The commander of the New Republic Star Destroyer Liberty, leading the escort of a transport convoy, Captain Sair Yonka, thought for a moment that fate had rewarded him for his patience with the eternally dissatisfied, overly prim Bothans, into whose space he and his strike group had been dispatched to reinforce the sector fleet. The Star Destroyer was supposed to head to Sluis Van for scheduled repairs and system upgrades, after which it would join the forces escorting the transport ships.
For two weeks he had stoically patrolled systems in Bothan Space, like some disgraced lieutenant on an old scow with a pair of turbolasers. Yonka didn't consider himself a confrontational person. On the contrary, he was quite good-natured and open to constructive dialogue. After all, it was "constructive dialogue" (and a not insignificant sum of credits) shortly before the Battle of Thyferra that first convinced Sair to abandon Ysanne Isard's fleet, and then, in the heat of the battle, to decide to help Wedge Antilles in the firefight with the Super Star Destroyer Lusankya, which at that time was the last ship loyal to Iceheart.
After the victory over Isard, he had no doubts left about continuing his service to the New Republic. The ship, heavily damaged during the Battle of Thyferra, was repaired at the Sluis Van shipyards, using some of the equipment and military stores stripped from the Virulence—another Star Destroyer, now bearing the name Errant Venture and belonging to the smuggler and part-time information broker Booster Terrik.
The very same Booster Terrik who, a few days ago, had informed the fleet command on Bothawui about the location and time of the appearance of the pirate squadron Invids. Ruthless pirates, whose fleet's core included an Imperial II-class Star Destroyer, spreading terror among the worlds of the Mid Rim.
Even Admiral Ackbar, the head of the New Republic Defense Fleet, couldn't resist the opportunity to destroy this ship and eliminate the enemy threat once and for all. Sair didn't know how many nerve cells the Mon Calamari had lost negotiating with the Bothans to send two capital ships to destroy the Invids. But he understood why the choice had fallen on him first.
Although his crew were now citizens of the New Republic, they had been trained to Imperial standards. They were considered among the best. So, despite Leonia Tavira, who led the pirate group, having her own Star Destroyer, the same Imperial II-class as Yonka's Liberty, in a direct confrontation Sair's crew would unequivocally emerge victorious. And the accompanying Mon Calamari MC80 Star Cruiser, the Liberty, while inferior to the Imperial-class in weapon count, was excellently shielded and could take a beating. Its participation in the operation would allow them to deal with the Invids much faster. Whatever forces they possessed—two first-rate capital ships and nine squadrons of small craft on board: six on the Star Destroyer and half as many on the Mon Calamari cruiser—would decisively end the battle.
However, according to General Cracken, Booster Terrik would also be in the Rugosa system. And not alone—with numerous allies from among the Outer Rim smugglers. As surprising as it might seem, according to Cracken, the goals of the criminal elements—whose elimination Sair had once excelled at while serving the Empire—and the New Republic coincided. The Invids or the Imperials were involved in the abduction of his daughter, who had also made a name for herself during the conflict between the New Republic and Ysanne Isard.
Captain Yonka was an excellent judge of the odds of any given engagement. After reviewing Cracken's brief report on the kidnapping of Mrs. Terrik-Horn, the transmitted coordinates of her ship's location, and the hijacker Niles Ferrier—rumored to be working for the Empire—the captain had no doubt that Booster Terrik was being lured into a trap. Given the rumors that the Empire was seeking to acquire as many ships as possible through purchase or capture, it was no wonder they were trying to get their hands on the Errant Venture. Which meant that if Ferrier really was working for the Empire, the standard ship-capture tactic called for at least equal forces for such a confrontation. Interdictor cruisers like the Interdictor-class Star Destroyers or Immobilizer 418-class interdictor cruisers were few in the Empire's inventory. Considering that the Imperial Remnants were in a state of local truce with the New Empire after the destruction of Warlord Zsinj's state and Ysanne Isard, it was extremely unlikely that the rendezvous point would hold more than one or two Star Destroyers and one ship equipped with gravity anomaly generators—one was enough to prevent a Star Destroyer from fleeing.
General Cracken, still conducting his investigation in the Sluissi sector, had devised an excellent plan literally on the fly. And it had been adjusted based on Terrik's latest data that the Invid were indeed not involved in his daughter's kidnapping. But they would definitely arrive in the Rugosa system to settle scores with whoever had tried to pit them against Booster Terrik.
After it became known from Princess Leia Organa Solo that a separate Imperial faction was acting against the New Republic, the picture began to come together. There was a squadron that included at least four Star Destroyers and about ten ships ranging from frigates to medium Strike-class cruisers. Given that the other Imperial Remnants were taking no action against Coruscant, showing no hostility, and not supporting the separate faction, their forces were the maximum that Yonka's ships could face. And even though four Star Destroyers on the Empire's side might seem enough to destroy Sair's group, it wasn't that simple.
It wasn't for nothing that General Cracken and Admiral Ackbar had developed the operation in such a short time. Intelligence and the highest fleet command working in unison—truly a fearsome thing. And effective.
So, the first part of the operation was that Terrik and his allies would go after the Skat-Pulsar, and most likely his daughter was there as well, no matter what Niles Ferrier claimed to the contrary. It was too crude a trap, but where would the Empire find tactical geniuses these days? Even the victory in the Dufilvian sector was nothing more than luck. If the Imperials could so easily strike and destroy sector-level New Republic forces, they would have continued those attacks. But most likely, they simply got lucky attacking a weakened New Republic squadron, and now they were trying to replenish their fleet. That's why they were luring the Errant Venture.
Even with the enemy possessing four Star Destroyers and up to fifteen medium-class ships, the fleet that Booster Terrik had brought with him, along with the Invid he had drawn to Rugosa, would be enough to inflict significant, if not fatal, damage on the separate Imperial faction. Despite both Booster and Leonia Tavira having heavy ships, they would inevitably suffer heavy losses in a fight with the Imperials—for that risk, Booster Terrik had negotiated a substantial sum from the New Republic. Leonia Tavira's ships should be the first to take damage—and they, in turn, would seriously damage the Empire's ships. If she was indeed involved—Sair had some doubts on that score, but he kept them to himself.
After Terrik and Tavira got drawn into the battle and inflicted damage on the enemy ships, whoever they belonged to, ten minutes into the fight, the second phase would begin.
Unaware of the operation's hidden layer, the Invid—whether they destroyed the enemy or simply took losses—would be attacked from the rear by Yonka's arriving group. And with the support of Booster Terrik and his smugglers, the pirates would finally be either destroyed or captured.
The plan wasn't the most perfect; one could even say it was risky. However, comprehensive analysis showed it was viable and the risk was actually minimal. Too bad there wasn't time to re-arm Terrik's ship with standard weapons, but Sair understood perfectly well that Cracken would sooner resign than agree to that. Because Booster would definitely never return what he received. And they didn't have time for such repair work anyway.
Cracken didn't say it directly, but he hinted that, despite all its desire, the New Republic couldn't commit significant forces to the operation. Leonia Tavira possessed an almost superhuman sensitivity to danger threatening her flagship. Practically no New Republic operation aimed at destroying her ship and her pirates had ever met with proper success. And against the backdrop of the fleet's destruction in the Dufilvian sector at the hands of the Empire, and the looting of numerous supply convoys throughout the Mid and Outer Rims, the New Republic needed a victory. It probably wouldn't be a resounding one, but it would allow them to calm the senators, who were increasingly loudly declaring that the fleet was doing nothing to eliminate dangers, just burning through its allocated budget on endless escorts and repairs.
In any case, if too noticeable forces were allocated for hunting the Invid, Tavira might find out and the plan would fail. So there were only two of them—a Star Destroyer and a Mon Calamari cruiser. But that would be enough.
To cover the operation, they were supposedly assigned to deliver military cargoes of ship weapons and ammunition from fleet depots based on Bothawui to Sluis Van. The Mon Calamari Star Cruiser was officially considered a disarmed transport (its weapons had only been restored a few hours earlier during a brief stop at small shipyards on the planet Arbra) and was escorted by the destroyer under Yonka's command. Such a convoy wouldn't arouse much suspicion from the Invid, because, first, given the size of their fleet, it would clearly lose in a direct engagement, and second, their route passed away from the planned ambush site.
Still, he didn't really like the operation. Even with the condition that a squadron of six Mon Calamari Star Cruisers and three dozen smaller starships was stationed at Naboo, ready to arrive at the battle site within some forty minutes from the start of Terrik and Tavira's fight with the unknown enemy. Sair literally only needed to send a distress signal, and six MC80s, benefiting from their first-class hyperdrives, would come to the rescue.
And yet, as much as Captain Yonka wanted to put an end to the pirate raids, he frankly didn't like the lack of information. Nor the haste of the operation's planning. Too many questions.
Sair considered several possible outcomes.
First: everything was exactly as Cracken and Booster presented it. The Imperials, for whom Ferrier was supposedly working, were indeed luring Booster into an ambush. In that case, it would be a big surprise for them that, first, Terrik would bring a whole fleet with him. And second, a powerful Invid squadron would be right on his tail. Then it really could succeed in destroying or damaging the Imperials, as well as destroying the Invid themselves. With the arrival of Yonka's ships and the pirates' losses during the battle with the Imperials, the forces loyal to the New Republic would far outnumber the pirate fleet. The outcome was predetermined.
Second: the Invid themselves were actually behind Mirax Terrik-Horn's kidnapping, and they were indeed luring Booster into a trap and intended to take the Errant Venture from him. Then Yonka's appearance would only even the odds. Probably Cracken, when he mentioned the fleet's readiness at Naboo, had something like that in mind.
In any case, no matter how the battle unfolded before his arrival, Captain Yonka had no intention of taking excessive risks. The crew who had been through so much with him did not deserve to die in a battle with no chance of survival.
And now, right after completing the jump into the Rugosa system, Captain Yonka, as befits a warship commander, stood on the bridge of his destroyer. He looked at his reflection in the transparisteel. Not as clear as if he were looking in a mirror, but still.
Sair saw his own distorted reflection: a tall, middle-aged man, not muscular, not thin—what people called "lean." His black hair was already touched with gray, and his blue eyes harmonized perfectly with his attractive features, which ensured him unquestionable success with women. And envy from men. And jealousy from the husbands of those women who admired him.
He looked straight ahead... and saw a great deal. Because the Imperial ships had turned on their identification transponders so that onboard computers could identify targets via the IFF system, he could understand with extreme precision who was before him. Most pirates lacked such tact, but their starships had been identified by New Republic intelligence through characteristic engine emission signatures. Names weren't needed here—the main thing was understanding which forces each ship belonged to.
Yonka saw an Imperial Imperial II-class Star Destroyer hurrying toward his ships. Its identifier was already determined: Offensive. Leonia Tavira's flagship. The ship was fleeing the pandemonium unfolding behind it, firing back at the Interdictor to its starboard and sending small ships after the battered Victory I. The Star Destroyer was identified: that was the Steel Aurora. An Imperial ship, and Sair knew neither her captain nor her crew. The battered Neutron Star-class cruiser appeared to have only destroyed engines and multiple damages. Its artillery was feebly snapping back, but the ship clearly showed it had been hit very hard.
The stern of the pirate flagship was covered by a morally obsolete Venator—an aircraft carrier and flagship of one of the factions allied with Leonia.
This ship had already lost its shields, and its port side and rear hemisphere were being energetically and enthusiastically worked over by the turbolasers of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer. A "Two." And the Freedom's onboard computer had already identified this ship's transponder.
Chimaera. It was commanded by Captain Gilad Pellaeon. Honestly speaking—a commander who didn't reach for the stars, but a competent, dutiful officer who had been through the Clone Wars and was present during the Battle of Endor, who had seen the Empire's defeat, which marked the beginning of the end. This ship was leaving behind one immobilized CR90 Corellian corvette and a couple of similar ones exchanging fire with each other. Judging by the transponders, the Imperial corvette was emerging victorious from the engagement.
Behind the Chimaera, a pirate Acclamator and another Interdictor, identified as the Sentinel, hung side by side, hulls grinding together. An old acquaintance—they sometimes crossed paths during Outer Rim patrols. And this ship was not having an easy time—the pirates had either wrecked or destroyed its reactor. Otherwise, they couldn't be so close to each other. Blue turbolaser bolts from the assault ship were slicing into the Sentinel's hull and part of its superstructure, while the Sentinel, deprived of its power plant, could only pitifully spit back at the pirate fighters swarming around—the Acclamator was out of the Interdictor's turbolaser range. Oh, and there was the Sentinel's reactor—looks like they ejected it to avoid a thermonuclear explosion. Hmm... Actually, if you carefully removed the Acclamator, the reactor could be put back in place with improvised means—if you were resourceful. And provided the ship's belly wasn't an open wound with shredded communications. In the latter case, the Sentinel wouldn't be going anywhere without a tow.
To the right, stripped of weapons and turret artillery, blackened from battle, the Errant Venture was trying to maneuver. Only memories remained of its former paint job. It wasn't being shot at very intensely, but the Victory I—the Crusader—was beaten up, and that was already a third Interdictor. And barely capable of continued existence were a Strike-class medium cruiser and a Tartan-class patrol cruiser.
The arrival of two New Republic ships did not go unnoticed. The two Interdictors positioned on the flanks slightly adjusted their courses, and almost immediately their invisible artificial gravity cones enveloped the space that held both Yonka's ships and the fleeing Offensive. A desperate attempt to capture them—ships that still had mobility could easily get out of the artificial gravity zone. If the Sentinel had been operational, a third gravity cone positioned in the center would have formed a huge zone.
Yonka couldn't help but appreciate the Imperials' idea—create an artificial gravity zone that trapped the pirate starships. Judging by the deployment, the Imperials themselves were positioned in a semicircle and had set up a "fire sack" for the attackers—practically textbook tactics. Except it didn't usually involve interdictor cruisers. Well, it seemed Pellaeon had come up with something new. And apparently, Gilad was commanding this formation.
As far as he knew the commander of the Chimaera, he was unlikely to lead such a group of ships. Not because Yonka held him in contempt—no. Pellaeon commanded respect. But he wasn't a leader, not a strategist. He didn't step outside standard tactics—he lacked imagination. But such commanders were the overwhelming majority in the Empire.
So Pellaeon might be involved in this trap, but it was highly unlikely he had developed the attack on the Dufilvian sector. That meant this was yet another Imperial faction? Or had the Remnants decided to deal with the pirates themselves?
Still, the situation didn't call for an immediate message to Naboo requesting reinforcements.
The Interdictors, yes, good in defense, but they were badly mauled by the fighting. The Sentinel was no threat at all—finishing it off or capturing it would be extremely easy. The Imperials' and pirates' small ships didn't concern him—they might last a couple of minutes of battle. The Victory class ships were in bad shape altogether. Yonka acknowledged that the proton torpedoes of these Star Destroyers could, in principle, not only cause him serious trouble but also destroy his ships. However, judging by the fact that the Imperials kept their launch tubes closed, they had already fired and their torpedo magazines were empty. And in an artillery duel, even a pair of Victorys were no match for his "Two." The Strike and the Tartan were not long for this world—their crews should be evacuated, really. A pair of armed freighters—nothing more than training targets. The Venator was about to lose speed and surrender—pirates didn't like dying. And they were never going to escape the Chimaera. The Acclamator, locked with the Sentinel, would take about twenty minutes to disengage safely. If it tried to do it quickly, half the upper deck would tear off and it would be turned inside out from decompression.
The Neutron Star... yes, slowly turning, crawling—a couple of engines there were still alive. But even in its best years, this ship was no match.
The analysis was finished quickly.
Two fully combat-capable New Republic ships had arrived just in time. The only worthwhile enemies were the Chimaera and the Offensive. But they were far from ideal. The first retained eighty percent of its artillery, the second—less than forty.
The remaining starships were no match for Yonka's ships, even if they all banded together. Well, no, he shouldn't brag. Together, they could give both New Republic ships a good mauling. But it would take about twenty minutes before they could converge to firing range. And the pirates and Imperials wouldn't coordinate.
Yes, there were still pirate and Imperial fighters. Quite a few—maybe two hundred, two and a half. But they were so busy destroying each other that they posed no current threat to Sair's ships. And when they came to their senses, it would be too late. Far too late.
His own pilots were exceptionally good, and the gunners groaned from frequent training alarms, but they were unmatched. Actually, Yonka could handle his opponents alone—they had stretched their formation beautifully, were exhausted, and incapable of organized resistance for a whole range of reasons. But such a fight could drag on—which meant the Chimaera could at any moment order its Interdictors to deactivate the gravity projectors and try to escape, realizing they were about to be killed.
So, first of all, they needed to eliminate the Imperial and pirate flagships—they were the most combat-capable and could flee. Even if the interdictors and the Victorys escaped, it didn't matter. The Empire would need months to repair them. But the Sentinel, Acclamator, Strike, Tartan, and the Venator—they clearly weren't going anywhere. The latter had just received a full broadside from the Chimaera into its stern, shuddered, and was apparently moving by inertia. Oh no—the Imperial flagship had latched onto it with tractor beams, reversed, slowing its captive. All right, now the fun would begin—the Imperials would either shoot the immobilized ship or try to capture it. But most likely, they would abandon it and try to escape themselves.
Well, considering that Booster Terrik's ship wasn't in distress and the Imperials didn't have enough strength to destroy it, they could focus on the Chimaera, as the more combat-capable of the two flagships.
"Signal the Mon Karren to attack the Offensive," Sair ordered. The commander of the Star Cruiser was an experienced individual. That ship had once been the flagship of General Han Solo during the hunt for Warlord Zsinj. And it had performed very effectively. That was probably why Cracken and Ackbar had selected them for this mission. "And we'll take care of our old acquaintances."
At moments like this, you regretted that there was no longer a legion of naval stormtroopers on board, only a regiment of New Republic space marines. These guys would have a lot of starships to storm today...
Still, for boarding, they could also call the fleet from Naboo. Let them get a piece of the action too.
"Send to the Mon Karren—have them approach from the starboard side of their target; we'll come in from the port side, help them slow down Tavira, and then switch to the Chimaera," Yonka figured, adding to his plan. The Imperial flagship had already begun landing troops—shuttles and boarding pods were spilling out of its main hangar. It looked like they had decided to seize the Venator and the Acclamator.
"Sir!" his executive officer called out. "Orders transmitted, but... we're being hailed."
"From the Mon Karren?" he inquired.
"No, sir. They want to talk to us from the Chimaera."
"I hope Pellaeon wants to surrender," Yonka thought to himself. He didn't want to wipe out old acquaintances, even casual ones. At least not today, when the Imperials had actually helped them reduce both the pirates' and the smugglers' numbers.
* * *
"Major Himron reports that the Acclamator's bridge has been captured," Pellaeon said after receiving the duty officer's report. "The Sentinel has sent boarding parties to them as best it can. Lieutenant Jade has just completed the boarding of the Venator's bridge. I've ordered reinforcements from the contingent stationed on the Chimaera to be sent to them."
"The right move, Captain," I said, glancing at the chronometer. Two minutes. Quite fast. "The interdictors worked like they did in the drills?"
"Yes, sir," the captain's voice sounded tired. C'baoth's Battle Meditation was, without doubt, an interesting and useful thing, but after prolonged use, people felt wrung out like a lemon. Attention dulled, apathy set in. I had a theory that this Jedi ability could not only boost the skills of sentients but also their physical capabilities, mobilizing their bodies' resources for a certain period. And when the effect ended, the consequences set in.
"Request a damage report from the Sentinel and find out if they can put the reactor back in place," I ordered. "When we're done, there shouldn't be a single intact ship left here—only debris."
"Sir," Pellaeon looked at me. "There's actually a Mon Calamari Star Cruiser and a Republic Star Destroyer. And they're engaging."
"With the Offensive," I clarified. "They're not concerned with us yet—we have about a minute and a half in reserve. Start diverting power to the deflectors from the auxiliary reactor, but don't transfer it to the projectors—no need for the enemy to know we still have shields. Contact the group of ships near the Crusader and find out if they can organize a boarding party for the Errant Venture on their own. What's the status of the Steel Aurora's group?"
"Captain Kalian has disabled one of the CR90 corvettes and destroyed a Carrack. They're holding the other two ships in tractor beams and allowing Captain Vane's ships to begin boarding. The Steel Aurora has severe damage and is fending off fighters. Its artillery is practically knocked out, there are serious hull breaches, and only half of its air wing remains. The pilots and gunners from the interdictor cruiser are helping them. A similar situation on the Crusader's side."
"How are things with our corvette?" I asked. Pellaeon glanced at the tactical monitor and replied:
"They've got a hole in the reactor; they shut it down. They've locked hulls with a pirate ship and are fighting on its decks."
"Send them a landing craft for assistance," I ordered, looking at the chronometer. Only a minute and a half left. "Oh, and by the way. How is our highly respected magister?"
"Unconscious," Pellaeon said. "The medics say it's as if he were knocked out by a stunner."
"Either Leonia Tavira's allies did it, or C'baoth overexerted himself," I concluded. "Well, that's useful information."
"Sir," said Pellaeon after a dozen minutes of silence. "The rebels have silenced the turret artillery and two of the three engines on the Offensive. They're about to give us a beating..."
"Order the interdictors to turn deeper into the formation one by one and shift the gravity anomaly zone to the area of the pirate flagship," I ordered. "The updated vector should buy us time. And now... put me in contact with Captain Yonka's ship. We need to stall for time."
Pellaeon gave me a studying look. Then, with a sigh, he gave the order to the comm section.
"Captain Pellaeon," a small hologram of a Republic officer appeared before me. "Oh..."
"Almost, Captain Yonka," I said. "Captain Pellaeon is currently occupied with his duties. I hope that while you assume a combat course, we'll have time to talk?"
"Of course," the mild surprise that had appeared on the Republic Star Destroyer commander's face gave way to calm. Yes, he could hardly have expected a representative of a non-human race to be speaking to him from aboard an Imperial flagship. Considering the Empire's policy, after all. "With whom do I have the honor of negotiating a surrender?"
"Grand Admiral Thrawn," I introduced myself. A slight smile flickered across Yonka's face. Yes, of course. Imperial commanders have a habit of claiming the highest command rank simply because they can. "So, on what terms are you willing to surrender your starships to me?"
The Republican didn't answer. He blinked. Blinked again. Looked around, obviously checking tactical information. Yes, his confusion was understandable — the commander of a flotilla barely capable of handling even one capital ship was offering surrender. To him, who possessed an undamaged and fully combat-ready Star Destroyer Mark II. He was probably experiencing a small catharsis in his head right now, and that was exactly what I needed.
With C'baoth's help, we might have been able to hold out in this engagement. Most likely, even without him, we could have fought our ship and Yonka's Liberty to a stalemate. But with an exhausted crew, significant damage, and shattered artillery — my words must seem like a farce to him.
Yes, it took me several minutes after those starships appeared to realize — all was not lost. If there had been more of them from the start, then yes, I should have retreated, abandoning everything we couldn't take with us. But as it was... if no reinforcements had arrived in a few minutes, then he simply didn't have any. Or, more likely, they were on their way. Unless, of course, Yonka and his starships had ended up here by chance, having received information about the ship concentration. We hadn't picked up any signals from his ships, and in this pair, the flagship was clearly a Star Destroyer as the most heavily armed. Consequently, if reinforcements existed, they wouldn't arrive anytime soon.
Rugosa had been chosen for the ambush for a reason — there was only one known route here. No patrols ever came by. Convoys passed far from here — reconnaissance had confirmed that for certain. Therefore, chance or coincidence was ruled out.
Dismissing the chance appearance of Republicans here, the most obvious option was that Yonka and his wingman had arrived on a tip. And it certainly wasn't Tavira — otherwise her ship wouldn't be getting beaten like a mad dog in an alley right now. Consequently — Yonka was in contact with Booster Terrik, or someone from his gang. And if so... a two-level trap. Exactly the kind I had set up here myself.
The first starships engage us, take damage, we lose combat effectiveness, and then a cleanup crew arrives. And here it was, in all its glory, intending to finish what Terrik and Tavira couldn't.
Well, it was time to play the confidence card all the way to the end. A pity, of course, that I couldn't have brought all ten of my Star Destroyers here. But sending spare parts and personnel across half the galaxy — from Tangrene to the Katana Fleet's location — without escort and protection would have been the height of stupidity. At the very least because hyperlane routes in this galaxy were used by everyone — including our enemies. And they had interdictor cruisers too. Setting an ambush was not the biggest problem if you knew or suspected that hostile elements would be moving through that point in space. A convoy consisting of two Star Destroyers (not counting the Star Galleons) had a better chance of fighting off an enemy than a caravan without such escorts. No, if I had known in advance that Terrik would also bring the Invids — yes, I would have taken another pair or three of destroyers. But unfortunately, I only learned that news practically at the destination. Good thing there were ships nearby and at least a chance to try setting a trap. If we had been clearly outmatched — we would have fought our way out and planned another ambush.
"Are you joking, Grand Admiral Thrawn?" inquired Captain Yonka. "Your ships are seriously damaged, your artillery is partially non-functional, and your formation is broken. Before any of your starships can approach us and inflict significant harm — we will destroy you. It is you, not me, who should be talking about surrender."
A minute passed.
"On the contrary, Captain," I said in a calm tone. "By surrendering your ship and ordering the Star Cruiser to do the same, you will save tens of thousands of lives — your subordinates and battle comrades. No one wants unnecessary casualties. I give you my word — you will be treated as prisoners of war should be."
"The Empire is not known for humanitarian treatment of its enemies," cut in Yonka.
"This personal offer applies only to you, as a former Imperial commander of some standing," I said. "By making the right decision, you certainly won't regret it. I am sure Admiral Ackbar will not consider you a coward when he is informed of your decision to save lives rather than engage a numerically superior enemy."
"Numbers do not always decide the outcome of a battle, Grand Admiral Thrawn." There was no longer any of the initial hesitation in his voice. This man had calculated his chances of victory and made a decision. "You spoke of unnecessary casualties, Grand Admiral. While it is not too late, follow your own advice."
After glancing at the chronometer, I returned my gaze to the hologram.
"Is that your final word, Captain Yonka?" I clarified. "Do you intend to continue the battle?"
A great pity that the secret access code to the central computer of Imperial-built ships, obtained from Mara Jade, could not be used remotely. Whether it was originally designed that way or not, the ships only responded to the sequence when the data was entered directly at a terminal keyboard. How unfortunate — everything could have ended much earlier and with far fewer losses.
"Yes." Liberty was maneuvering to open fire on Chimera from the angle where we had the most damage. X-wings and Y-wings were already emerging from the enemy hangar, along with interceptors — A-wings. "Your battered fleet has nothing to oppose my squadron. As I have already said — numerical superiority of significantly damaged ships cannot change the outcome of a battle."
"You simply don't see the whole situation, Captain." The ysalamiri dozing on my legs rolled onto its back, presenting its soft belly for scratching. "When I spoke of the numerical superiority of my fleet, I did not mean what you think."
"Then what starships were you referring to?" smirked Yonka.
A few kilometers behind the stern of the Mon Calamari Star Cruiser, two metallic wedges materialized, topped with characteristic superstructures.
"These," I managed to say before the commander of the Stormhawk activated the standard attack protocol, which included communications jamming systems.
Glancing at Pellaeon, standing a few steps to the right of my chair, I ordered:
"To battle, Captain. Ask the gunners not to blow up our future trophies. Squadron Scimitar should take care of the communications systems on both ships."
The battle stations siren wailed. Chimera bristled with a deflector shield, and its guns spat the first salvo of green turbolaser lightning and blue ion cannon bolts.
The second act of the performance, titled "Ambush in the Rugosa System," began.
* * *
Captain Von Schneider watched the battle on a holographic display. Despite the fact that the Stormhawk, neighboring his Nemesis, had jammed communications systems, that was not a problem for understanding the current situation.
Those who cannot act independently do not become commanders of Star Destroyers.
"Helmsman, course three point nine," he ordered. "Heading for Chimera. Launch starfighters, prepare to repel attack. I hope Astorias figures it out..."
Morgot lived up to the commander of Nemesis's expectations. The second Star Destroyer executed a slight turn, raking the Offensive with fire from its starboard turbolasers and ion cannons. The Offensive was no longer returning fire at all — the diligent gunners of the Mon Calamari cruiser had silenced its artillery, busy as they were knocking out the destroyer's engines from astern.
The Stormhawk, describing an arc, fired its starboard batteries first at the pirate Star Destroyer, then switched to the MC80 that was trying to turn away. What happened, happened, but the hurricane barrage unleashed by Captain Astorias's gunners was clearly not designed to leave the enemy without problems. The deflectors might not have collapsed, but they dropped by a few percent. The rebel squadrons, panicking in the ocean of turbolaser crossfire, hastily abandoned their pirate targets and moved to intercept the TIE fighters and interceptors streaming from the main hangar.
"Port side turrets and batteries — fire on the MC80 along its course." Apparently, the Republic Star Destroyer, while advancing toward Chimera, had also taken the Offensive under crossfire. Standard tactics, and the disposition allowed it.
The starboard turrets of Nemesis, following the captain's orders, fired at the stern of the Republic destroyer.
"Turbolasers to medium power," ordered Schneider. "At this range, we won't break their shields with a couple of salvos, but we can force them to pay attention to us — yes. Let Yonka think about what matters more to him — his own engines or the desire to quickly knock down Chimera's shields."
It was impossible not to recognize the transponder of a former comrade. Even a blind man would have seen it.
But Schneider was not concerned with the former Imperial captain's past merits. To him, he was nothing more than the latest enemy — along with his crew, who were still flying an Imperial Star Destroyer only by some misunderstanding.
The concentrated fire of Nemesis's port batteries collapsed the deflectors in the area of the Mon Calamari Star Cruiser's starboard "wing," causing one of the artillery blisters to detonate. The tiny explosion silenced an entire battery. The Stormhawk, seeing its opponent turning, began to describe a coordinated arc to bring its bow towards the cruiser and use all the advantages of the Imperial wedge shape, allowing it to unleash both heavy-caliber turret cannons and nine medium turbolasers on the enemy. Meanwhile, the ship's starboard side continued to torment the unprotected stern of the Offensive. Blue lightning playing across the main engine testified to the death throes of the pirate Star Destroyer's drive. Now, until the power conduits were replaced, it was nothing but a target. The pirate fighters realized this, and together with escape shuttles spilling from the ship's depths, they rapidly headed for the edges of the gravity domes. It seemed the rats had decided to abandon ship. Unfortunately for them, the Stormhawk's pilots had entirely different plans. The escape failed almost as soon as it began.
Meanwhile, Yonka was having a hard time.
To save his engines and not end up like the Offensive, he had to turn his ship ninety degrees to port, bringing his starboard guns to bear on Chimera and his port guns on the approaching Nemesis. At the same time, the ship clearly intended to bank into a turn and try to escape, taking advantage of his still-functional engines.
"Guns to maximum power," ordered Captain Schneider. "Ion cannons — fire on the bridge. Deprive him of central command! Order to bomber squadron — take a wide arc astern of Liberty and fire shaped-charge rockets at the nozzles. Escort — one interceptor squadron. After completion, switch to destroying turret artillery. The rest of the fighters and interceptors — keep Liberty's small craft away from my ship. The last thing I need is a proton 'present.'"
"Is this wise, sir?" ventured the officer in charge of flight coordination. "It would be more effective to destroy his engines with proton torpedoes and..."
Schneider rolled his eyes so that the officers wouldn't see.
Youth! How can they not understand the simplest thing?!
"This ship," he pointed a finger at Liberty, turning to the bridge crew, "is a fully combat-ready Mark II. It doesn't have dedicated anti-starfighter artillery, so they'll either try to fight back with turbolaser fire at reduced power but high rate of fire, or sic their small craft on the bombers. Either way — we split Yonka's attention and artillery, while increasing our own pressure. Destroying the nozzles means immobilizing the ship until medium repair. No one will get it past us here. But damaged nozzles can still provide acceleration for a jump. Yonka might already realize it, but he'll never admit it — his ship is flying under New Republic transponder for the last day."
* * *
The impact was so powerful that Captain Kalian could barely stay on his feet.
Sirens wailed. As if struck by a giant forge hammer, the Steel Aurora shuddered, and the waves rippling through its hull nearly shook the ship apart, crumpling armor like paper. Somewhere in the destroyer's belly, secondary explosions rippled in a chain, wrenching the ship from within.
There was a ringing in his head, but the commander of the Steel Aurora was certain that he had left his comlink in his cabin. Which meant...
"Damage report!" he shouted. But despite the volume, his own words reached him as if through cotton wool. Concussion.
"The Venator fired a proton torpedo at us!" a junior officer appeared beside him. "Sir, the reactor armor is breached, radiation and fuel leak. Losing air on the lower decks! Cooling systems failing and..."
Hutt-damned pirate!
They had almost managed to escape the battle without catastrophic damage! And now — without a reactor, with a perforated hull, practically without cover, surrounded by enemy fighters. Good thing the DP20 corvette was still intact. Beaten up, but intact.
"Signal the corvette — tell them to move under our belly!" he shouted. Or whispered? Through clouded vision, the commander of the doomed and dying starship assessed the distance to the nearest ships. Bantha shit. Too far from friendlies. But to the enemy... "All power to engines! Divert one-third power to the mains — we're moving to the Offensive!"
"Then life support will fail!" his assistant objected. "Sir, emergency power..."
Grabbing the officer by the scruff of the neck, Kalian shook him, seizing him by the lapels.
"Do as I ordered!" he roared into his subordinate's face. "One or two more hits and we'll vaporize! We're heading for the Offensive! Issue weapons and armor from the arsenal to the crew!"
"Sir, there are seven times as many of them there!" the subordinate's eyes went wide.
"Get out of here, pup!" Kalian shoved the scrawny subordinate aside, staggering to the shipwide intercom panel. He repeated his order for the reactor and engine rooms.
"Attention all compartments," he said hoarsely, coughing. "The Aurora has sustained serious damage. The reactor is breached, and we are forced to shut it down. While we have power, we are moving toward the enemy Star Destroyer. Everyone arm themselves and prepare for boarding. Marine units advance in the first wave. Capture the bridge, the reactor room... kh-kh-kh!" A distinct smell of burnt insulation appeared on the bridge. "Engine room and gunnery deck — capture those too. Crew... a-kh-kh-kh!" Caught in a coughing fit, the young captain felt his throat raw. He noticed sprays of blood flying from his mouth. "Crew will take measures to capture and hold key compartments... kh-kh... of the destroyer! Reactor... kh-kh... scram as soon as the coolant temperature reaches critical!"
The Victory moved forward unhurriedly, like a proud queen, straight toward the trio of ships, only one of which currently belonged to the Empire.
The Stormhawk, sparing no tibanna, pounded the shieldless starboard side of the MC80. The cruiser, having taken several torpedoes to the stern and bridge area, simply sat still and snapped back furiously with all the strength and remaining capability it had.
Glancing at the Imperial ship, Kalian turned his head toward his own bridge.
Despite their relative youth, the combat bridge watch was calmly distributing personal weapons, putting light armor over their tunics. A stray thought crossed his mind — he hadn't been wrong to have one of the storage rooms converted into an arsenal for the watch. No need to run through a dozen decks, and they could save time...
The young captain had no doubt that his starship was living its last minutes. Even if the reactor was scrammed and the damage control parties, who had already donned vac suits at the first signs of trouble and were conducting repairs, the Steel Aurora would most likely perish. Whoever was in command of the Venator now, at least one proton torpedo launcher was under enemy control. Whether they would get off another shot or not — that was a lottery.
An even bigger lottery compared to bailing out in escape pods now, with pirate pilots zipping around, desperately looking for a way to do as much damage as possible. They had already lost the battle, and without hyperdrives, they wouldn't get far. Their destroyer was practically dead in space, and there had even been an attempt to evacuate. So at least some enemies had fled, making things a little easier. Maybe the Stormhawk or the nearest interdictor would notice that the Steel Aurora's crew had thrown themselves into a suicide mission and support them a little, but...
If the comm system were working, he would have reported the ship's situation to the commander and requested assistance. But the interference made it impossible to use the communications systems. And hunting for a less crowded frequency while sitting on an unstable reactor was suicide.
It was simpler to just launch an attack — after all, they had more than two regiments of space marines on the Aurora. If only there were more, they wouldn't have to think about fighting thirty thousand pirates aboard the Offensive.
Why did Imperial ships have such bloated crews? Why couldn't it be like on the Victory — five thousand two hundred crew and two thousand forty soldiers? Or on the MC80 — five thousand four hundred sentients on board... and just over a thousand soldiers...
Kalian turned to the transparisteel viewport, assessing the tactical situation.
The Mon Calamari cruiser was to port and slightly above, the Offensive to starboard and below. The distance to the first was less than to the second and...
"Helmsman!" shouted Kalian, still not realizing how quiet his voice was. "Turn thirty degrees to port. Full speed toward the MC80. Route emergency power to deflectors."
Looking at the stunned watch crew, the captain smiled.
"Too early for us to die today." He smiled as he saw the assistant he had just yelled at handing him a cuirass and a blaster. "Everyone aboard ships and lifeboats! We're going visiting the Mon Calamari!"
* * *
No one doubted it, really, but I was simply stating the fact that Sair Yonka knew his business when it came to crew training. Energy surges from the turbolaser batteries shook the forward section of the Chimera, already stripped of shields. Vaporizing armor spread into the vacuum in drops of metal, along with debris and the bodies of crew members killed by decompression.
Gilad had no illusions that the bow of his ship looked like anything other than a charred, shattered lump. Sith take Yonka! Sith take C'baoth, who had chosen such an inopportune time to "take a nap"!
More than a dozen ion cannons on Chimera's port side fired simultaneously. From the outside, the salvo looked like a wave of white-blue energy surging off one Star Destroyer and racing toward its sister ship.
Liberty, whose deflectors absorbed that destructive energy, seemed to shudder, pleasing the eye with its silenced starboard batteries.
"Captain, we've lost fifteen percent power on the remaining batteries!"
"No more port shields!"
Reports, one more "cheerful" than the last.
"Turn starboard toward Liberty," he commanded, glancing at the Grand Admiral sitting in the chair.
The Chiss, like a statue, kept his eyes fixed on the unfolding picture of the battle between the Imperial and Rebel air wings. The badly bloodied squadrons of Chimera were falling back, replaced by Nemesis's pilots, who eagerly took up the hunt for the enemy's X-wings.
Among the flashes of dying small craft, the explosion on the roof of Liberty's command bridge seemed insignificant. But the fiery inferno unfolding near its engines was far more notable.
"We are registering the destruction of shield projectors on Liberty!"
"Liberty's engine nozzles damaged! Speed loss of seventy percent!"
The Republic Star Destroyer immediately snarled back from all guns. With the naked eye, flashes of destroyed TIE bombers could be seen pulling away after their successful raid. Some were lucky — they either dodged or the turbolaser bolts missed them.
"The Stormhawk is deactivating the jammer!" reported Lieutenant Tschel.
Pellaeon swore. Fine, the Liberty was hit, but there was still the Mon Calamari star cruiser! It had communications systems too—and enviable ones, of excellent quality, at that.
"Don't worry, Captain," came the Grand Admiral's voice. "The Stormhawk's bombers already took out the bridge and communications systems of the MC80."
"Yes, sir," Pellaeon snapped. "As you say."
"Center forward," Thrawn ordered. "Bring us closer to the Liberty's port side. There's practically nothing left to shoot at over there. Tell the stormtroopers to prepare for boarding. Show no mercy to those who resist—we offered them a choice."
* * *
Captain Sair Yonka struggled to peel himself off the deck and get to his feet. His head felt so heavy it was a wonder he'd managed it at all. With a reflexive motion he wiped the sweat from his face, looked at his fingers—why was the sweat red?
A moment later he realized his hands were covered in blood.
Not just his—the entire crew's.
He looked around, scanning the bridge behind him. But only the crackle of sparking wiring and the stench of burning insulation and equipment greeted him.
Not a single living soul in sight.
"Anyone!" he shouted into the smoky twilight of the captain's bridge. "Report status!"
No one answered. He thought he glimpsed someone flickering in the smoke, but the illusion vanished at once.
On unsteady legs, Sair took a step toward the pits. Another.
His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the deck again. His chest slammed painfully against the edge, and his eyes caught a scene of wrecked equipment and the mangled bodies of the watch officers. His gaze landed on someone's severed hand, still gripping a regulator in its fingers. The glassy eyes of the senior gunner—and a piece of metal lodged in his neck, from which the last of his blood pulsed feebly.
Sair blinked and realized the gunner was dead.
Pushing off the deck, he tried to crawl on all fours along the central platform, but another impact literally swept him off his feet, tossing him into the second pit.
With a distinct crunch, the leg he landed on broke. Not his leg. The limb belonged to the tractor beam operator—a young lad, an ensign who'd joined the fleet less than a week ago, half his skull sliced off as if by a knife. His dead eyes stared straight ahead—at the commander who had ignored the voice of reason and picked a fight he was never meant to win.
The Grand Admiral had played on his ambition, knowing perfectly well how his fleet appeared from the outside. No one could resist such temptation—to finish off the cripples yourself. Just like fighter pilots get caught up in hunting a crippled target, not noticing new enemies creeping up on their tail. From that moment on, the life of a reckless pilot is measured in the seconds it takes a laser bolt to cross the distance between hunter and prey.
Today, Captain Yonka was supposed to be the hunter.
But he became the prey.
Sair raised himself on his arms and crawled across the bodies toward the end of the pit, intending to climb out onto the deck and reach the communications equipment. He had to contact Thrawn, surrender, buy time for the star cruisers to arrive and deal with the Imperials. Sacrifice himself, but put an end to this bloodshed.
Suddenly, and with absolute clarity, Sair realized he knew who was responsible for the massacre in the Dafillvean sector.
The Grand Admiral. A humanoid with a blue face and red eyes. A being that should never have been allowed into the Imperial fleet by definition.
Whether he was a "proper" commander or not no longer mattered. The New Republic had a very serious and extremely significant enemy, one who, like a skilled puppeteer, could provoke his opponent into doing exactly what he wanted.
The New Republic had to know! Had to, even if…
A series of explosions rolled through the combat bridge. With a vile screech, the ceiling panel mountings snapped, and they crashed down with a roar.
Sair screamed as a sharp piece of metal pierced his back and pinned him to a corpse. Pressing his face into the still-warm body, the commander of the Liberty understood clearly that his first officer was also dead. A piece of monitor had entered his eye and reached his brain. A second later, the rest of the ceiling structure collapsed onto the star destroyer commander's back, crushing the man's bones and mutilating part of the first officer's head.
Yonka remembered his name. Lieutenant Issen. During the battle against the Lusankya, that young ensign had reported the damage the star destroyer had taken from a single salvo from a super star destroyer. Back then, he'd also lost his first officer—a monitor explosion had blown his head off.
Back then, he'd also jumped into a fight without thinking. Decided it was the right thing to do. And lost half the crew.
He felt blood on his lips. It seemed the shrapnel had pierced something vital inside him. If so, he didn't have long.
The captain looked once more at the remaining eye of his subordinate. It stared at him with condemnation and contempt.
Sair Yonka, commander of the star destroyer Liberty, terror of the Outer Rim pirates, a man who always calculated risks and sought to avoid them, had taken a gamble for the second time in the past year.
On Thyferra, he and the Liberty had been saved only by a miracle—the hopeless situation the Lusankya had been put in by the guys from Rogue Squadron. But they weren't here today. Sair knew how much Wedge Antilles had wanted into this battle, because Mirax Terrik Horn was his childhood friend. Yonka remembered how during the briefing, pilot Corran Horn had threatened to desert and go rescue his wife himself. He remembered the assurances from Ackbar and Cracken that he, Sair Yonka, commander of the finest star destroyer in the entire fleet, would handle the mission. He remembered Cracken's persuasion, explaining there was no time to send Rogue Squadron, how long that redeployment would take, how important the work in the Sluis sector was…
Sair remembered all of it. Just as he remembered promising his crew he wouldn't let the Empire reach them. They'd fled Isard to stop carrying out criminal orders. They'd joined the New Republic because they had no other choice. They'd believed they were on the right side.
Captain Yonka suddenly realized he didn't regret his choice.
He had done what he thought was right—both then, when he accepted Antilles's offer and left Isard, and now, when he went into battle. A soldier's fortune is fickle—and everyone who serves knows that one day their life might end just like this: on the bridge of a starship caught in an ambush, buried under the bodies of young men and women who never got to see life.
Sair Yonka felt his vision starting to blur. A spasm in his chest caused him to cough up clots of blood. A moment later, another.
His body stopped feeling, filling with lead and losing its warmth with each second, turning into a cooling piece of mutilated flesh.
A new explosion, shaking the Liberty's bridge, buried the famed captain. And with him, the New Republic's hopes for victory in this conflict.