Another Fight, Another Victory

SUBMITTED BY: EN Hugo / Epsilon 1-2 / VSD Vigilant
HOLONET REGISTRATION: <TIEAce181@aol.com> 
SUBMITTED ON: 2000.06.05

                The Rebels had knowledge of only twelve of the Emperor’s Grand Admirals, but little did they know that there were more. The Grand Admirals were and still are the best of the best military commanders who were rarely, if ever, bested by their enemies. Each had their own favorite tactics, their own ways of dealing with certain problems which the Rebels, or criminal organizations such as the Black Sun posed. Times have changed, and so have the commanders of Imperial fleets, with the deaths of the Emperor, the Second Death Star, and most of the Grand Admirals. Some of the Grand Admirals were killed by trusted comrades who, driven by their own hunger for power or were part of the Rebel Alliance, proved to be less wise and more incompetent than their predecessors.

                But the attention of the Rebellion and their allies remains on the most powerful Imperial faction with the most tactful commander. Power is a force, which cannot be determined by how many ships, how much hardware, or how many weapons are possessed, although these things don’t hurt. The moral of a ship’s crew and how well they fight, and handle the stress of intense combat determines how powerful their commander is. In this case, the most powerful and dangerous commander to the Rebels has not only courageous and witty men under his command, he has the ships and weapons to back this claim up. Under his command are one Imperial class Star Destroyer, the Chimaera, twelve Victory class Star Destroyers, nine frigates, and numerous support ships, many of whom have been conscripted. But, the need has arisen that scouts be sent out in search of Rebel fleets so they may be engaged, and if they prove to be too large, to run away from. All ships but the Chimaera, Victory Star Destroyers Vigilant, Calvary, Protector, Bombard, Frigates Brahe, Antony, Isis, and numerous support craft. The first Rebel commander to see this task force of ships, and assumed this was all the force the Grand Admiral commanded has been vaporized and resides at the Corillian sector in a million pieces. His error, like so many other commanders, was assuming that a small force could be destroyed by a larger one. The tactics of a superior commander with a dozen ships could defeat an incompetent one with fifteen ships.

                Grand Admrial Dameon stood in his quarters, looking at the battle display on the wall, projected by a holo emitter. The room was sparsely filled with furniture and cleared of things he had no use of, just the way he liked it. The display, routed from the bridge, show the casualties from the previous ‘battle’. A Rebel recon X-Wing had appeared near the fleet’s location, and could not engage its hyperdrive fast enough to escape. It was preferable that Rebels be capture alive, and any information they may have been exposed to be intact.

                The captain of the VSD Vigilant had engaged the tractor beam after the small fighter had entered the system. The fighter was brought to the docking bay, and examined before Imperial technicians who attempted to capture it’s occupant alive. Without warning, the pilot, afraid of being captured or hoping somehow to escape, popped open the canopy and opened up at the technicians with a standard issue blaster. One tech took a shot in the chest, which threw him back onto the ground as the others dove for cover. Another scarlet bolt flew through the air from a stormtrooper’s blaster and hit the desperate pilot’s arm. He yelled in pain, and slumped over the edge of the cockpit, dead. Dead, not from the shot to the arm, but from the poison he had injected himself with.

                The Grand Admiral admired the courage of the Rebel, but cursed him for killing himself. He knew all too well what the Rebel had been instructed to do if captured: if capture by the enemy is not avoidable, than your life is forfeit. He had ordered all squadron leaders to inform the pilots at the beginning of the campaign that this is the code all pilots must abide to.

                He shook his head at the loss of the tech who had been one of the best at what he did; all his techs were. Technician Grawly would be sent back to his home world and family members so he could be given a proper burial. The Grand Admiral took care of his people, unlike some commanders who uselessly throw their subordinate’s lives away.

                A message came across the display in front of him that read, “It was confirmed that a distress call had been made by the Rebel pilot.” Unfortunately, recon X-Wings supported highly upgraded and incredibly powerful com units, capable of punching through most jammers.

                A small audio file was attached to the document, which would eventually be entered into the Chimaera’s main computer core. The Grand Admiral uttered a few words, and the display came up again which read, “Audio file, twenty standard seconds long, sound quality poor. Activate.” The recording began to play. “This is recon unit Enigma 641,” the pilot’s panicky breathing could be heard over the static. “The mission to the Oreaga system has failed,” he breathed a little faster, “capture is… unavoidable. Repeat, unavoidable.” Static. “There’s one hell of a task force here, and I believe it’s what we’re looking for. Send the fleet. Emergency procedure for capture will take place shortly. End transmission.”

                This pilot had gained that Admiral’s admiration, which was not an easy thing to obtain. Noble warriors and combatants were hard to find these days, and they were admired when they were. The Grand Admiral shook his head in order to clear his thoughts and think about the problem at hand. The recon pilot had made a distress call, possibly bringing a fleet with superior firepower to destroy him. With the rest of his fleet in hyperspace, scouting for the fleet this Rebel may have called to for help. He would not wait and see what kind of Rebel force he was going to deal with. He keyed in the com frequency for the bridge.

                “Captain, I believe that we may have a problem.”

                “Sir, what may that be?” The captain’s response could have been considered insubordinate, but wasn’t the Admiral.

                “Our Rebel recon pilot had time for a distress call, obviously to a fleet nearby.”

                “Shall I prepare the fleet for hyperspace, sir?” The captain asked the question, but he already knew the answer.

                “Yes, I believe that would be the best thing to do. Transmit the coordinates of our soon to be jump the rest of the ships.”

                “Very will, sir. To the glory of the Empire,” exclaimed the captain with much enthusiasm. The com unit fell silent. The Admiral was not pleased with the problems that a deceased Rebel had caused, but it must be worked around, but if that is not possible, than the problem must be destroyed.

                The Grand Admiral, quite possibly the last one in the galaxy, got up from his seat in his private quarters, and headed toward the turbo lift to join his captain on the bridge of his flag ship.

                It would seen that his arrival at the bridge had stirred up quite a lot of commotion, but that was not the case.

                “Please, captain, this is no time for a drill.” The Admiral would not stay in a sector of space that may be filled with Rebels in a short time.

                “I agree, Admiral, and that is why this is no drill! Rebel ships, lots of them, straight ahead! We may be in for a fight this time Admiral.”

                “Tell me, calmly if possible, what we’re up against and if we have a chance.”

                “Yes, sir! The Rebels have come into this system with three Mon Calamari Cruisers, two large freighters, which appear to have internal hanger bays, two Assault Frigates, heavily modified Corillian Corvettes, and a, uh, Corillian CC-7700 Frigate. The CC is powering up it’s gravity well generators. We’re stuck here Admiral.” The captain sounded calm. He had been in situations like this before, and he knew that when a Grand Admiral is in charge of the fleet, than there is a chance of surviving.

                “I believe that you are right.” He put his head in his hand, and did not say anything else for a few seconds.

                “Captain, is my flag ship ready?”

                “The Chimaera is fully at your command, Admiral.” As the captain said the proper response, the Admiral stared out of the bridge at the opposing force of Rebels. He had been in many situations like this, and he thought to himself. We may be outnumbered, but never outmatched.

                “As it should be. Tell the commanders of all TIE squadrons to execute the formation and maneuver that they were briefed in. I believe that they still remember it.” A while ago, all fighter pilots were briefed on a secret strategy, which they may use only at the command of the Admiral.

                The com officer yelled at his console, apparently speaking to all of the TIE pilots at one time. This was rarely done, but if it was intercepted and decrypted, than the Rebel’s would not understand it.

                “All Imperial fighters, it is your time for glory. Break formation and regroup in formation A-1. Good luck.”

                The Admiral, after listening to the instructions that were given to his pilots, turned to the captain. “Have all ships pointing their vertical axis toward the enemy, in order to bring the maximum amount of guns to bear at one time.” The captain complied, and the Imperial fleet was ready to do battle against a more than willing opponent.

                The situation looked, to the Rebel commander, exactly this: one ISD, four Vics, three Frigates and numerous supporting craft against his equally armed force of three Mon Calamari Cruisers, two Assault Frigates, and heavily modified support craft. He stared out at the battleships in space, his and the enemy’s.

               I don’t know how long or if we can hold out before the Lancer and Independence get here. We may not be a veteran battle group, but we can hold our own. Assured of himself as a commander and his men as soldiers, he gave the orders to engage the enemy.

                The commissioned Corvette Impervious was the first ship to engage the Rebels. This was their first time as hired soldiers for the Grand Admiral, so they did not know what orders he liked to give. So, they just engaged the enemy. They must have assigned a new gunner because at the maximum range for the laser cannon, he opened fire on the Rebel X-Wings. The elongated bolts sprung harmlessly off their shields, causing only minor interference with their targeting systems. They did not need a hotshot gunner taking pot shots at them, and they would have no more. Six fighters broke away from the main group and began their assault run against the diminutive Corvette. Two blue streaks of light emerged from the each fighter’s missile launchers. The first volley of seven torpedoes was enough to take the shields down, while the remaining six, fired after the first volley, impacted upon the ship’s hull. The midsection of the ship erupted in a gout of flame, decompressing one whole deck. The torpedoes had created an enormous hole in the side of the ship, and all the lights had gone out on the bridge and several other sections. To the X-Wings, the small Corvette was no longer a worthy target. They flew off in search of other, better prey, leaving the dead Corvette in their wake.

                The Imperial TIE fighters had regrouped in their assigned formations and had succeeded in their attack of the Rebel fighters. The first wave of TIEs, which had consisted of regular TIEs, fired mercilessly at the Rebels, taking quite a few out with the first volley of shots. Just when they were about to engage in dogfights, they broke off to the side. The Rebels, confused that the TIEs would break off so soon, pumped all their laser cannon energy to their engines, priming for the pursuit. The TIEs broke away, revealing TIE bombers and assault craft. With no laser cannon fire and little time to charge them up, they were destroyed by the green laser bolts, which were spat by the angry looking Imperial craft.

                A large portion of his fighters destroyed, the Rebel commander sat down, and put his face in his hands. Without fighter support, we don’t stand a chance. I hope that the Independence and Lancer bring fighters. The thought had entered his head that the Imperials have a commander who is a tactical genius, unlike himself, whom he had always thought of as an all right one.

                He removed his hands from his face and walked over to the view port to watch the battle, which was beginning to unfold.

                The first of the capital ships had engaged in a slugging match. The frigates Antony and Isis had chosen the Assault Frigate the Raven for their first target. The Raven was proving a more than formidable foe. Turbo laser bolts erupted from each warship’s heavy gun emplacements, which impacted upon the shields of another. The Grand Admiral, not ready to lose any ship of any size, that was his own, instructed his ship to assist the Isis and Antony.

                The Antony’s shields suddenly flickered as incoming turbo laser bolts punched a hole through them and brought them down. Armor plates vaporized and sections of the hull caught fire as more red laser bolts were shot at the shieldless frigate.

                The Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera came into range of the Rebel Assault Frigate and opened fire with all her heavy gun emplacements. The shields of the frigate buckled and collapsed as the relentless barrage of green laser bolts continued. Whole sections of the ship went dark, including the bridge, as a huge flame erupted from the ship’s mid-section. An even larger and more violent explosion and the ship was split in half. The back part of the ship, which held the engines and fuel, ignited in a brilliant fireball. crewmembers could be seen near the bridge section who had been blasted out into space and died of depressurization.

                The captain of the VSD Stalwart had exited hyperspace ahead of schedule with two other Vics. They had thoroughly completed their scouting of the Andreas system and had found something interesting. Two Rebel Assault Frigates had been sitting out in space, as if waiting for something. The captain was about to order that the crewmembers report to battle stations, but the two ships had suddenly entered hyperspace. The captain likewise engaged the hyperdrive, bringing news of the siting of two Rebel ships.

                The situation looked good for neither side. The Rebels had disabled, they somehow found it easier to disable ships that destroy them, the Victory Destroyers Bombard and Calvary, and frigates Antony and Isis. The Imperials, had dealt an equal amount of damage; one Mon Calamari Cruiser destroyed, one disabled, and an Assault Frigate destroyed. Both sides had lost quite a lot of fighters, but the Rebels lost more. The Imperial squadrons were battle hardened and had thousands of sim and actual combat time in their specific craft. The Rebel pilots, it seems, are new recruits. They had memorized maneuvers and strategies, but had never seen combat. They had no idea how the Imperial pilots would react to their maneuvers and strategies, which gave the Imperials the upper hand.

                Lieutenant Dan flew his TIE interceptor in a swerving pattern, trying to avoid laser bolts coming from a pursuing X-Wing. One of his wingmen, Ensign Hugo, was one of the newest to enter Epsilon squadron. He was assigned to the leader of the squadron because most commanding officers like to keep the newer pilots as their wingmen, as to watch over them and teach them to survive.

                Hugo kept up with his commanding officer’s maneuvers, just as a laser bolt sizzled through empty space where he had just been. His com unit crackled with the voice of his commanding officer. “Two, on my mark, high low bracket, then vape him.” Static.

                “Yes, sir,” replied Hugo, eager to prove himself. “Mark.”

                The lieutenant’s fighter rose as Hugo’s went down, confusing the rookie Rebel pilot. His hesitation was his fatal mistake. The interceptors had gone up and down, then decelerated, coming up behind him.

                Hugo had hoped for a clean kill to make him an ace, but no such luck. His first shots took out the shields of the Rebel’s fighter, while the next one struck the starboard engine. The next volley missed completely, much to Hugo’s embarrassment. He cleared his mind and focused on the task at hand. His next volley of shots hit the fighter dead on. The first few pierced the cockpit and vaporized the pilot while the next few ignited the fuel cell. The fighter jocks leveled out their fighters and had an exchange of words before entering the combat zone again.

                “You got itchy trigger fingers kid,” the Lieutenant’s voice said over the com system, “wait until you have a targeting solution before you drown him in laser bolts.”

                “I understand, sir, I really do,” sounding impatient.

                “You had better, or else next time your finger pulls the trigger without asking your brain, you could be dead in a matter of seconds. While you were firing at empty space, he sneaks up behind you and kills you.”

                Just as the Epsilon commander had finished giving the ensign some advice, two Rebel Assault Frigates, and three VSDs had entered the system and began to attack each other.

                Aboard the Assault Frigates, which had just entered the system, the turbolaser cannons thundered away, centered on a target at point blank range. Red lasers and equally red ion cannons impacted on the three VSDs shields, beckoning them to come down.

                Victory Star Destroyers do not have as many turbolaser cannons or ion cannons as Assault Frigates do, but they have many more missile launchers. Missile after missile flew and detonated on the Assault Frigate’s shields, nearly bringing them down.

                The Grand Admiral had just ordered the INT Red Claw to power up its gravity well generators, and for the ISD Chimaera to engage the two Assault Frigates Lancer and Independence so as not to lose any Victory Destroyer. The helmsman of the Chimaera did not comply, but got up from his post, wielding a heavy blaster pistol and a class A thermal detonator. The blaster was pointed at the Grand Admiral who did not appear to be frightened, which was probably annoying to the traitor.

                “Admiral, don’t you realize that the Empire has lost the Galactic battle and the war?” The Rebel saboteur said.

                Each member of the bridge crew had heard the Rebel’s ranting, but they were surprised that this was the first thing that was said.

                “You never understood, did you? The Empire’s time to rule the Galaxy ended with the death of the Emperor and the Second Death Star.” He fired a menacing shot into the ceiling, and started to laugh while the Admiral stood like a statue and wore and expression just as blank.

                “Now Admiral, your time has ended. I cannot allow you to defeat my comrades in combat. I know many of the men out there who you are killing, and I am here to put a stop to it. Good bye ‘Admiral’”.

                His finger neared the trigger, and second later, a shot could be heard throughout the bridge. It was not a regular bolt, though, because it was not the normal crimson color, nor was it the elongated shape of a normal bolt. This one was blue, and when it was shot at a being, it fried their nervous system and rendered the disabled.

                It came from behind the Rebel, from a Special Forces major, who had come to the bridge to give a status report. He would most certainly be rewarded a medal for saving the Grand Admiral’s life.

                “Thank you very much, Major. Your timing was impeccable. May I see you blaster for a moment?”

                “You’re welcome, and here, sir.” The Major threw his blaster at the Admiral, who caught it and turned the setting to kill. He then looked down at the Rebel on the ground who could not move.

                “You are very wrong Rebel saboteur. The rebuilding of the Empire and her glory began with the deaths of the Emperor and Second Death Star.” He pointed the blaster between the Rebel’s eyes, and pulled the trigger. Two guards on duty quickly came over to the dead Rebel, and picked him up. His body would never be seen again.

                “Now, let us help our comrades who will be dead if we wait any longer. We have wasted enough time sitting idle.” He then walked over the helm controls, and brought the ship in position to attack the two Assault Frigates.

                It did not take long for an ISD to take care of two damaged Assault Frigates. One of the VSDs had been severely damaged, but remained functional and the others had suffered major shield damage.

                The Rebel commander, seeing his reinforcements be destroyed, did not want to lose his life. He immediately ordered that they enter hyperspace. They were unable to do so. The INT Red Claw had activated its gravity well generators, and no ships in the surrounding area could escape into hyperspace. All that was left of his once proud fleet was his damaged Calamari Cruiser, and a few support ships. He went away from the view port, sat in the captain’s chair, and waited for the Imperials to blast him and his remaining capital ship into oblivion.

                It took a matter of minutes, but with all the Rebels either dead or captured, the crew of the Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera could relax. The bridge crew let out three cheers for the Grand Admiral who had earned the victory, although he claimed he had no more part to do with it than any other man in the fleet.

                The bridge crew settled down, and resumed their assigned duties.

                “Captain?”

                “Yes Admiral?”

                “I am going to my ready room, call me if anything comes up, although I don’t think anything will. I need a rest.” The Admiral looked weary and ready to fall asleep on the bridge.

                “Go and rest Admiral.” He then walked out of the bridge.

                Rebels make the worst commanders for fleets, he thought to himself. Stupid commanders often die, and the strong and resourceful and left. Today was nothing special, just another stupid commander who needed to be killed. Just another fight, another victory.