The freighter traced a tight spiral, slipping between two medium transports.
Han, as if enraged, threw the Millennium Falcon from side to side to evade the logistics service ships of the New Republic Defense Forces.
He seemed to have sworn to himself to pass near each new ship as closely as possible, so that Leia's heart would clench with fright.
"Buddy, don't overdo it," Lando, sitting slightly behind, advised him.
"Get off my back," Han said.
"All right, have it your way," Calrissian raised his eyebrows, holding his hands up palms out in a conciliatory gesture. "I just wanted to say our thrusters aren't on fire to be piloting like that."
Han was silent, but Leia could feel how angry her husband was, though he didn't show it.
"Iblis deprived me of the chance to participate in the battle!" the Corellian forced out.
"He's asking us to bring help," Leia stated.
"He could have addressed that request to an adjutant," Solo snapped. "Not send a whole general on errands. I've got a squadron left without command! And on the horizon — the Dominion fleet!"
Leia was silent, but her expression reflected that small catharsis she had been used to experiencing ever since this man saved her life, taking her from the Death Star.
Han had come a long way from a lone smuggler, trusting only his ship and his copilot, to a man who once became the victor over the warlord Zsinj.
Oh, how hard it was for Han to earn the trust of the Alliance leaders, who reproached him for his lack of willingness to take responsibility.
And now, he quite matter-of-factly expresses his concern not for her, not for the children, not for their loved ones, but for tens of thousands of sentient beings, many of whom he had never even seen.
It seemed that amid governmental affairs, she hadn't even noticed how her husband had transformed from the captain of his own freighter back into a father-commander.
"I'm sure Bel Iblis won't abandon them," she said.
"Yeah, I know," Han said without malice. "But… it could have been someone else."
"But…" Lando put in.
"Yeah, I know a fast ship is needed, and of all the tubs on Sluis Van, only my Falcon fits the bill, but I won't trust anyone else to fly her," Solo muttered.
"Then I guess the problem is solved… Oh, may a sarlacc bite me!" burst out Lando when they finally left the formation of ships and emerged in the upper echelon to begin accelerating for a blockade breakthrough.
And right on their course, crossing it with their characteristic triangular hulls, Star Destroyers appeared.
Imperial Star Destroyers, rust on their armor!
"How did they breach the security perimeter so quickly?" Leia worried.
"Is that all that worries you?" her husband clarified, pointing a finger toward the opening doors of the lead ship's main hangar.
However, a moment later, the other Dominion ships followed suit.
The massive armored doors slid apart, revealing the dazzlingly lit interiors of the ships.
Leia gritted her teeth, knowing what she was about to see.
She couldn't hear it in reality, but her memory helpfully supplied the spine-chilling sound of an Imperial twin ion engine.
But what she saw made her heart skip several beats.
The boundaries of the main hangar of the Star Destroyers, illuminated by a snow-white edge, did not disgorge aviation.
They spat out rocks.
Dozens of asteroids, hundreds…
"Great Force!" Leia exclaimed as Han threw the Falcon to the side, veering off the flight path of the first asteroid.
"They're some kind of too fast," Lando declared.
"Thrawn is using tractor beams to accelerate them," Leia guessed, gripping the armrest.
"Just like he did at Coruscant," Han chimed in. "Lando, would you be so kind as to get to the top gun before the wheel-bikes or something worse show up…"
"Already," Leia pointed toward the dots emerging from the white opening of the Chimaera's hangar. "They're launching fighters."
"Sorry, gotta go," Lando joked, dashing from the cockpit into the corridor with clear intent to reach one of the ship's two turrets.
"I'll take the second station," Leia informed. "We can't leave any direction uncovered if we want to get out in one piece."
"Be careful," Han asked. "We need about five to ten minutes to break through their formation and get away."
"And then we'll have to deal with an interdictor cruiser or an Interdictor," Leia reminded.
"If we get out of here, we'll break through there too," Han declared resolutely. "I have no more desire to test the limits of the Grand Admiral's hospitality."
"Yes," the former princess said quietly, glancing at the belly of the Chimaera. "Han…"
"I know, sweetheart," he tossed back. "Luke, Wedge, and one Sith knows who else might be on that ship. But we don't have time to check that firsthand."
Leia reached out to the ship with the Force to confirm her guess…
But encountered only an impenetrable veil, unreachable by the Force, enveloping most of the ship.
Thrawn was still shielding himself from the Force.
And so she could neither confirm nor refute her assumptions.
But her heart told her she was right in her suspicions.
The Chimaera moved in the company of two other destroyers of the same class to which the flagship itself now belonged.
* * *
The Pillar of Autumn and the Reckoning had themselves once been flagships.
The first had led pirate bands under Leonia Tavira's command, though at that time it bore the name Offensive.
The second — the former flagship of Prince-Admiral Krennel.
Perhaps someone would have considered such an attack scheme strange: not only did the destroyers attack from three distant directions on the Grand Admiral's orders, but also in each group the ships were divided into squads of three destroyers and placed under the command of officers who had been promoted after joining the Grand Admiral's fleet some time ago.
Lieutenant Jainer noticed the nimble Corellian freighter just as the Grey Wing squadron, having completed their launch from the Chimaera's hangar and reported readiness to engage, assembled in cruising formation on the port beam of the flagship Star Destroyer.
"Chimaera-OCC, this is Grey Leader," he opened a comm channel to the flagship. "Observing a YT-1300 moving on an intercept course. Identified as Millennium Falcon. Requesting instructions."
"Chimaera-OCC to Grey Leader," the helmet came to life a few seconds later with the dispatcher's voice. "Upon closing to twenty units from the flagship — intercept and take measures to destroy. How copy?"
"Order received. Upon closing to twenty from the Chimaera — intercept and take measures," Krieg repeated, simultaneously switching to the squadron channel and relaying the order to his subordinates.
And for now,
Through the cockpit and thanks to scanner data, the pilot could clearly see how the enemy was hastily deploying their aviation, how clumsy cargo ships were scattering in different directions, spewing Republic aircraft from their depths.
No additional orders came beyond his place in the flagship's escort formation, so the squadron commander could enjoy the spectacle of the asteroid strike.
The space boulders launched by the tractor beam operators rained down on the enemy formation like a stone storm.
Large and small, stones packed with rhydonium found their targets.
The New Republic formation, which had bound itself with too dense a placement of transport ships, played a very cruel joke on the enemy.
At high speeds, meeting practically no significant defensive fire from the enemy, the asteroids brought death to the Republic military.
Krieg, seeing with what ferocity the Republic X-wings were pouring fire onto several asteroids, smirked.
The natural "shell" of these "munitions" reliably protected them from detonation due to such countermeasures.
And yet, some of the asteroids still exploded, striking with stone shrapnel.
On the scanners, the lights of the Republic small craft began to blink out.
The stone rain tore Republic transports to pieces.
Boulders of various sizes pierced the relatively thin (compared to the armor of warships) hull plates, detonating so extensively that a few hits were enough to destroy a ship, turning it into a powerful flash accompanied by flying debris.
"The Falcon turned away," Krieg said, watching with displeasure as the Corellian freighter, having failed to reach a few units before the OCC-set boundary, decided to scoot off to the side. "I wonder if the crew on that ship is drenched in sweat?"
"Grey Wing," the earphones came to life with the voice of the OCC dispatcher. "Current mission canceled. Transmitting target coordinates — destroy the enemy elite squadron 'Nomads'. They are operating from the flagship star cruiser Truthful."
"OCC — order understood, proceeding," Lieutenant Jainer cheered, switching his comlink to the squadron frequency:
"Grey Squadron, attention, this is Grey Leader. Our target is the Nomads. Destroy."
Eleven clicks of confirmation, and a dozen TIE Avengers rushed to the hunt.
An elite Republic squadron?
What could be more desirable for a Dominion pilot?
"Break formation," Kreb ordered, being the first to break the Black Wing formation.
* * *
His Avenger, accompanied by his wingman, darted "downward," as if going into a dive attack on a damaged Republic GR-75.
The asteroids had relatively spared the ship, tearing off its aft section, but the cargo section continued to spew numerous A-wings.
And this injustice needed to be rectified.
Immediately.
The enemy had made an unforgivable mistake.
Counting on the ersatz carriers to realize their advantage in a direct strike on Dominion ships, the enemy command's plan was now working against its own pilots.
The A-wings, fast and maneuverable, found themselves squeezed into the relatively tight space of clustered starships and debris.
For the most part, they had to fight for their lives, and here another flaw in the enemy's plan became apparent.
The A-wings, like the enemy's other starfighters, interceptors, and bombers, were perfectly suited for hit-and-run tactics. And if Grand Admiral Thrawn hadn't disrupted this plan, the New Republic would have had an undeniable advantage over the Dominion.
But now the situation on the battlefield was completely different.
Kreb banked his craft onto its right side, letting debris from some ship pass beneath the hull, while simultaneously opening fire on the pursued enemy.
Intending to perform an upward maneuver, the enemy exposed its hull to the attack.
Four green dotted lines instantly cut through the space between the two ships, and the A-wing was torn to pieces.
Kreb dove straight down, then sharply pulled up, ending up beneath the hull of another enemy ship.
The open maw of the cargo hangar seemed to beckon him to launch something deadly into it.
And the man didn't resist.
Two shaped-charge torpedoes released from the pylons, speeding into the cargo ship.
The wingman repeated the maneuvers, and two pairs of detonations inside the ship, which had only just begun to launch the ships contained within, tore the medium transport to pieces.
Snapped in half, the starship became another mass grave.
For its crew as well as for the pilots waiting for their time to launch.
A pair of X-wings appeared on the right, immediately opening fire on Kreb's pair and his clone wingman.
The pilots' inexperience was immediately obvious—they were firing too early, outside the convergence point of their guns. As a result, not a single salvo hit its target.
The Dominion pilots, however, didn't keep them waiting for a reply.
Breaking course, the TIE Avengers evaded the flank approach, then executed mirrored ascending spirals that transitioned into loop-the-loops, bringing them into a position behind the tails of their recent "acquaintances."
Those pilots were already trying to engage a pair of TIE Interceptors, once again confirming their limited combat experience.
No competent fighter pilot abandons an enemy they were exchanging fire with a moment ago simply because that enemy moved out of their field of view.
Find and destroy—that's the blood-written mantra of every fighter pilot.
And Kreb followed that immutable law.
Without further words, he and his wingman split the targets and got down to business.
Kreb's first shot went wide—the enemy tried to dodge.
Making adjustments, Kreb fired a few "test" bursts to gauge the enemy's reactions to threats from various angles.
Having discerned a pattern from the chaos of the enemy's maneuvers, the squadron commander moved to eliminate them.
His shots, with two precise hits, drained the enemy's rear deflector of all power, after which the enemy tried to escape by banking to starboard.
But Kreb was already expecting that maneuver.
A moment before the enemy changed course, he had already aimed his fighter along the proper trajectory and pulled the trigger.
Green laser blades sliced through the vacuum near the enemy's starboard engine pair, but the next salvo spectacularly shredded the X-wing's tail.
The nose section coasted forward for a bit on momentum before detonating in a secondary explosion.
His wingman, who had already eliminated his own target by then, rejoined the squadron commander, taking his designated position in the small formation.
The monitor blinked, indicating the loss of one pilot from the squadron.
"Black-Two, proceed to point two-two-eight," Kreb ordered. "Squadron, take measures to find the killers of Black-Twelve at point two-two-eight. Execute."
The wingman obeyed without question.
The other ten pilots did the same.
If the enemy had pilots capable of destroying one of the Blacks, then not all their pilots present here were rookies.
And if someone managed to defeat one of his pilots, that was reason enough to take on that enemy personally.
Especially since Black Squadron was on a "free hunt," meaning they chose their own targets.
"Black-Eleven to Leader," Kreb heard his own tense voice. "At point two-two-eight, Lancer Squadron is operating. My wingman was destroyed by them."
"Switch to defensive," the squadron commander ordered. "Thirty seconds to contact."
Thanks to the active work of Dominion Intelligence, regular fleet pilots were guaranteed to have knowledge of all named enemy squadrons.
Having a proper name rather than a color or number—that was a practice established in times so ancient that it no longer mattered under current circumstances.
One thing was clear: if these pilots had their own name, they were experienced, having been through many battles. Most likely, the majority were ace pilots.
All the better.
For the next phase of the operation, the regular fleet required minimal enemy small craft activity.
The more aces destroyed during the current phase, the easier it would be for the boarding parties and ships.
Lancer Squadron was operating exactly at the point indicated by the commander of the sixth pair of Black Wing.
But by that time, they weren't that many left—only nine.
Meanwhile, the Blacks had already been reinforced to six by now. Plus the Eleventh.
Seven against nine.
The odds were uneven, given that the Lancers flew A/SF-01 B-wing starfighters.
Also known as "Blade-wings," these craft had a very specific gyroscopic system.
Thanks to it, the cockpit remained stationary while the rest of the ship rotated around it, allowing the pilot to fire at a specific area.
This starfighter was designed to duel with most standard TIE-series craft in Imperial Starfleet service.
It was not uncommon for B-wings to also be used for attacking well-defended Imperial ships during the conflict with the Rebel Alliance.
This ship type had a considerable number of Star Destroyers to its credit.
Operating in cooperation with X-wings and "wishbones," these craft formed an unstoppable wall of fire that nothing could hinder.
And even the TIE Avengers, equipped with deflector shields, were not a panacea.
Like most other Republic starfighters, the B-wing was a universal modular platform designed for various armaments.
In addition to two main-caliber laser cannons on the side panels, there was also a laser cannon mounted under the cockpit. Additionally, the designers equipped the craft with a twin ion cannon in the lower fuselage and two proton torpedo launchers.
Combined with a powerful deflector, a sensor system with long detection range, its own nav computer, hyperdrive, a fairly advanced onboard computer, and an ejectable cockpit for crew survival, it was a more than worthy opponent even for the TIE Avengers.
But regular fleet pilots knew perfectly well that no ship was perfect.
The B-wing was no exception.
The gyroscopes that allowed the hull to rotate around the cockpit were a finicky mechanism—sometimes they jammed at the worst possible moment.
And the Dominion pilots had thoroughly studied the technical specifications and capabilities of these machines.
Not only their own, but the enemy's as well.
Grand Admiral Thrawn demanded a lot from them—and it showed every time the pilots had to face new enemies in battle.
Besides design issues, there were also purely technical ones stemming from the layout and components of this starfighter.
Low speed, poor maneuverability, a large hull silhouette—not to mention the complexity of control made this craft unsuitable for inexperienced pilots.
Consequently, Lancer Squadron consisted of highly experienced veterans.
If Kreb remembered correctly, the unit had been quite active three years ago during the attack on Coruscant.
Well, today would be their last sortie.
The lieutenant had already figured out how the enemy had managed to destroy Twelve—they outnumbered him, knocked down his shields with ion cannons, or simply attacked with proton torpedoes.
His squadron leader reported that all versions were correct.
Well, they were lucky—not all clones of Black Wing had sufficiently honed their skills to the proper level.
But fighting a strong enemy was worthy training.
"Individual hunting," Kreb commanded, breaking the seven fighters from three pairs into independent combat units.
The squadron commander picked his target and went on the attack.
His pilots followed the commander's example.
The Blade-wing detected him early enough to choose: run or fight.
A spot turn for such an unwieldy machine was nearly impossible.
So the enemy tried to break away, calling a comrade to come flank or tail the pursuer for a kill.
Not today.
The enemy formation scattered to counter the Blacks, and so it was time to show the Republic aces who ruled the near-planet space.
The squadron commander, with cannon fire, forced his target to start rotating its fuselage around the cockpit while increasing sublight speed.
But as soon as it started evading, Kreb switched to the Blade-wing that was providing cover.
The onboard computer warned him of a targeting attempt on his fighter.
That wouldn't do—Black Leader opened fire with lethal intent, wearing down the enemy ship's deflector shields.
Too slow, even for the most modern cannons.
So Kreb switched to missiles and fired one at the enemy by eyeball—there was no time for careful aiming.
But everyone wants to live, so the Blade-wing hurried to break its lock on his TIE Avenger and get clear of the missile.
That allowed the Black Wing commander to attack at full strength.
Thanks to his deflector, he deflected the enemy's laser bolts without much trouble, also keeping in mind that the enemy was likely preparing to fire an ion cannon.
Charging requires energy redistribution, which meant there was time to pursue.
Kreb chased after the Blade-wing that had darted aside, devouring its deflectors with fire from his laser cannons.
The energy shields held out long enough for the first B-wing he had attacked to complete its turn and intend to destroy the squadron commander.
Scarlet laser beams flashed past the cockpit, as if warning of danger.
Kreb, waiting for lock confirmation from the computer, fired a shaped charge missile, leaving the seeker head to deal with the second target.
He himself went into afterburner and dove down, thereby spoiling his first Blade-wing's attack.
Unlike the enemy, he could perform medium and advanced aerobatic maneuvers without fear of his ship spending too much time on them.
So within a couple of seconds, he pulled the nose up and attacked the Blade-wing from below.
Such an attack in practice had little chance of success because from the bottom profile the enemy presented a very small silhouette compared to a frontal or rear attack. The laser cannons would simply miss, especially since at that moment the distance between ships was only about fifty meters, while the convergence point on the squadron commander's fighter was set for half a kilometer.
That's why Kreb wasn't counting on a successful laser cannon attack.
He simply launched a shaped charge missile, disabling the seeker head.
The high-speed projectile, capable only of flying straight with its "brains" disabled, worked as intended.
The launch was made with lead on the Blade-wing's straight-line speed—and at the moment the missile reached the right spot, it struck the B-wing's underbelly.
A second later, Kreb flew past, watching as a spectacular fountain of explosion and debris turned the Blade-wing's cockpit into a gondola riddled with shrapnel, inside which nothing whatsoever survived.
The lieutenant turned his fighter in a spiral, shifting the point of impact, and finished the ship off, leaving none of the enemy pilots any chance of survival.
The next second, his fighter's deflectors were stripped away by a precise and powerful ion cannon hit.
The squadron commander instantly analyzed the attack trajectory and dove down, understanding that moving left or right would allow the B-wing to attack him using its fuselage rotation.
But even to bank the ship "down" would require significant effort from the enemy crew.
The enemy's shot shorted out the deflector projectors, leaving the lieutenant without energy shielding for the rest of the battle—or until returning to the Chimaera.
But under battle conditions, that was impossible.
Therefore, he needed to destroy his current target.
After that, options might exist.
The lieutenant executed an ascending spiral, coming at the enemy from the left side.
The flanking strike hit the B-wing's deflectors, which the enemy didn't even notice.
Pressing the trigger while closing with the enemy until the approach threatened a collision, Kreb pulled up into an Immelmann over the enemy fighter.
Then, knowing the Blade-wing would certainly try to shoot at his tail, he dove down, then rolled through the starboard side to evade a burst from three firing points, got on the enemy's tail, and hammered laser shots into the rear deflector.
And again he couldn't drain it before having to avoid a collision with a slower target.
This time the squadron commander broke left, preventing the enemy from predicting the pattern of his evasions.
Turning his TIE Avenger, the Black Wing commander realized he had been dragging things out with this enemy.
The Blade-wing was clearly heading toward its fighting comrades—it was easier to fight together than alone.
Time to end it.
The lieutenant switched to shaped charge missiles and disabled the seeker head on the one already ready for launch.
The distance was too great, and the deflectors were strong enough that the B-wing would either survive the hit or evade the homing munition.
So Kreb again closed with the enemy, hosing him with laser cannon fire, counting down the seconds until the last chance to break away…
The computer reported that he had knocked down half of the enemy's starboard deflector, and there was just over fifty meters to collision.
The squadron commander switched to shaped charge missiles and fired, simultaneously pulling steeply up into a spiral along the axis of travel.
The cockpit lit up for a moment—the missile had found its target and blasted the Blade-wing to pieces.
Glancing at the control panel, he confirmed that he had lost only one pilot, while the New Republic's Lancer Squadron had been completely destroyed.
The other ships of the squadron, having reached the battle site, completed the rout of the enemy.
A quick roll call, and the result was clear.
Some ships had run out of missiles, and had minor or major damage.
"Combat-capable Blacks continue the mission; damaged ships return to the Chimaera," Kreb ordered.
Watching the perforated TIE Avengers head toward the flagship, the lieutenant led the five remaining operational ships into the ongoing battle.
After all, for someone who had recently been piloting a TIE Interceptor, the lack of missiles and a deflector was no problem.
And an extra reason to gain experience and pass it on to the next generation of his own clones.
* * *
"The Millennium Falcon has left the blockade zone and broken the light barrier," reported Vice Admiral Pellaeon, approaching the Supreme Commander.
"Excellent," the latter said. "Begin the countdown until their return. Two and a half hours."
"Aye, sir," the Chimaera's commander saluted and moved to the watch officer to give corrections to the gunners.
Three "twos," like enormous combines in a grain field, reaped their harvest, shooting enemy transport ships from maximum range.
The asteroid attack not only practically destroyed the starships between the Imperial ships and the Republic rear, but also forced the intact starships to maneuver urgently to avoid being hit.
Now, amid an ocean of debris, the Republic starships began to make up for lost time.
The Imperial ships, supporting with fire both the sector fleet holding back heavy cruisers and Venators and the fleet under Bel Iblis and Admiral Duplex's command, continued to hold their ground in orbital space, protecting themselves from direct ion cannon salvoes.
Which did not prevent them from launching dozens of fighters from their holds and rotating forces.
"Are you so eager to engage the Millennium Falcon in battle, Grand Admiral?" asked Luke Skywalker.
"I am not interested in destroying that starship," replied Thrawn. "Otherwise, they would not have left the orbit of Sluis Van."
"But you expect their return," Luke pressed.
"Not them," said General Antilles. "Bel Iblis has surely held back some forces for the end. And now he sent a ship to call them here, since Grand Admiral Thrawn has committed all his forces."
"Yes, it is time for the Fourth Fleet to appear," Thrawn agreed. "However, you are mistaken, General, if you think that all the starships intended for this battle are before you."
"Then where do you have more from?" asked Iella.
Thrawn looked at her, raising an eyebrow as if noticing the Corellian's presence for the first time and quite surprised he hadn't paid attention to her earlier.
"The New Republic is generous in matters of returning Imperial property," Thrawn replied vaguely. "Though not only it."
"Are you saying you've set a trap for the Fourth Fleet?" asked Luke.
Thrawn ignored his question.
"Observe," he advised. "What you are seeing will be a lesson for the New Republic and all others foolish enough to try to destroy me and the Dominion. If you are lucky enough to survive this battle, you will be able to convey much useful information and advice to your leaders. For example—that you should not try to set traps for me. It is far simpler and safer to accept my terms."
"Your ships are outnumbered, and after the Fourth Fleet arrives, the advantage will be exclusively with the New Republic," Iella said quickly. "Unless you wish to bring in the Lusankya and that second Executor that fought Admiral Ackbar at Soulex, you cannot win this battle."
"Is that so?" Thrawn inquired.
"Yes," the Republic agent said firmly. "In three hours you cannot destroy the entire fleet here. And as soon as the Fourth Fleet arrives, everything will be decided. So spare your grand speeches and surrender instead. There's no need to sacrifice your people."
"An interesting proposal," the Grand Admiral smiled. "Agent Wessiri, would you be so kind as to repeat it over an open comm channel for General Bel Iblis? Frankly, I would rather spend time collecting trophies than in firefights whose outcome is predetermined."
"It would be, if you had managed to destroy the Republic ships at the perimeter or at the shipyards," stated Wedge. "But you only thinned out the transport starships. Our warriors bravely withstood the blow, and you didn't even manage to force the interdictor cruisers to retreat so you could escape the system when needed."
"And destroyed your motley squadrons lurking in ambush," Thrawn continued the thought. "I suspect the boarding parties for capturing my ships were also there."
"We still have enough transport ships to capture all your starships," Luke declared, adding a mental caveat: If the remaining transports actually contain pilots and troops, not cargo.
"Strangely enough, I was about to say the same thing, Jedi Skywalker," said Thrawn. "But in the context of your armed forces."
"I doubt it," Wedge grinned, jabbing a finger at Admiral Argentis Duplex's fleet bearing down on the Chimaera. "Your destroyers won't last against that many combat starships."
"We shall see," Thrawn remarked vaguely again. "At the moment, everything is proceeding exactly as anticipated. The New Republic bravely counterattacks along the invasion front, forgetting that the defensive perimeter was breached from three sides."
Gilad glanced sideways at the enemy general.
The young man's face showed concern and confusion.
He glanced at the tactical monitor, then at the convergence of the two fleets visible through the main viewport…
"That cannot be," he said. "Duplex is too experienced not to notice the approach of two groups on the flanks!"
"And he did notice," Thrawn said calmly. "And sent ships there to intercept. As a result, he reduced the number of Star Cruisers in the frontal assault. A logical move, since thanks to the SEAL system and air support from defense stations, those groups can hold out long enough to secure the flanks. A very logical action when there are no ships among the enemy equipped with anti-ship missile launchers. But there is a nuance."
"And what is that?" Luke asked impatiently.
"I never counted on Bel Iblis letting me destroy the interdictor cruisers," Thrawn stated. "On the contrary, I need those starships in working condition."
"For what?" asked Luke, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"Observe," the Grand Admiral repeated. "Now we will destroy Admiral Duplex's fleet."
Exchanging glances with Iella and Wedge, the young Jedi Knight noted the panic beginning to show in their eyes.
* * *
By the time Black Pearl and Colicoid Swarm were pulled out of hyperspace by the gravity mines of Republic interdictor cruisers, the picture of the battle at Sluis Van gave little indication that everything was going according to the New Republic's plan.
Admiral Duplex's fleet was advancing in a wide formation toward the planet's north pole to engage the task forces under Grand Admiral Thrawn's command. Dozens of Star Destroyers had already opened fire on the Mon Calamari ships, and a duel had begun between the adversaries.
General Bel Iblis's flagship was positioned on the right flank, while General Solo's flagship was on the left. Five Star Cruisers each moved to intercept two groups of three Imperial I-class Star Destroyers to prevent them from freely reaching the shipyards.
Behind the arriving ships, two groups of Immobilizer 418-class interdictor cruisers had positioned themselves, their gravity mines deployed in a wide fan, which had pulled two ships out of hyperspace.
Behind them held numerous Imperial-design starships, squeezed between the mobile shipyards and battered transports on one side, and a huge mass of freighters on the other.
In the same direction were several dozen Mon Calamari Star Cruisers that could not break through the defended perimeter due to the congestion of transport starships.
And behind them, having destroyed all available defense stations, were heavy cruisers, Corellian corvettes and frigates, and Venator-class Star Destroyers engaged in a firefight with Republic ships.
Judging by how often nearly undamaged but inactive Mon Calamari-designed ships appeared, the ion cannons of the Dragons were periodically in action.
#
Two Providence-class carrier-type Star Destroyers, accompanied by three Munificent-class star frigates, fifty armed freighters, and a number of Wolf Packs and Kavil's Corsairs starships, took up positions that had previously been held by Republic star cruisers.
Essentially — in their rear, amidst the shipyards and mobile orbital docks.
Surrounded by debris and the scattered remnants of enemy squadrons.
"Raise shields, launch fighters," Tyberos ordered, peering through the spacious viewports of his ship's bridge at the distant running lights of the enemy. "Missile launchers and turbolasers — fire on Admiral Duplex's star cruisers. Munificents and Wolf Packs — attack the interdictor cruisers! Prepare the assault ships!"
The Kavil's Corsairs, as prescribed by the altered plan, used their light ships to attack the remnants of enemy transport starships and fighters.
Captain Anilex dispersed his Arquitens-class cruisers so that they would sweep in a wide arc across the cleared transport fleet, burning out the last remnants of Republic resistance.
The Republic command's attempts to withdraw unnecessary transports, allowing the "Imperial" starships to escape their trap, led nowhere good — the Kavil's Corsairs literally annihilated everything that didn't bear Dominion identification marks.
The Wolf Packs and Munificents, having completed their turn, began artillery duels with the interdictor cruisers, simultaneously launching boarding starships from their holds.
Rushing toward the suddenly defenseless enemy vessels, the heavily armored ships literally gnawed into the hulls of the Immobilizers, tearing through armor and bulkheads with powerful tools, filling the internal compartments and corridors with squads of Dominion soldiers.
The armed freighters of the Wolf Packs crashed into the unprotected hangars of the interdictors and orbital docks. With thunder, screeching, and grinding, landing ramps lowered onto the decks, and hundreds of armed fighters — cutthroats from Axila, many of whom were fighting their first battle — surged into the attack, sparing neither themselves nor anyone who fired upon them.
The Black Pearl turned the stern of an MC80a star cruiser into a sieve with its first salvo.
The coasting hulk was then subjected to fire from the carrier-type destroyer's artillery.
Turbolasers, once salvaged from Imperial Victories, tirelessly belched white-blue flame.
The star cruiser's shields held exactly until a second volley of anti-ship missiles crashed into the remains of what had once been a fully combat-ready Republic starship.
A wall of fire, erupting from the simultaneous detonation of several dozen warheads, burned away virtually everything remaining on the starship's hull while simultaneously coating it with black soot.
The heated, cracked in places, and here and there pierced armor was then subjected to artillery fire immediately after the missile barrage.
The armor foamed and melted in the silent vacuum.
With each new salvo from the slowly advancing carrier-type destroyer, the star cruiser's silhouette shrank further as the ship literally disintegrated into pieces.
A third missile salvo from the starboard side put a definitive end to that starship's existence.
The Colicoid Swarm had already clashed with a similar opponent — Admiral Duplex had committed four MC80a-class star cruisers to protect his rear.
Effectively reducing his strike group to ten ships.
Which matched the quantity, but not the quality, of the starships that Grand Admiral Thrawn currently held over the planet's north pole, awaiting his opponent.
Tyberos ordered the next enemy destroyed: two cruisers had already turned and were moving to intercept the Black Pearl, firing from every artillery barrel.
With fine Imperial weaponry, Imperial-grade shields, the latest armor, engines, and systems, and a full air wing of upgraded ARC-170s, he could enter such an engagement without the slightest concern.
"Fighters — strike target number two. Gunners and launcher operators — target number one. Destroy them all."
Eymand might not have appreciated it, but Tyberos at that moment felt moral satisfaction spreading through him from the carnage unfolding around him.
He was more than certain that Thrawn would not hand over the killer of his old friend and mentor. Otherwise, he would have done so without delay, instead of offering vague promises and hints.
Well then...
If that was truly the case, at least he could destroy as many Republic forces as possible.
* * *
The Colicoid Swarm shuddered as a series of explosions rolled across it, the result of concentrated fire from two opponents simultaneously.
"Sixth deck is decompressed," Yazuo Vain commented, jumping to one of the droids' terminals.
"I recommend sealing the blast-resistant bulkheads," Aut-O's head said in a phlegmatic tone.
"Uh, sir?" a B-1 asked, looking at Irv with a dull expression.
"Do it," he snapped.
"Got it-got it!" the droid replied.
"Have all landing craft left the flight deck?" Irv asked. "Are the fighter-droids on guard?"
"Yes," Yazuo chimed in. "Approaching the mobile docks."
"Excellent," the commander of the Colicoid Swarm said, licking his lips. "Seal the hangar deck with armor plates. Fire on the starboard star cruiser. Rapid fire with turbolasers, launchers — volleys."
"Got it-got it!"
"The selected tactic's effectiveness is forty-two percent," Aut-O declared. "I recommend shifting focus to the port star cruiser — it already has damage and will be an easier target."
Indeed, the indicated opponent had multiple hull breaches — apparently suffered from an asteroid attack.
"I'll stick to my plan," Irv declared. "We destroy the most combat-capable first."
"I project a loss of sixty percent of turbolasers," Aut-O couldn't resist adding. "Using my tactic, we'd limit it to fifty-seven percent..."
"Not much difference," Vain remarked.
Irv silently supported his subordinate.
The Black Pearl performed admirably on the battlefield thanks to its rearmament.
The Colicoid Swarm lacked such luxury — because Irv understood that such services would never pay for themselves. The cost of such work was nearly the cost of the ship itself.
Tyberos agreed because he was on the Dominion's payroll, and Thrawn wouldn't demand anything from him except obedience to orders.
But from Irv, he might well demand either money or the ship — he'd pulled that trick before, more than once.
Irv had no intention of parting with the Colicoid Swarm.
At least not in the near future.
"A shame we didn't sort out the air wing restoration. We'd be teaching these fools a lesson right now," Vain said dreamily.
But Thrawn had no spare fighter-droids: Tyberos had spent the last ones hunting various small fry in Dominion sectors.
And buying modified fighters from Thrawn meant finding pilots. Irv hadn't solved that problem yet, so the carrier-type destroyer had gone into battle as a large assault ship armed with outdated anti-ship missiles, turbolasers, and troops aboard — but without a meaningful air wing.
Well, the enemy didn't have that many fighters either — the Kavil's Corsairs were mopping up their remnants and shifting to cover the capture of New Republic interdictor cruisers.
The enemy star cruiser under fire stubbornly resisted.
The Colicoid Swarm's slow missiles were intercepted; at best, a third reached their target. They didn't inflict critical damage but methodically weakened the starship.
They just needed to hold out a little longer and make the bastard ignite into a thermonuclear sphere.
"Sixth battery is out of commission, seventh damaged," Vain commented after another hit on the carrier-type Star Destroyer.
"Send repair droids to the seventh battery," Irv ordered. "Begin yawing on course."
This would reduce the enemy's hit percentage.
"Analysis complete," Aut-O declared. "I recommend closing with the enemy — missile hit percentage will increase to fifty-three percent at twenty-unit range."
Sound advice.
The Colicoid Swarm's anti-ship missiles were its main weapon.
Due to their advanced age, they didn't produce the firestorm Tyberos unleashed on the enemy.
But as distance decreased, the Republic specialists' reaction time also shrank.
Which was directly proportional to the number of hits.
And the missiles were desperately needed — with turbolasers alone, the destroyer would chew through the protection and then the MC80a itself over a considerable amount of precious time.
"Closing in!" Irv shouted, feeling his ship shudder again — from bow to stern.
"Second and fourth batteries destroyed."
"Maximum acceleration!"
The Colicoid Swarm shuddered throughout its hull but obediently surged forward.
Its flanks, which had seen countless battles in the past, were under serious strain. But the copy of General Grievous's flagship held up admirably, literally flooding the enemy with missiles.
By the end of the ten-minute engagement, having let the Black Pearl pass ahead, the Colicoid Swarm finally finished off its first opponent.
Well, the beginning was made.
Just one target remained, and then they could feel indecently wealthy...