Chapter 12: Never Underestimate

39:4:22 GrS

Pocket of Calm Space, The Volkori Nebula, The Deep Core

Imperial-I Class Star Destroyer: Adamant

"Shields are holding steady at fifty percenty integrity, captain. Pacer and Relentless reporting similar values. Fist of Asgar's integrity has dropped to the forty percent benchmark, and an enemy barrage has impacted on her starboard tip. Dreadnought-887 continues to hold at sixty percent shield integrity," One of Masal's aides rattled off the statistics, reporting the shield strength of the core warships of the Deep Core Defense Fleet.

"Pull the Fist of Asgar back into the pocket and move Frigate II, IV and Arquitens I into her position. Maintain the formation." Masal calmly handed out directions before looking at me any additional commands.

"After you pull the Fist of Asgar back, send it into the lower section of the pocket, we'll use it for the push." I added, not moving away from my position at the bridge windows, keeping my focus on my opponents. Directly in front of the Adamant, arrayed out in a standard battle line, where four star destroyers, all of whom were transmitting IFF signatures that identified them as members of Harrk's fleet. I'd taken a gamble in ordering the attack on this fueling station, there was no way a recon ship could be sent ahead to see what, if any, traitorous forces were currently at the station without completely wasting the element of surprise.

Obviously that hadn't gone completely our way, with the two Tector-class(the true tanks of the Kuat star destroyer family) and Imperial-I class star destroyers having decided to stop by before our arrival. The fleet had gotten some good initial hits on the station before Harrsk's forces had scrambled to combat us, the firepower of four star destroyers quickly putting us on the defensive. We'd been forced away from our initial entry point, and the target of our raid, into this pocket of calm space and after a tense period when it looked like their line formation would overtake the star destroyers of our own fleet, the fighting had ended its movement phase and we were locked in a slugfest at the edge of the nebula banks; swirling pink and yellow cosmic dust at our backs and grey doonium at our front.

It'd be worthy of a holovid's climactic battle if it wasn't my fleet that was in the unsavory positioning.

Then a wave of green impacted the shields of the Adamant, the volley briefly maintaining its cohesiveness, prompting a brief thought that maybe this time the shields would fail, but the shields remained steady and the volley dissipated against the protective barrier.

"Not this time." I muttered, that volley was heavier than the previous ones. Guess our enemies were beginning to focus their firepower on the Adamant, recognizing it as the backbone of the fleet's formation.

The Adamant and the fleet were just taking pounding, wave after wave of emerald turbolaser bolts cutting across the blackness of space to try and breach our overlapped shields. It was very disconcerting for me to have to watch my ship be put on the defensive like this, and anger was starting to coalesce in the back of my mind at the wrongness of the situation. I was an Inquisitor, I did the crushing not the other way around. But I reminded myself that neither I, my star destroyer, or my fleet was out for the count yet.

Even if the saccharine laughter of the Dark Side at my anger and my awareness of my less than desirable situation didn't help me keep my focus. It didn't hurt my focus, I wouldn't have lived this long if I wasn't able to keep a tight grip on my emotional control, but it annoyed me, which fed into my anger which then fed into the Dark Side which allowed me more power to grab when I needed it. Ah the self sustaining loop of Dark Side Force use, what a sophisticated yet equally brutish thing.

So the fleet was up against the corner of the boxing ring, so to say, with the fists guarding the vulnerable face from a knockout blow. Harrsk's forces had us in firepower and raw defensive capability but we had them completely beat in the fighter department. Currently, both our CAP and the enemy's CAP were engaged in dogfighting in the space above our engagement zone. The reports that the pit crews had relayed to Masal, and thereby me, had the fighter engagement turning in our favor.

We'd called each other's initial sabacc hands, now it was time to play a new one.

"Masal, report on the Fist of Asgar's shields."

"They've stabilized to a degree sir, but she can't take a direct volley without risking shield failure and putting her armor to the test."

"That's fine, she just needs to be fast." And the Vindicator-class was fast enough for this maneuver, I hoped. I made the call. "Captain Masal, begin offensive maneuver A3-44."

"Yes sir, signal all ships to begin maneuver A3-44." Movement broke out throughout the bridge as stations began switching from a defensive posture to an offensive on, the same movements were happening throughout the fleet as the flagship transmitted the orders.

Now my ship halted her gradual backwards drift, cutting all momentum, and began to start punching out against her opponents. Gunnery crews ramped up their fire rate, now short and precise volleys of fire lanced out from the guns, forcing the Tector's and Imperial-I's to halt their advance as critical substations were hammered. The Pacer and the Relentless made the transition from defensive to offensive too, with the two Victory-II's unleashing their ion cannon batteries to follow up the Adamant's pinpoint fire.

Our four opponents hung limply in the blackness of space for a moment, and the Dark Side whispered to me the surprise that those captains felt. I stifled the urge to grin, that goes to show them why you should never consider your enemy defeated until you have watched their ship explode or seen their bloody and bisected corpse with your own eyes.

The other ships that were holding the front line with the fleet's star destroyers joined in with their own increased firepower which was all well and good but the amount of firepower we were sending out would never be enough to down four star destroyers, especially the Tectors that were designed specifically for the kind of slugging match we were engaged in. Luckily, that wasn't the point of the maneuver.

Like a swarm of Bacian blood hornets, two massed formations of TIEs, courtesy of the Ton Falk carriers and the Imperial-II frigates, swept around the sides of the front lines, on a straight intercept course for the refueling station, with select fighter wings peeling off to go and harass the enemy star destroyers. At the same time, a formation consisting of the Fist of Asgar and the twelve Gozanti-class corvettes, that had been specially modified to carry missile pods on the sides of the craft, sped out from under the protective barrier of the Adamant and her escorts. They're target was also the refueling station, except they were going to go under the enemy instead of around like the hundreds of TIEs were doing.

"Increase engine thrust, take us forward." Masal causally ordered, taking in the renewed offensive in front of his eyes with a mild sense of satisfaction about him. The main firefight grew in intensity as we now sought to keep the ships of the 'Lord High Admiral', as Blitzer Harrsk now referred to himself as, from turning their main guns on the ships cutting underneath them or the fighter swarms behind them. Not to say that Harrsk's ships were unable to shots off, there was still window in which the ships going underneath them were able to fired upon, as the loss of one of the corvettes had shown, but with the Adamant and her escorts closing the distance, they simply were not able to turn and deal with other portions of my fleet.

My opponents had underestimated my abilities just like I had underestimated their initial numbers, but unlike myself they had decided not to reconsider their overall strategy. And my decision was quickly proved to be correct as I was able to spot, just barely, plumes of fire and the detonations of proton torpedoes and concussion missiles.

"Sir the captain of the Fist of Asgar has reported that the central spire of the refueling station has been severed and that the docking ring is venting atmosphere." Masal reported to me. "This has been verified by fighter wing colonels engaged in strafing the station as well."

"Then we've dealt the finishing blow captain." I concluded. "Have the Fist of Asgar put a few more volleys into the station to make sure it and its hypermatter are unsalvageable; then dispatch the order to the wider fleet to begin the withdrawal to rally point…" I quickly recalled astrological maps in my head. "Jenth."

That ought to put the fleet well out of the pursuit range for Harrsk's forces. Of course any pursuit would require the captains involved being crazy enough to plunge into the unmapped depths of a nebula, and one in the inner core to boot.

"At your command my lord." Masal responded, and was about to turn to his own officers to begin handing out orders when he was interrupted by a warrant officer running up to him and handing him a sheet of flimsiplast.

The Force showed that he was startled by whatever he saw but physically Masal kept an ironclad grip on his facial movement.

"Sir, we spotted an incoming hyperspace shadow at the farthest jump point in this pocket." He quickly informed me, keeping his voice low.

"Then it would be reasonable to assume either another component of Harrsk's fleet is on its way or that reinforcements were called in by our friends over there." I pointed at the four star destroyers. "And their arrival is also imminent."

"Or the two are one in the same." Masal suggested. "Orders sir?"

There was no time to plan out a detailed plan of withdrawal, but that was what contingency plans were for.

"All fighters are to immediately disengage and make for their home ship. The Fist of Asgar's detachment will jump to rally point Vev while the rest of the fleet will jump to Jenth. The fleet will then make its way to rally point Dorn where we will reunite as a unit." It wasn't the cleanest of plans and put the fleet further away from the planned area of operation than I personally liked but the Dark Side had seen fit to give me a warning before ruining my fun. I wasn't going to push its generosity by delaying my departure.

"Make it so captain." I finished speaking to Masal and then exited the bridge, cape flaring in an invisible wind behind me as I walked. My role in the battle had come to an end with the completion of our objective and the giving out of orders to withdrawal, the rest of the job could be left in Masal's capable hands.

Now that the fleet's planned course of action had been changed with the appearance of additional ships, I needed to plot a new course of action. Although the chance in plans now presented an opportune moment to use a new style of ritual meditation I had finished deciphering from my Sith primer, so maybe the Dark Side had tossed me two bones today instead of one.

It might also be a sign that I needed to recheck my translation work as well. Such is the way of the Dark Side, its gifts are both warnings to be heeded and items to be treasured.

A/N: Just wanted to thank everyone who has left a review, along with following and favoriting, the story since I posted it. Such things keep up my drive to write and I appreciate them.