Ch12 - The Strike
Senate Chambers, Coruscant, Galactic Core, 2 BBY
"Senators of the Republic," Annabeth watched as the Saxon representative to the Senate announced gravely, "It is with a heavy heart that I announce to you the passing of the much beloved Admiral Perseus Jackson, of Clan Tritonis of Mandalore. His flagship, the Emperor's Hand, was sabotaged, and then destroyed, by treasonous warriors affiliated with Clan Wren, and the terrorist organisation known as Death Watch."
Annabeth gasped, her blood running cold. For so long, Bail had spoken of the Rebels' growth, of their rapidly increasing credibility, and of their ability to fight the good fight. Had they finally bitten off more than they could chew?
"The Admiral launched an immediate evacuation upon discovery of this threat, and I am glad to report that much of his crew was able to survive. Among them was Agent Kallus of the ISB. His report states that he desired to go down with his ship. He claimed that the Admiral considered it his own failure that the Fist had been sabotaged at all, and chose death as a means of repentance for his failure."
The Senate broke out into hushed murmurs, which swept across the room. Looking across at her own comrades with whom she had served during the Clone War, Annabeth could see ashen faces, and as she turned her gaze to the senators for the planets which he had fought so hard to liberate, she could see tears in eyes.
The Mandalorian representative finished his speech with the final, crushing blow to their hearts.
"The Admiral fought as he died, with the true spirit of a warrior. He was the best of us all, and the Rebellion has taken that from us. I demand that his death be avenged, that these terrorists and murderers are crushed, like the pestilent bugs they are!"
The chambers of the Galactic Senate echoed with cheers as the Galaxy made known its righteous fury.
Senate Chambers, Coruscant, Galactic Core, 2 BBY
"Bail, you're going to have to give me something here," Annabeth demanded as the session was adjourned for lunch. "Nobody with half a brain would believe that the Fist's gone down, right?"
"No," Bail sighed. "It's down. We had agents on the planet, and all their reports seem to suggest the same thing. Down, all hands."
"Then how come Thalia Grace joined up with Phoenix Squadron yesterday?" the former Republic Naval Officer demanded. "She would have been aboard the Fist, surely?"
Bail shook his head in sorrow. "She was sent by Jackson as an escort for Alexandr Kallus, who we now know has been serving as a part of the Fulcrum network for close to a year now."
"What if…"
"He's gone, Annabeth," Bail stated firmly. "Reyna's vanished by all accounts; I can only assume she's made use of his family as a route out, and the ongoing civil war means that any unrecognised vessel going in or out is shot down, no questions asked."
"What does that mean for the rebellion?" she asked, frowning. "What are people saying about it?"
"They're calling him a martyr, blaming it all on the Empire," Bail replied. "Just like Ahsoka Tano, just like all the others who've died in this war. Somehow everyone's claiming the incident is the other side's fault, using it as a catalyst to support the conflict."
"The Empire are using the fact that he was a good kriffing guy under Tarkin's fleet of kark to rally the populace?"
"And the Rebels are pretending that it was Imperial Agents who sabotaged his ship," Bail nodded. "It's a mess, but for the moment people believe our side, so we keep our heads down, and fight for him."
Tritonis Stronghold, Krownest, New Kleyman System, 2 BBY
"They announced your death to the Senate this morning," one of the clansmen told Percy as the military leaders of the allied clans gathered for their daily meeting. "The Rebellion claim it's the Empire who did it, the Empire have fallen hook, line and sinker for your plan."
"Good," Bo-Katan smirked. "Hopefully someone with half a brain on Yavin-4 will use the period of mourning to launch a strike on some kind of Imp stronghold."
"What's to say we don't?" Percy smirked. "A warrior bearing the Darksaber," he gestured across to Sabine, "supported by some of the finest warriors in the galaxy. Tiber Saxon won't know what hit him."
"A soft target?" a member of Clan Eldar suggested.
Sabine shook her head.
"A Star Destroyer?" she suggested. "A team of six Rebels were able to knock out Star Destroyers, even if we usually needed a bit of luck. We're, what, a few hundred?"
"Try a few thousand," Fenn Rau replied with a smirk. "House Kast have brought significant strength to our numbers."
"And we pack a punch, too," the armoured figure of Cray Kast rumbled, leaning back in his chair. "With my warriors alone, we can knock out an entire fleet!"
"Easy there, Cray," Janus Ordo joked, "You're going to give Tritonis ideas."
Every face turned to Percy.
"What?" he asked, feigning ignorance. "It's not a bad idea."
"To take on an entire warfleet?" Ursa Wren deadpanned. "No, not a bad idea at all. It's a terrible one, cousin."
"Who said it has to be in the air?" Percy smirked. "There's nothing to stop us from hitting a fleet on the ground. Or, even better…"
He tapped a series of buttons on his vambraces, projecting an image onto the table around which the group were sat.
"A maintenance facility?" Sabine gasped in realisation. "It's brilliant."
"The Sector facility, no less," the former Imperial Admiral replied smugly. "See, Gar Saxon never put much stock in Imperial warships, so I suggested 'budget saving measures'."
"No way…" Triton breathed.
"The whole sector fleet's maintained there," Bo-Katan cackled in glee. "Pick the right day and we'll even get some of Perseus' old fleet in there too. At least five Star Destroyers."
The nascent Mandalorian Resistance set to work.
Chopper Base, Atollon, Lothal Sector, 2 BBY
"New recruits are flooding into the Rebellion," the holograph of Senator Mon Mothma proclaimed proudly. "I owe you all a great deal, Phoenix Squadron. I couldn't have made it out without your help."
"We're all fighting for the same thing, Senator," Hera replied, smiling. "I'm just glad we could make a difference.
"General Dodonna is en route to you soon; from then your assault on Lothal can commence. Hopefully, we will have a planet liberated from the Empire's clutches within the space of a few days."
"That's the hope, Senator."
Hera and Sato watched as the holocomm flickered out in front of them, the pair of them exchanging a brief conversation before parting ways.
The base, as it seemed on an initial inspection, was working in its usual order, the buzz of activity driving the soldiers and pilots of Phoenix Squadron from one task to another.
To Hera, however, something was wrong. The maintenance crews were distracted, a nervous energy that held up their work.
She asked one of the A-Wing Pilots what was wrong. She was quickly directed to the Jedi Camp, a few klicks away from the main airbase.
"Spectre-1, this is Spectre-2, come in," she urged, praying that Kanan would receive the message.
"Not a good time, Hera," Kanan deadpanned. "We have a Maul-shaped problem here. Don't approach the camp."
"Maul?" Hera wondered aloud, her hands dropping limply to her side.
Chopper Base, Atollon, Lothal Sector, 2 BBY
"Leave him, Maul," Nico commanded, sneering at the former Sith Lord with disdain. The Zabrak paused his assault on the young Padawan, the little Rodian scampering away before he could come under further attack. Three more bodies lay unmoving on the ground, one of the younger Knights having attempted to hold off the darksider
"Ah, Master di Angelo," Maul hissed. "We have met before."
"We have," Nico replied uninterestedly. "And yet I do not recall you ever winning. Does it give you any pleasure to kill untrained children?"
"You have hidden Ezra Bridger from me," Maul said conversationally. He spun his blade in his hands, a couple of the Padawans who had not been evacuated from the base, and even some of the Knights, flinching away from the movement.
The Zabrak withdrew his blade, stowing it at his belt.
"And what business do you have with a Knight of my Order?" Nico asked, eyes narrowing.
"My dear, dear Padawan," Maul said theatrically, "has the key to it all."
Nico frowned. "Ezra Bridger is no student of the Dark, and the holocron now rests within my own possession. You seek Kenobi? You will only find the death you deserved the last time your blades met with his. Come, take it from mine."
Shrugging off his cloak, Nico drew the green sabre that had served him so well for all this time, smiling at its familiar hum.
Maul ignited both ends of his own blade, taking his guard, hands spread along the hilt, angling it downwards towards the ground, weight balanced onto his back leg.
Nico simply stood there, blade out by his side, face on to his foe. His face was a picture of calm, his eyes closed despite one of the most feared duellists in the world being mere feet in front of him.
Maul charged.
The crimson blade bore down on the Jedi's neck, the hum of the tainted crystal within growing ever louder in his ears.
Then, it stopped.
Nico opened his eyes, the slightest hint of a smirk in his eyes.
Maul's eyes widened in realisation of what had just happened.
"No, no, you will fight me!" the Zabrak roared, striking once more, seeking to cleave the Umbaran in two.
Once more, he could not get close.
"Raise your blade," Maul snarled. "I refuse to be disrespected like this."
"I disagree," Nico replied, tone still just as uninterested as it had been when he had first seen Maul. "My Master would fight you, because he believes that the only cure for your hate is his own blade. I, meanwhile, understand that he protects the one who will save us all, far, far away from here."
"Then end my life, Master Jedi," Maul dared. "If you claim to keep the gates of our salvation. Prove that you are worthy."
"I don't need to," Nico replied simply. "You feel that I need to, but all of that is quite simply irrelevant."
Maul struck once more, and there were three decisive clashes of red and green, too fast for even the fastest to comprehend.
The pair stood opposite one another once more, and Nico bowed.
"Be one with the force, Maul. Rest knowing that balance shall be brought not far from now."
There was no response, merely a resigned shake of the head as the Zabrak warrior fell to his knees, crumpling to the ground.
"Bury the dead," Nico said quietly. "Let their names not be forgotten, and let them be in unity with the force once more."
Wren Stronghold, Krownest, New Kleyman System, 2 BBY
The Wren Stronghold was a buzz of activity, some two hundred warriors of the Resistance assembled and preparing their weapons to assault their first major target of the rapidly unfolding civil war.
Kom'rk personnel-carriers were being fuelled, their drop doors being tested and primary weapons systems prepped for battle.
Fang-Class Fighters, donated by the various Clans of the Resistance to the Protectors, were being given their final checks, fifteen nervous, fresh pilots under the guidance of the experienced Fenn Rau readying themselves for their first taste of high-intensity fighter combat.
In the midst of the chaos, the commanders of the various elements of the force sat around a small command table.
Bo-Katan Kryze, Cassian Kast and Marel Rook were each responsible for their own teams of ground fighters, to be inserted into the battle by Kom'rk dropships led by Perseus Jackson. The fighter escort was to be commanded by Fenn Rau, easily the most experienced warrior among the Mandalorian Resistance.
In stark contrast was the warrior with supreme command of ground forces. Sabine Wren seemed more nervous than anyone had ever seen her, a barely noticeable twitch to her hands, an adrenaline-fuelled snap to her actions that betrayed her apprehension of what was to come.
There was, however, a steel to her eyes that reassured all those around her that there would be no hesitation in her actions.
She wielded their symbol in the Darksaber; she had engineered their most fearsome weapon in the form of the Duchess. She was a figure who the galaxy already recognised as a Rebel to be feared, and a warrior who wasn't to be crossed.
At this point in time, her age mattered little.
Experience, after all, outranked everything.
"Fighters will be ready to fly in ten minutes, My Lady," Fenn Rau informed her when they had all taken their seats. "Pilots and weapons systems ready to go."
"Dropships likewise," Percy confirmed. "Teams have been assigned ships, and the pilots will keep together. Each Commander has control over three ships, and each set of three has its own dedicated fighter escort."
"My warriors are ready to fight," Kast said, his face a picture of anticipation for what was to come.
"As are ours," Kryze and Rook echoed.
"Then let's get ready to move," Sabine nodded, pounding her fist into the wooden table for effect.
The Commanders saluted, and left, Rau and Tritonis flanking their young charge on either side.
"Are you flying with one of our ships, Sabine?" Percy asked, leaning in towards her ear so that their conversation wasn't heard by wandering ears.
"I'm fighting, Uncle," Sabine replied simply.
The two men paused, though Sabine didn't.
Rau turned to Percy with a proud, beaming smile. "She's really going to do it, isn't she?"
"I don't think she ever had a doubt, old friend. After this, I doubt anyone will."
Phindar System, Mandalore Sector, 2 BBY
The Resistance's Assault Fleet dropped out of Hyperspace, fighters escorting the strike package on all sides while the heavier Kom'rk ships moved to attack formation behind them.
At the tip of the Kom'rk wedge was the secret weapon of the Mandalorian Resistance; one of only five in existence. At the outset, it appeared to be the same as all of the rest of its class. On closer inspection, however, an observer would notice the lack of drop bay doors. The reason for this was that the space previously used for keeping troops had been converted into an energy storage facility.
It accommodated the installation of an internal Electronic Warfare package, capable of jamming interplanetary communications and masking the entire strike force's radar signatures.
It also carried the pride of the fleet; the Arc Pulse Generator, colloquially referred to as 'The Duchess'.
"Air Elements, number off," Percy called over the radio. The net was quickly occupied by each of the ten Kom'rk pilots answering the call, and beside him in the copilot's seat, Reyna flicked the combat systems on, diverting power to the shields and weapons at the expense of the extra power that they had diverted to the Hyperdrive for smooth transit. Patting Percy on the shoulder, she exited the cockpit to briefly check on the team of twenty Kryze warriors in the main cabin behind them, who were preparing for combat.
Rau called for his numbers next, each of the Protector Pilots numbering off, pilots and their wingmen all ready for the battle that was to come.
The final call was Sabine's, ensuring that each of the strike teams were ready to go.
There was a tingle of adrenaline that worked its way down Percy's arms, all the way to his fingers. His blood pounded in his ears.
He had been fighting for twenty years now, since that day over Onderon, and yet he had never been given the chance to do it as he was always meant to.
As a Mandalorian.
For his own people.
When Reyna re-entered the cockpit, it was with Bo-Katan beside her, the latter having placed her helmet on her head as Percy and Reyna had when they had taken off. Of course, Bo-Katan hadn't needed the helmet's heads-up display to fly a spacecraft as the others had. Now, though, the Beskar armour could quite possibly save her life.
"Ready, Kryze?" Percy asked.
"As ever, Tritonis," She replied. "Let's get this shab'la war started, shall we?"
"Kriff, yes," he laughed. "I'll leave your first target a couple of extra presents. Rey rigged the Striil to drop Percussion Charges last night. They'll drop just before you do."
"Appreciated, Perseus," Bo-Katan said, clasping a hand on his shoulder as he piloted.
The formation had broken the atmosphere by the time they were challenged, the Imperial Commander responsible for the station evidently panicked by the arrival of a not-insignificant force so close to his base without his noticing.
"Mandalorian force, this is Commander Trevis of Imperial Fleet Maintenance Station Phindar. We were not informed of any reinforcements arriving here today. Declare your purpose."
None of the Mandalorian pilots replied, the assault formation continuing on its pace and heading. The station itself loomed into view, a speck on the surface of the planet that became more and more prominent as the four Imperial-Class Star Destroyers loomed into view. Not as many as there could have been, but half the strength of a sector fleet was no small force.
Also held within the gravitational locks of the station were eight Arquitens-Class Imperial Command Cruisers.
Yes, this attack was shaping up to be exactly what they hoped it might have been.
"Mandalorian Force, I say again, identify yourselves or cease your approach; if you do not, I will be forced to deploy TIE Fighters."
That was Sabine's cue.
"Commander Trevis, this is Lady Sabine Wren of the Mandalorian Resistance."
She paused for effect, and Percy sent Reyna a look. She wouldn't see it, of course, his face obscured by his helmet, but when she looked back at him, he knew that she was just as impressed as he was.
"This is Mandalorian space, as it always has been. Your TIE Fighters are intruders, which will be shot down and your base will return to our rightful control."
Pointing the nose of his Kom'rk down, Percy accelerated below the escort cordon, the two other ships carrying Kryze warriors following in his wake.
A detachment of the Fighter escort reduced altitude slightly, setting an intercept path for the Imperial Hangar. The datalink showed that their targeting computers had already locked in on the entrance.
Nothing would even get close to the strike package. Not if they had anything to say about it.
A series of Proton Torpedoes thundered into the base, knocking out the hangar doors, the tower and the main barracks.
Instantly, the Mandalorian pilots could see the alarms blaring, and the locks tightened, the main Imperial safeguard being the one against their ships being stolen.
The Star Destroyers were trapped, held down by the systems designed to keep them safe.
Percy heard someone let out a wild laugh over the net.
"Drop team, prepare to go," he announced over the local net. "Give the kriffers hell."
Reyna flicked the switches above her head. The bay doors in the cabin behind them would open, the ingenious system of seats being lowered down from the ceiling and suspending the team of twenty below the spacecraft.
It was designed specifically for Mandalorians, or more accurately, Jet Troopers. The benefit of the system was that the soldiers within could deploy at high altitude and speed, inserting into the battlefield under the power of their own jetpacks. The Kom'rks would simply keep flying, either engaging aerial targets or providing close air support for ground troops at the pilot's discretion.
Humans barely showed up on standard Radar, preventing anti-air systems from getting a lock. The Jetpacks themselves were also ideal, the heat signature not large enough to show up on normal heat-seeking weapons systems.
In summary, the Mandalorians were free to engage with weapons specially designed for this exact scenario, against enemy troops who were likely unprepared, equipped with inferior firepower, and under bombardment not only from small arms, but air support and guided munitions.
The Imperial forces stood no chance.
Imperial Fleet Maintenance Station, Phindar System, 2 BBY
Sabine watched the first Star Destroyer go down to the first strike team. They would be picked up by their Gauntlet team when the Clan Rook warriors had taken the second objective, so that they could take on the fourth and final Star Destroyer. The strike teams would keep rotating through like that, just like they'd planned, until they'd killed or captured everything on the base.
"Prepare for drop," the pilot of her Kom'rk told them over the net. For Sabine, this was her first ever Kom'rk drop. Even as low as it was, there was a thrill to it, seeing the ground hurtling past you as the doors opened, being lowered down below the hull.
Then, the clasps disengaged.
She launched off, just as she'd done so many times in rehearsals for the assault, and there it was, the Star Destroyer out in front of her.
She reached behind her, drawing the Darksaber from where it was clipped to her back, and she held it out in front of her.
She'd never understood what Ezra meant about the blade singing to him, but by the Manda, she could feel it responding to her, like she was an old friend.
The warriors rallied behind her, some sixty warriors of Clan Kast going in, guns blazing.
A barrage of aerial fire from their dropships took out the anti-air guns, and the few Stormtroopers and Imperial Naval Officers who had escaped the initial bombardment were pinned down by suppressing fire. One ensign wrestled desperately with the controls of the Gravitational Locks, his panic evident as he constantly looked between the panel that he was fumbling with, and the troops who bore down upon him.
The panel flashed green. The Ensign turned for the boarding ramp, wearing an expression of victory.
A yellow laser bolt caught him full in the face.
He fell to the floor.
The Kast warriors touched down behind her on the upper hull of the Star Destroyer, and suddenly it was a ground battle.
A pair of warriors bent down at the hip, the missiles in their jetpacks engaging at the press of a button and smashing out the main viewports. The glass exploded inwards, likely wounding those within if they weren't killed outright by the deadly shrapnel.
Like a well-oiled machine, they broke up into fire teams, the last warriors to touch down knocking down the main armaments of the now live Star Destroyer, while the rest went to storm the bridge.
Jetpacks engaged once more, and Sabine was the first in, her sabre out in front of her.
"Rig it," she commanded the next few to enter, putting down a pair of deck officers who had risen from behind a command console, blasters raised.
Cassian Kast stopped beside her, removing his helmet and brushing his blond hair out of his face.
"She's rigged up to go, M'lady," he told her. "Munitions linked remotely to my vambraces."
"Good," she replied simply. "Get ready to mount back up. I want some Cruisers to take home."
"Roger that, Lady Wren," he smirked, relaying the message back over the comms.
Imperial Fleet Maintenance Station, Phindar System, 2 BBY
Reyna pulled the Kryze strike team back within the Striil with a flick of a switch, the whooping of the warriors in the back a sign of just how well the strike had gone.
Their next target, however, would quite probably be a little harder than the first one had been.
"It's taking off," she observed aloud to Percy, who hummed in agreement. They'd seen Imperial-Class vessels since their initial introduction. Hell, she'd helped design the things, back in the days of the Clone Wars.
"Bring up the Aloriya," Percy instructed over the comm as he gunned the engines. "Time for the Imps to see just what we can do when we mean business."
Reyna's eyes widened, then she smirked.
Of course, they'd used the Aloriya for this purpose before. Namely, when they'd taken down the Emperor's Fist.
The problem, however, was that the energy store within wasn't big enough to support both of the Electronic Warfare systems and the Duchess.
If the Empire realised that their jammers were down, they could get a message through.
It mattered little at the moment, of course. There were contingencies in place; an entire secondary strike force led by Poseidon Tritonis and Auriel Eldar prepared to move at a minute's notice.
The Aloriya engaged.
The Star Destroyer had started to crumble when the comms panel in front of Reyna began to beep. She tore her eyes away from the awe-inspiring sight in front of her; the Arc Pulse Generator's deadly rays, set in the foreground of the Proton Torpedoes of a Protector's Fang Starfighter lighting up an Arquitens.
"It's an Imperial frequency," she observed, turning to Percy. "Sent to anyone listening."
"Patch it through to Command," he said.
They heard the message too, Sabine evidently having forgotten to turn her helmet's comms off after she'd come out of the fight and back onto her Gauntlet.
The Captain was begging for mercy, offering his surrender.
The Bridge of the Star Destroyer was glowing red-hot by now, the glass of the viewport melting off the durasteel frame. Another Arquitens went down, pummelled to failure where it was locked down by the Gauntlets providing air support to a Rook combat team.
Sabine spoke only two words. The Captain must have heard it, as his whimpering ceased instantly.
"No mercy."
The Star Destroyer hit the ground, systems overloaded, crew dead.
Imperial Fleet Maintenance Station, Phindar System, 2 BBY
"Two times Arquitens captured," Fenn Rau informed them over the Comms. "One left. What do we do with it?"
"Destroy it," Sabine ordered. "We have no use for it, and no manpower to operate it."
"Roger," Rau replied, launching the Proton Torpedo that put it down himself.
"Prepare for Exfil," she announced. "Head to point Zero-Six and initiate Hyperspace jump."
The fighters checked off, soaring up and away from the destruction that they'd wrought.
She looked out of the open bay doors at the burning, cratered base, thick plumes of dark smoke curling into the air in their wake. They'd never done anything with Phoenix Squadron, even when they'd been big enough to compete with this strike force numerically.
The Rebel cell just wasn't well-enough equipped, no specialist ground-attack craft except for a few battered Clone War-era Y-Wings. Their soldiers were volunteers, trained over a period of weeks, not years.
She was brought from her musings by the bay doors closing below her, the sky darkening as they entered the lower atmosphere of the planet, where the suction of space would drag any loose equipment into the void.
Getting to her feet, she walked across to the door of the troop cabin, leaving the warriors falling asleep in their seats, the adrenaline dump taking its course. They would celebrate later, of course, but for now their bodies were too exhausted from the rigours of battle to be bothered.
It was almost as though there was some kind of 'bad luck' charm attached to her entering the bridge after a fight, though.
It always seemed to happen on the Ghost as she left the tail gunner's chair too, some kind of Imperial Superweapon dropping out of space.
This time, though, it seemed to be even bigger than anything she'd ever been confronted with.
She knew that Star Destroyers were big enough to launch a planetary bombardment.
This thing looked big enough to knock out a star, even an entire system.
Shaped like a massive wedge, its dimensions defied belief.
"What the kriff is that?" the pilot asked.
"I don't want to stick around to find out," Sabine replied, switching her comms on. "All elements, get the kriff out of here!"
A few jumped instantly, accompanied by the captured Cruisers.
Then, her own ship jolted violently, throwing her into the instruments panel in front of her.
"Tractor beam!" the pilot exclaimed. "We're stuck!"
"Rebel Vessel, this is Rear-Admiral Alabaster Torrington of Super Star Destroyer Death Mist," a cold voice declared. "Surrender, and perhaps you will be treated with the respect that warriors are due. Resist, and you will die a smouldering wreck."
"Hold off, Lady Wren, prepare to jump!"
She recognised the voice; it was the pilot of the Aloriya.
It raced across her field of view, a pair of fighters by its side knocking out a series of TIEs that had deployed from one of the many hangars on the Super Star Destroyer.
Streaking off behind the pride of their fleet was Percy's own Kom'rk, weaving in and out of sickly green blaster bolts ever closer to the Destroyer's hull.
"Kryze Strike Team going in, weapons hot," the voice of Bo-Katan Kryze said, steely in its resolve as she always was.
Sabine cursed.
They were doing this for her.
She watched, helpless, as the doors opened, a pair of Fang Starfighters shooting past the Striil to cover the Kryze Jet Troopers.
Once they were away, Percy and Reyna reverted to an air support role, darting within the Super Star Destroyer's shields and slaloming a daring route through the various pulse generators and gun batteries, brightly coloured explosions left in their wake as the pair destroyed as much as they possibly could, their ship using weapons that she couldn't even name to prosecute targets with impunity.
Bo-Katan's strike team were doing exactly the same, engaging Imperial Jet Troopers on the hull of the vessel, and Sabine's heart panged as she saw a Kryze warrior fall to red blaster fire.
Another went down as she tried to draw her fallen comrade to cover, and the Kryze warriors re-engaged with renewed vigour. They'd lost two of their own. Manda damn them if they lost any more.
Then, Sabine had a moment of clarity.
"Get me Aloriya," she told her pilot.
"My Lady?" he asked, dumbfounded.
"You heard me," she reiterated, pounding the back of his seat with a closed fist. "Now kriffing do it. Your brothers and sisters are dying, soldier."
He patched her through with trembling hands, caught in the sheer stress of battle.
"This is Aloriya," Delphin replied. "Your orders, My Lady?"
"Set the Duchess to knock out the tractor beam," Sabine instructed. "Once it is down, take out the shield. Engage the hull to cover our escape. You will have all the fighter support possible. Do you understand, Delphin?"
"I do, M'lady," the grizzled old pilot replied. "It is my honour to serve."
The Arc Pulse Generator whirred to life, its beam homing in on the tractor beam as instructed.
"Get out, now!" she hollered at the pilot. "Cover Delphin. Everyone's lives depend on it!"
Rau's fighter streaked across her field of view, spinning foils whirring faster than she'd thought possible as the veteran Protector weaved in between the debris of his fallen victims and those who would soon join that category. His wingman barely kept up, picking off anything that evaded Rau's brutal track.
Somehow, the fight that they were in was an entirely losing one, yet the veterans around her seemed to maintain an aura of control.
The Radar on the control panel picked up Percy's Kom'rk, still within the boundaries of the shields of the Death Mist, pursued by what seemed to be an ever-increasing swarm of TIE Fighters.
She could make out Bo-Katan's team, now down to twelve still engaging a force of Stormtroopers over six times their number. An explosion ripped through their battle as Reyna dropped a concussion bomb on the hatch on the hull that the Imperial soldiers were using to reach them.
Sabine breathed. They'd been bought some time.
"Striil, pick up your troops," Sabine instructed as Delphin reported the shields going down. "All Resistance vessels to open fire on SSD Hull on my mark."
"Affirmative, My Lady," Reyna replied, relaying the message to Bo-Katan on the hull.
Sabine could only watch with a sense of wonder as the Kryze warriors beat a fighting retreat, deploying smoke to obscure their path while the Striil seemed to loose any and all ammunition at its disposal to hold off the pursuing Jet Troopers. Instantly, there was a flaming cordon of explosives barring any approach for the Imperial troopers.
Eight Kryze warriors carried fallen or wounded comrades, covered by the ship and their still-fit fellow warriors as they flew into the open drop cabin of the Striil.
Another Fang went down, quickly avenged by its wingman. The pilot cursed on the net, flaring twice and dropping chaff as she evaded a TIE interceptor, and then drifting sideways to force the overshoot and pick off her pursuer.
"Everybody out," Sabine ordered. "Aloriya, disengage when you've reached jump coordinates."
"Roger," Delphin replied, swinging the nose of his ship around to join the remaining Mandalorian craft as they completed their fighting retreat.
Sabine only allowed herself to relax when the reassuring swirl of Hyperspace filled her ship's viewport.
Mandalorian Resistance Fleet, Hyperspace, 2 BBY
"Bo-Katan?" she asked hopefully over the open comm.
"Still here," the weary Lady of Clan Kryze replied. "Exhausted, battered, bruised, but still here kiddo."
"Rau?"
"Much the same, Lady Wren," the veteran pilot agreed. "Four Protectors lost. It would have been more if it weren't for you and Delphin. A masterful move."
"You did good out there, Sabine," Percy agreed. "The pilots and fighters we lost knew the risks. It would have been more if you hadn't stepped in," he paused, adding in an afterthought. "And even more if it weren't Kryze warriors, led by Bo herself."
"The fancy flying helped, Tritonis," Bo-Katan shot back. "Reyna, remind me not to get on your bad side. Some of that shab you were dropping was scary."
"Alright, save the chat for when we're back with the fleet," Rau cut in, though Sabine could hear the smile in his voice. "We make rendezvous in five, four, three, two…"
They dropped out of hyperspace, the welcoming sight of Kalevala out in front of them.
Kalevala, Mandalore System, 2 BBY
The sight of the rest of the fleet made Percy smile. They had taken losses, yes, but it was thanks to the quick thinking of a large number of those involved in the raid that they had evacuated the largest Troop Carriers, their newly captured Cruisers, first. The fifty or so who had been left behind had fought valiantly, managing to get out with losses that appeared miraculously low, considering the fact that they'd been intercepted by a Super Star Destroyer.
"All incoming Resistance elements, proceed to the following coordinates," the Kryze Ground Controllers told the fleet over an open comm.
There, they would receive food, fuel and maintenance to those who were able to take it. More importantly, the wounded and dead would be tended to, a team of specialist medics on site to try and save whoever they could.
They set down not far from the Kryze Stronghold, and once more Percy was struck by just how beautiful Kalevala was, with its crashing waves and towering cliffs.
The ramp dropped, opening the Striil to friendly space for the first time since they had left Krownest. Medics rushed in, already having been briefed that his was the ship to drop warriors onto the hull of the Star Destroyer that had cut off the fleet's escape. Those who were still alive were passed on by their relieved comrades.
After all, they had a far better chance of survival under the watchful eye of the medics than they did in the care of their exhausted comrades.
Bo-Katan caught up with Percy and Reyna as they headed towards the temporary building that had been set up to serve as a debriefing hall and decontamination centre. It was easy to get lost in the Stronghold, and, quite frankly, the Kryze heads hadn't wanted to be dealing with a scenario where someone got lost, or worse, accosted within their fortress. It was unlikely, of course, but it wasn't a chance they wanted to take.
Armies were unpredictable that way.
Kryze Stronghold, Kalevala, Mandalore System, 2 BBY
"Fifteen casualties," Cassian Kast reported. "Seven dead, the rest wounded, three severely."
"Their names will be remembered in song," Fenn Rau said. "Four were Protectors. Their losses will not be in vain."
"The remaining three lost their lives in the military action taken by Lady Kryze, as well as Perseus and Reyna Tritonis, after the introduction of the Imperial Superweapon."
"This is true," Bo-Katan bowed her head in sorrow. "Action was needed, and prior to Lady Wren's direction of the Arc Pulse Generator, it was the best course of action possible; to disrupt the integrity of the enemy's shields, and to incapacitate their heavy weaponry."
"I'll be the first to recognise Perseus' skill in doing so,'' Marel Rook acknowledged, nodding in Percy and Reyna's direction, the latter struggling to stay awake as her own adrenaline high came crashing down.
"To take on a vessel so powerful without leaving its shields, and in a Kom'rk? Most would struggle to do what you did in a Fang, let alone wreaking the havoc that the two of you managed, while providing close air support the whole time."
"I don't think we could have done anything else," Percy replied, face still as stone, though he nodded in appreciation of the acknowledgement. "The Aloriya was exposed, the Command ship captured and the Protectors engaged by severe anti-air fire."
Now, Sabine stepped forwards, removing her helmet.
"We lost people," she began solemnly. "Warriors who fought and bled alongside us. We can't forget them. We also can't forget that we've now established ourselves as a credible threat, not only depleting the Empire's fighting power in the sector, but proving that this new superweapon of theirs isn't enough to contain us."
There were stamps of booted feet on the ground, clashes of Beskar vambraces creating a din as two hundred warriors made known their approval. Sabine held up a hand for silence, and the noise died down.
"This was a small fraction of our number, not even using all our dropships. We have four more of the weapon that neutralised a Super Star Destroyer's shields, and now two Cruisers, large enough to move an Expeditionary Force capable of taking an entire planet."
More noise, even some cheers.
"We grow stronger day by day, with warriors that are better equipped, better skilled and better motivated than the entire Imperial Army! Commanders who give Thrawn and Tarkin nightmares!"
The noise had risen to a roar.
"Tiber Saxon's life is hanging on a string. He'll pay for his defection. Glory to Mandalore!"
She saluted, banging an armoured fist into her chest and bowing her head.
The assembled warriors mirrored her in unison.
Imperial Headquarters, Lothal, Lothal Sector, 2 BBY
"Grand Admiral, we've been sent intelligence from the Sixth Fleet," Kallus told Thrawn. He had seen the footage himself, and had taken great pleasure in seeing the Mandalorian Sector Fleet halved in number.
"Mandalore?" Thrawn asked, raising an eyebrow. "Some petty political dispute is of little importance, Kallus."
"They appear to have united, Grand Admiral," Kallus told him. "We see evidence of at least five previously loyal clans present here. I've seen the footage. It doesn't make for pleasant viewing."
The Chiss Officer gestured for it to be played, waving a hand towards his holoprojector.
It started rolling, a series of images presenting both the initial strike, as well as footage from the Super Star Destroyer's bridge.
The Grand Admiral watched it in silence, often pausing it, rolling back over individual frames and tutting as he noticed errors in the Imperial defence.
"They used our own defences against us," he observed. "A tactic that seems to have come from Sabine Wren's playbook, unless I am mistaken. She stands out among the party who destroyed the second Star Destroyer. Notice the Gauntlet-Class Fighter which carries the Arc Pulse Generator. The Duchess, they call it. Its name is Aloriya - a tribute to the Mandalorian Capital, Sundari. An indicator of their future targets, if their strategy is anything to go by."
"It appears as though there were no other Wren warriors present, though," Kallus pointed out. "Imperial records number that clan at some four hundred, and Mandalorians are all trained from birth to fight. The whole force could number in the thousands."
Thrawn rubbed his chin in thought. "A credible threat, then," he remarked. "I look forward to the day that I meet their warriors in the theatre of battle."
Kallus grimaced, scrambling to change the topic, not keen one of Thrawn's drawn out lectures on war.
"How is your search for the traitor going?" he offered. "Would you like any further ISB resources dedicated to the case? My own leadership on it, perhaps?"
"That will not be necessary," Thrawn dismissed. "I have my own agents investigating the matter. Tell me, Agent, who has been named Grand Admiral Jackson's successor?"
Kallus smirked. This piece of information he did know.
"Torrington," he replied simply. "He wasn't happy with how badly they damaged his ship. Apparently he has a score to settle."
"How quaint," Thrawn remarked, his lip curling with a hint of amusement. "I am sure that an Imperial researcher from Coruscant will do an admirable job against a Rebellion, Super Star Destroyer or not."
A/N
Right, apologies for the gap, it's been a while, and not all that time's been spent with access to my laptop. I wasn't about to struggle through another post off my tablet. Just not worth the formatting time that last chapter took up.
This chapter has a decent bit to unpack, so let's do it, shall we?
Maul's death is interesting. One option was to just skip over it, but Maul is so intrinsic to the Animated universe that it was just needed.
Nico's existence in this story, though, means that even when Kanan doesn't catch Ezra messing with Holocrons, there's a load of others who can. You might have noticed in a previous chapter, Nico appears to distract Ezra by sending him off to train with Atalanta. You'll see some results of that later in the Rebels portion of the story for sure, but equally, Ezra feels like he's becoming stronger (the reason he turned to the Holocron in canon) without the dark influence.
Clever, eh? I'd like to think so, anyway. End result is that Ezra and Maul never actually join the holocrons, Kenobi's secret remains just that. The duel, though, is pretty much Nico flexing on the haters. I was never much of a fan of him in canon, but writing him here has converted me.
Some people were suggesting in the FFN comments that Sabine should give Percy the saber, I disagree.
OP Percy is always fun, yes, but really, when was Percy (either in canon or most fanfics) ever one to chase power? He's got the desire to do good, yes, but not to be the sole leader of anything. Besides, Nico didn't train her for her to just pass the thing off.
I think that just about sums it up?
Thanks as always to Dudududhehe for his help, check out his stuff on FFN if you haven't already.
Until next time, then,
Sol
(I do not own PJO, Star Wars or any related media)