Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars nor am I associated with those that do. This is a non-profit fan work written for the purpose of entertainment.

The Imperial: Arrowhead Command

Chapter 9 - Galantos IV

Captain Rivejer Tullius

As an officer of the Imperial Navy and Captain of a warship, I had been trained in the actions that need to be taken in the event of boarding. It was deemed a humorous impossibility in the old Dreadnaught Heavy Cruisers, and the mark of madness to try so against a Star Destroyer, but Naval High Command were nothing if not fans of redundancy. The core concepts of defending a starship were not alien to me, nor that much of those ships' interiors were designed in such a way as to remove the cover for an external force. However, in the long discussions on defending our ship, officers were given a relatively simple role: do not engage and do what your security officers say. I, much like most of the bridge crew on a Star Destroyer, was given the bare minimum combat training to qualify and rarely went beyond that. It was one part a cost-saving method and another for practicality. Any force that invaded a Star Destroyer and was successful enough to reach wherever the majority of command staff were located would be far better trained and organized than any resistance that could be offered by officers. In a rare moment of life preservation, most Imperial handbooks recommended surrender and passive resistance rather than direct intervention against an armed force. The investment the Empire made in its ranking officers was worth more than the output expending their lives could achieve - at least, in theory.

The point of this lecture was to point out how I was breaking every rule and regulation at the moment. The circumstances on Black-15, and quite possibly the rest of the system, meant I should be following the directions of the better-trained and drilled Stormtroopers. Indeed, the junior officer would have more knowledge of where and what I should be doing. Yet, even with the understanding that I was the last person who should be leading escape efforts, I was rushing headlong into danger. Any excuse I could offer about why we would not be taking the direct route to the Conqueror only reinforced the reason why I should be listening to them, rather than the inverse.

Yet, that was not the case. Rather than finding somewhere safe to hunker down until I could escape to my flagship, I was leading this motley assortment to what was our inevitable death.

Then again, I thought bitterly, If I am doomed to die now to a blaster or later to a Star Dreadnought, why suffer the wait?

It flew in the face of my earlier anger at nearly dying outside my bridge, but this course of action was only slightly less risky than rushing for the Conqueror.

We hurried down the hallways of Black-15, following its featureless walls behind the overeager Lieutenant. Despite the danger, or perhaps because of it, he appeared in remarkably high spirits. Between our running, he was excitedly discussing how we would retake the station and drive the Yevethans off - presumably into the cold vacuum of space. For my part, I offered little beyond grunts and "I see" to the younger man - the longer we ran the more my arm throbbed painfully.

Our vanguard, one of my Stormtroopers, suddenly came to a stop, throwing a fist up in a signal to stop. I nearly crashed into the Lieutenant, and Nereus into me, before we threw ourselves against the wall. We were joined by the rest of our company, carbines and rifles held at-ready. The Stormtrooper waited a heartbeat before slashing his hand to the right, a signal for two Stormtroopers to break from the wall and move to the opposite side, trying to find what little cover they could.

The cause soon made itself known with rapid, heavy footfalls. I swallowed, pressing even closer to the wall as I held my pistol up in my functioning hand. Nereus sounded as if he were about to pass out, trying to keep his gasping as quiet as possible while the Lieutenant nervously shifted this way and that.

Finally, at the end of the hall, a figure darted out from an intersecting doorway. It was followed by a half-dozen more, but before I could fully register who or what they were, the Stormtroopers opened fire.

The leading figure didn't have time to react as a blaster bolt hit them in the chest, collapsing in short order. They were followed by the second and third, all falling in a heap in the middle of the hallway. The last in the line slipped, falling backward onto the hard durasteel floor as the remaining three turned and raised their own blasters. The following exchange was short and brutal, the Yevethans - which they had to be - could do little but blindly fire as they tried to identify targets. The seventh had scrambled back the way they came, shouting something in its alien tongue - or just shouting, I couldn't tell. The lead Stormtrooper rose from his crouch and slunk along the wall toward the door, keeping pressed to the wall to cover his approach. At his signal, the two on the opposite wall slid forward as well, carbines raised and aimed with there last survivor, and any other reinforcements, would be hiding. Just as they would have crossed the sight of anyone holding the corner, the leader trooper suddenly swept around and fired. He only needed to fire once, before the rear Stormtrooper spoke up - his voice grizzled and no-nonsense.

"Clear, Captain."

I moved forward alongside the other two officers, and we continued.

CT-8812 "Talik"

The Yevethans, or Yevs as I had taken to think of them as, were growing thicker. More ambushes, or attempts therein, and heavier weapons meant we were getting close. What we would find at this security outpost was anyone's guess, Lieutenant Graab seemed to think we would source reinforcements there to retake the station. Tullius was a bit more practical, even if this plan was suicidal. Get reinforcements, bag and tag the Admiral, and then bug out before the Yevs could bring their revolution down on our heads.

It was insane, but luckily for Tullius, I was used to insane.

We followed the Lieutenants directions, cutting through the featureless hallways, engaging the odd stragglers. I might have been able to lead this precession myself, and cut down on the time spent deliberating, but whoever had built this station gutted it. It didn't follow standard practice of the layout of Imperial stations, seeming to place posts and stations wherever the designer thought. Hallways that should have led to an armory fed into a food court, an elevator that went up to a gun station went down to waste disposal.

It was insane, and unfortunately, not the good kind.

Still, we were making progress for whatever it was worth, and eventually, the bark of blaster fire that was not ours reached my ears. The higher-pitched whine of carbines was briefly silenced by the roar of a repeater, a T-21 unless my ears were deceiving me. Even that was drowned out by the roar of an E-Web blaster cannon, someone was giving their attackers hell.

We slowed before another corner, a smart decision when I peered around the durasteel. The Yevs had set up a rear guard, and these were not the rabble we had been fighting through. Plastoid armor, blaster carbines, and they carried them like they knew how to fight. Mobile cover had been thrown up, durasteel barriers with Imperial roundels still emblazoned on their front. The blasters were also stolen, E-10s - the stripped down, less compact predecessor to the E-11 in my hands. The armor was custom, though - made to order to fit on the thin, lanky Yevethans. This entire operation was planned well in advance, if we hadn't already suspected as much.

I retreat back to the group, eyes roving over our company. Four Stormtroopers, three officers with one injured - up against a dozen armed and armored defenders - bad odds.

"Eleven, maybe more," I say unnecessarily, my comrades could all access my helmet feed. It was for the benefit of the officers. The Lieutenant blanched fearful, his earlier bravado forgotten. The Governor shifted, fingers tightening around the unfamiliar mass of his stolen blaster, but his expression remained severe and uncompromising. A man with some spine hidden beneath the drinking, slimy demeanor. Tullius, meanwhile, appeared almost bored by the idea. He massaged his injured arm where it hung in its makeshift sling, his eyes locked on mine even through my helmet.

"Get us through, trooper," He ordered as if these numbers were merely a speedbump to his objective. It was the certainty of victory that I was familiar with in few men, those who never considered failure to be anything else but an excuse. We would get him to the security checkpoint, that was decided the moment Tullius laid out his plan - it was at my discretion as to how.

That was my understanding of Tullius's words, in any case. He rarely let anything escape that max of cool indifference he put up at all times. I merely nodded my head and reached around my back, pulling the thermal detonator from my utility belt.

"Yes, sir."

I laid out my plan of attack. Tullius would remain behind, he was a poor shot from what I had seen and injured besides. The Lieutenant was left to 'guard' him, being only slightly more reliable than the clipped Captain. Only Nereus would play his part in the attack, properly sobered up now and prepared to fight.

Knelt at the corner, I quickly tapped in my access code before twisting its timer. Six ticks, six seconds. At the press of one final button, the detonator whined to life. No words were exchanged between the makeshift strike team, I leaned around the corner and threw the detonator underhand toward the defenses.

One.

Two.

TK-8770 and CT-1142 pushed around the corner, going wide to the other end of the hallway. Credit to the Yevs, they reacted quickly - crying out in their native tongue and bringing their blasters up. Half went for cover while the others began firing.

Three.

I pushed the corner next, keeping low so as to allow CT-0900 and Nereus clearance to fire over me. My first bolt found one of the Yevs out of cover, its form crumpling. A second fell to a blaster from the other side of the hallway.

Four.

Five.

One of the Yevs that made it to cover peaked out and fired at me, its shot went wide - but I could hear it sizzle in the air as it passed my helmet. We were out of cover, in the open and now facing an entrenched and aware enemy. Any longer than that sixth second, and we might have started taking casualties.

Six.

Thermal detonators were loud, flashy, and damned dangerous. However, unlike older fragmentation or plasma grenades, the "explosion" only went a certain distance around the grenade, effectively vaporizing everything within that range. Anything beyond would be fine, relatively speaking. So, when the grenade exploded, the leftmost barrier simply vanished. It was joined by the two Yevs behind it, a third still standing out in the open, and the corpse of a forth, alongside the floor and wall. It was a small mercy that we were deeper in the station, though the sudden explosion sent a panic alarm to scream through the station - its central computers recognizing that someone had detonated something.

The remaining Yevethans were thrown off balance, largely unaffected by the detonator outside the initial explosion of the grenade. Their momentary lapse in attention was to our benefit. I surged forward, the familiar thud of footfalls at my back telling me someone was following me in. I had my blaster raised as I ran, the heads-up display doing the rest of the work. A separated Yev lurched backwards as I hit him in two shots, his neighbor taking a bolt for his trouble as well.

We broke the Yevethan's cover, finding the remainder huddled there and trying to get their bearings. Still, they reacted amiably and turned their blasters on me. I skid to a stop not a second too early, as bolts screamed through the space in front of me. My helmet screamed warnings, but it was a calm professionalism that I raised my blaster and fired into the crowded group. My neighbor, the familiar white of plastoid telling me they were a trooper, joined me. The nearest two Yevethans were hit several times in the spray, toppling backwards into their neighbors. Another took an accidental bolt to his head, leaving only one to be caught under the press of bodies. I did not give it the chance to get out or raise its blaster, I ran up and fired twice, both headshots.

I didn't take a moment to realize our victory, racing back to my wall and slamming up against it. CT-0900 and I crept forward to the next corner. I had only just sat back on my haunches when a Yev came barreling around the corner, blaster held loosely in one hand as it peered toward the carnage. It wasn't given time to react as I fired my blaster up into its face. The alien's body jumped before it collapsed in a heap, its death earning me alarmed cries from around the corner. I lean back as a flurry of gleaming crimson bolts hurtled past my cover, some brightly flashing as they met durasteel.

"Move cover up!" I barked into our private comms, signaling with a hand for the other two Stormtroopers to get moving. Soon, the two troopers hobbled into sight, carrying the surviving barricade to our position. They turned it to face the hostile force before pushing it across the floor - the shriek of metal on metal briefly drowning out the bark of blaster fire. TK-8770 had to scramble behind the barricade when a bolt slammed an inch from his head, partially blackening his helmet with the resulting flash. The two, now hidden behind the barricade, pushed against its rear section with their backs - slowly moving the shield until it was flush with my corner. CT-0900 raced around me and to the far side of the shield, peering out and taking a potshot down the hallway before returning to his cover. I slid forward a pace, placing the barrel of my carbine in the gap between the corner and barrier, getting my first view of the siegeworks.

Nearly triple the number of Yevethans that held a line of durasteel barriers, the center of their formation taken up by a heavy E-Web turret. Several had turned to face us, returning fire as they tried to press to the walls or drop to the floor. I turned my blaster and shot the operator of the heavy cannon in the back, watching as it crumpled and dragged the barrel up. Its roar died as the Yevethan fell, the silence filled with the comparatively tamer bark of repeaters.

I was given my first view of the security checkpoint beyond the Yevethan barricades. The hallways opened up into a larger atrium, tables surrounding a two-storied structure at its center. A catwalk surrounding the second floor was covered in carbon scoring, with its defenders' black and white helmets peering over and taking potshots.

The resulting engagement was short-lived and one-sided. The Yevethans, for all their preparation and firepower, were caught out of cover. Those who held their positions were gunned down by my men, and those who charged were shot in the back by the enterprising repeater at the security checkpoint. As the defenders retreated to the other side of their makeshift fortress, to engage Yevs pushing from that corridor, we were allowed in at the ground level.

"Move it!" A Navy Commando barked as we filled, holding the door against any enterprising Yevs.

What greeted us was a warzone or the aftermath of one. Dozens of men and women littered the floors, areas where desks once sat now cleared to allow the injured or dead space to lay. Navytroopers, those either too badly hurt or otherwise unable to hold the line, stood guard at sealed blast doors and shuttered windows. Nervous and tired eyes turned to us as we arrived, defeat permeating in the air. The few hours this rebellion had been occurring had driven these men and women to the brink.

And then Captain Tullius entered.

"Who's in charge here?" He demanded, his voice brooking no argument despite looking like he belonged among the injured more than he did standing alongside the defenders. Tullius's words roused some attention from the crowd, though most returned to their tasks once they realized we weren't Yevethans. One trooper, half his face buried in bandages, pointed upstairs, speaking with an agonized voice.

"Captain Nelos, Upstairs."

"Lieutenant, with me," Tullius said, before marching over to the stairs, Grabb chasing close behind him. After a moment of consideration, I let out a sigh - best to go with Tullius, me and my men would probably be instrumental in whatever his plan was. I pointed the other three to an empty space of wall where the resting or dying were not, before passing a wheezing Nereus on my way to the stairs.

The top was markedly emptier of humans, though weapons were arrayed haphazardly on tables or against walls. As I reached the top of the stairs, the door to the catwalk outside opened and allowed a navytrooper inside. The man lugged in a repeating blaster, its barrel smoking and still red from the heat. He dropped it haphazardly on a table and grabbed its neighbor before rushing back outside, silencing the cacophony of battle with the hiss of the door.

Tullius was easily enough to be located in the sparse crowd, his straight and tireless posture on an island in the sea of exhaustion and battle-weary officers. He faced off against another naval officer adorned in that grey uniform, seated and hunched in a chair looking far less put-together than Tullius. Tullius had evidently gotten straight to business, as I walked into hearing range to the other Captain responding.

"- Can not give you the droids! Even if I had access to them, those droids may well be all that stands between us and annihilation!" The man slammed a meaty fist on his adjacent table, and the datapads he was pouring over jumped at the motion. Tullius was unperturbed.

"You have neither the men nor firepower to hold off the numbers available to your enemy, Captain. Once the Yevethans mobilize the brunt of their manpower, they will overrun you with ease. We need to strike decisively, while they are unbalanced."

"Unbalanced? Perhaps you have failed to notice, Captain, but the only ones unbalanced here are us. The Yevethans overran everything on this side of the shuttle bays. My orders are clear, hold this position until we are reinforced by the other stations."

"There won't be any reinforcements. This was not an isolated rebellion, the Yevethans seized a considerable percentage of the fleet - even if the local garrison is successful, we will not be alive to appreciate it."

I glanced at Graab where he stood off to one side, eyes bouncing from officer to officer with a concerned expression.

"The Intimidator will clear the scales, and that is not counting assistance from the other-"

"Admiral Paret, alongside…" Tullius paused, then snapped the fingers on his good hand and pointed at Graab. To his credit, the Lieutenant quickly stepped in.

"Admiral Flynn and Commodore Ilian-"

"Yes, them; they are all aboard this station right now."

The other Captain froze at that, his exhaustion vanishing in a flash as his expression became one of deep concentration. He couldn't have been silent for more than five seconds before he spoke, his voice harsh and short.

"The Yevethans would know this, that is the only reason we haven't been-"

"Overrun, yes. The majority of their forces are likely assaulting Paret's position."

"I knew their numbers seemed too small, damned slaves." The other Captain cursed before turning his gaze back to Tullius, "Paret is our priority, what do you need?"

"Whatever you can spare, and more besides."

And like that, the two men were on the same wavelength. A cold professionalism I only ever really saw in Stormtrooper officers, one born in this instant out of desperation.

"My men are depleted as is," The other officer gestured to a chair, inviting Tullius to sit, "Even if I were to put every injured officer on the line, we are still running on borrowed time."

"I would need only a handful of your Navy Commandos, a security officer can hold the line well enough. So long as we have those droids."

"How can you be so sure? The Yevethans have numbers."

Tullius paused and then turned to me, his eyes staring expectantly up into my helmet. Realizing now that my presence was fortuitous, and expected, I stepped forward.

"The Yevs are driven, but they're not well drilled. Poor reaction times, I wager these NavSec troopers have more discipline than they do, and their armor is negligible."

Shocktroopers were ideal for fighting that sort of enemy, and loath though I was to admit it, Navy Commandos were technically shocktroopers. Disorganized militias and fanatical rebels did not often have the training to withstand such aggression.

Typically. I thought, slightly bitterly, to Hoth. The Rebels, capital Resh, had the arms, fanaticism, and discipline on par with the regular Armytrooper Corps, if not surpassing them. From what I had seen so far, the Yevs did not compare. They might have some elite units hidden away somewhere, but they weren't sending their best to take this outpost.

"We don't have the droids," The other officer admitted at last, shaking his head, "Follow."

We took the stairs back down to the main lobby and then a service elevator to the floor below that. An armory, or what was left of it seeing as the majority of the equipment was upstairs, filled the room and ran along the circular walls. A wall bisected the room in half, dull durasteel framing a thick blast door.

The room was not devoid of life, four men in Naval Engineer jumpsuits and a fifth in the familiar black of an Imperial gunner crowded the far wall. Two were at the door itself, faces covered by shields as they worked at the door with torches, overseen by the gunner. At our approach, the black-uniformed officer turned and saluted. He quickly explained the situation.

"We've been at it since they arrived," He yelled, jerking a finger back at the engineers, "But it's slow going. These blast doors weren't meant to be opened without a passcode, and all we've got are plasma torches!"

A glance at the door could tell us that. My helmet automatically dimmed the bright flashes of plasma cutting away at durasteel. The standing man was moving down the left side of the door while the kneeling moved up the right, hardly safe but something told me safety was the furthest thing from their minds.

"I'll assume you do not have access?" Tullius asked the other Captain, who shook his head.

"Major Dene, who unfortunately did not report to his station when the alarm went up, would have access. The armory Sergeant is lying out there somewhere, dead."

"Where can we get fusion cutters?" Tullius asked, expression grim.

"Engineering, but no way to get over there. Yevethans."

"How long?" The other Captain asked.

"Two hours, maybe three? I've got my men on shifts, but we've only got the two torches."

"Does Admiral Paret have two to three hours?" Graab asked nervously, his tone uncertain. He was asked to repeat his question before the other Captain (O-Cap, I decided, until I learned his name) responded.

"He is not in some pleasure hall," O-Cap said with a dismissive wave of his hand, leading us back up to the main level and away from the sound, "The largest concentration of security forces will be around the administrative sector. Even disorganized, it will take the Yevethans time to fight through that mass and reach him."

"Let's hope, for all of our sakes, that is the case, Captain Heruuk. We should begin planning our assault immediately."

The now-identified Heruuk lost his momentary derision to give Tullius a solemn nod. A holotable in the main room was our destination, a floating hologram for whatever local service provider hovering over the table. 'Network Down: We Apologize for the Inconvenience!' flickered in place of the logo periodically, before the whole thing vanished under Heruuk's manipulations. A scale model of the station flickered to life, the outpost flashing green.

"These are the administrative offices," Heruuk explained, pointing out a patch of rooms to one side of the station - the map labelled it starboard. A single long hallway led up to the level, one way in or out of the station heart. A reminder of the station's formerly military designation, and one that could be well defended by security forces - or a slaughter if already taken by the enemy. Already, I running simulations through my head on how I would want to take that office, current resources in mind - it was a grim situation.

My recommendation would have been to push a bomb into that hallway and let the void handle the rest. I suspected that was not what the Captains wanted, at least not if there was still a chance to save Paret. Denying control of that star dreadnought to the Yevs was the end goal, but it was clear Tullius would prefer having it under ours.

"Unfortunately, this planning is not my domain," Tullius almost sounded genuinely annoyed at the idea, taking a seat and fiddling with his sling, "Trooper?"

It took me a second to realize who he was speaking to, only a moment before his dull gaze turned in my direction. He was joined by Heruuk, Graab, and what other officers had wandered over. I swallowed thickly before stepping forward, leaning over the hologram as plans threw themselves together in my mind.

"I will lead a strike team to the administrative offices, alongside the droids," I said after a moment, quickly detailing the beginnings of this operation.

"We will hit them fast and hard, right down the center. If there are still friendly Imperial forces in the offices, we'll link up with them and retreat to the docking bay."

It wasn't so much a plan as it was a statement of intent, but there wasn't much I could do here without more information on Yev forces. Despite this, Tullius was nodding slowly, running his good hand along his chin.

"Not back here?" Heruuk asked, alarmed - the source of his concern was showcased by the muffled bark of blaster rifles outside.

"No, while we are moving on the offices, you will be extracting to the Conqueror, or whatever other friendly ships are still there."

"Good," Tullius agreed, standing up and turning to Nereus, "Nereus, you go with the second team, my security teams will recognize you at least. You too, Lieutenant. While I'm sure-"

"You're going to the Conqueror, sir," Tullius turned and looked at me as I spoke, the look of bemused surprise on his face almost funny. I quickly continued before the man could get another word in, "Just my men and the Navy Commandos, shock troopers. Regular infantry wouldn't keep up… Also, you're injured."

Tullius then turned his gaze to his busted shoulder, as if only now remembering that he was injured. His expression remained unchanging, but I had to wonder if there wasn't some disappointment in his eyes.

Tullius seemed the sort to throw himself headfirst into danger.

Captain Rivejer Tullius

"Contact!" A voice cried, and the air was nearly knocked out of my lungs as a Navytrooper slammed into me. My injured arm, properly dressed now, screamed in protest as I hit the wall. I tried to raise my arm and catch myself, but that was an even worse decision. I fought to keep my screams under control, all while running through every curse and insult I knew in my mind.

The 'contact', as it were, turned out to be a warband of Yevethans wandering the halls, parading the remains of mutilated Imperials like trophies. Officers of some note, based on their uniforms, though they had all been concerningly stripped of their code cylinders. Limbs were another unfortunate casualty it seemed, as the Yevethans gathered the means to seize control of the fleet.

One had to wonder how long the Yevethans had been planning this little operation, and how much of it was going to plan. There appeared to be some overarching intelligence behind it all, but the Yevethan rebels themselves were almost operating at random. Assaults on low-importance positions groups wandering halls by themselves or in small groups. Unfortunately, asking the Yevethans themselves was out of the question. What few survived the hail of blaster bolts from a small army of injured and paranoid Navytroopers were not very forthcoming. Most could speak Basic, and were very creative in their insults and in describing what horrors they would commit on us and their families. Pleasant chaps, all around.

The niggling part of my mind that recoiled at this all, that sought to place blame at the feet of the tormenters rathered than the tormented, was ignored.

"Captain Tullius!"

A voice called me to the front of the parade, pulling me from my thoughts. I grumbled something under my breath before straightening my uniform and pushing ahead. Troopers moved aside, confusion bleeding into distress the closer I got.

Heruuk stood alongside the Naval Engineers, staring out the window of an airlock barring ur path. A shiver of concern raced its way up my back, but I stepped forward all the same.

"Captain Heruuk, what's-"

He stepped aside, face pale as snow, as he gestured hopelessly through the transparisteel window. The cause for his concern was revealed and gave me a moment of pause.

Beyond this door was where the docking bay was supposed to be, that much I could remember. The umbilical bridge connecting the station to my ship should have been a few dozen paces forward from here.

What greeted me was the destroyed exterior wall of the room beyond, and the shredded remains of the docking umbilical to the Conqueror. A bomb of some kind would have been my guess, detonated where the ship and station met. I could see from here that the umbilical was drifting away from the Conqueror, cut free now that it was entirely useless.

The bodies of what men weren't sucked out into the empty void floated where they got stuck, the terror of their last moments frozen on their faces. Some of the Navytroopers out there wore appropriated Army equipment, Maab's men. My men.

All at once, pity was the further thing from my mind.

Capital Ships:

Conqueror – Imperial I-Class Star Destroyer – Captain Rivejer Tullius, Lieutenant Ashsca Screold, Commander Rius Harand, Chief Wyatdrew Matread, Commander Ciena Ree, & Colonel Barton Maab

Intimidation – Imperial I-Class Star Destroyer – Commander Milgern

Escapade (Shriwirr) - Shree-Class Battlecruiser - Lieutenant Commander Thawne

Cruisers:

Intrepid – Victory I-Class Star Destroyer – Lieutenant ? (Dead)

Steadfast – Victory I-Class Star Destroyer - Captain Zanus

Viscount – Strike-Class Medium Cruiser - ?

Contester – Strike-Class Medium Cruiser - ?

Absolution – Strike-Class Medium Cruiser - Lieutenant Pax

Valor – Strike-Class Medium Cruiser - Commander Titus Cain

Frigates:

Spite – Carrack-Class Light Cruiser - ?

Loner – Carrack-Class Light Cruiser - Lieutenant Lo Bannick

Dugnad – Carrack-Class Light Cruiser - Lieutenant Axel Aalberg

? – Carrack-Class Light Cruiser - ?

Corvettes:

Overlord – Lancer-Class Frigate - Captain Forster

Justice – Lancer-Class Frigate - Commander Titus

? – Lancer-Class Frigate - ?

? – Lancer-Class Frigate - ?

? - DP20 Frigate - ?

? - Marauder-Class Corvette - ?

Bakura II - IR-3F-Class Light Frigate - ?

Bakura V - IR-3F-Class Light Frigate - ?