Chapter 10: Deep Core Combat.
39.4.15 GrS
The Volkori Nebula, The Deep Core
TIE/sa Bomber, Callsign: Beta 3
"This is Beta Leader, target has entered sensor range. Beta Squadron, call off."
"Beta 2, combat ready." It was his turn.
"Beta 3, combat ready." Julian Tindar, known by the callsign Beta 3 when strapped into the shock couch and combat harness of his TIE/sa Bomber, sounded off. The omnipresent hiss of his life support system once again the only sound in his cockpit. Julian cast a critical eye on the sensor readouts of his machine, while keeping the other eye on the shifting nebula his squadron was using as cover.
"Wish we could see the traitors we're trying to hit ya know Julian? That was his wingman, Beta 4 or Ridden Burdoo, spoke over the comm channel.
Julian responded while making a minute adjustment in his flight path, Beta 8 was drifting a little too close for his liking, given their current location. "We know where they'll be Beta 4, that's enough."
A TIE/IN interceptor passed over his craft, darting forward into the thicker soup of the nebula with the rest of Alpha Squadron.
Ridden had seen it too. "With those guys flying escort duty, I guess you're right."
Too right. Julian grinned with a perverse and savage joy. They'd been in the territory of these traitors for four standard rotations and the Adamant hadn't had the chance to tangle yet. The other squadrons in their new fleet had, taking out, to the best of his understanding, several of the enemy's screening vessels. But Julian was fine with that, those ships had been small fry. The chum tossed into the water to draw in the real catch.
A Star Destroyer. He wasn't sure which model of Star Destroyer it was, he would guess an Imperial class, or it's name. Actually he didn't think anyone in his squadron knew the name of the vessel the Adamant had been hunting for the past rotation. He did know that they'd almost had it at one point, Beta squadron had even been scrambled, but the enemy had slipped away. Not this time, this time those traitors would pay.
"Beta Squadron, this is Beta Leader. Alpha squadron has sighted the target. Prime concussion missiles and begin our attack run on my mark."
Julian clenched and unclenched his hands around the control sticks of his TIE, before reaching over and priming the missile launcher. Eight green lights appeared below the side console. An unconscious grin stretched under his helmet. He was good to go.
"Beta 4, what's your status?" He asked his wingman, preparing to leap to full speed as he did so. Standard doctrine mandated that when attacking space vessels TIE/sa's make their attack run at full speed.
"Ready to go Beta 3." Ridden replied, the same professional tone Julian had been speaking with finally entering his voice. Ridden spent too much time joking but he knew his job when things got serious. He wouldn't still be alive if he couldn't.
The seconds seemed to stretch forever as Julian waited for the order. Every molecule in him ached for it. The training that had broken him down and reforged him into a TIE pilot, the best in the frakking galaxy, howled in the back of his mind for the sweet relief of combat.
And just when it seemed the command would never come, just when he was about to take himself out of the combat state of paranoia and hyperawareness the Academy had drilled into him, the order came.
"Accelerate to attack speed Beta Squadron! Follow me!" Beta leader shouted over the comms, and then dove his TIE into a darker cloud of the nebula with only the faint trail of his ion engines visible to the naked eye.
The rest of Beta squadron didn't hesitate, following their leader into the swirling mists of cosmic dust. Their TIEs rattling around them as the forces of the nebula exerted pressure the craft's initial specs hadn't been designed for. Yet they came through the pocket unscathed thanks to the shield generators that had been installed in their craft prior to the fleet's departure from Rendili.
Some pilots would have muttered about the sacrilege of modifying their TIEs in such a way. After all, they were the best pilots in the galaxy in spite of the fragility of the craft they flew and they liked it that way. But Beta 3 didn't mind the modification, as long as it let him kill more traitors than he would have been able to otherwise.
Beta Squadron broke through the cloud bank, flying in a V formation with Beta Leader at the tip. Below them the familiar shape of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer hung in a small pocket of clear space. Around the grey behemoth danced the angular profiles of Alpha Squadron's Interceptors along with the box profiles of standard TIE Fighters. Green turbolasers flew into the pink clouds of the nebula as the traitors desperately attempted to destroy the harrassing TIE fighters. As Beta 3 took in all of this, a cloud of orange flames appeared as one of the Star Destroyer's main guns scored a kill.
"Dive! Dive!" Came the command, and Beta 3 swung his craft into a deeper dive than the one he had previously been in, Beta 4 pinging off his sensors as he followed Beta 3's lead.
With ion engines pushed to their maximum, it took a matter of seconds before they were level with the tip of the enemy Star Destroyer. Then they pulled out of their dive and raced up the Star Destroyer's superstructure, rising into a gradual climb as they did so.
"Entering the target zone in 3...!" Beta Leader's voice was strained as he ground out commands to the rest of his squadron, the result of the g-forces that all pilots had to deal with when in combat.
"2….1...Missiles away!"
Beta 3 sighted in with his targeting computer and with the simple push of the red button at the top of his left control stick, let fly his payload of concussion missions straight into the midship of the Star Destroyer. The second the last missile had raced away, Beta 3 yanked backward on the flight stick with all his might, forcing his TIE into a vertical climb, racing away from the awesome power he had just unleashed, Beta 4 right behind him.
Yet not all of Beta Squadron was fast enough to escape the collect blast radius of nearly 200 concussion missiles. Beta 11 was knocked off course by the blast's shockwave and rammed into the doonium surface of the Star Destroyer. Beta 12, Beta 11's wingman, was simply swallowed up in the explosion.
Yet Beta 3 didn't care about the two squadron mates disappearing from his sensors, he was focused on maintaining formation.
"Good run Beta Squadron." Beta Leader informed them. "Target area has been destroyed."
It Beta 3 had been able to look backwards, or if even cared to, he would have seen the area directly below the bridge of the traitor's Star Destroyer, the crew quarters and such, being engulfed in flames as the ship vented atmosphere and crewmembers were sucked into the swirling cosmic dust of the nebula. The Star Destroyer they faced was undoubtedly crippled, with a good hundred meters of its hull having been destroyed in an instant.
Some might have even felt pity for the poor souls who were meeting their deaths due to his actions. Not Beta 3. Instead he was enthralled with the sight of the Adamant emerging from the cosmic dust banks in front of them. It's pristine Imperial grey hull a perfect representation of the might of the Empire.
The predator had finally caught up with its wounded prey and was moving in for the kill.
Bridge of the ISD Adamant
"We've entered our optimal engagement range m'lord." Masal reported to me, after a lower officer had delivered the news to him.
"Withdraw our fighter squadron from the engagement, then give them a full broadside." I said, taking in the sight of the wounded Imperial-II Star Destroyer. The bombing run Masal had come up with had worked wonders, the midsection was belching atmosphere and burning with blue flames.
Normally the thought of taking the Adamant into combat against an Imperial-II would have turned my stomach but thanks to our current surroundings, anything was possible.
"Portside barrage commencing in 3, 2, 1..fire." The cool and collected voice of the gunnery officer drifted up from the crew pit beneath us. Then the port side of the Adamant flashed a brilliant emerald green as the six portside heavy turbolaser turrets opened, followed by the sixty secondary portside guns, up into the wounded spine of the Imperial-II.
The destructive power of the first volley was shrugged off by the weak but still there shields of the Imperial-II, the follow up volley smashed through those shields and scored a direct hit on their hull.
"Adjust firing angle and target their starboard barbutes." Masal directed, watching over the engagement with a keen eye. I was more of an observer for the time being, letting Masal direct the immediate combat while I paid attention to the overall picture.
"Status on the bomber squadron?" I asked, looking down into the crew pit.
The flight control officer looked up at me. "They've returned and are halfway through loading proton torpedos." I noticed that he very deliberately avoided direct eye contact with me while speaking. Sometimes my helmet was less fear inspiring than the sight of my sulfur yellow eyes, a clearly unnatural color. Not that I cared about the comfort of those I was addressing, things were just smoother if they only had one thing to focus on.
"Send them back out immediately, have them target the enemy ship's hanger this time." The Imperial-II had only scrambled a measly one TIE squadron to try and intercept the three fighter squadrons I had sent out to escort my bombers. Whether he was truly lacking more than one full squadron or was just pressed for extra brain cells, it was a mistake I would capitalize on.
"At once m'lord." The flight control officer responded but my attention had already moved on.
I raised my commlink up to chin height and activated it, immediately Atten's voice came through.
"Yes sir?"
"Commander Atten, prepare a company for boarding operations. We'll be making a short visit to the enemy vessel." I glanced over at the bridge of the enemy Imperial-II as I spoke mentally judging the strength of the shields that still protected it from the unrelenting barrage of the Adamant. My ship had passed over the starboard side of the Imperial-II and was now pouring turbolasers in their port side. Masal had decided to continue targeting their barbutes from the looks of it, a good choice in my opinion.
"Understood sir, we'll be waiting for you in the main hanger." Atten ended the transmission, ignoring the usual officer's tendency to wait for me to end the call. I took no umbrage with it, competency should never be punished in my books.
"Captain." I called out. "Switch over to ion cannon barrage, and focus your fire on the enemy bridge."
"Yes sir." Masal took the new order in stride, seamlessly shifting his attention to the port side ion batteries. "Will you be going out?"
"Yes indeed captain, I will." With a sharp turn on my heels and a swish of my black and red cortosis weave cape, I strode out of the bridge eager to get down to the fun part now that my plan had moved onto the next phase.
Thanks to the wondrous technology of turbolifts and mag trains that only senior ranking officers had access to, it was a matter of minutes to reach the main hanger(before that I had grabbed my helmet with its nifty built in oxygen tanks). Still Atten was nothing if not good at his job and the troopers of my Stormtrooper regiment were nothing if not good too. Atten and the requested single company had assembled in front of two boarding pods, bulbous things with four metal spikes that would combine into a single spike when in flight.
The second Atten and the company caught sight of me, they snapped to attention, stamping their boots into the durasteel floor. The very loud noise grabbed the attention of a few deckhands in various other parts of the hanger but once they realized who else was with the stormtroopers, they quickly returned to whatever task they were at. The nugget of fears most of them held upon realizing my presence was pleasing too.
"Well Commander Atten," I said, coming to a halt a meter or so away from the assembled ranks of stormtroopers. "Ready to go take a Star Destroyer?"
"I certainly am my lord." Atten spoke, Eriduan accent still unperturbed by the vocalizers of his helmet. The only difference between Atten and his men next to him was the orange pauldron worn over his right shoulder.
"And the rest of the men?" I asked rhetorically. I could feel the eagerness and bloodlust rolling off the company, they were hungry for combat.
The company didn't disappoint when asked to show their enthusiasm.
"LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE, DEATH TO ALL TRAITORS! LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE, DEATH TO ALL TRAITORS! LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!"
As the resounding roar died down I took my helmet, which had been tucked under my left arm, and put it on. The sound of it sealing with the rest of my armor a creature comfort. The Dark Side coiled around me, eager even though I tempered it down with my will.
It was time to get some answers as to what Harrsk was planning.