Rebel Attack

SUBMITTED BY: EN Hugo / Epsilon 1-2 / VSD Vigilant
HOLONET REGISTRATION: <TIEAce181@aol.com> 
SUBMITTED ON: 2000.03.29

       Deep in the far reaches of space, far from any important worlds, stood the tiny outpost the Galactic Empire had designated Z-1138. The Empire had leaked certain information that a scientist named Bevel Lemilisk, the original creator of the Death Star, was being hidden there from the Rebels. They gave no hint or inclination why they let this information out into the open.

      The base's commander, Commander Joseph Hogan, was the type of man who would be expected to be leading Imperial ground troops into battle, but there was a botch on his record. Many of his family members felt morally obligated to join the Rebel Alliance. In the service of the Emperor, when one's family members defect to the enemy, all in the family are branded traitors. Joseph was lucky enough to save his life, but not his career.

      "Lt., status report," shouted Commander Joseph Hogan from the entrance to the command room. 

      "Everything seems normal, sir. Sensors report nothing unusual, and comscan has detected no transmissions from space," replied the rather young and green officer. The commander thought rather bitterly, At the height of the Empire, an officer would be an experienced specialist, not a new recruit. That's what the Empire was getting these days; new, raw, and unseasoned troops. Losses had to be made up for since the deaths of the Emperor, the Second Death Star, the Super Star Destroyer Executor, and the millions upon millions of veteran soldiers that died aboard these ships during the battle of Endor.

      "Very well Lt., carry on." The commander walked over to the weapon's officer's console and took a look. All six turbolaser cannons and twenty-four laser cannons were at one hundred percent efficiency. Each of the thirty-six TIE fighters were equipped with a shield matrix and fully functional. 

      "Excellent," thought the commander. "If the Rebels ever come for us, we will be ready." He put a smug look on his face.

      "Uh… sir, sensors report three, repeat, three unidentified freighters entering the area, and two dozen Z-95 class fighters. 

      "Arm all turbos and laser cannons and prepare the fighters for launching on my command."

      "Yes, sir," the tactical officer replied.

      Busy at his console, the main communications officer shouted into his microphone, "Unidentified ships, you have entered Imperial space. Turn around and you will not be harmed, this is you final warning." There was no reply from the incoming ships as they continued their path toward the station.

      The freighters were of incredible size; even calling them freighters was an exaggeration.

      "Pirates! Their kind is not needed, just like the cursed Rebels. Gunnery officer, let them have a salvo of turbolaser fire, then fire at will. All laser cannons target fighters and all TIEs launch." The commander rushed around the command center, giving orders and instructing the two full squads of stormtroopers at his disposal to cover all entrances and exits. Nobody gets into the station from the outside without getting a blaster bolt in the chest.

      As the weapons officer complied with the commander's orders, servos whirred, and moved the station's weapons into place. The first salvo erupted from the first two turbo cannons and hit the shields of the first oncoming ship. The second and third did likewise, but the fourth found a hole in the shielding and slammed into the hull. Metal plates vaporized and a main fuel line was hit. The freighter exploded into a giant fireball and an ever expanding could of debris. Two of the Z-95's were hit by parts of the dead ship, killing them instantly. The pirate fighters were also no match for the shielded TIEs who outmaneuvered them every time.

      Pilot Zev of Death Squadron knew that from the moment they attacked the Imperials, they were in trouble. He turned on his com unit as one of his two wingmen vaporized under his wing. He began evasive maneuvers.

      "Commander, you have to get us out of there," he screamed at the leader of their squadrons, "the Imps are slaughtering us, and I don't know how much longer I can hold ahhhhhhh!" A laser bolt hit his shield matrix, shooting out some panels in front of him. His last thoughts were of his pirate leader, who led his men into this battle to die for no reason. This thought was interrupted when a green turbolaser bolt, wider than his fighter, engulfed him and ended his life.

      The pirates, realizing they were outnumbered and had less sophisticated technology than the Imperials, decided to cut their losses, and run for hyperspace.

      Joseph Hogan appeared pleased by the performance of those under his command, and ordered all fighters back to base.

      "Losses Lt.?" he asked, still sounding pleased.

      "We suffered light losses, sir. Four TIEs were destroyed, three damaged, and one turbolaser is having trouble turning completely around. Pirate losses were heavy. Thirteen fighters destroyed, two freighters damaged and one destroyed." Everyone inside the control room let out a cheer for the losses they had inflicted upon the enemy, and even the commander had a smile.

      This is what it was like in the old days, he thought to himself. Unity and cooperation during battle, and celebration in the aftermath of the battle to savor the victory.

      The crew in the command center quieted down, and it was time for the officer on duty, to turn their consoles over to a more rested team of officers. Even Joseph began to weary, and he retired to his quarters for a long rest.

      Six hours later, the sound of the door opening awoke the commander.

      "Who goes there?" he said, struggling to see through his unadjusted eyes.

      "It's Lt. Sawman, sir. I thought you might want to come up to the control room, we have a problem."

      "Very well." He got dressed and followed the young officer into the hallway.

      "Sir, we detected a fair number of freighters that entered the system a while ago, about five ships. They halted position just outside the range of our guns, and are just sitting there. The ships are the same type the pirates used, but this time no fighter escort and no weapons." They arrived at the command center, the young officer returned to his console and got a status report.

      "Sir, they are not responding to our hails," the com officer said to the commander.

      "Have four TIE fighters do a fly-by and record as much data as possible."

      "Yes, sir"

      The Twin Ion Engines of the four designated fighters screamed to life as they propelled the fighters out of the docking bay. They soared around the freighters, their sensors absorbing as much information as possible.

      Suddenly, without warning, all five freighters ignited their engines and advanced toward the station.

      "Lt., launch al fighters, but have them stand down. The minute anything happens, open up with all the firepower we have."

      "Yes, sir."

      Again, the commander ordered the stormtroopers to cover all entrances and exits.
The five ships continued, and stopped at three kilometers from the base. Then, all hell broke loose. All five ships exploded in an extravagant fireball, and the four TIE fighters that were sent out to scout were immediately destroyed.

      As the explosion faded, dozens of tiny dots flew out from the last of the burning flames from the ships.

      Rebel fighters and assault shuttles came, locking S-foils in attack position. 

      At the command center, a sea of confusion and fear hit the crew as they desperately tried to give orders to the TIE fighters and instruct the stormtroopers to move to more strategic points in the station.

      Major Hillman was momentarily blinded by the explosion of the freighters. This is bad news if you are flying a TIE fighter. His eyes cleared, and the first thing he saw, was the swarm of Rebel fighters and assault shuttles.

      "Base, we have forty-eight repeat four eight X-Wings and Y-Wings. What do we do?" Major Hillman asked sounding agitated. 

      "Maintain course. Engage and destroy the Rebel scum. Good luck pilot," replied the station controller. 

      Hillman picked the closest target; a Y-Wing.

      "Good," he thought to himself, "these things are as slow as drunken Hutts." He rolled his fighter around, coming up from behind the Rebel. He had a slight feeling of satisfaction as his finger tightened around the trigger, and his fighter spewed four lethal bolts of energy. The first two dissipated against the shields, but the third and fourth got through. The third hit one of the two protruding engines and blew it clean off, and the fourth hit the cockpit, vaporizing the pilot.

      The Rebel fighters clearly had the upper hand, outnumbering the Imperials. The assault shuttles flew ahead of the fighters and headed toward the station.

      The turbo lasers thundered away at the assault shuttles, destroying three of the four. The fourth wove a path through the green laser fire and attached itself to the hull of the station. The soldiers inside began drilling through the armored hull to get inside. 

      In the command center, a clanking sound could be heard where the shuttle was going to burn through the hull. 

      "All stormtroopers get here now! We are being boarded!" shouted Joseph in a nervous, excited voice. The sound of clad, stormtrooper armor came closer, and stopped outside in the hallway, ready to meet the Rebels with open blasters.

      The first squad had pointed their blasters at the point where the Rebels would come, and the other squad was to stay back incase the first needed reinforcements. 

      The glow on the wall increased in intensity, and the wall suddenly exploded, shooting red-hot pieces of metal into the first few Imperial troops, who instantly died. Blaster fire from the Rebels came an instant later, cutting down even more troops, and it was time for the second squad to intervene. 

      By the time the first squad had time to return fire, nearly all of them had been killed. The last few troopers stood their ground courageously, deciding that their lives were worth a few enemy casualties. 

      The second squad appeared around the corner just in time to see the last of the Rebel troops exit the landing craft. The stormtroopers immediately opened fire on the intruders. At the beginning, there were twenty-four Rebels, and after they had decided to flee into the bowels of the ship, there were eight left. Ferreting then out would not be an easy task. 

      "Things are not looking very good, sir," a very junior officer pointed out to the commander. "Thirty-seven fighters destroyed in total, and only seventeen on them were Rebels. The turbos are shooting at them when they can, but fighters are too fast for the turbolaser targeting systems. The laser cannons are nearly all destroyed by proton torpedoes. I hate to be the one to ask, sir, but why do they bother attacking our outpost? We hold no strategic part of space, and are not a big threat." Joseph stared out at the battle screens in front of him, completely ignoring the officer's question.

      Outside the station, the battle raged on, the Imperials having only a handful of TIEs left, and all the laser cannons and one turbolaser destroyed.

      Major Gary Lucas and his seven surviving commandos had split up. He was going to a computer terminal, and his men were finding a place to hide. When he had found the target's location, he would contact them via comlink. His mind wandered as he searched on the computer screen. "The Imps weren't supposed to have shield equipped TIEs and two squads of stormtroopers. This has to be where the target is."

      He searched for a few more minutes, and suddenly, he yelled something into his comlink. At that very instant, the door to the room he was in imploded, and he received three blaster bolts in the chest. Seven Rebels left to go.

      Bevel Lemelisk sat on his work chair, wondering what all the commotion outside was about.

      "These stupid Imperials," he thought to himself, "they run these damn drills all day and night long. Next time, I think they should pay me more money to do this job." With that, he decided he had worked enough, and went to sleep.

      A Rebel commando ran through the hallways as he took a blaster bolt in the head, and falling flat on his face. The stormtroopers went after the six others who were converging on a point in the station. 

      A stormtrooper went down, and in turn, his comrades took out two more Rebel commandos. 

      The remaining four Rebels reached their target's location, and opened the door to his room. The last to enter the room received a smoking, black hole in his back. He threw up his arms and his eyes rolled back as he died.

      "Get up Lemelisk! Now!" shouted the first commando, angered at the deaths of his fellow Rebels. 

      Lemelisk awoke from his sleep and eyed the three men around him. He them arose from his bed, and at the same instant, the door opened, and five blaster bolts hit two of the three Rebels.

      The last Rebel immediately took his blaster and shot Lemelisk in the head, taking it off before he was shot. 

      In the space outside the station, all of the TIEs had been destroyed, and only two turbolasers were functional.

      Knowing somehow that their comrades on the station had died, and failed to capture their target alive, the remaining Rebel fighters prepared to blast the station into oblivion with torpedoes. 

      Suddenly, three wedged shaped ships exited hyperspace and opened fire on the fighters. Nearly half were destroyed during the first salvo, and the rest were gone when all the guns opened up on them. 

      The com officer in the command center identified the three Imperial Star Destroyers as the Aggressor, Dominator, and the Oppressor.

      "Sir, the Admiral requests that you be brought aboard his command ship, the Aggressor."

      "Very well, have a shuttle prepared."

      "Yes, sir."

      Joseph immediately left and headed toward the docking bay, fear swelling up inside him. The Empire had entrusted the life of Bevel Lemelisk, the famous engineer who created the Death Star. He would be executed if this event made it up the chain of command.

      He sat patiently through the trip to the Admiral's Star Destroyer, and while being escorted to his quarters. 

      "Greetings Commander Joseph Hogan, you have done magnificently! Your performance was superb!"

      Joseph was taken back by what the Admiral had to say. Did this mean that he could live?

      "I see your shock, commander. I am Admiral Trigit."

      "Excuse me, sir, but what is happening?"

      "The man you were sent to protect was killed by the Rebels. That much you know. What you don't know, is that the man you were sent was not in fact Lemelisk himself, only a highly trained and very expensive actor we hired. The real Bevel Lemelisk was attracting too much attention by Bothan spies, and had to be sent into hiding. He was sent to the Kuat Drive Yards, so he could still work on new ship designs, and still hide. We sent this actor here, and spread rumors in the underground that this was where he was. You see, it was carefully orchestrated, and you played your part perfectly."

      The commander sat there, absorbing all the information the Admiral was telling him while staring out through the view ports into deep space. He wondered if this meant that he could retire and start a new life. He was getting too old for this kind of job.