Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Star Wars movies, shows, books, comics or games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not for sale, or rent. The Mobile Armors, and later Mobile Suits mentioned in the story are inspired by the various Gundam shows. They obviously belong to their respective creators, and, or copyright owners.
Chapter 4
=FG=
Part 1
=FG=
bridge
NRS MC80 Liberty class "Freedom's cry"
Cal-Seti system
Torranix sector
The swarm of enemy strike craft pulled back, allowing the Republic fleet to accelerate away from them. All save for, Dawn of Victory, which kept falling back with her engines destroyed or critically damaged.
"Recover the surviving fighters. Disperse them through our intact capital ships. I want their sensor logs removed and saved in multiple locations." Hudsol's voice sounded hollow in his ears. What he just experienced, what his command suffered, it should have been impossible. No force in the galaxy could slaughter nearly five hundred top-of-the-line fighters and bombers in such a short time. Certainly not a handful of Star Destroyers and mostly obsolete escorts!
That was bad enough. Even after losing his small craft, Hudsol still had the numbers and firepower to win a capital ship slugging match. The results there spoke for themselves. Save for whatever beam weapon the Imps used to cripple A New Dawn, he had been indeed winning decisively. That was until those impossible strike craft just blew up one of his Nebulon-B frigates, and fell upon Dawn of Victory like a pack of rabid hounds. Those Bulwark battleships were bricks of armor, further protected by strong shields, and they bristled with weapons of all kinds. Yet, one of them was now combat-ineffective with her engines shot up.
"General, we're being hailed."
"Put it up," Hudsol growled through gritted teeth. He still had the numbers, and firepower to win this, didn't he?
"General Hudsol, the capabilities we demonstrated so far, should be proof enough we're not part of this Galactic Empire of yours. I will say this once. Stand down, leave our space or face the consequences. Enough good people died today because of your stubbornness."
Hudsol looked at the tactical plot. A tactical lightspeed jump right in the Imp's faces and then battering them down with superior firepower could do the trick. Unfortunately, that would still leave the issue of those infernal strike craft. Perhaps he could wait just until they landed to rearm, then jump in and deal with the Imps?
There was an issue with that. While he had the position where the enemy jumped deep within the system, they wouldn't be staying in place. More importantly, Hudsol didn't have real-time sensor images showing what they were doing. If this was a friendly system, or if he had scouts spread throughout the system, that wouldn't have been an issue. They would have been able to give him more up-to-date information, or even real-time one.
Instead, what he had on his tactical plot was a slowly growing blob. It designated the possible locations of the enemy fleet if it went to full engine burn as soon as they exited hyperspace.
"Tactical, analysis of those strike craft. How many did we take out? How long exactly did it take them to cripple Dawn of Victory?" The General demanded.
"Our remaining fighters are about to enter lightspeed and jump to our starboard," Comms announced.
"Make sure it's them, and don't shoot our X-Wings," Hudsol noted aloud.
"Sir, it took them a single squadron pass to destroy a Nebulon-B. The Dawn of Victory lost her engines within two minutes of hard contact." The Commander paused. "General, we've got many confirmations about her AA guns scoring hits, yet no claimed kills. I've got a composite sensor picture of the engagement for you, sir."
"Put it on the main holo tank."
Hudsol watched large, oddly aerodynamic shapes come at an angle towards an optical sensor, followed by an ovoid shape that might have been the size of a small freighter. The enemy's largest strike craft were small enough to avoid the heavy weapons of a capital ship. That was unless sheer bad luck was involved. AA emplacements opened up, lighting the space around the large Bulwark with laser fire.
Most of the shots missed their targets due to the speed of the incoming attack and the ECM they used. AA weapons couldn't draw on the capital ship's main reactor power for their sensors to quickly burn through ECM when in effective weapon range.
Silver lances shot from the black ships. They would have been invisible if it wasn't for the bright glow of their engines. The battleship's shields lit up and predictably held. However, the energy discharge was enough to briefly degrade targeting sensors. The resulting glow forced even the optical ones to readjust before roughly focusing on the approaching ships. At that point, they opened fire from box launchers, launching salvos of proton torpedoes. The Bulwark flank lit up in explosions. While its heavy armor mostly held, weapon emplacements and sensor clusters vanished in blossoming explosions.
The sensor image changed. Now, the holo tank displayed an optical sensor looking down upon the large engine pods of the battleship.
Strange-looking strike craft of different types came towards the engines at a steep angle, and turned around, just in time to avoid burning into the engine wake. Acceleration quickly ensured that they fell back from the Bulwark, which still advanced at combat speed. It didn't matter. The enemy strike craft was at point-blank range of the engines for more than long enough to salvo hundreds of proton torpedoes and large missiles at them.
Capital ship engines were built tough. They had to be to survive the energies they produced and channeled to propel kilometers long massive vessels forward. Nevertheless, the punishment they faced now was beyond what they were designed to handle. Three of the engine pods blew up. Only the trade-off of placing them on relatively small pylons away from the main, brick-like body of the battleship, saved it from heavy secondary explosions. Nevertheless, with only two remaining damaged engines, the warship fell out of formation, unable to keep up its acceleration.
"X-Wings are entering the barn. Count two-zero…" A harrowed voice forced Hudsol attention away from the holo-tank.
Twenty fighters would be unable to stop that many strike craft, especially if those nightmares had escorts. However, they might just buy him enough time to destroy the enemy fleet. Then, without a source of resupply, those things would be much less dangerous. To ensure they would be unable to rearm on Cal-Seti, the General contemplated launching his ground forces. He was still burning hard on an approach that would soon put him in a high orbit above the planet…
"Orders, General?" The Captain demanded.
"Get us to high orbit above the local port. Prepare our ground forces for emergency deployment. I want the starport secured, yesterday. We'll soften it with Ion cannon strikes. Get the X-Wings repaired and rearmed. I want them on CAP ASAP, and don't forget to download their sensor logs. We need to secure this system against this new Imperial faction. At this point, it doesn't matter if they're remnants of Palpatine's butchers, or from the other part of the galaxy. Our damaged MC30 is to make a run for the hyper-lane leading to Coruscant with copies of our combat logs. Transmit them now. And if at all possible, connect to the holonet and give me a channel to Home One. We need reinforcements yesterday!"
=FG=
CIC
FEW PSD Palpatine's Honor
Cal-Seti system
Torranix sector
By the time Piett turned his task force around, there had been still no response from Hudsol. This didn't change when his strike craft returned and did emergency landings to commence rapid rearmament.
"Damn that bastard! People let's give the enemy another reason to get out of Imperial space. Navigation, plot us a course to the crippled battleship. CAGs, you have a new tasking. I want the main hangar of that thing cracked open, and its AA suppressed. Regimental commanders, prepare your forces for boarding action. Your target is a modified Bulwark variant. Take the CIC, bridge, and engineering to prevent its crew from scuttling it. Neutralize all resistance, but do not kill anyone trying to surrender. If at all possible, take as many officers and engineers as prisoners. Keep in mind, standard boarding ROEs apply."
=FG=
Part 2
=FG=
Ramsees Hed
Cal-Seti
Cal-Seti System
Torranix sector
The piercing howl of alarms carried over the starport, the sea it towered over on one side, as well as the outskirts of the nearby capital city. That by itself wasn't surprising. Everyone in the small garrison knew a New Republic fleet entered the system. However, until now, Jake wasn't sure if all the rumors he heard about the Rebels, and the New Republic stunt they were trying to pull were true.
"Troopers, the enemy is deploying ground forces planetside as we speak." Commandant Jaxx's voice was much firmer and more confident than Jake had ever heard it before. "The battle in space is going better than anticipated considering the large fleet the New Republic brought to subjugate this place. Barring an unexpected disaster, the best the enemy can hope for is a mutual annihilation in space… and Federated Empire reinforcements are closer than Republic ones. All we have to do is hold this spaceport. And we will hold it!" The Commandant briefly paused. "We're likely to receive a large number of prisoners and wounded both from the battle in space, and from the enemy attempt to take this facility. Stormtroopers, prepare empty warehouses to act as detention centers and first aid stations. Get it done, people!"
Jake got to it. He and his squad went into the nearest empty warehouse and stormed in.
"This is going to be a detention center. Mark all other ways in and out. Federal engineers will be along shortly to seal them, and make sure there's enough ventilation not to get everyone stuck in there suffocated." The Sergeant barked.
Jake didn't even know the man's name. He had rarely seen him out of armor. It was like one of those stories from basic, but true. As far as anyone knew, no one had heard the Sergeant addressed in any way other than his rank, or number. Rarely did anyone see him out of his armor for all the good it would do him in combat? That was almost enough to make Jake believe the Empire didn't clone its Sergeants, as some claimed, but worse – that they were really like bacteria, that spawned more of their kind to make trooper's lives miserable!
Besides, it wasn't like anyone was going to bother to clone the Sergeant, right?
Despite his odd thoughts, Jake did as ordered. He found a side entrance, and a large stuck window, that could be used as an ingress point, and dutifully reported it. After that, the Sergeant briefly spoke with a bunch of people in bulky power armor, who soon jogged inside.
At that point, the Sergeant briefly stiffened, listening to someone. He pointed at the far wall.
"The Rebels have sent a lot of landing craft heading for the area between the city and us. We're to reinforce the outer perimeter. Form on me, and look alive!" The Sergeant bargked.
Hover vehicles buzzed past, heading for the waterfront. Jake noted their off weapon configuration – it was similar to the IFVs he saw yesterday, yet their armament was different. Each had raised quad laser cannons in a turret, with two large box launchers fixed to the side. In contrast, the other hovercraft, while built on the same body, had a smaller turret with a single cannon, which wasn't raised anywhere this much. The box launchers it had were also smaller and shorter.
On the way to the wall, a column of walkers caught up with them.
"Climb up, and hold on!" A vehicle Commander shouted at them. He was on top of an open hatch, looking ridiculous sticking out of an elongated turret with a very long gun. "You Stormtroopers are providing infantry support today. Just keep AT and demo teams away from us, and we'll take care of any enemy vehicles coming our way."
"You heard him. Climb up. There are hand-holds on the side of the body!" The Sergeant shouted.
"The troop compartment's empty. Get in from the back." The Commander shouted back, and his upper torso vanished into the turret.
A brief, surprisingly comfortable ride later, found Jake and his buddies near the star port's main entrance.
"Brace for impact!" Someone shouted.
Jake looked wildly around, his heart hammering within his chest. The only cover he found was under the walker. He rolled between its six, thankfully still, legs, just in time for a blinding flash to illuminate everything. If it wasn't for his helmet's lenses' built-in protection, Jake was sure he might have been blinded.
The flashes kept coming one after another, and soon electricity cracked through the air. Jack blinked spots off his eyes and dared look around. The starport had a shield generator. It was on, and holding! Kind of – lighting forked below the shield, which was now visibly glowing.
"We've got incoming hovercraft – light tanks and APCs!" A different voice shouted.
There was one last flash, and the bombardment stopped. Jake blinked owlishly, looking around, and trying to figure out why they were still alive.
"Look alive soldiers! The enemy is coming! Weapons' free!"
The walker lumbered forward, prompting Jake to scamper back to his feet and get out of underneath it.
"Stormtrooper, you stick up to that walker as if your life depends on it!" A giant in a power armor snapped at Jake, who wisely agreed, and immediately changed direction.
This was nothing like training, and the few simple boarding actions he had been part of before! It was closer to a gang war but deadlier, and with all these shinny war machines striding over the battlefield!
The walker opened fire, and a blinding silver beam of energy shot off from the odd tip of the long cannon. It slammed into a small form coming in fast. A shield briefly glowed in front of it, before the beam burned through, pierced the vehicle, and it blew up.
Missiles howled from various points behind the walls surrounding the spaceport and headed towards targets outside.
=FG=
NRS Dawn of Victor, Bulwark III class
Cal-Seti system
Torranix sector
Piett's task force exited lightspeed slightly behind the crippled battleship. Before the battlegroup could turn around to chase it down, the Imperial ships launched over a hundred fighters and strike craft. They accelerated towards their target and soon swarmed it. Behind them, dozens of assault shuttles followed suit. More than half of them headed for where the main hangars of a Bulwark should be, while the rest of them went searching secondary deployment points. Mass deployment of proton torpedoes, concussion missiles, and the odd anti-matter warhead, soon saw the battleship stripped from most of its sensors, most of its AA weapons, and many heavy cannon emplacements.
By the time the strike craft did their job, the Bulwark was largely a de-fanged lump of metal ponderously drifting in Cal-Seti's general direction. At that point, assault shuttles attached themselves to the hull like small parasites and began digging into weak points.
Most of the transports headed for the hangar, which was still sealed. Despite the best effort of the small craft, its heavy doors were deformed and cracked by explosions, but still held. This state of affairs lasted until a light cruiser flushed its capital-class missiles at it. The resulting explosions tore large chunks of armor, blasting them within the huge hangar. The transports wasted no time and flew through. Then, they rapidly decelerated and opened their rear ramps. Dozens of power-armored soldiers jumped out, while the leading shuttles launched smoke canisters, obscuring the corner of the hangar. Behind them, atmospheric shielding flickered to life, keeping the atmosphere within the battleship.
=FG=
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