"Just think," said Tanda Pryl, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. "I was promised, of course, that the Thunder wouldn't get bored, but to this extent..."
Liquidator, Stalker, Inexorable, Abyssal Fury, Point of No Return, Twilight, Red Gauntlet, Void Wanderer, Wolf Claw, An'ya Karu, Implacable, Motivator, Evil Wind, Pulsar, Skystrike, Invincible, Krueger, and, of course, the Thunder itself.
Eighteen Star Destroyers, sweeping in a wide arc around the outer perimeter of Sluis Van's orbit.
And that's only the first and second generation Imperator-class ships.
There were also two Imperator IIIs, but they had a separate assignment, and Captain Pryl didn't know what it was.
Oh, yes... There were also the Victory-class ships.
Adamant, Steel Aurora, Crusader, Striving, Triumph, Monarch, Liberator, Shining Star, Pathfinder, Rancor's Fury, and Nexus Smile, once known in the Republic fleet as Swift Liberty, Selonian Flame, and Korusca's Fire, respectively.
Also present was Retribution, formerly in the Ciutric Hegemony fleet under the name Wisdom of the Emperor.
Thirty Star Destroyers, screened by sixty Corellian CR90 corvettes and DP20 frigates.
Not to mention the armada of TIE Interceptors and TIE Bombers that crashed into the enemy fleet like a tsunami, showing no mercy to anyone in its path.
The Thunder came under fire from several X-wings, but they didn't accomplish anything.
The operators of the Star Destroyer's laser cannons, on the other hand, did.
So the enemy didn't escape retribution and continued their flight as nothing more than scrap metal.
Dead ahead, a Mon Calamari Star Cruiser was clumsily turning, clearly intending to get as far from the battle zone as possible.
It was escorted by one squadron of Blade-wings, which intended to engage the Dominion interceptors bearing down on them.
"Shift fire to the starship at coordinates eight-six-zero!" Tanda ordered quickly. "Turn three degrees to starboard. Reduce speed to one-third of cruising velocity."
The pilot executed the command precisely, and now the Thunder, joined by the Stalker in the barrage, was tearing the Mon Calamari Star Cruiser apart like target practice.
That ship had already taken damage to its stern when the main force of Star Destroyers first arrived at the destination point. Its main engines had been hit, but not enough to rob the ship of the ability to maneuver reasonably well. Plus, the enemy had managed to raise their deflectors.
It didn't matter anymore, anyway—working together, the two Destroyers would quickly collapse the enemy's shields and then destroy the enemy starship. The Stalker's fighter screen protected both Destroyers from stray attacks, while the Thunder's interceptors, defending both bomber squadrons, allowed them to strike the New Republic ship under bombardment.
The faster the enemy ships were destroyed, the better.
* * *
Iella Wessiri turned away from the main viewport as, right before her eyes, two Mon Calamari Star Cruisers erupted into fireballs, instantly incinerating themselves and the nearby enemy fighters.
The Corellian woman shot a venomous glare at Grand Admiral Thrawn, who sat calmly in his chair.
"You said something about thirty Destroyers," Skywalker muttered somewhat timidly.
The young woman looked at Antilles, who silently watched the attack on the Fourth Fleet, trying to understand how this weakling could be the core of the whole plan if scenes like this didn't even trouble him or kindle righteous fury in his chest.
Her countryman seemed to be trying not to look at the man he had once attacked the first Death Star with.
"Do you have a complaint, Jedi Skywalker?" Grand Admiral Thrawn inquired.
"There are clearly more ships here... And you said thirty..." The woman shot another glance at the Jedi and nearly rejoiced at what she saw.
She had been too hasty, thinking badly of him—Skywalker's face was set with grim determination.
He was only pretending. Playing his own game.
But what game, and why?
"I said three dozen," the Grand Admiral corrected his interlocutor. "It's not the same thing."
"You're just a butcher," Iella snapped contemptuously. "You have no respect for sentient life!"
"This is war," Thrawn replied, his tone growing somber. "You want to kill your enemies to achieve your own goals. I want to realize my plans. If killing is necessary for that, then so be it."
"A maniac's philosophy," Wessiri shot back. "Trying to justify mass murder with your twisted philosophy!"
"I have no intention of convincing you of anything," Thrawn stated. "You are merely observers. If you draw the proper conclusions, it will serve you well in the future. If not... I pity you."
Iella looked at the Jedi.
He gave her a silent nod of agreement.
Well then... Now for the hardest part.
How to distract the guards?
* * *
The Millennium Falcon was just rounding a Star Cruiser when Han noticed a cone-shaped protrusion sitting directly above one of the hull's many bulges.
But because the freighter was fleeing a TIE Interceptor on its tail, he couldn't get a detailed look.
Only five minutes later, after Leia and Lando had destroyed the pursuer, did he manage to return to the ship and grasp what was happening with all due attention.
The MC80 was exchanging fire with one of the Dominion's Destroyers, but it all felt sluggish and forced.
He had to make several orbits around the ship before Han understood what was going on.
Plasma drills had somehow attached themselves to several parts of the starship.
The bridge, the secondary command post, the compartment with communications equipment...
The battle raged around them, but the Corellian felt that what was happening here and now was more important.
"Lando," he hailed his old friend over the intercom. "How are you doing over there?"
"Do you really want to know?" Calrissian asked, accompanied by the sound of laser fire.
"Your drills have latched onto the hull of one of the Star Cruisers," the Corellian explained. "I want to check what's going on."
"I don't think this is the best time for me to be in the cockpit," Calrissian lamented. "There are more interceptors here than fleas on a Wookiee."
"Then maybe you have an idea what the drills are being used for in such an interesting way?" Solo asked.
"Nothing comes to mind," Lando admitted. "Those things are built for mining. They cut their way in with plasma cutters, break up the rock, sort it..."
"I doubt Thrawn wants to melt our fleet down for scrap metal," Han grimaced. "Sweetheart, you okay?"
"Strangely enough, yes," his wife replied. "But I think I saw Lando's drills not just on the cruiser we're near now. Want to check?"
"Of course," Han glanced at the chronometer. "Our fire-ships will be ready soon, but I think we've got a couple of minutes to spare."
He had already flown past the nose of the Star Cruiser.
Han guided the ship toward the next vessel and began circling it...
"Same story," he said. "Bridge, secondary command post, communications bay."
"Can we contact these ships?" Leia asked.
Han clicked some switches on the control panel.
"Dead silence," he replied. "Their comm system seems to be disabled."
"That's bad," Lando commented. "Maybe they burned out the communications gear with plasma cutters, leaving the fleet without coordination."
It actually sounded reasonable.
Depriving ships of the ability to coordinate their actions meant effectively breaking the coordination of the entire fleet!
Bel Iblis wouldn't be able to issue orders quickly, and the crews of the Star Cruisers...
At one point during his orbits around the Star Cruiser, the Corellian saw a TIE Interceptor emerge from under the Mon Calamari ship's belly, right in front of him.
It opened fire on the Falcon almost immediately.
He thought the canopy was melting, but the Corellian reacted on instinct, throwing the ship into a hard turn.
Several seconds passed before Han realized he didn't hear the sound of escaping air, and the transparisteel was intact.
Calrissian was yelling something in his earpiece.
"We're fine," Han declared, wrestling with the Falcon's controls.
The freighter was bucking, and it was clear that while the Dominion pilot hadn't destroyed the cockpit, he had still managed to damage something.
"Leia, are you alright?" he asked, worry creeping into his voice.
"Yes," his wife replied after a second. "That interceptor won't bother us anymore."
"Attagirl," Han praised her. "Now hold on—I want to check something about where those drills are placed."
Even though they'd shaken the interceptor, dozens more were buzzing around.
That didn't inspire much optimism.
To test his theory, Han picked a Star Cruiser off his starboard side. Bringing the Falcon up to the section of the hull where the bridge protrusion was located, he reduced speed and slowly positioned the ship, matching velocities so he could see what was happening inside.
It only took him a couple of seconds to see the crimson flashes raging throughout the Star Cruiser's bridge.
There could be no more doubt.
"General Iblis," he opened a channel to the flagship, pulling his starship away from the boarded cruiser. "Those truncated cones aren't just drills. They're drop pods—Thrawn is landing boarding parties with them. Straight onto the bridges and communications gear."
"Three interceptors, port side!" Lando warned.
Han banked hard. The Millennium Falcon was already being thrown from side to side, which didn't bode well.
One of the hostiles raked his ship's port side with its cannons but immediately turned into a fireball when a burst from the lower gun mount caught it.
The wife was on fire today, though.
"We know," Bel Iblis's voice cut through the speaker. "Thrawn is tearing our ships apart. We've lost contact with every starship nearby. Everyone the ion cannons or plasma drills have reached has stopped responding to hails."
Yeah, that was an understatement.
On the outer edges, thirty-one Dominion Destroyers, supported by six dozen light ships, were chewing through a third of the Fourth Fleet's Star Cruisers.
The ships that had stayed close to the disabled Imperial Destroyers were barely better off themselves—they were being pounded by ion cannons and swarmed by every type of fighter.
And the Star Cruisers caught between those two categories were being attacked with the drills.
"So what do we do?" Han asked distractedly.
"Command the fire-ships," Bel Iblis ordered. "I'm trying to save the remnants of the fleet. If we can, we'll punch through their Destroyers and leave the Sluis Van system."
"Another defeat?" Han grimaced.
"Either that and we save some part of the fleet, or we all die here and effectively lose operational control over the southern part of the galaxy," his countryman cut him off.
"Understood," Han grunted, switching to the channel for the officers in charge of preparing the fire-ships. "Sir... We might all die here, but this could be our last real chance to destroy that blue devil. Even at the cost of the entire fleet, but..."
"Belay that, General Solo," Bel Iblis said dryly and officially. "The problem is much bigger than it seems. If the Grand Admiral manages to carry out what he's planned, he won't be stoppable. No matter which option we choose, it's a losing one from the start. The only question is the severity of the consequences. Thrawn doesn't intend to destroy the Fourth Fleet's Star Cruisers. He's using the plasma drills to capture them."
Han felt everything inside him clench into a tight knot.
* * *
Something fairly massive, round, and spewing fire flashed past the bridge of the Krueger.
Captain Der shot a displeased look at his subordinates.
"Why did that Blade-wing break through the inner perimeter?" he addressed the watch officer.
"We've taken losses on the left flank, sir," the officer replied. "Two fighters have gone in for repairs; their replacements are currently pursuing the enemy. Security has been restored."
"Do not allow any more breaches!"
And indeed, the New Republic starfighter soon got its due and exploded, turning into a beautiful ball of plasma near the Reder's bow.
Right after a pair of TIE Interceptors set about correcting their own mistake.
By this point, the Star Destroyer had completed its turn, just as a New Republic Star Cruiser came charging into view through the main viewport.
"Fire all batteries!" Der ordered.
The Reder switched to a new target, stripping away chunks of its deflector field with salvo after salvo.
The field kept regenerating its power.
But the enemy couldn't penetrate the Star Destroyer's defenses either. Having undergone a partial refit, the ship now had the SEAL system in its arsenal and could hold up not only against this opponent but also against the two neighboring Star Cruisers it had been bombarding with its own artillery.
Now it had switched to a target that was clearly trying to escape the system, thereby moving beyond the artificial gravity zone.
"Inform the Bellicose, the Steel Aurora, and the Crusader that we are handing our two targets over to their care," Der ordered, perfectly aware that stopping the current pressure on the Republic ships made no sense.
The enemy was clearly starting to realize how serious their situation was.
A powerful interdiction force, major assets from Grand Admiral Thrawn's side, the need to fight on multiple fronts at once—these were not the simplest realities of war.
Over years of fighting pirates and rebels on his own, Der had learned to regard enemy commanders with, if not respect, then at least attention and understanding.
Idiots, whoever they were and whoever they worked for, didn't live long and didn't get ships under their command.
But he hadn't met any particular geniuses among those he'd fought, either.
It was the same here.
He observed perfectly competent actions from the enemy Star Cruiser commanders.
Of course, half the ships here didn't fall into that category—because you can't do much fighting when Dominion troops are dropping onto your head from the overhead deck plates, slaughtering everything in the most vital compartments for the ship's combat effectiveness and survival.
But the rest, overall, were acting skillfully.
These weren't the old rebel insurgents anymore, where only one in ten or a hundred had a military education and knew how to handle a starship as military science dictates.
This was an actual army.
Quite professional, battle-hardened, having been through more than one engagement and with many victories behind it.
Now you could see the enemy commander deliberately repositioning the starships still under his control, pulling them slightly farther from where the plasma drills could attack them.
So they'd already assessed the threat from those drills and would do their best to avoid it.
The Krueger, like a jackhammer, pounded turbolaser bolts into the hull of the enemy ship moving toward it.
Captain Der noted enemy starfighters appearing from behind the Star Cruiser's stern, one after another.
"Perimeter, attention," he said. "Vector two. Mixed enemy squadron. Fifth Interceptor Squadron—destroy the enemy. Bomber Squadron, prepare for launch."
A specific plan was already forming in his head.
The fact that the Victory-class ships, no less powerful than the Imperial-class, were currently covering his flanks was good, of course.
But the Krueger's commander had no intention of getting into a prolonged firefight with an MC80—otherwise, you just couldn't crack that shell with its constantly regenerating shields.
It was enough that the regular fleet's TIE Bombers, piloted by the best ace pilots (and their clones) from across the Dominion, had proven time and again just how effective aerial strikes could be.
This time, they would have to repeat their success.
* * *
It took Leia a few minutes to process what Bel Iblis had said.
Now everything was falling into place.
The pieces of the puzzle were coming together.
Calrissian's missing drills.
Their prolonged absence from sight clearly indicated they had been worked on. Converted into boarding pods.
Thanks to their thick armor, these little ships, designed for work in conditions close to molten metal, could become an excellent, and most importantly, cheap—alternative to the boarding shuttles the Empire usually used.
Thrawn had used the protracted operation at Sluis Van specifically to lure the Fourth Fleet here with all its cruiser strength.
That's why Thrawn had used long-range communication jamming—he was picking off the Republicans one by one.
First, he attacked the shipyards and gained control over them.
He eliminated the fleet protecting the orbital docks and withdrew it into hyperspace.
He saw through Bel Iblis's plan regarding the transports and destroyed most of them, making room for his own starships from the system's perimeter.
He moved the bulk of the ships he was willing to sacrifice into the heart of the orbital position, then began capturing the defenseless, undermanned warships that the New Republic had turned into freighters in the past and hadn't managed to return and fully crew.
He disabled the Imperial-design starships that could have given him a fight, successfully using the "layered" defense system built by the New Republic Defense Forces' Supreme Commander against them, virtuosically turning the transports against the Republicans themselves.
First, when the invasion came exclusively from the outer part of the orbit, Thrawn used the mass of freighters to avoid being fired upon by the "Imperial starships" and tied down the sector fleet's ships in battle.
The tactic of "littering" the orbit with transport ships was meant to shield the Republicans from attacks by the "miracle bombers" that the Dominion had already used so successfully.
And in the end, it turned out that those same ships had prevented the New Republic from achieving fire superiority.
Thrawn destroyed the "inner" layer of transports, then disabled and captured the "Imperial ships."
And now, having trapped the Fourth Fleet's Star Cruisers between his two armadas, he was partially destroying them and partially intending to capture them.
Just as he had been doing for the past five months.
With three dozen captured cruisers and one Super Star Destroyer, he had managed to make the New Republic appear as the aggressor toward Lianna.
And what would happen when he had two or even three times as many such ships as he currently did?
Especially since he already had two SSDs!
And hundreds of light ships that could be used to protect the rear, guard communications, patrol hyperspace routes, transport small military cargo shipments...
And now he had gained control over twenty-five orbital docks, hundreds of Imperial ships: Star Destroyers, battle cruisers, interdictor cruisers, escort carriers... Everything with a large internal volume had been turned into freighters and ended up in orbit around Sluis Van.
And Thrawn had laid his now-infamous grasping hand over all of it.
Every skirmish with the Grand Admiral's forces was part of a huge picture—this battle.
He had methodically practiced the necessary elements of this decisive engagement on them.
The planetary blockade—on Xa Fel.
The breakthrough to the shipyards—at Hast.
The full-scale battle—in orbit of Soulex, Coruscant, Sarapin, Bestine.
The "miracle bombers"at Ossus (and possibly in other battles, we just don't know about them all yet).
Time and again, he had increased the potential of his war machine, spinning so many combinations at once that it was simply impossible to keep in your head!
He captured ships by attacking systems, convoys, and small detachments, simultaneously testing the combat effectiveness and durability of his own ships and crews, and now he was giving them a final exam.
Bel Iblis, and before him Gial Ackbar, claimed they had understood this commander.
But in reality, it was he who had been studying them.
Meticulously, almost under a microscope.
Studied, described, tested, and brushed them aside like a mechanic discards a used, no-longer-needed rag.
"Fire-ships are ready," Han reported over the intercom. "Leia, Lando... I can't ask the same of you, but I need to be in the thick of it so the droids can follow my signals. I'm their 'guide,' so..."
"Yes, yes, yes," Calrissian said impatiently. "You're going to throw yourself into the fire again, and you want to ask us to sit on the sidelines and watch your genius. Sorry, pal, but that's not happening today."
"And besides, if you've forgotten, we made each other a promise," Leia smiled, turning to memories that momentarily doused the anger seething inside her.
Yes, maybe the Grand Admiral had managed to outthink Ackbar and Iblis, but those who tangled with the Skywalkers and Solos regretted it bitterly.
Leia closed her eyes for a moment, calling upon the great Force.
Luke, if you can hear me... Get off the Chimaera, she mentally addressed her brother.
But the Force remained deaf to her pleas.
And the gaping blackness on the bridge of the enemy flagship seemed dead and unreachable.
But there was no other way.
* * *
Luke took a tiny step forward, noting that Wedge and Iella were already ready to execute the plan.
Absurd, with no chance of success, but there was no other way.
How many times had they already emerged victorious from similar situations, stumbling into them with the exact same motivation?
"The enemy transports have started moving," Vice Admiral Pellaeon suddenly announced.
Luke froze for a moment, looking at what was happening beyond the main viewport.
Hundreds of the GR-75 medium transports, famous since the time of the Rebel Alliance, were turning and moving toward Grand Admiral Thrawn's fleet, which was holding the inner part of the Sluis Van defended perimeter.
"It seems General Solo is leading this attack," Pellaeon remarked, addressing Thrawn, who was silently watching everything unfold.
Luke took another step.
The Skywalker momentarily distracted himself to look around.
Iella and Wedge were ready.
And the cargo ships were moving through the ongoing battle like swift white-gray streaks of lightning.
He saw on the display that one section of the Chimaera's deflector shield was slowly but steadily turning red.
The flagship, even though it held the second line of attack, ceding the lead to the heavy cruisers and corvettes, was still absorbing a significant number of turbolaser shots into its shields.
"Restore the shields," Vice Admiral Pellaeon ordered.
Luke heard Antilles curse softly at the same moment the deflector's color changed from red to green.
"You have a SEAL system aboard your ship," the Corellian said.
"And you're perceptive, General," Thrawn praised him.
Luke took another tiny step toward his goal.
He watched the battlefield, hoping there was always another solution to the problem.
But unfortunately, nothing else came to mind.
Half a dozen combat ships were milling about nearby, all firing like mad, while the transports bore down like an unstoppable snowstorm on Hoth — the kind he'd once been unlucky enough to get caught in.
"Your assessment of the enemy's intentions, Vice Admiral," Thrawn said abruptly.
"Minimal escort, a large number of starships incapable of proper combat," the vice-admiral began listing quietly. "If you think about it, the enemy split his transports shortly before this. Some were busy removing crews from the Star Destroyers we'd already towed to the rear, while the others were constantly receiving and dispatching ships..."
"Does that ring a bell?" the Grand Admiral inquired.
Pellaeon didn't answer.
But Luke figured it out.
Judging by the look on Wedge's face, he wasn't the only one.
"Bel Iblis is using the same ramming tactics against us that he employed during our attack on his base," well, this Vice Admiral Pellaeon was also a perceptive man.
Or at least competent enough to decipher the maneuver.
"Correct," Thrawn agreed. "With the sole exception that now it's not a single 'Dreadnaught' coming at us, but several dozen transport ships with no armor to speak of, and this suicide attack is being led by yet another Corellian. I suspect Lando Calrissian and Councilor Leia Organa-Solo are also on board."
Luke used the officers' conversation to invisibly shift his feet closer.
Now only a couple of meters separated him from Thrawn.
"We need to disrupt the attack," the Grand Admiral said calmly. "Give the orders, Gilad. The Chimaera's target is the Millennium Falcon. The Republicans are unlikely to have found enough suicide volunteers for such an operation. Therefore, the starships are being piloted by droids, with General Solo coordinating them from his own vessel."
"Yes, sir," the Vice Admiral acknowledged, raising a comlink to his lips. "Attention, fleet. The enemy is using transport ships as fire-ships." Use any means necessary to eliminate the threat and keep our vessels combat-ready."
After switching off the comm device, he looked at the watch officer hovering nearby:
"Gunnery, acquire and destroy the Falcon," he ordered. "Pilots, move the destroyer up one echelon."
A second later, the Star Destroyer's turbolasers roared to life, spewing streams of green plasma from their insatiable maws.
Luke watched with a sinking heart as the nimble freighter began to dance through oceans of plasma, dodging the hits.
The transport starships, however, were clearly having no luck.
Fighters, gunships, corvettes, Star Destroyers, and heavy cruisers rained fire upon them, desperate to keep the fire-ships from colliding with their targets.
With every hit from turbolasers or laser cannon ordnance, the hulls of the freighters darkened, blistered, foamed, and vaporized.
Assuming, of course, they weren't pierced clean through immediately.
The enemy lost starship after starship, but there were still far too many of them.
"Multiple contacts, sir!"
"Vector?" Pellaeon inquired.
"Moving in close proximity to the ships, at the same speed as the transports," Pellaeon explained.
"Resistance?"
"None, sir."
"I see," Thrawn said, exchanging a meaningful look with his Vice Admiral. "Your thoughts?"
"I'd say they're trying to replicate our tactic of launching TIE fighters with specialized equipment. But using cargo containers to inflict greater damage on our forces."
"Well then," Thrawn said. "Let them try. Bel Iblis is attempting to split our forces, just as I did with his own fleet an hour and a half ago. He hopes this will allow him to concentrate his efforts on repelling the main force's attack, counting on the fact that we can't then press his starships from both sides. A fatal mistake to think I haven't prepared countermeasures for such a move. Ensure that suppressive fire rids our forces of this scrap metal. You know…" he paused briefly. "I'm canceling the Chimaera's order to attack the Millennium Falcon. Our guns are needed more to destroy the enemy fire-ships…"
Luke let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief.
"…Let the Black Wing squadron destroy General Solo instead," Thrawn finished.
The Jedi felt his mouth go dry as the Grand Admiral gifted him with that hellish stare.
"After the destruction of 'Rogue Squadron,' Lieutenant Kreb and his subordinates will need fresh material to keep their skills sharp."
Luke looked at Wedge's back.
His old friend was clenching his fists so hard it seemed his fingers might pierce his palms.
Luke could find no more excuses for himself.
He took one more tiny step toward the monster.
* * *
Any first-rate Star Destroyer can destroy ships.
And roughly every second crew can too.
But capturing prizes…
"Commodore Stormaer, I'm not sure this is what's expected of us," the commander of the Void Wanderer said, skepticism clear in his voice.
"Captain Abyss," Antonias said as patiently as he could, "how many MC80-class starships does the New Republic fleet possess?"
"Several thousand," the other replied wearily. "My destroyer is currently turning two of them into scrap."
"But the 'Home One' modification is quite rare," Stormaer stated confidently. "The entire Fourth Fleet has only three of them. Two have already been destroyed in the current battle. This one is the last. And such a ship is clearly needed by the Dominion."
Because this starship's armor is practically equal to an Imperial Star Destroyer, its armament is quite serious (though inferior to the Imperial class), and it can carry up to ten squadrons of starfighters.
All this, multiplied by a shield strength comparable to that of an MC80 Liberty class, and the presence of a real, fully functional backup command center (not a converted compartment from the ship's standard quarters, as happens with the Liberties), plus a flag bridge, made this starship an excellent command ship.
Or a strike carrier.
By comparative characteristics, this kind of starship, with proper use of its artillery and air wing, could stand up to an Imperial class.
Therefore, it must be captured.
But for that, the Abyssal Fury needed fire support — a lot of ion cannons and air cover.
To ensure the assault shuttles and the few plasma drills with their crewed life support systems reached their target intact, that numerical superiority was also necessary.
"The Void Wanderer will cover you from its vector," Captain Abyss said.
"In that case — let's get to work," Commodore Stormaer said with renewed energy, turning to the watch officers and issuing the necessary orders.
The two Imperial class Star Destroyers, both Mark Is, along with their sister ships and the upgraded Victory class ships, had long since shifted to a semi-encirclement tactic, wedging themselves into the formation of the Fourth Fleet's star cruisers.
But in accordance with the Grand Admiral's instructions, the Star Destroyers did not advance beyond the forward lines, preferring ranged combat.
Snarling with every gun, the Void Wanderer and Abyssal Fury advanced across the battlefield toward their designated prey.
TIE Interceptors, receiving the corresponding orders, disengaged from local skirmishes, converging on their carrier ships to ensure their safety from enemy air attacks.
The target star cruiser was escorted by two other MC80s, but of the Liberty type.
It hadn't yet been "decorated" with additional details like plasma drills, but the stern clearly showed signs of damage from bomber strikes.
Numerous engines were either mangled or destroyed, and on the remaining thrusters, the formation's flagship couldn't get far.
Effectively, it was on the left flank of the entire Republican formation, which the Dominion ships were relentlessly pressuring.
And now, with a coordinated strike, both destroyers could completely collapse that flank, thereby opening a breach in the Republican formation.
"Bomber squadrons — launch," Stormaer commanded. "Escort — standard. Corvettes — support the attack with a ten-second delay. Squadrons one through three — join in another fifteen seconds."
Abyss followed his formation commander's order, and two dozen TIE bombers left the destroyers' main hangars.
Under the protection of two interceptor squadrons, they briskly set course for the MC80 Home One type.
The enemy air wing reacted immediately, rushing to intercept the small craft that posed a serious threat to one of the rarest star cruiser types in the Republican Defense Forces.
Delighted by such "weak" resistance, the enemy's seventy-two starfighters intended to meet just four Dominion squadrons — a pair of bomber squadrons and an equal number of TIE Interceptors.
It was precisely for this — to lure out the enemy fighters — that Stormaer was gradually introducing reinforcements.
By the time the air wing units assigned to repel the raid from all three star cruisers had engaged the attackers, they could no longer react in time to the entry of the two Corellian CR90 corvettes into the battle.
And that proved fatal for those enemy pilots sent to eliminate the Dominion starships.
Busy engaging the TIE Interceptors, they reacted too slowly to the corvettes' appearance in the fight, whose crews had long since become adept at destroying starfighters.
Stormaer tore his gaze away from the battle, drawn by powerful flashes on the other side of the Republican ship formation.
New Republic transports were ramming Dominion heavy cruisers.
Damaged and sluggish even in perfect technical condition, the Dreadnaughts could barely evade such impacts, no matter how hard their crews tried.
Battered in the first part of the battle, the starships perished, receiving critical blows to their hulls.
The angular starships snapped in half, crumbled into pieces, turning into localized supernovas.
More than half of the GR-75s never reached their targets, destroyed by Dominion fire, but even those that got through were enough for the task set before them.
The heavy cruisers were dying.
Corvettes and frigates that also fell victim to the New Republic's fire-ships exploded.
Five Star Destroyers, towed away from the line of contact with the enemy, also did not survive such a "close encounter," and their disfigured hulks drifted slowly, abandoned by their tugs.
Stormaer felt a pit in his stomach.
Five Star Destroyers in one blow!
Oh, what in the blazes was going on here?!
But this fact only confirmed his desire to capture the Home One.
And now nothing could stop the Abyss.
Both TIE Interceptor air wings, accompanied by the two battle-scarred Corellian corvettes, burst into the close perimeter defense zone of the three star cruisers like swift hunters, leaving only the wreckage of six enemy squadrons in their wake.
To the accompaniment of the Void Wanderer and Abyssal Fury's turbolasers and ion cannons, the MC80s had to fight on all sides.
The Republican escort units, dispersed and pulled apart, could not offer sufficient resistance.
The bombers, despite suffering certain losses, did their job.
A series of explosions — internal and external — disabled the escort cruisers, leaving the Home One alone with the two Star Destroyers.
Circling the starship, similar to the highly-publicized flagship of the Rebel Alliance (and later the New Republic), from both sides, the destroyers began methodically breaking down its defenses.
With a simultaneous landing operation.
Launched using tractor beams, the plasma drills with their life support systems (unlike their remotely piloted counterparts without such equipment) embedded themselves into the enemy starship's thick armor like darts, peppering its smooth hull contours with their truncated cones.
The bridge, the engine compartment, the reactor room, the navigation deck…
Every battery, every deck, every remotely important patch of the starship's hull was now studded with truncated cones.
Vanguard of the boarding party was already aboard the starship.
And the fight for control had already begun.
Antonias had no doubt that Grand Admiral Thrawn hadn't just arbitrarily ordered all the plasma drills containing living soldiers, not droids, to be concentrated on his destroyer.
Stormaer was almost certain that the Supreme Commander shared his taste for prizes, which was why he'd placed the best assault troops in boarding actions under his command.
Now, encased in the hulls of numerous Gamma-class assault shuttles, a second wave of fighters was rushing to reinforce the boarding party, bolstered by heavy units — B-2-HA droids and Droidekas.
Support forces that simply couldn't be placed inside the "diggers" when live troops were also in there.
The Void Wanderer and Abyssal Fury disgorged every troop transport they had at their disposal and returned to finishing off the Liberties that had suffered from the artillery barrage.
The Home One was a foregone conclusion.
There had never been a single task that Dominion stormtroopers hadn't handled.
* * *
"Sir, the fire-ship attack has failed," Han yelled, trying to shout over the roar of inert gas escaping from a punctured conduit in the corridor.
"I wouldn't say that," Bel Iblis said dryly. "We destroyed his heavy cruisers — all the Dreadnaughts he brought with him that hadn't already been reduced to dust by our cruisers' salvos. As well as Munificent-class frigates and numerous corvettes, not to mention that his armed freighters are finished and half of Kavil's Corsairs group has been wiped out."
"And we additionally wrecked five Star Destroyers he had his eye on," Leia added, dropping into the seat next to her husband. "Just a shame we couldn't smear his interdiction cruisers."
"Uh… honey?" Han inquired, steering the freighter into a gap between two huge pieces of wreckage. "Don't think I'm nitpicking, but… why aren't you on the gun?"
Just a Dreadnaught broken into pieces.
Perfect for losing the pair of TIE Avengers on their tail.
After the fire-ships were destroyed, the Millennium Falcon had no need to attack the rest of the enemy fleet alone.
The starships had done their job — Thrawn's heavy cruisers were destroyed, creating a field of debris that prevented part of the Dominion fleet from properly harming the Fourth Fleet.
So there was no point in taking unnecessary risks.
If they'd known for sure that Luke or Wedge were aboard the Chimaera, Han would have raced to the destroyer without hesitation and come up with a rescue plan — half audacity, half luck.
But they didn't have that data, so it was better to look after themselves.
"I'd have gladly stayed there," Leia stated, "but we don't have it anymore."
"Too bad," Han replied. "It was my favorite turret. How's Lando?"
"He's fixing a punctured conduit," his wife explained. "And the piping two meters further down. And the distribution panel. And the converter…"
"Well, let him keep himself busy then," Han smiled, banking into a steep turn and pulling the freighter out from right under the nose of a TIE Interceptor that had appeared out of nowhere. "Looks like these guys have opened hunting season on us."
"As if it was any different before," Leia muttered.
"General," Han addressed the commander, "what else can we do?"
"Thrawn is attacking us with 'diggers,'" Bel Iblis said. "Sixty percent of our ships are fighting independently — and losing. We've lost contact with them, and judging by their barely responding to the Star Destroyers' salvos, the crews are fighting Dominion boarders. I'm pulling the remaining starships back. The left flank has collapsed and we're facing encirclement by the Star Destroyers. Their upgraded Victory class ships are giving us a lot of pain and gray hairs. Antilles was right — they're equal in power to the first series of Imperials. And with anti-ship missiles, they outright surpass them."
"That's wonderful that you've noticed that too," Han was just then maneuvering the ship away from one such starship, "but we're effectively losing the fleet."
"I know that, Han," Bel Iblis said bitterly. "We're trying our best to coordinate, but more and more ships are losing contact with us due to the 'diggers.' We've destroyed a lot of Dominion ships — more than in the entire campaign so far — but I'm forced to conclude that we won't defeat Thrawn at the Battle of Sluis Van. We need to pull the ships back before Thrawn plants his plasma drills on every one of them, and the New Republic loses an entire fleet with all contact to the starships lost. I don't know what boarding forces he's using, but the 'diggers' are clearly delivering something bigger and deadlier than ordinary stormtroopers to our star cruisers."
"Loss of contact," Han mumbled. "There's something to that…"
"What do you mean?" his wife asked.
"I can't quite figure out why Thrawn is only blocking long-range comms," Solo explained.
"Yes, that question bothers me too," Bel Iblis admitted. "For some reason, he's allowing our starships to coordinate their actions. Even though he has the capability to jam and block our ability to act in concert, as he's done before."
"In the past, he had a dark Jedi coordinating the fleet's forces," Leia reminded. "Now he doesn't…"
"He simply can't do it," Calrissian's tired voice came from behind Han. "By the way, your cabin heater regulator just died."
"Blast it!" Han grimaced, knowing that replacing that part of the life support system would mean taking the ship apart, almost screw by screw. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about him using control systems for the 'diggers' identical to those used at Nkllon," Lando explained. "It's a wide-frequency transmitter, remote control, similar to what's used on automated ships."
"A 'Mank' technology then?" Han realized.
"Something like that," Calrissian agreed. "Thrawn could set up jamming, allocating a single comm channel for his fleet. But that wouldn't be enough to control the plasma drills remotely. They have frequency redundancy built in for every course change, speed change, and…"
"That's it!" Leia perked up. "General Iblis, how many 'diggers' have already docked with our starships?"
"I'm not keeping a precise count," the compatriot of her husband said glumly. "But about seventy percent of our ships are already lost — either in battle or disabled by the 'diggers.' Why?"
"I have an idea how to ruin everyone's day at once," Han declared. "First and foremost — by taking away Thrawn's ability to use our ships."
"And how would you do that?" Bel Iblis asked, taken aback.
"Lando, do you know the control codes for the 'diggers'?" Han asked.
"Of course," his friend replied. "But I doubt they left them unchanged after capture. Especially since each command uses its own frequency, its own code…"
"We only need one," Solo insisted stubbornly.
"And which one would that be?" Calrissian frowned.
"Make the 'diggers' move," said the owner of the Millennium Falcon.
"Where?"
"Forward!" his wife Leia understood the idea.
"Uh…" Calrissian hesitated. "They're already docked to the ships. Where are they supposed to fly to?"
"We'd effectively disable the entire fleet," Bel Iblis declared.
"Yes, but we'd destroy the starships' control systems and not let Thrawn take the ships away," Han explained his idea with emphasis.
"Fey'lya will eat you alive for that," Leia remarked.
"Well then, let him get on a ship himself and come command," Solo snapped back. "We're trying to turn this rout into at least a 'draw' here. The Imperial-design ships are clearly lost to us anyway, but we can definitely cure Thrawn of any desire to grab our ships too. Look," Han pointed toward the Sluis Van shipyards. "Just half an hour ago, there were a hundred of our restored starships on the orbit. Including the captured destroyer Death's Head."
"Thrawn captured that one of the first," Leia reminded.
"Uh-huh," Han agreed. "Reputation and all that. But that's not the point. Take a look at what he's kept close at hand. Now there are either wrecks, or the remnants of Thrawn's force — combat ships. Almost all the transports are gone — only the destroyers, light cruisers, corvettes, strike cruisers, and carrier destroyers remain. He's pulled all his Imperial-design prizes out of the system. Now it's our ships' turn — see, the Chimaera is moving forward, and the rest of the starships are re-arranging to form a 'half-crescent' formation? They want to lock the Fourth Fleet within the perimeter boundaries with their remaining forces. Even the interdiction cruisers have jumped into hyperspace."
"Because they're superfluous here," Bel Iblis's voice came firm over the intercom. "We can't escape into hyperspace because the Star Destroyers have us in a semi-encirclement and are blocking the jump with their hulls. We have a way out through the collapsed left flank — there are only a couple of destroyers there, finishing off two Liberties and boarding the Home One. But there's space to jump."
"So Thrawn needs to hurry to wrap things up," Han concluded. "General, am I right — when you and Admiral Duplex left the system, did you call for help?"
"It's not an encrypted channel, Solo," Bel Iblis said reluctantly. "But yes. Three sector fleets are coming to our aid."
"Right," Han grinned. "I can tell you this, we called Coruscant as soon as we left the system. So I'm thinking within an hour, enough firepower will gather here that even four dozen Star Destroyers and the accompanying small fry won't be much of an obstacle. Not to mention Thrawn's crews have been in a prolonged fight — a lot of ships are damaged... I figure if we knock out those Star Cruisers, he'll bug out at the first opportunity."
"Let's hope so," Bel Iblis agreed. "Proceed. You have my approval. Use my flagship's comm station as the signal relay hub. Hopefully that'll draw those drillers away from our ships — they're too fast in a straight line, even our A-wings can barely keep up."
"That's not normal," Calrissian frowned. "Drillers don't behave like that on conventional fuel... Are you sure we should take this gamble? What if it's another one of Thrawn's traps?"
"Move," Solo told his friend. "This is an emergency. We don't have time for perfect plans."
"I don't like this," Calrissian grumbled, but he fed the data into the Falcon's comm panel regardless. "Done. Now we just—"
"Activating," Han selected the right command just as he managed to shake off a pair of persistent TIE Avengers from the freighter's tail. "General, the signal's going through!"
"Yes, we see it, we're observing... Solo, the drillers are charging forward, into the hulls of the Star Cruisers!" his compatriot exclaimed happily. "The free drillers are off course too, and — wait a minute..."
"Han!" Lando sprang from his seat and jabbed a finger at the nearest Star Cruiser, on whose surface they could see the plasma drills. "At their cutting speed, they should have burned straight through by now...!"
And then the Star Cruiser began to deform.
A massive burst of violet-crimson flame lashed out from the hole the plasma drill had made, and then from every viewport near where the drillers had latched on, an unnatural, unbearable fire poured forth.
Then a tremendous internal explosion tore the ship apart, sending the Millennium Falcon fleeing from its own destruction once again.
"The Emperor's black bones!" Lando exclaimed. "That's rhydonium!"
"Fuel?" Han gaped, working the freighter's controls frantically. "The grand admiral re-fitted the drillers with rhydonium?"
"That stuff was inside those disguised asteroids!" Leia choked out.
"Compared to that, baradium is nothing!" Calrissian clutched his head. "Han! It's a trap!"
"The Force!" Leia's voice wavered, on the verge of tears. "The fleet..."
The Fourth Fleet of the New Republic Defense Forces was dying.
It was passing out of existence in spectacular bursts of colorful explosions that tore starships apart from the inside.
One by one, they turned into flares of dark colors, lighting up the space near Sluis Van.
"This is the end," Leia whispered. "We destroyed our own fleet..."
"With our own hands," Lando slumped backward onto the deck plating, clutching his head. "I told you it was a trap, I told you..."
"We've been outplayed, but we're still alive," came Bel Iblis's dry, pain-filled voice. "To the entire New Republic fleet — fall back! Breakthrough on the left flank! Quick, before the enemy realizes we're still alive! We'll regroup with the remaining sector fleets and come back to finish him off."
Han Solo wasn't sure about that last part.