by Yakov Merkin
“Apologies,” Commodore Mierran replied. “There were some fighters in orbit we had to take care of. Also, we’re all the backup you’re going to get; the rest of the fleet had to urgently move to prevent Final Awakening from being deployed.”
Without the plans, what would they be able to do?
Corras shook his head. “We need evac; there are about twenty of us left, several wounded.”
“We’ve got a shuttle,” Mierran replied as Corras saw several Imperial fighters arc toward the attacking rebels.
“Hang on a moment,” the commodore added as she moved to engage the fighters.
Corras and the rest of the rebels, meanwhile, situated themselves behind cover and began to fire at the troopers emerging from the tree line with renewed energy now that help, even if only a limited amount, had arrived.
Then the shuttle, which had been providing covering fire for everyone on the ground, was hit by a pair of Imperial fighters and crashed to the ground.
“So much for that,” Corras said.
“We’re not far from the landing platforms,” said another of the rebels. “Should we try and make a run for it?”
Corras rose up from cover to take out another trooper, then turned to the Svetoran who had spoken. “Don’t see a better option. Which way?”
“This way,” the man said, pointing.
Corras opened a channel to Commodore Mierran. “Commodore, we are going to try and make for one of the landing platforms. Any cover would be very much appreciated.”
“Will do what we can,” she replied. “There are an awful lot of fighters up here.”
“Let’s go,” Corras said. “Don’t stop firing, and don’t slow down.”
He led the way, firing wildly all the time, sprinting across the grassy field. As he had unfortunately expected, they lost another few of their number in the process; a grizzled Revittan and a young Nihluran. All that mattered was getting this information out of here.
The landing platforms soon came into view, though only a single shuttle was presently sitting on a platform at the moment.
As they neared it, however, Corras saw that the enemy was ready for them, with troopers and zadir arrayed around it. The rebels’ only stroke of luck came when the Imperials didn’t immediately notice their approach, and they had time to take cover behind the various crates and equipment in an unloading area.
“No go on the shuttle,” Corras shouted over the comm amid the shouting and weapons fire surrounding them. “We can’t get to it.”
“I can try and land, get one of you out of there,” the commodore said. “Won’t be able to make more than one attempt; there’s too much going on up here.”
“Understood,” Corras replied. “Send me coordinates of where to meet you.”
As he waited for that, Corras turned to the remains of his strike team.
“Go,” said a lieutenant, the highest ranking rebel soldier left. “Take an escort, and the rest of us will hold the line, keep them off you as long as possible.”
Corras nodded; there was nothing else to discuss or argue about here. He did take the time to look all of the survivors in the eye, note both the fear and the determination there. They had all known this mission would be fraught with risk, but no one ever went into a mission expecting to die.
“It’s been an honor,” Corras said. “Reki, with me. I promise, we will get this data to command. What we have done here will not be in vain.”
The lieutenant saluted Corras, who returned the gesture, then, along with Reki, sprinted toward the location marked by the commodore.
Behind them, the sound of numerous weapons firing filled the air as the rebels did their utmost to keep the Imperials’ attention solely on them.
“Don’t look back,” he said to Reki as they ran, the sounds of battle gradually lessening. By the time they reached the rendezvous point, he could no longer hear the sounds of battle behind them.
Corras rested his hands on his knees as he caught his breath, and looked over at his last surviving companion. She had removed her helmet, and her gaze was on where the rest of the team had made their last stand.
Corras reached over and rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish things had gone better, but we all knew the risks.”
“I know,” Reki said as she turned around, tears in her eyes, “but that doesn’t make it any easier.”
What else was there to say?
Corras looked up at the furious battle overhead just in time to see another of the too few rebel fighters spiral out of view, flame pouring from its engines. They might still fail, but he would not put such thoughts into Reki’s mind too.
Then, finally, he saw it, a stinger-class fighter with rebel paint markings on it, swiftly descending. And not a moment too soon; several troopers were sprinting toward them, firing.
Corras pulled Reki to the ground, and the commodore’s fighter spun in midair to fire at the troopers. Corras couldn’t see if she’d taken them all out or just sent them running for the moment, but it didn’t really matter, so long as it gave them enough time.
The ship settled onto the ground beside them, and the commodore opened the cockpit. “I have room for one passenger to squeeze uncomfortably in here,” she said.
“Go,” Reki said to Corras. “You’re much more valuable to the rebellion.”
He wanted to agree, truly; he thought of his family, and the promise he’d made them. But then he saw the scared girl beside him, one who hadn’t committed the crimes he had, one who had so much more to live for, and the choice was easy.
“No, you go.” He pulled out the data drive with everything he had taken from the archive, as well as another, personal disk. “My usefulness is basically at an end now, and I’m done letting people die for me. Just make sure that this message gets to my family.”
Reki started to argue, but Corras placed a hand over her mouth, silencing her. “No, there’s no time to argue. Get in the ship; that’s an order.”
Reki, hands shaking, accepted the drives from him. “I will,” she said, yet more tears forming in her eyes as she also handed him her rifle. “You need this more than me now.”
Corras smiled, and patted her on the shoulder before helping her up and into the fighter, where Reki jammed herself into the small space behind the pilot’s seat.
“Commodore,” Corras said quickly, as he noticed troopers starting to approach again, “I’ve also included information on where I’ve hidden my family. Promise me that you’ll ensure their safety.”
Mierran nodded. “I will.”
As the cockpit began to close, Corras locked eyes with Reki. “Kid, Reki,” he said. “I only ask one more thing. Earn this. Make the galaxy a better place for everyone.”
She nodded, eyes wide, and then the cockpit was sealed, the fighter lifting off as the commodore flicked one last salute toward Corras.
He smiled as he watched them leave, then turned to face the oncoming troopers, who seemed hesitant, either due to their fear of another strafe or simply because his uniform gave them pause. It wouldn’t save him though, that much was certain.
For a brief moment, Corras considered tearing off the Imperial insignia, but decided against it. He would remain true to who he was till the end. One day, the Empire would become great once again, as had been his dream since he had determined he could no longer serve it in its present form.
He raised his pistol and Reki’s rifle, and fired.
The troopers reacted slowly, and he killed three of them before they began to return fire.
It wasn’t long before a shot took Corras in the leg, and hot, flaring pain sent him down to one knee as he kept firing, up until a pair of shots hit him in the chest, and he fell onto his back, heat shooting through his body. As the world darkened around him, he silently said goodbye to his family, then smiled. At least, when the time had come, he had passed the test and done the right thing.
CHAPTER 55
Keeneye had always been
better than most when it came to waiting, but when he finally received the signal to move in, it felt like it had been an eternity, and all of his pent-up tension, much of which he had not even been fully aware of, released. The enemy must have played their trick, and now it was time to bring the hammer down.
“All ships, this is Executor Keeneye. Go to battle alert and prepare to jump to hyperspace.”
Within moments, all craft reported ready, and they made the jump.
It wasn’t a very long hyperspace jump, and about a quarter hour later the fleet emerged onto the scene of the battle, at the same time that an Alliance fleet similarly held in reserve jumped in as well, though Keeneye noted that they were slightly too far back, just out of position. Fortunately, it should not negatively impact their approach in any significant way.
Keeneye drew his own forces into a tighter formation to compensate as he took stock of the situation via the tactical display. The battlefield had become extremely compressed, with large segments of both fleets engaged in close-quarters fighting, in part due to what Keeneye suspected was an attempt by the enemy to bisect the Alliance fleet.
Moments later, he received brief orders from Darkclaw. He, with the newly arrived Legion Navy forces as backup, was to flank the enemy and, of possible, move between them and the planetary shield they were using as their wall to defend from.
Keeneye acknowledged, relayed orders, and moved in.
As he did so, however, he noticed something odd on the tactical display. Several previously idle civilian stations in orbit of the planet suddenly exploded, and hundreds of small drone craft emerged and swarmed toward the shield, which lowered for a brief moment to allow them passage.
As the drones sped toward his fleet, Keeneye also saw a fairly small Imperial fleet emerge from where it had been hidden behind a moon, though somewhat strangely, they cut in between the Tyrannodon and Legion Navy fleets before moving into close range with his force.
He would be able to deal with all this, of course, but he had to give credit to the enemy commander, who was clearly making the best of a subpar situation.
As he led his people into battle, Keeneye genuinely hoped that the mysterious Sai’var survived this battle. While an enemy, he was a worthy foe, and would deserve respect and recognition even in defeat.
CHAPTER 56
“We’re running out of time,” Asharra said, eyes still closed as she did what she could to help. They were losing fighters fast, and while Sword and Shield Wings had managed to overcome the small Imperial escort fleet, it was only a matter of time before more ships arrived.
The Protector shook as the Imperial fighters attacked it directly, and Asharra opened a channel to the rest of the fleet. “We could use backup here; we’re almost through the shield, but getting overwhelmed.”
What she didn’t mention was just how close Final Awakening was to clearing the planet. It wouldn’t be long before she had to decide whether or not to order ramming speed.
“We’ve just lost the Tiral,” one of her officers announced.
Asharra gritted her teeth. That left Hammer with only five functioning ships.
“Keep firing, and get us in even closer. Full speed, do what we can to keep those fighters off of us.”
“Hang on, Protector, help is on the way” Admiral Dahar broadcast.
But would it be enough?
“Any updates on the shield status?” she asked as the ship was rocked yet again. She couldn’t keep up this link to the Shift for too much longer; already she was starting to feel lightheaded.
“Can’t tell yet—wait. It’s down; the shield is down!”
“All ships, fire everything at those engines, quickly!” Asharra ordered, opening her eyes as she felt a new rush of energy. Half her attention remained on the scene in front of her and her connection to the Shift, while the rest was on the display tracking the weapon’s progress. Even once the engines were destroyed, it could still keep going and escape the planet’s gravity well if it made it far enough.
“Ignore those fighters,” Asharra ordered as the Protector took several more hits.
“Help has arrived, Hammer,” came the voice of Dahar over the link. Asharra briefly turned to see the arrival of the rest of the fleet, then looked back at Final Awakening just as explosions began to tear through its engines.
“Don’t let up!” Asharra ordered, then switched to speak to Dahar again.
“Sir, we should begin the retreat. We can’t know if we stopped the ship in time, but there won’t be anything more we can do after we take out the engines.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea, Captain. I’ll get the process started while you finish the job.”
“Understood,” Asharra replied.
Come on, come on, she wanted to say to the explosions and her firing ships. There was nothing she could personally do now but watch.
Finally, after what felt like a few more minutes, Final Awakening’s massive engine array erupted in a brief but spectacular fireball.
The bridge of the Protector filled with cheers, but Asharra’s elation was short lived as she got a sudden, strong, very bad feeling.
“Helm, get us out of here!” she ordered as she saw segments of the rebel fleet start jumping away. The remains of Hammer wing would have to clear the planet’s gravity well first.
Then, just as the last of Shield’s capital ships and fighters moved into position to jump out, a group of ten Imperial cruisers arrived and began firing immediately. Somehow, Asharra also knew who was in command of the task force; Lord Tavas himself.
“Take evasive action, get us out of here! Now!”
The unlucky members of Shield Wing were destroyed almost immediately, and the Imperial ships closed with the Protector and the rest of Hammer Wing rapidly.
“Try and get us into orbit,” Asharra said as the first shots began to slam into their shields. “We can slingshot around and get out of the planet’s well before they catch us.”
Even as she gave the orders, however, Asharra could see the lead cruiser, the one she somehow knew carried Tavas, close with them.
“Can we get shields back?” she asked as the ship was rocked once again.
“No can do, Captain. The ship’s barely holding together as it is.”
Running was going to do them no good. But maybe she could…
“Bring us about then, and move to maximum speed,” she ordered. “Be ready to jump to hyperspace if we can get clear.” She reached out again with the Shift, and managed to just barely throw off the aim of Tavas’s ship’s first volley, which just barely missed her own.
But just as she’d feared, within moments she encountered resistance, a presence that made the woman she’d fought seem like a joke in comparison, countering her manipulations.
But Asharra maintained her focus. The front of her ship was its most heavily armored, and the shortest path to where they could jump out was through the enemy. The odds of making it would be very slim, but they were somewhat better than the odds would be if they kept running.
Asharra held tight to her command chair as the Protector spun around and headed right for the Imperial fleet. However, all she could focus on as fire began to rain down on them was the spot out there where she somehow knew Tavas stood, staring toward her in return, his presence overwhelming her completely.
The ship shuddered, and sparks began to fly throughout the bridge as they began to take serious damage, and between that and Tavas’s raw power, she lost her connection to the Shift with a gasp. They weren’t going to make it.
Asharra rushed to the aid of a crewman who was blown back as a panel overloaded, then pulled herself over to the now vacant helm station and put them on an intercept course. Maybe they could take out Tavas and make something of this disaster.
Asharra rose to her feet, but before she was able to give the order to abandon ship, the enemy command ship fired directly on the bridge.
Explosions almost immediately tore across it while at the same time de
bris was blown out through a hull breach.
Asharra stepped back and threw her left arm out in front of herself as another explosion came her way, was thrown back by the blast, and then the world went dark.
CHAPTER 57
The arrival of Keeneye’s force, as well as the additional Legion Navy reinforcements, allowed Darkclaw a very brief reprieve from micromanaging the battle as best he could. Specifically, he was able to very closely manage the forces of his close allies, which now included the Daeris and their handful of ships, while getting the others, such as the Talvostans—and to a greater degree the Legion Navy—to do what he needed was a more laborious task.
However, the important thing was that the battle went well—almost a bit too well, as far as his more cynical side was concerned.
The Revittans were certainly fighting well, but, as had been the case for some time now, Darkclaw expected more of Grand Admiral Sai’var, given both his reputation and his performance when he had first assumed command of the Imperial fleet. His forces were still holding, despite a superior Alliance fleet, and he had pulled off several clever tactics, but the Revittans were still losing, even if at a slow pace. Could it be someone else in operational command, with Sai’var himself overseeing something else? Or was something else at play, some very long game whose primary move had yet to be put into effect?
Darkclaw dispatched orders to several segments of the fleet, in order to apply yet more pressure and force Sai’var to make any moves he had left.
On the enemy’s flank, Keeneye’s force was making headway despite the enemy countermeasures, and according to scans, they had severely weakened the planetary shield. If it went down, this battle would change drastically, though how much advantage that would provide would be limited by how they chose to fight here.
As the fleet advanced further, Darkclaw made another, more specific determination. The Revittan countermeasures and tactics here were more meant to look clever and significant than they were to actually be such, with the Empire’s main goal being to draw the Alliance fleet deeper and deeper in, compress the battlefield, and drag things out. But to what end? What more could the Empire, Sai’var, be planning? Specifically, what they be planning that Darkclaw had not prepared for? Was there some sort of grand trap planned? Some superweapon they were bringing into play? No, that couldn’t be it. Their forces were now too closely engaged with Darkclaw’s own for some major weapon to be used. And while he would not have been overly surprised at an oppressive regime being willing to kill their own in order to win, from what he had learned about the grand admiral, that was something he would never sanction.
