return to the fold of their planetary brethren rather than continue to face the accusatory stares of Crisis and the First Order.

"To imagine, the Empire afraid to come out and fight. How the mighty have fallen." Bratt suggested.

"They did not go through the cleansing after Jakku like our forebears did. They still have a weak streak inherent in their DNA." Crisis considered his opponent. If what he said was true and they really were afraid to pursue and fall into Jethran's trap, then how did they conceive such a brilliant strategy of their own that had eviscerated four Resurgents in a single day? He did not recall any of the Imperial TIE pilots faltering in their near-suicidal attacks during the battle, either.

"To think it was their kind that lost at Endor and cost us Palpatine the first time around." Bratt said quietly and then looked about. It was still not commonly known that the Emperor had returned and called them to Exegol before they had fallen into that strange long hyperjump that had dumped them into the Milky Way.

"No doubt it will lead to their eventual downfall. Today only set their defeat back for what . . . a few months, maybe a year? But, so what, there is no visible path to victory for the Empire." Crisis said, thinking his words rang hollow as images of the burning Assaulter filled his mind. They would not be so brash as to follow an Earthling into the next battle. They would need to face the Empire on their own terms.

"We are being hailed by the Fatalizer." The Bridge Commander told the two officers.

"Put it through on the main imagecaster." Bratt told his subordinate.

Admiral Jethran's blue hologram splayed out at the front of the bridge. General Crisis faced off across from his commander. "Admiral. Most of my fleet is through the mine field. We have seen no sign of pursuit by Imperial forces."

"Without knowledge of the Ares whereabouts I cannot in good conscience renew the attack on Target Alexandria. Notify Admiral Akfar and all of your fleet elements that Operation Matchstick is hereby postponed until further notice." Jethran ordered.

"Understood, sir. Will we be returning to Titan?" Crisis asked.

"I'm leaving some of the 7th's ships at Kafrene Outpost, including the Mizery to discourage Imperial advance. I suggest you accompany me back to the Sol System to tell our side of the story before Akfar can persuade Harris that he was actually worthwhile on the battlefield."

Crisis smiled at that. Akfar's indecisiveness had gone a long way towards eroding the combined fleet's advantages away. If Harris had the man hung . . . well, it couldn't happen to a nicer officer, in Crisis's opinion.

"And the Supreme Leader?" Crisis inquired.

This time Admiral Jethran looked visibly perturbed. If the hologram didn't hide it, Crisis could have sworn the Admiral had broken out in a cold sweat. "I will take full responsibility for the outcome of today's battle. She will hopefully understand that today was a setback, but the Kuat System will be our eventual stronghold. As far as I can tell it will take one or two more battles to bring it under our control."

"Excellent, Admiral. Then we are midway to bringing peace, under our terms, to a new Galaxy."

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CENN Ragnarok, Kuat System

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Captain Mallory and the crew of the Ragnarok had the sinking feeling they had missed the whole show. It had taken them seven hours to replace the blown power converters that had been destroyed when they had struck an Imperial ion mine. Their unfortunate tripping of the booby trap had saved the fleet from blundering into the same predicament on the eve of their invasion of Target Alexandria.

Mallory would be the first to admit it had stung a bit to watch the fleet sail on without them, especially after they had been ordered to give up their two X-1s which were their only means of protection and scouting. It was understood that an entire battle group couldn't put itself in danger by sticking around to assist one small ship on the edge of Imperial controlled space, and the small corvette was left to make repairs on its own.

The Ranger-turned-Captain was proud of the superhuman level of work his crew undertook in getting the corvette back up and sailing once again. All hands, from the mess steward to the Captain himself, pitched in to make the repairs and reboot major systems, including the shields, sensors and radar-tracking weapons.

Advised by his engineering crew not to push the engines too hard until they could be looked at back in port, Mallory had chased after the fleet at a sluggish .03 sublight. His only inkling that battle had commenced were a rapid fleet alert that Target Alexandria had been struck followed by several hours of intercepted communication signals from his fellow Space Force vessels and encrypted bursts of static from First Order and Imperial sources. At one point his sensors had picked up a large Imperial bomber force stalking them as they attempted to close with Akfar's forces. The ETs seemed more intent on following them for several minutes rather than attacking and after about fifteen minutes passed the little corvette by and raced off to parts unknown.

The crew of the Ragnarok had been shaken to their core when they discovered the massive debris field surrounding three broken and burning Resurgents. Cries for help and assistance filled the hyperwave channels as hundreds of life pods drifted aimlessly about the area. The Ragnarok was ill-equipped to even begin rescue operations. When the Ragnarok contacted the Eiffel to inform them of the situation, the large cruiser replied that they were well aware of the situation but that they had their hands full protecting the Hatred, which was about to launch an attack against an unknown number of Imperial Star Destroyers. The Ragnarok was then ordered to proceed to the fleet's current location and rejoin them as quickly as possible.

Not wanting to worsen the damage the Ragnarok's power converters had undertaken from the ion mine, Mallory had ordered the Ragnarok to take it slow, figuring the larger ships of the fleet had the situation well in hand. The ship had developed a slight but noticeable vibration whenever they approached .04 sublight, and though his engineers had run several diagnosis checks saying it probably wouldn't happen, he didn't want the problem transferring over to his hyperdrive and marooning them in the Kuat System with no escape. Besides they were listed as an escort for the combined fleet, one of twenty corvettes ordered to accompany the latest advance. What would it matter if they took a few more hours to reach their destination as long as they reached it in one piece?

Evidently, it meant more than Mallory initially realized. By the time they reached their destination the only thing awaiting them was the still simmering pieces of the Hatred. Emergency beacons from dozens of life pods hailed them, but as the corvette moved in to rescue stranded survivors new subspace contacts were reported. Imperial ships were on their way to their location, most probably to scoop up a host of prisoners for their intelligence services to get their hooks into.

"We ought to fire on some of the larger life pods, Captain. Just to keep them out of the Imps hands." Commander Romero suggested.

"Rather bloodthirsty, Commander. I wouldn't lose any sleep over losing some more of those stuck up First Order officers, but I'll be damned if I'm going to risk a single man of my own." Mallory said, before turning to his sailors. "Helm take us around on course three-five-five, up bubble thirty degrees. Make a course for that dust cloud spilling out of the Almuhit. Comms see if we can make contact with fleet and find out what they want us to do next."

"Captain, we are receiving a recall order from the Kleanse. It has Admiral Akfar's authentication code attached." The communication officer relayed.

"Where is the Kleanse?" Romano asked the junior officer.

"Bearing back on originator course. It appears as if they're back at the mine field barrier." The officer replied.

"A retreat." Mallory sighed as he watched the wreckage of the Hatred retreat from their sensors. If they had lost the four Resurgents then it made some sense. The First Order heavies carried the vast bulk of their air power, and failing that, their phasers were the obvious choice in subduing a planet from orbit like the Empire had done twenty years ago back over Earth. Mallory wondered just how the Empire had taken them out and what they still had waiting out there for them.

They entered the crowded, dusty expanse at the very edge of the Almuhit Maelstrom and were immediately surrounded by particles as fine as sand that pummeled the ship's energy shield. Mallory set a course along the thinner border of the Almuhit towards the exit of the Kuat System. The Ragnarok's speed was set at a sluggish .01 sublight. Extra watches were set at each sensor station and everyone not on duty was encouraged to remain at a porthole with whatever optic gear they had on hand and keep a sharp lookout for hidden dangers. For as fine as the sandy projectiles were they surrounded a vast field of asteroids that grew larger the deeper in the Almuhit one travelled. The corvette squeezed between rocky obstacles the size of eighteen wheelers and double decker buses and darted from ones the size of the old Empire State building and around ones half the size of Mount Everest. Their slow methodical voyage carried them away from the Imperials picking over the bones of the Hatred. The next six hours were nail-bitingly nerve-racking, but necessary.

It was at this time that two things occurred. The first was a distant recall order sent from Kafrene Outpost. The combined fleet was in retreat and Mallory and his crew soon realized they were the only Confederate unit that still remained in the Kuat System. They were the furthest humans from Earth at the moment. They were behind enemy lines in the most heavily protected enemy sector along the Bloodstripe Run, with a partially damaged sublight and a jerry-rigged main power converter. The second thing that occurred was . . . they spotted something.

"Duracomp Scanner is picking up a large bogey about two thousand kilometers out at one-seven-zero degrees.' A sailor reported.

"Got it on subspace." Romano added. "Matching the size and shape of an Imperial I-class Star Destroyer. It's advancing to pass us to port but damn if it's not moving slower than anything I've ever seen from the Imps. It looks like it's doing under a hundred knots an hour."

"Shit. It must be looking for us." Mallory swore. "Helm, bring us into that field of asteroids on our port beam and match their drift. Brace for cold running."

"Brace for cold running. Shut everything down!" Commander Romano snapped at the crew to carry out his captain's orders.

The helmsmen guided the corvette among the nearby asteroids and reversed the thrusters to match their speed and course. They were still on the very edge of the maelstrom and some of the asteroids in their vicinity were the size of skyscrapers and cruise ships. Hiding among them gave them a good vantage point in the vacant space-ways of the Kuat System.

The crew of the Ragnarok cut the power to every system they could. The Empire had some of the most sophisticated sensors in the Galaxy but the Earthlings weren't going to make it easy for them. The lights went out, pitching the interior of the ship in the soft green glow of fluorescent chemical lights. Life support shut down as the sailors donned their space suits and magnetized their boots to remain stuck to the deck as the anti-grav inertia dampers wound down. As they did so, every loose bit of particle debris from dust and trash to pens and eyeglasses started to float around the bridge. A sailor went around gathering it all into a trash bag so that none of it would be in the way. Mallory spoke with his bridge crew through his helmet which caused conversations to echo as if he were at the bottom of a swimming pool. The only heat came from the reactor as the engine was powered off, yet still many of the crew broke out their parkas from the winter gear bins and wore them over their spacesuits for a miniscule amount of more warmth.

"Lookouts to their posts." Mallory ordered. This time his commands passed by word of mouth through the ship. "Helm, I want you on pressurized thrusters only. Do not let them draw a bead on us. Weapons, open the torpedo doors and get me a manual lock. Do not turn on the passive aim-bots."

"Are you going to do this yourself, Captain? Like some sort of old-school U-boat skipper?" Romano chuckled.

"Going cold is the only way to get a ship like ours under their sensors and close enough to land a shot that has a chance of getting through the shields and armor on one of those bastards." Mallory reminded him. Getting in close might not be the problem if the Imperials didn't search the asteroid field too closely, he thought, getting out again afterwards would be a whole other story.

"Captain, you're not going to believe this." The ship's quartermaster had brought along his telescope when they left Earth and now had it set up on the right side of the bridge's canopy window. He had been watching for the approach of the bogey ever since they had detected it and hid for the past two hours.

Romano was closest to the Quartermaster and took a quick peep as Mallory clomped over, slowed by his magnetic boots. The Italian officer jerked back and then peered again. "Porco dio!"

Mallory reached for the expensive optical device, a clear sign the Quartermaster was no 3rd classer or below and took a gander. The telescope was trained on the target now as it continued on its steady course. It took a second for Mallory's eyes to focus but as they did, he made out the distinct shape of an Imperial Star Destroyer. Another smaller warship was tucked in along the port side of the vessel with another small ship darting back and forth like a protective pit bull. In front of the Star Destroyer was two craft, which looked like flying tractor beam turrets with thrusters attached, that appeared to be towing the massive Imperial ship, which the longer he studied it, displayed the obvious signs of heavy battle damage across several areas of its hull.

"It's the Flood." Mallory identified the bogey. "What the hell happened to her?"

"Do you think the Resurgents worked her over, Captain? If they went toe-to-toe . . .?" Romano hypothesized.

"No, a single Imperial couldn't have taken out four Resurgents unless the First Order is completely full of shit. Besides that's bomb and torpedo damage. I didn't see the massive amount of carbon scoring as you'd expect if they came under Admiral Jethran's heavy phasers.

"Who would have thought we spent all that money on our navy and it's the little guys in the bombers taking on the big dogs." Romano said.

Mallory turned to his crew. "Bring the officers up here and get the crew to general quarters. What do you all say to this little corvette ripping the throat out of that big dog?"

The crew cheered and pumped their fists in muffled excitement. Since the Battle of Luna six months ago no one had taken down anything as big as an Imperial Star Destroyer. The Guardians hurriedly drifted to their battle stations. Their hands hovering over the power controls, knowing they would need them if that Star Destroyer out there was more battle-worthy than she appeared, she'd spot them the moment they did so. Some of them shook with joy; others shook with tension and anticipation. They had a feeling Operation Matchstick had failed somehow and they might be the only chance to rectify the situation.

Mallory summoned his staff to his wardroom and instructed them to prepare a detailed attack plan. Some of them weren't sure what to make of his intentions. He was certainly going to have the Ragnarok fight in a way in which she hadn't been designed. What he intended to do harkened back a hundred years to chilly Atlantic waters. Mallory had some doubts himself. If he cranked on his sublights the Star Destroyer's escorts would spot him in a heartbeat and with pressure-released thrusters he wasn't positive they could keep up and catch the target, let alone wreck her beyond any hope of repair.

When they returned to the bridge, Romano checked things over in his role as XO. "Attack preparations are complete, Captain."

"Very well. Engineering, release the aft exterior pressure release. Keep us at no more than twenty knots. Navigation, take a spotting estimate and plot us a course to get us into a firing position. Weapons stand by. The rest of you pretend you're an asteroid." Mallory ordered which raised a few smiles among his nervous Guardians.

"I've got a visual." A lookout called out three hours later. Mallory took the lookout's place at the forward canopy and borrowed the woman's binoculars. He shouldn't have bothered. Sure enough at ninety kilometers the Flood, lit by the rays of Tau Ceti, was coming into view by the naked eye. She was still bearing, unaware and disabled, in their direction. Mallory felt joy well up inside him.

"Cut speed to ten knots." Mallory snapped. "Bear to port zero-five."

Romano echoed his commands to the crew and slowly the corvette turned just slightly. Mallory didn't want the corvette to appear as if it were an asteroid on a collision course. He wanted the enemy's escorts to think he would pass harmlessly past, about fifty kilometers from the once mighty Star Destroyer.

The Flood reached a distance of around fifty-five kilometers, within easy range for Space Force's long range proton torpedoes. Mallory had engineering cut their speed to six knots. He hoped the Imperial sailors didn't detect the nearby asteroid changing speed. "Weapons, get your fish ready."

The weapons officer quickly replied. "Just finished our last touches. We just need to activate them and give them five seconds to reheat after being in cold vacuum tubes for so long, Captain."

"Understood. Prime them now." Mallory ordered, hoping the torpedoes coming to life also didn't warn the enemy they were in the neighborhood.

The small escort circling the Star Destroyer came around to the nearest side again. This time, Mallory identified it as one of the newer Raider class ships, about on par with the Ragnarok but with slightly stronger shields. The Ragnarok countered this with almost twice the range on its proton torpedoes. Unfortunately, the ship that was attached to the side of the Flood was also a Raider and she might block some of their weapons from contact with the bigger warship if she was struck instead. Knowing there was nothing he could do about it; Mallory chose not to worry about the problem.

"Enemy sensor scanning is picking up from the escorts." Romano warned as sensor indicators started lighting up on the electronic countermeasure monitor.

"You think they see us?"

"Hard to tell, sir."

"Navigation, I want you to set a new Galactic record in plotting a hyperjump back to Kafrene Outpost as soon as we fire up the NaviComp." Mallory said.

"Aye, aye, sir." Came the tense reply from the Navigation section.

"All hands, prepare for enemy action. Prep the life pods." Mallory nearly whispered; despite the impossibility of any sound they made reaching across the vacuum to their enemy.

Weapons gave him the manual aiming periscope downloaded onto an ipad. Ice from the condensation in their breaths had formed on nearly every surface aboard the corvette. He sat with the device in his captain's chair and slowly moved the aiming reticles ahead of the target. At this distance he would have to carefully lead the target if he wanted successful hits.

In spite of Mallory's efforts, his relative position to the Flood had not improved; it had worsened. What speed was she making, what is her average course? Is solar wind causing her to drift? Mallory asked himself these questions and could reach no satisfactory answers.

To increase his uneasiness, the roving escort crossed and recrossed in front of them, and even unpowered, hand-held sensor alarms were starting to activate throughout the Ragnarok.

Finally, the Flood reached a distance of thirty-five kilometers. He could see great holes in her side and tall robots moving inside her hull, attempting to repair the damage. The Star Destroyer was turning in his direction so that he faced her squarely amidships. The Flood's entire silhouette, bow to stern, was perfectly centered in his sights.

God be with us; Mallory silently said a prayer. So far as many were concerned there was no god in the Confederacy other than President Harris, and they would not have approved of such a prayer, but the President wasn't here right now, and Mallory had been raised to believe in better and bigger things. Both God and Harris were going to love this.

"You got this, sir. Trust in your gut." Romano reassured him. It would be so easy to turn their targeting systems back on-line but that would be as if they shined a giant spotlight on themselves at this distance.

"I can feel it." Mallory admitted. It was as if some sort of strange power was guiding his hand. Was it God? Was it the Force? Was it his gut?

Ragnarok carried eight torpedo tubes. Four in her bow and four astern. Mallory knew he could only rely on the forward missiles; he would have no opportunity to maneuver the corvette into a position to use the aft tubes. So, he determined to make every proton torpedo count. "Ready to fire." He cried, and a few seconds later. "Fire!"

Two torpedoes sped off, with two more following three seconds later. Ordinarily, Mallory would have fired the four on a more spreading course, each at an individual course so that one or two would hit if the others missed, but the feeling in his gut told him he was right on target. So, he sent off both salvos toward the same point for maximum explosive power.

Mallory ripped off his helmet. The air was thin and stale after hours inside his space suit. "They know we're here now. Crank her up. Navigation, get me that course!"

The Raider attached to the Star Destroyer saw the attack coming in and started to pull slowly away from its crippled host. Its weapon systems started to futilely blaze away at the tracks of the proton torpedoes on the chance of exploding the missiles before they reached the target. The first torpedo struck the Raider amidships, the next two passed under the Raider to strike the Flood on her main bow frame, knocking a huge hole in her hull. The fourth torpedo was off target, passing several meters over the top of the Star Destroyer's dorsal armor.

Flood was pierced as deep as her main hanger bay. Her launch racks were pulled free and then sent flying through the warship like a javelin until they embedded with the hypermatter annihilators. All frames connecting the superstructure to the top hull sheared. KX droids were thrown every which way, some overboard completely.

Blasted nearly in half by a strike on her reactor, the Raider, Actuator, ripped apart in twenty seconds. Mallory thought it was a terrible sight from his vantage point aboard the Ragnarok. The Imperial corvette's back was instantly broken by the blast as the ship broke in two. The smaller vessel continued to explode, taking with it all of the lives of its crew. Suddenly, the Raider exploded in a gigantic blue fireball nearly the same size of the Star Destroyer next to it.

"What the hell was that?" Commander Romano gasped.

"She must have been carrying a load of seismic mines aboard. That looks like they all went up at once." Mallory theorized.

"Incoming sonic wave." The Commscan station warned.

"Brace for impact." Mallory warned.

The sonic shockwave from the massive blast hit the Ragnarok like a freight train. The corvette shook like a plane crash, hurling Mallory against the deck, which caught him squarely in the solar plexus, breaking a rib and leaving him so completely breathless he wasn't able to speak for several minutes, leaving Commander Romano to give the orders to save the ship.

"Navigation, where are we on that jump plot?" Romano yelled at the Lieutenant frantically computing their escape route. A Medic rushed onto the bridge to assist the captain and a variety of other injured scattered around the command capsule.

"Momentary, Commander. Trick is aiming for the gap in the Almuhit. It'll tear us apart if we try to ram through it." The harried officer replied.

"Weapons power down. All power to the shields and hyperdrive." Romano ordered. Mallory sat up with the help of the corpsman and looked outside. The Flood was erupting in a series of cataclysmic explosions. Some of them so large they enveloped the small Raider drifting next to her. The other Raider, however, had turned on them and was bearing down on the Ragnarok. Its turbolasers were opening up at long range while its Imperial commander opened up his torpedo tubes in a vengeful plan of retribution against the Ragnarok.

"Captain, we can't deflect an attack of that magnitude." Commander Romano looked over at Mallory who nodded in understanding. He mouthed the words, 'do it.'

"Jump now!" Romano shouted. Fearing the helm was not reacting fast enough, the XO leaped past him and slammed his left fist down on the hyperdrive activator and pushed the acceleration toggles forward.

The stars outside turned to long streaks of light as the burning Imperial vanished from their forward canopy. All the crew lurched in their seats as the inertial dampers hadn't fully come back online yet.

The ship was in lightspeed for the ten-minute jump back to Kafrene Outpost, in which time Mallory was assisted back into his Captain's chair and given a shot of painkillers for his broken rib. He slurred to Romano. "Any bets as to where we will end up, Commander?"

Romano shrugged. "Second star to the right."

Mallory smiled at the Peter Pan reference. "Carry on straight through to morning."

Romano nodded before glancing down at his boots in contemplation. "What do you think happens to us after this battle, Captain? I don't think it went as the President planned."

"Carry on, Commander, just like Harris wants us to." The Ragnarok dropped out of lightspeed to the sight of the Main Fleet in orbit around the frozen world of Kafrene Outpost. Navigation had dropped them right on the money. "He will know when to stop. I hope."

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Up Next: A Rude Awakening