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 3

=FG=

NRS Dawn of Victory, Bulwark III class
Cal-Seti system
Torranix sector

Ten assault shuttles unleashed hell within the battleship's hangar. Box launchers rapidly expended their contents, aiming at shuttles, hover tanks, the odd walker, and a handful of huge wheeled assault transports. Chin-mounted laser cannons shredded parked vehicles, and any unlucky engineer or soldier in the vicinity.

As soon as the assault shuttles expended their missiles, they launched smoke canisters, creating a wall of silver smoke full of metallic flakes meant to confuse all kinds of sensors. At the same time, their rear ramps opened, so power-armored infantry could deploy with their gear.

In two cases, the Imperial troopers either pushed back a large container with attached repulsorlift units or carried much smaller crates with a glowing display. Specialists quickly activated their special gear, and the small crates opened, revealing neatly stacked missiles and a pair of tiny, spherical scout droids. The machines came to life with quiet beeps and rose nearly up to the ceiling, then dashed through the smoke. The Specialists waited five seconds and unleashed the micro-missiles, which darted into the smoke as well. As soon as they passed through, the smart munitions went searching targets found and designated by the scout droids. Surviving vehicles and Republic personnel thus found themselves chased by small suicidal munitions. A crescendo of explosions followed, with missiles darting and detonating all over the hangar bay.

At that point, the shock-troopers ran through the smoke, seeking the nearest cover, scanning for survivors. Their ROEs were simple – capture the ship's critical areas, taking out everyone on their path. Once that was done, taking prisoners was not only authorized but required.

Of course, engineering was a special case – the use of stun settings and concussion grenades was strongly advised while storming it. The same was true for the bridge and CIC, conditional on the strength of effective resistance faced until reaching those compartments.

Behind the smoke curtain, the large container finally opened, disgorging thousands of buzzers. The bug-like droids initially created by the CIS, and loved by the Black Rebellion, were now a staple of FE tactics during boarding actions. The fist-sized horrors were simply too useful not to use.

The buzzers swarmed into the smoke, seeking vents to infiltrate, so they could spread throughout the ship. In case the boarding action hit a snag, their job was to cripple the battleships as much as possible. Otherwise, they were to aid the boarders by offering distractions, opening or sealing doors, and generally causing mayhem.

And if the boarding parties for some reason felt particularly spiteful that day, they could unleash the buzzers on the crew. The damned things had built-in lasers that in numbers allowed them to swarm over and cut to pieces even power-armored shock-troopers.

=FG=

bridge
NRS Dawn of Victory, Bulwark III class
Cal-Seti system
Torranix sector

Barely controlled chaos reigned within the bridge.

"We're twenty percent combat effective! Enemy ships are decelerating and falling behind, out of range."

"We lost control of the main hangar. Estimated losses of material and personnel are 100%. Boarding parties are spreading throughout the ship!"

"Commander Scrio's troops are still mobilizing. He expects that his quick reaction force will begin containing the boarders within the next few minutes."

Captain Ventura's right hand twitched, nervously waiting to brush his horns for reassurance they were still there. This was insane! Who boarded a massive battleship?!

"Get Scrio to reinforce main engineering, auxiliary control, and the bridge, yesterday!" The Zabrak Captain shook himself from the shock and ordered. "Locate the boarding parties and slow them down by sealing all doors in their path, then vector in infantry to contain and destroy them!"

"Put the ship's schematics in the holo-tank and show us where the intruders are, as well as their progress. We're in no position to do anything about the enemy fleet, and they aren't going to shoot us while they are boarding us." The XO reasonably suggested.

"Make it so!" Ventura ordered. His brown eyes went to the holo-tank, just in time to see it flicker and show the Dawn in all her crippled glory. For a moment, the Captain could see huge red spots covering his ship, showing areas devastated by enemy fire. Then the image became transparent, showing a wire-frame construct of the internal decks and corridors. The hangar was blinking in black, with poisonous tendrils showing where the boarders were going. At least ten other smaller areas all over the ship were black as well, where individual boarding parties had breached the damaged hull.

Many blue dots designated lightly armed security teams, and a few green swarms showed the infantry reaching their armories, or even better, the quick reaction force already moving to intercept the boarders.

"Get me internal cameras. I need to know what we're dealing with." Ventura demanded.

"Camera feed is up now, sir."

Ventura beheld hell itself.

He could see a squad from the elite Pathfinder unit he had on board, leading a platoon of infantry. The special forces leaders were distinct thanks to their camouflaged clothing and the longer, more expensive blaster rifle they favored. The infantry behind them wore the standard A280s and were easy to recognize thanks to their large surplus helmets, black jackets made of armored weave, and blue shirts.

Feeds from multiple cameras saw the infantry take cover at a junction of four corridors, aiming in the direction the boarders were approaching from. Another camera showed six towering figures clad from head to toe in armor. Briefly, Ventura thought that the camera was damaged. That lasted until the feed switched to another one, showing the same. The advancing boarders were like ghosts! The colors of their armor shifted to that of the background, and the only reason the cameras could see them as well as they did, was that the invaders were moving, fast.

The Captain's first thought was that they were dealing with the newest iteration of Imperial Dark Troopers. Rumor had it that a Republic agent had crippled, if not destroyed that project, so no one had to worry about any new production of those horrors.

Ventura saw the borders raise their weapons long before they reached the junction. He opened his mouth to issue a warning, however, he was too late.

A barrage of grenades shredded many of the defenders, by showering the area with something. Ventura wasn't sure what new horror the Imperials unleashed upon the galaxy, yet he could see the aftermath. The grenades detonated in puffs of smoke, and at least half the defenders fell on the ground, literally sliced to ribbons. Before someone could take command of the remaining infantry, a second, more conventional barrage of grenades came. It tore many of the survivors to pieces, as they tried to aid their wounded comrades.

Only then, the enemy did enter into rifle range. They proceeded to shoot up the remaining Republic soldiers with unreal speed and precision.

The bastards didn't even slow down their advance, and simply kept going!

The camera feed switched, showing another part of the quick reaction force laying down an ambush. They sealed the doors leading deeper into the ship and made a make-shift barricade perpendicular to the corridor the enemy was advancing through. The boarders would need to pause and deal with the armored door in front of them, while under fire.

Instead of the boarders trying to slice through the door's controls, or attempt to put breaching charges on it, they simply stopped. The main in the lead leveled his large weapon at the door. It resembled a cannon, more than anything man-portable, and it was connected with a backpack on the intruder's back with thick wires.

A thick lance of blinding energy impacted the armored door and began melting it. Meanwhile, one of the other boarders pulled a sphere from his belt and let it hover in front of them. It bobbed twice in the air, then sped up towards the corridor's junction. It floated there next to the beam, which finally cut off.

Three of the intruders stacked at the wall near the junction and waited for that damn laser cannon to melt its way through the armored door, which it soon did, letting liquid metal splash all over the deck.

At that point, the enemy threw smoke grenades, obscuring everything. Moments later, blaster fire lit up the smoke, making it glow with all kinds of colors.

"Captain, we lost contact with the quick-reaction forces."

If anything, without their vehicles, the rest of the infantry was even worse equipped than those two groups that just got overrun without really slowing down the enemy.

"We can't hold the ship this way. Comms, send message to General Hudsol. We've been boarded by an enemy utilizing advanced technology, heavy armor, and potent weaponry. We can't stop the enemy boarding parties. Send these recordings to the flagship and begin erasing all data drives. We're scuttling and abandoning the ship." Ventura ordered in a hollow voice.

"Sir, life sensors indicate we just lost two of the security teams near the bridge!"

"Get that message out now!" The Captain snapped. "Begin erasing vital data! XO, you're with me!"

Blaster fire echoed outside the bridge, followed by deafening silence.

Ventura and his human XO looked at each other and then to the two distant consoles needed to initiate scuttling procedures. Due to reasonable safety concerns, while possible, the process was anything but fast, or easy.

They weren't going to pull it off in time.

"Get me a direct line to the Chief Engineer." Ventura barked.

The armored doors glowed, and weakened metal fell to the floor. Jets of white-hot plasma shot through, bathing the bridge with unbearable

heat. A loud thump followed, and a third of the heavy door tore itself from the melted and weakened segments in a shower of blazing metal. Hissing smoke grenades followed through even before the large slab of metal could hit the deck with a deafening clang.

Ghosts charged through, ignoring the heavy blaster pistols of the bridge security. Blue streaks of energy raced all over the bridge, seeking Ventura's officers. The Captain vaulted over a nearby console, seeking dubious cover. His hand went for his side-arm, which was of course locked in the desk of his ready room.

Within moments, the return fire ceased, and Ventura heard bodies collapsing to the deck with light clangs. That had to be the security team's weapons and helmets meeting the deck.

Then an armored giant towered over the console Ventura hid behind. He looked at the Captain for endless seconds, yet instead of shooting him, he spoke.

"Are you willing to surrender your ship, Captain, or do we need to kill more of your crew while securing it?"

The intruder spoke Basic like a human, but with an odd accent, Ventura couldn't place.

"Do your worst, Imperial! I won't surrender my people to the likes of you!"

"It's their funeral then." The intruder responded as if he didn't care either way.

Ventura's world ended in a blue flash.

=FG=

Part 4

=FG=

Ramsees Hed

Cal-Seti

Cal-Seti System

Torranix sector

Dealing with protesting crowds, the odd pirate or smuggler crew, hardly prepared Jake for the hell he now found himself stuck into.

As far as he could see out of his helmet, there were groups of Rebels running towards the starport, and more importantly, his position.

Most of the enemies were very distinct with their blue shirts and black jackets. Here, and there, small groups of Rebels in camouflage ran from cover to cover, while taking pot-shots at the gates. More importantly, there were dozens of vehicles of all stripes he could see coming straight at him. At that point, Jake knew he was dead. There were just too many of the bastards… and there was nowhere to run.

"Lay down suppressive fire. Focus heavy weapons on the incoming vehicles. We'll deal with the light infantry at our leisure." A calm voice cracked over the command network.

Jake looked wildly around, while his fingers desperately clutched his blaster carbine. While the few Stormies he could see clung to whatever piece of cover they could find, the Feddies, gave no kriff that they were outnumbered at least three to one. They kept popping up from cover, shooting for a dangerously long period, then getting back down, and often displacing. The large six-legged walker took a position in the middle of the starport's main entrance and kept firing downrange, despite multi-colored energy bolts splashing all over its deflectors.

Missiles came streaking from multiple Rebel positions. The air crackled. Only thanks to all the smoke rolling around, Jake could see coherent beams of light lance from points above the walker. They stabbed the incoming weapons. Missiles detonated one after another, though not all. Two survived long enough to nearly touch the walker, when thunder and light exploded from its skin, smashing the warheads before they could strike true.

The weird sensation of repulsorlift passing right above went over Jake. The next thing he saw were gunships heavy with weapons coming in low above the starport. A v-shaped formation of them flew over the advancing rebels, raining death. Rocket pods struck walkers and those huge wheeled vehicles the Rebels deployed. Rapid-firing laser cannons shredded infantry, turning them into chunks of cooked meat and blackened bone.

Missiles and beams of light struck at the approaching enemy vehicles, burning through shields and light armor, and opening them like cans of food.

It was then and there, that Jake figured out, that he might survive the day. His eyes widened in shock, and his lips pulled back, into a rictus of a grin. The Stormtrooper raised his blaster with still trembling hands, and opened fire at the approaching Rebels.

=FG=

bridge
NRS MC80 Liberty class "Freedom's cry"
Cal-Seti system
Torranix sector

Hudsol watched Captain Ventura's message for a second time, while his fleet executed an emergency turn. The maneuver would soon have them in position to jump at point-blank range of the enemy. Piett just made a blunder, and Hudsol would take full advantage of this.

The attached camera recordings were more than a little concerning. That was especially true, now that most of the fleet's ground forces were down on Cal-Seti. They had to execute a frontal assault on the starport to neutralize it rapidly. It was going to be a bloodbath unless the enemy garrison down there broke.

The General felt a brief moment of doubt, but then dismissed it. At this point, he was committed. Win or lose, fighting an Imperial remnant with experimental technology, or horror from the other side of the galaxy, that it no longer mattered. He needed to spring any other tricks the enemy had and warn the New Republic of it. If he could win and retrieve technological samples, it would be that much better.

With reactors operating into the red, and engines burning at their limits, the New Republic task force slipped away from Cal-Seti's gravitational shackles and briefly entered lightspeed. They returned to real space moments later, catching the enemy just as it was disengaging from the Dawn of Victory.

The Imperial fleet was busily decelerating hard, leaving the crippled battleship drift in front of them. The sudden arrival of Hudsol's ships in their faces meant that the enemy couldn't just jump to lightspeed to escape. They first had to shift vectors away from the Republic ships, and by then, he would have hurt them.

"Take out their carriers. Ignore the escorts and standard Dreadnought cruiser." Hudsol repeated his standing orders, and his fleets opened the gate of the Nine Hells.

Two battleships, including the crippled Bulwark, moved to open their broadsides and focused their firepower on the carrier-refitted Dreadnought. The other battleship, Hudsol's flagship, and the escorts struck the closest Victory class with everything they had.

"No enemy small craft on sensors! They must be rearming after working over Dawn of Victory!"

At that announcement, Hudsol all but jumped and screamed with joy. Instead, he smiled, and his mustache twitched as he fought bubbling laughter. The Force was with them! That was the only explanation! It made sure they knew how dangerous these Imperials were, and now, it gave the Republic a break!

=FG=

Hangar
Assault Carrier Battle Born
Cal-Seti system
Torranix sector

Alarms blared, lights flickered, and the deck shook. Neither of those were encouraging when you were stuck into the hangar of a former Dreadnought cruiser, turned carrier. Those things were built tough, yet the BB was shaking like a womp-rat caught by a hound, that liked to play with its food.

The support crew stumbled left and right, the shaking deck doing them no favors. Garven Dreis looked warily from the dubious safety of his cockpit and went for his comm.

"CAG, Black One. Please advise us of the situation."

"The damn Republican bastard somehow made an impossibly fast turn, got out of Cal-Seti's gravity well! They jumped us before we could properly disengage, and go to lightspeed! They're busy pounding us to… Wait for one…" The comm crackled with static. "Emergency launch, I say again, emergency launch! Get all our birds out now!"

"Case Omega is in effect. All hands abandon ship. I say again, Case Omega is in effect! All hands abandon ship!" The Captain's modulated voice came over a crackling internal communication system.

The ship crew's outside looked at each other and hurried to disengage everything holding down the Mobile Armors and Strike Craft.

The lights flickered and died. Then emergency lights came online, bathing the hangar in cold, blue light. There was something wrong with the gravity generators too, because a moment later, the deck began slowly turning to the left as if the ship was sinking.

A large, ill-secured crate tore itself away from its mooring, skid over the deck, and crushed a pair of poor bastards to paste. Then it went on to slam into a Dragon. The impact dented the tough armor of the Mobile Armor and sent it skidding towards another one.

For a brief moment, Dreis stared in disbelief.

"All Black Elements, Black One! Launch now! I say again, launch immediately, no matter what!" Garven followed his order, and his fingers went for the Dragons' emergency switch. It would get the armor online quickly, at the cost of additional equipment tear, which right now was inconsequential.

The control panels in front of Dreis came fully alive, and his HUD lit up with the status of diagnostics checks. A second push of the button told the Dragon's computers that it was indeed an emergency, skipping all safety checks. The engines came online with a roar, and the repulsorlift system kicked in getting the MA off the deck.

Garven opened the throttle, and his Dragon shot out toward the opened hangar door, which was not close to thirty degrees off-angle. More Mobile Armors followed suit, and they got out of the hangar just as the damaged BB listed to the side – probably damage to the control links to the engines.

That unfortunately got the enemy into an ideal position to open fire at the hangar, which they did. And from nearly a point-blank range, Graven noticed with wide eyes. That huge Mon-Calamari cruiser was perfectly visible with the naked eye…

Then reality kicked Dreis between the eyes. He hit his afterburner and went evasive.

"All Black elements, evade!" The Squadron Leader shouted.

A few of his people had just enough time and warning to do it, not that it mattered, for a few of them got unlucky anyway. The rest of the squadron never got a chance to make it out of the BB's hangar.

On Garven's command display, the transponders of his squadron went dead one after another, while all he could do was dance between the rain of turbolaser shots.

"Black Squadron, Black Leader, sound off, now!" D

reis barked when he was halfway towards the enemy cruiser and reasonably sure he would make it the rest of the way. After a long pause, only two voices spoke back.

"Black Five, I'm still here, thank the Force!"

"Black Nine, my shields are drained, but I'm somehow still in one piece…" The bubbling voice of the Mon Calamari pilot trailed off when she figured out that no one else would be answering.

Out of the eleven people and Dragons under his command, only two of them were still alive. Dreis had to fight to keep his hand steady from the rage he felt. This was just like the last battle of Virujansi against the droids before Imperial reinforcements arrived to save the day. The only difference was that this time around, he was the squadron leader, who just found out he lost almost his whole squadron before they could even engage the damned enemy.

"Black elements, form on me. We're going for that thing's bridge and the bastards who started this bloodbath!" Garven said in a cold voice he didn't quite recognize. His blood felt like ice water in his veins, and his rage burned cold.

"Black Leader, Black Nine, that's the same general model like the one the Exiles are based on. The bridge at the stern, near the engine pods, was lightly sunken into the superstructure, but still vulnerable. We need to go above to strike at it."

"Thank you, Huntress. We're going in."

The distance between the now decelerating enemy cruiser and the accelerating armor few rapidly. They all kept constant evasive maneuvers, making sure that save for bad luck, the heavy cannons wouldn't be able to touch them.

"We've got incoming fighters. Four of them." Black Five announced.

"We're still going in," Dres announced. It wasn't like they had a better option anyway.

"Roger that. We'll cover you, sir. It's been an honor." Huntress spoke, just before the X-shaped enemy small craft jumped them.

Black Nine cut off her engines. She spun her Dragon around and opened fire. Her beam cannons missed, however, she also launched all her proton torpedoes and concussion missiles in a single barrage. One of the starfighters broke off its approach in a desperate bid to get away, while the other kept coming at Huntress firing all the way. Its laser cannons striped her still recharging shields and blasted chunks of the Dragon's armored hide. Just before a dozen missiles disintegrated the enemy fighter, it launched two proton torpedoes, that Black Nine's now damaged armor could not tank, or evade.

Another explosion followed, and now Dreis' HUD showed a single friendly transponder left of his squadron.

The Mon Calamari cruiser had more light AA emplacements than the other enemy ships they had encountered so far. Yet their accuracy was still a very far cry from what even a basic Guardian system could achieve. The two vengeful Mobile Armors tanked a few laser hits, their shields holding strong.

The remaining two X-Wings were much more of a concern. The two Mobile Armors did their best to evade the incoming fire, however, their maneuvering options were limited by the fast approach to the target and the fact that the Dragon was not built to dogfight with starfighters.

"Black Leader, Black Five, we had a good run, buddy. Go for it."

Seconds before they reached the enemy's bridge, Five reduced his acceleration a bit and moved right behind D

reis' Dragon even as laser bolts shredded the Squadron Leaders' shields.

Garven's mind went blank at that point, shifting all emotions, all the cold rage and sense of loss to the side. His face was so still, that it could have been carved of battleship armor.

Even as Black Five, Jason Brody, a good kid from Coruscant's gutters, died, Dreis' Dragon finally found the cruiser's bridge. The targeting computer locked it on, and he pressed the trigger unleashing all his arsenal at the target. As he bypassed the lowered bridge tower, barely avoiding slamming into the cruiser's hull, it occurred to the pilot that he was still alive.

Garven's trance broke, and he looked wildly around in shock, searching for the pursuing fighters. Instead of the enemy starfighters, his sensors clearly showed three friendly transponders falling in a defensive formation behind his Dragon.

As the small group outpaced the decelerating enemy cruiser, their sensors began leaving the zone of worst ECM. Soon they could detect more friendly ships and small craft that broke through.

They flew past a light cruiser that by all means should have been a useless wreck. Its whole starboard side was a smashed ruin, and only a single-engine pod kept pushing it forward. A pair of CR90s flanked it protectively. In the distance, Garven could barely make the form of a crippled Victory. A check with his visual sensors zoomed in on the damaged Star Destroyer. Veils of hissing air and frozen water trailed the battered ship, before damage control parties finally managed to cut them off one by one.

"This is Captain Piett addressing all Imperial assets within the system. The ranking surviving enemy commander proposed a cease-fire I just accepted. Do not fire on new Republic Assets unless threatened. SAR squadrons will launch ASAP. All ships needing assistance with DC and wounded, inform the flag immediately…"

All Dreis felt at that announcement was a cold, empty void.

=FG=

If you want to support my writing or discuss this story, see the following links:

Pat re on: Delkatar's writing corner

the space battles forums - this is where most discussion over my stories takes place

the sufficient velocity forums

the alternative history forums