Part 4 – War and Victims

Chapter 46

Pantora - Fortress

"Get those starfighters in the air!", Mace yelled at the pilots standing around the landing zone.

They were staring up at the scene playing out in orbit. Startled into action by his shout, they began to rush across the platform to their cockpits, grabbing their helmets from the rack on their way. Mechanics buzzed about like seani, unhitching the fuel hoses and doing quick system checks to ensure the starfighters were ready for flight. Most of the Republic fighters were on the high altitude platform, or escorting the Pantoran transports. Hopefully, they would also be ready for a fight.

Mace slipped into his own Delta-7 Actis Starfighter. Grabbing his headset from the headrest, he fit it over his head. His astromech droid, R8-B7, beeped and whirred to confirm that all systems were ready to go. Mace nodded his gratitude. "Good work, droid."

His earpiece crackled as pilots began to sound off, which he mostly ignored. Instead, he focussed on the starfighter's start-up sequence. Soon, his engines were flaring and he signalled the closest squadron commander.

"This is Sergeant Deeks, Master Windu. I'm Torres Leader. We are ready to fly."

"Good to hear, sergeant.", the Jedi responded, "Follow Master Fisto and I as closely as you can."

He knew that the squadron would need to fly as closely as they could. Although Pantora had air defence cannons, they were useless for surface to orbit fire. Anything coming from the planet would be the enemy fighter's target. One of the few things they could do to avoid being blown to smithereens was fly fast.

"Understood sir.", Deeks replied, his voice stiff and unreadable. "According to our comm chatter, the Helios is taking the brunt of the attack. The shields are holding for now, but I don't think that they will last long under constant barrage. Green Squadron is the only fighter crew flying currently. Half of Shocker Squadron is on board the Helios refuelling. Flight Commander March is ordering all fighters to the fleet, but for now, I think we and the Greens are it."

Mace frowned in concentration, swinging his toggle back and forth as he pointed his ship towards the sky. He didn't care too much about who was up there. At the moment, he only cared that there were fighters up there. "Then let's get up there."

Pilios March jammed her ship's control yoke to the side, sending the Gladbron bouncing to the right as it skidded across the upper edge of the destroyer's shields. This sort of fight was far above her pay grade. Without the Resurrection to help defend the smaller ships, her starfighters had to do their best to take out as many of the larger ship's cannons to halt its barrage. Then it would be time to pick off their fighters and bombers before they could destroy the Fleet.

She had flown past the destroyer's small hanger just a few minutes earlier, and was surprised to see a hoard of red and white painted Vulture Droid Starfighters and Hyena Bomber Craft hanging in neat rows. Whoever was on the command bridge had not yet ordered them to deploy. When they did, it would be pandemonium. Complete chaos in the skies. These droids outnumbered the starfighter squadron.

The cruiser's shields were holding against everything the Republic was throwing at them, which admittedly wasn't much. The Helios fired its long-range cannons, but they were meant to repel starfighter attacks. The Consulars were having more of an effect, hammering away at the shields as best they could with their heavy cannons.

"March!", Captain Gibbs called from the Helios, his transmission full of patchy static, "We are taking fire. The flotilla is crumbling. We need you to take out that ship's shield generators!"

"Understood, sir!", March tried to keep the annoyance from her voice. She already knew that she needed to take down the shields. But her squadrons needed direction. To take out the shields, they needed bombers. Shocker Squadron was still in the midst of refuelling, and the only bomber left in the battle was the single H-79 bomber craft behind her. Flown by the rambunctious Togruta Honey Grassi, the H-79 Tempest's vertical flight path made it easy to identify, even though it was so small.

"Honey!", Pilios barked her orders at the bomber pilot, "We are going for the shields. You know where they are?"

Grassi's chipper voice laughed loudly in response, and Pilios could picture the grey skin and white markings on her face. "You know it boss. The bulge on the apex of the spine. I got this."

Pilios thought she heard the grey-skinned Togruta humming a tune before her transmission cut out. Honey was known for her near constant singing around the base, but thankfully during missions she kept it to a quiet hum.

Ordering the rest of the fighters to form around Honey's bomber craft, Pilios flicked the switch to give control of the weapons to her co-pilot, Nelion Dare. Green Squadron consisted of members from Mark Antilles' gang from Taris. There had been a few additional openings since the Battle of Malastare Narrows. Some pilots had chosen to leave. Others had perished in enemy fire during their battles. The replacements had personally chosen by Mark, a mixture of fresh cadets from the Naval Academy, and a few old smuggling friends.

The ships were a mixture of the Gladbron-79 heavy starfighters and the slightly newer and more agile Gladbron-85 starfighters. They had heavier shields and more powerful engines than their predecessor. The ship's ordinance was basic. Heavy cannons, a few missiles, and of course, M.I.N.E.S. And that was exactly what Pilios was going to use.

"Alright, boys and girls, let's do a Prodigal Manoeuvre.", she told them, then flicked off the comm and muttered, "Let's see what happens."

The squadron moved to surround and protect the bomber. Each pilot knew their specific roles. They practiced constantly for this very reason. The forward Gladbron's took the heavy fire on their own powerful shields, while the rear starfighter's fired on the cannon emplacements and other artillery stations.

March twisted her fighter around one of the largest communications nodes and watched as their weapons blew one of the towers to smithereens. Nelion Dare kept the calling the incoming vectors of enemy cannons and the readouts of the shields. Usually, Nelion flew as Mark's wingman, but today she was stuck with March. As the co-pilot, it was her duty to both check the scanners and readouts and to divert the power, while also being the one to aim their turreted cannons.

Apparently, the Recusant had three different shield generators. It was time to dive underneath the electrostatic field, and March told her to take power from their weapons and put it into the shields themselves. The fighters blurred through the shields and immediately afterwards, March ordered for them to close ranks. The Gladbrons would take the fire for the bomber now, keeping it safe until it was time to drop it's payload. Honey could take it from there. Keeping her voice as calm as she could, she keyed the comm again. "Plan Orthomark! On my mark!"

Two of the Gladbron-85's flew forward, firing on the gunnery emplacements in their way while the older Gladbron's twisted away. She knew that each of their belly ordinance hatches were prepped, and their electromagnetic M.I.N.E.S were ready. One of each fighter 'wing' held thermal bombs instead. After the magnetic bombs took out any defences near the port and starboard generators, the thermal bombs would detonate them. Hopefully the combined explosives would be enough. The middle shield generator, the largest of the three would rely fully on Honey's aim. March fell back into place to escort the bomber craft to the target zone.

They flew closer and closer to the target, and March felt her finger on the trigger. A bead of sweat trickled down her back, and she shifted as much as she could in the pilot's seat. A cannon fired, and she flipped over the bolt. The scope flickered as they entered range. Particle bolts zipped past her cockpit and slammed into the shields covering her wings.

She heard herself order Nelion to fire, and felt the ship shuddered as her co-pilot squeezed the trigger. The red beams of heavy ordinance laser fire destroyed the turbo battery towers between her and the generator. Nelion flicked a switch and unlocked the mobile blasters, swinging them ninety degrees to take out the final tower as they zipped past, and suddenly their comms crackled loudly. Honey loudly let out a cry of triumph.

"Bomb's away, boys and girls!", the Togurta cried, following it with a small tune in her native tongue, "Let's watch them turn tail!"

Cries of triumph echoed hers, with each of the teams calling in the destruction of their own targets. But then another alarm filled the cockpit and Nelion called forward to March. "I have another target coming out of hyperspace! Looks big!"

"What is that?", Captain Gill's voice sounded awed at the sight before him. "That can't be…"

Pilios stared as the sky before her warped, and the new ship arrived. It was shorter than the destroyer, about the size of a frigate. But it was far better armed. A single bulbous growth had been skewered to the otherwise elegant design. Gun emplacements bristled along the growth, primed and ready. The bridge was near the rear, set right above the engines, a square compartment that was connected to the front by a thinner column. Below that was a small fin, which held the main shields. Unfortunately, it was protected by both tractor beams and missile launchers.

Pilios knew that ship. She had grown up on Xenot, a remote world in the Western Reaches. That ship was a D'brathi-class gunnery platform, pride of Ruthaton Industries. It was also known as the Western Reaches Defender. She grit her teeth. When she had first joined her homeworld's defence fleet, she had served on a D'brathi. It was heavily armed and heavily shielded, built to defend against constant pirate attacks. They were in for a rough fight, unless the blockade suddenly decided to delink their shields and join the party. Somehow, Pilios doubted that Gill would be so kind.

The ship's commander had clearly not been expecting to see the Republic fleet still intact, as he hadn't yet raised the shields. Unfortunately, neither had the Republic been expecting to see this new ship. After a second, blaster fire erupted from the D'brathi forward cannons, and strafed across the space between the ship and the Helios.

When the shockwave reached the Torres squadron, it rocked them. Their instruments filled with static. Three of the ships collided as the blast threw their instruments out of focus and they spun. Mace wrestled with his controls, trying to correct his fighter's path before it was also thrown off course.

"You good?", Kit asked as his Delta-7 reappeared beside him.

Ord Enisense's dusty grey starfighter appeared on the scope. He had been guarding one of the private Pantoran Frigates, Melodies Call, but he took a rear flanking position to the remaining ships. The Skrilling's rough voice spluttered through the static filled comm a moment later, "I guess that is what a huge ship being destroyed looks like. Did we do it?"

Mace tried to focus. He twisted his fighter until he saw the carnage above, and swallowed roughly. His voice sounded harsh even to his own ears as he stated the obvious. "That wasn't the attacking force."

Kit's voice echoed his disbelief, "That was the Helios."

Flashes of fire began to flicker as the Helios' wreckage began to fall. Mace quickly made the calculations. Thankfully, it appeared that the debris was going to crash into the bay area of Fortress. But it was almost too close to the shore. There was bound to be flooding through the city.

He got on the comm, transmitting to all the remaining Republic ships in the vicinity. "This is Master Mace Windu of the Jedi Order. Any and all Republic ships remaining, we need to get this fight away from the population. Head down. We'll get into orbit and set course for the Southern Marshes. Transmitting coordinates now."

R8 chirped back at Mace, and spun his dome around. Mace frowned forward at the droid, but ignored him, busying himself with sending the transmission. He watched as each of the remaining starfighters, the Republic Consular-class corvettes, and the smaller Pantoran transports that had joined them, turned as one. They raced towards the moon's atmosphere, aiming for the coordinates Mace had sent.

The commlink crackled again. "This in Major Pilios March, fighter wing commander. I believe that I am the highest-ranking squadron pilot here, so I will say this only once. Squadrons, the shields on the Recusant are down Unfortunately, the second ship is a D'brathi gunnery platform. We needed the Helios' shields to get close enough to take it down. Now the only ship with the firepower to do so is the Resurrection. My squadron will attempt to break through the blockade and reach Admiral Yularen. I am staying in command here, but we will have reinforcements. I guarantee it."

Mace watched as the tiny flickers of six starfighters broke away from the Republic forces and made for the gap between Pantora and the planet below. The gravity between the two planetary bodies would protect the starfighters from the enemy cannons until they could jump. The lighter V-19's and Shocker squadron's bombers fell back with March, unable to jump without the assistance of a hyperspace ring. Meanwhile, the Gladbron's were heavy fighters, and were therefore equipped with a Class-3 hyperdrive. If anyone could find Admiral Yularen, hopefully March's squadron could. Somehow, he knew that their fates now lay with those five ships of Green Squadron.

He twisted he control yoke and twisted his fighter to intercept with the remaining forces as they dove for cover.