OOC:

We’re going to take a quick swing more on the traditionally imperial side of things with this one. Should be relatively short and sweet. Anyone not stationed on the Halcyon Warrior may take part through NPCs, as per usual except: A few escorting ships would be reasonable, so any SCAP (especially of smaller ships) who wants to bring their ship should PM me.

Note: Escrutiod is pronounced “Es-crew-tee-odd”.

’Escrutiod Eleven. Why are we even bothering?’ Drac wondered to himself irritably as he stood silently near the front of the bridge, hands clasped behind his back. The viewports showed nothing but the whirling brilliance of hyperspace, while the soft rustle of movement and voices kept low in routine communication blended with the steady thrum of the ship’s massive engines. The Mon Calamari breathed in deeply, habitually suppressing the slight urge to cough at the feeling of too-dry air entering his body.

The ship, newly finished with repairs after the successful defense of Belgaroth, was on its way to the Escrutiod system on a shakedown mission. The mission would be an easy one- the enemy force involved was paltry compared to the ImpStar Deuce’s massive firepower. A group of terrorists, self-styled ‘rebels’ calling themselves the Proto-Republicans, had taken up residence on the eleventh of twenty eight planets in the overcrowded system. At first nobody had cared. After all, Escrutiod barely even merited a system name. There were no habitable planets and no significant mineral deposits since the system had been strip mined a thousand years before. No economic value resided there at all. The place’s only redeeming feature, even from a military standpoint, was that the twenty eight planets and hundred some-odd moons made navigation a hellish endeavor. Any force invading the system to assault their base would have a hard time getting a good angle to exit hyperspace anywhere near Escrutiod Eleven….but, on the other hand, plotting courses to escape the system would be just as hard.

It was only when the terrorists began to ‘liberate’ Vast Imperial transports through the indiscriminate use of proton torpedoes that the Navy had taken notice. A small police action was planned to remove the irritation. But then word came in of other actions- attempts to persuade or coerce nearby habituated systems into a united and open rebellion. Well, as Commodore Atrasin had informed him, Drac would ensure that the miscreants became an example to all who might try similar stunts. The Vast Empire didn’t have quite the reputation the Old Empire had for ruthlessness in the face of opposition, but that didn’t mean they were anything resembling pushovers.

Turning around, Drac strode back to his command chair and sat down. Holoscreens popped up, informing him of the status of various problems, solutions, reports, and inspections. Ignoring most of the avalanche of information, he keyed up status reports for combat preparations. A few minutes reading brought forth a satisfied nod. The squadrons were concluding their briefings, and the first few pilots were making their way to their TIEs. Gunnery Crews gathered in clusters around their guns, studying target profiles, locations, and priority orders. In other areas Damage Control teams staged, doing final checks of equipment ranging from arc welders and vacuum suits to first aid kits.

Quiet footsteps sounded behind him and a young human male spoke, “Captain. Navigation informs me that our ETA to Escutiod is five minutes.”

“Thank you, Mr. Zail. Please inform Communications to sound battle stations when we’re two minutes out.”

“Aye, sir.”

The young man was nothing if not competent- a fact testified to by the very fact that a Petty Officer of any grade was Executive Officer aboard the Halcyon Warrior. Serpent’s appointment, chosen by Drac personally after Belgaroth, had caused quite a commotion in the fleet. Officers from SCAPs to XOs down to Wing Commanders had expressed outrage at such a choice. Drac didn’t care. Ongol had been forced to retire from combat duty due to health concerns, and now commanded the military shipyards over Belgaroth. The junior officer who’d stepped up during the battle had likewise been called away. So Drac chose the bridge officer in whom he’d seen the most promise. The SCAPs serving under him who opposed the appointment would just have to grin and bear it. Until and unless the Admiral or the Commodore overruled his choice, it would stand.

-----

Re-entry alarms clashed raucously with battle station alarms and even proximity alarms, causing Drac to wince and scowl in irritation. Serpent, again standing beside the command chair, spoke up, “Squadrons are launching in good order, sir. Shields are at 100%. Gunnery sections report all green. “

The dark skinned alien nodded, orange eyes intent on the relative maze of planets, moons, and miscellaneous rocks drifting through space, “Excellent. Inform half of our fighters to join the escorts in blocking possible escape routes. Nothing gets out alive. Have the bombers stick close to the ship and send the other half of the fighters out as a spearhead and advance force. Then have Navigation plot me the fastest route through that mess to position over Escrutoid Eleven. Gunnery is authorized to target any space debris that threatens the ship.”

“Aye, sir.” Zail saluted and quickly began to stride from station to station, rattling off orders. Meanwhile, Drac squinted slightly in concentration as he examined the obstacle course set before them, ’What are the surprises, I wonder? For surely there are some in store for us. They knew what would happen if they provoked the Vast Empire…which is why I’m wasting my time in this backwater at all: it’s unlikely they planned for an ImpStar Deuce.’

He frowned slightly, looking at the tiny ball of rock that was Escrutoid Eleven. It was barely large enough to call a planet- more of a large asteroid that had somehow managed to wrest a stable orbit from its neighbors. Reports stated that it was riddled with ancient mining tunnels, having been one of the planetoids stripped of resources centuries ago. Aside from offering that value as a base, it’s only advantage had been secrecy- a secrecy these terrorists has willingly given up.

Suddenly a junior officer in Sensors jerked and called out, “Captain! They’ve got gun emplacements on the asteroids! They’re opening fire on our starfighters as they approach.”

Another looked up from his screen, “Sir! Detecting enemy starfighter launches. Looks to be about…eight squadrons, sir. Mostly older models, incapable of hyperspace travel. I’m getting some larger ship readings as well…a Corellian Corvette…three DP-20s…and a huge bulk freighter that’s been extensively modified. I’m not sure what it was originally, but it appears to have been retrofitted as a carrier for those starfighters.”

Drac nodded, his expression clearing but still stern, “Very good. Inform the fighters to keep any enemy bombers away from the Warrior. Once we’ve approached, break off our bombers to assault their carrier and escorting ships along with some of the fighters. Navigation, I want us in firing range of that planetoid quicker than physically possible. Gunnery, prepare to fire when we’re in range.”

A chorus of Ayes rolled back to him, but the Weapons Officer stood up at his console, frowning, “Captain. Which guns? What firing pattern do you want used? And which ground targets take priority?”

The Mon Calamari looked back at him, almost expressionless, “Why, all of them, Mr. Feldunarra. I want us on them before they can escape their base, and we’re not leaving this system until the mapmakers have to rename Escrutoids Twelve through Twenty Eight.” Standing, he looked around grimly and announced, “These fools are to be made an example of. Inciting rebellion is a serious crime against the Vast Empire that will be punished. Slag the base and the planet. Slag the ships. Slag the fighters. No one gets out alive.”

Genuine anger at the terrorists mixed with more than a little personal horror and regret at the orders he’d just given. Drac showed none of the conflict outwardly, ’It must be done. If it weren’t me and the Warrior it would be Atrasin and the Duke. Force forgive us.’

OOC:

Word Count: 1340

Enemy forces are detailed in the post.

Drac hid a grimace as his stomach twisted. The Warrior was quickly nearing the insurgents’ base and would be in firing range in moments and he didn’t relish what would come next. Long practice in discipline kept his calm, even cold expression in place. It wouldn’t do for the bridge crew to see his doubts. Questioning themselves during combat would only harm effectiveness and might even get people killed. And that’s what it came down to. This was war, these insurgents had attacked the legal government he served, and he’d much rather see their twisted corpses floating in the void than those of his own men.

Serpent was managing the disposition of their escorting ships and squadrons, directing movement and containment strategy. The dark skinned Mon Calamari observed silently, noting that the young man wasn’t as smooth with it as more experienced officers typically were. But he was, of course, still learning. Given his aptitude he’d get better given time and practice. For that matter, Drac couldn’t throw many stones there himself. There were many aspects of capital ship and fleet command he didn’t fully grasp yet.

Standing, Drac strode over to the junior Sensors officer assigned as the liaison to the Weapons officers who managed the big guns. The Cerean female saluted, “Captain. Guns is requesting a target priority list for bombardment.”

Mihawk returned her salute and then regarded the holographic model of the asteroid base that rotated slowly before her. He spoke after a few moments, pointing to the relevant locations as he mentioned them, “First priority is to target the hangars there on the lower hemisphere. Once we’re through any shields they have and have disabled the hangars, direct fire to the main power generator. That should remove any remaining fighters and escape craft, as well as disable defensive guns and make destruction of the shield generator redundant.”

She nodded, “And then target their communication arrays?”

Drac shook his head, “No. We’re here to punish the insurgents and to make an example of them. They’re already broadcasting a distress signal. Let those who would swim the same currents they’ve chosen see as much of their fate as possible from their perspective too. Begin targeting the outbuildings…machine shops, barracks, storage, the shield generator, et cetera. Then give me one mass volley to take out the command center and communications. Once that’s done…slag the asteroid.”

The Cerean nodded, but her expression was uncertain. Drac put a hand on her shoulder and spoke quietly, “We’re here to make it clear what the price of committing acts of terror against the Vast Empire is. That’s all. It’s not about playing with them, but about making sure our retribution is so terrible that we don’t have to do this every month or two. If we’re successful, lives will be saved in the long run and we’ll improve the stability and safety of the Vast Empire and her citizens.”

Before she could reply, someone cried out in alarm across the bridge. Drac had turned and was moving toward the disturbance even before he’d fully registered the outcry.  Mr. Zail got there first, being closer, and swung around to stand beside the junior Communications officer in question. Neville Baurus, a human male, was unnaturally pale as he stared at his screen. Serpent glanced over to Drac, then bent slightly to examine the screen. After a moment his expression tightened and he quickly bent closer and began entering something on the keypad.

When Drac arrived a moment later, the XO nodded without looking up, “Sir. Deathriders wandered into a firing corridor of the outlying gun emplacements…we lost four. I’m routing them out of combat now and shifting Thundercap to fill the gap.”

Drac nodded curtly, then turned to face Baurus, “Petty Officer. How did this happen?”

Baurus trembled, clammy sweat breaking out on his face. He pulled at his collar, “S-sir. I…I don’t know… I gave them a fast route to come about after their last run and…I don’t know sir. I didn’t see the guns.”

“You didn’t see the guns.”

“N-no, sir.”

The Mon Cal felt his teeth grind against each other a bit, “Mr. Zail. Are all gun emplacements correctly designated on the terminal?”

Zail’s voice was professionally neutral, “Aye, Captain. Both active and neutralized gun emplacements are tagged correctly by my measure.”

Drac’s head turned slightly to one side as he continued to stare firmly at Baurus, so that only one eye faced the junior officer in body language that other Mon Cals would recognize as subtle aggression, “Explain yourself.”

Baurus began to look even more uncomfortable, if possible, and stuttered as he replied, “S-sir, I…I d-don’t…”

The Captain hissed under his breath in anger and interrupted the man, “Petty Officer, consider yourself relieved from duty and confined to quarters. I don’t have time to deal with your failure now, but rest assured that I will. And as you wait, think about the fact that four good pilots are dead because you failed to fulfill the basic parameters of your position. Dismissed.”

Baurus saluted shakily and practically fled the bridge. Drac shook his head and forced the issue from his mind and stepped back toward his command chair as Serpent seated himself at the disgraced man’s console to fill in for the minute or two it would take to summon a backup officer. He couldn’t afford to maintain his current anger at the idiot. It would be too likely to negatively impact his decision making.

Seating himself, he closed his eyes for a moment and review the battle plan step by step. Then he focused on where they were just then. Opening his eyes again, he nodded to the Chief Gunnery Officer as the Gran flagged for his attention, “Sir. We’re coming into firing range of the main guns. In range in three…two…one…we’re in range, sir.”

“Focus on initial targets…fire.”

Space around the Halcyon Warrior lit up as a seemingly solid wave of heavy turbolaser fire lashed out at the asteroid base. The rock seemed to shudder visibly as the wave broke upon it in several distinct locations. Shields flared for a moment, then fire and molten debris gushed from the impact sites and reports rolled in seconds later as the Sensors officers analyzed the results of the initial volley. The hangars were glowing craters and the rock shell around the main power generator was breached and the damaged power plant was spewing a small stream of energy out into space.

The mouths of the ImpStar Deuce’s heavy turbolasers began to glow again, preparing to rain down another volley of incandescent death.

OOC:

Word Count: 1,100

Serpent watched the bombardment of Escrutiod Eleven, pausing in his duties for a few moments as he took in the sight.  The guns of the Halcyon Warrior were as accurate as they were powerful, striking with brutal and explosive precision at their targets.

Captain Mihawk had been explicit in his orders, and the gunners of his warship had dutifully obeyed.  The hangars of the fortified rock were struck first, dying in great plumes of fire that erupted into space.  Zail watched as a few small transports tried to flee at the last second, the terrorists within engaging in a panicked and foolish flight, only to be caught in the bombardment and obliterated as they fled.  Serpent found that he had no pity for them.

He found a moment for self-analysis, in wonder of his own detachment from the slaughter.  Zail found it oddly easy, to label these people ‘enemies’ and then use that to justify watching them die.  He shielded himself in words like ‘duty’ and ‘honour’ in order to fight and kill.  Since when had been able to make such leaps of moral reasoning?  Was it a result of becoming the First Officer of the Halcyon Warrior, he wondered?  Or was it something else, such as his activities on behalf of Naval Intelligence?

And then Serpent was struck by another thought.  In his mind’s eye he saw another man wearing a grey uniform so similar to his, an older man with a dignified yet harsh face.  Zail saw this man, also casually watching the death of those he called ‘enemies’, beings who, like Serpent’s own foes, did not stand a chance against his might.

That man was Grand Moff Tarkin, and his enemies had been the people of Alderaan, Zail’s own people.  With a moment of terrible clarity, Serpent felt he understood the man responsible for the near-extinction of his people.  Was it really the same?  Had Tarkin also held close the words of ‘duty’ and ‘honour’ where others had only attributed to him the words ‘evil’ and ‘cruel’?

“Sir?” Pressed a male voice at his side, intruding on the XO’s thoughts.

“Yes, please continue,” Said Zail, pushing thoughts of his home world’s annihilation from his mind.

“We have a request for help from the Ray of Gold,” Said the Communications Officer, Jash Warnock.  “It is being hounded by a flight of Actis-Class Interceptors.”

Zail frowned.  The Ray of Gold, one of their smaller capital ship escorts, was an old Corellian Corvette.  Still, it was no way near as old as Clone Wars era fighters such as Actis Interceptors.

“How are four fighters giving the Ray of Gold trouble?” Asked Serpent, confused.

Warnock shrugged.  “Unknown, sir.”

His curiosity piqued, Zail walked over to the Navigation Station and addressed the officer there.  “Prakiri, show me the Ray of Gold,” He said to the human female sitting at her post.

“Yes, sir,” She replied, and with a delicate flick of her wrist, she brought up a hologram of the tactical situation centred on the Vast Imperial Corvette.  Together, Prakiri and Zail studied the image.  “The Interceptors are just hitting and running, using the Escrutiod System’s plethora of asteroids to prevent the Ray of Gold from tracking and hitting them.”

Serpent nodded, seeing the problems that the other ship was experiencing.  “I get the how of it,” Said the First Officer, “But not the why.  They are not actually achieving anything.  The Ray of Gold is just sitting there, unmoving, taking pot-shots at them.”

“Maybe they just want to tie her up, delay the Corvette from joining in the attack on Escrutiod Eleven?” Ventured Prakiri.

Zail shook his head, his blue eyes thoughtful.  “No, the battle is all but over.  In another couple of minutes there will be nothing left of the rebel base but debris.  If they are still in the fight it’s about something else...”  He looked long and hard at the tactical hologram.  “Enlarge out to ten klicks radius from the Ray of Gold, give me the whole engagement zone.”

The Navigation Officer dutifully zoomed out.  “What are you looking for, sir?”

Serpent looked.  “There!” He said, pointing.  “What is that?”

Prakiri glanced at the indicated area.  “Gravitational blind spot caused by a cluster of dense asteroids.”  She glanced at the XO.  “You think that there is another ship hidden out there about to ambush the Ray of Gold?”

Zail shook his head.  “No, if it was that close it would have made its move before now,” He said, sounding sure of himself.  “What’s lurking there is a recovery ship for their fighters, and the Actis flight is trying to stop the Ray of Gold from stumbling across it.”

The Navigation Officer pointed at another ship in the display.  “No, we saw their carrier, that modified Bulk Freighter we spotted on arrival in the system.”

“That is good enough for the fighters facing us, but not enough for the extra ones that launched from the base before we slagged their hangars,” Said the First Officer.  Swiftly, he turned and marched back to the Coms Station.  “Mr Warnock!  Contact the Ray of Gold and tell them to hold their position, keep sniping at those Interceptors.  Then contact a flight of our TIEs from Barsoom Squadron.  I want them to investigate a grey area on the battlefield, get the coordinates from the Navigation Station.”

“Yes, sir,” Said Warnock, and began speaking hurriedly into his headset.

Zail left him to it and turned towards the large viewport at the front of the Star Destroyer bridge.  He looked at the silent figure of Captain Mihawk standing there, seemingly lost in thought.  He wondered what was going through the mind of the Mon Cal.  Did he also regret their brutal bombardment of the rebel base?  In his mind was he also comparing himself to Imperial warlords of years gone by?

Serpent shook his mind from it and occupied himself liaising with other bridge officers.  He hoped that he had guessed right about the hidden fighter carrier, and that he had not diverted four whole fighters on a pointless chase.  A minute later, he had his answer.

“Sir!” Announced the Coms Chief.  “Barsoom Nine reports enemy contact!  A second Bulk Cruiser modified with a launch bay!”

“Good call, Mr Zail,” Said Captain Mihawk from the front of the bridge, breaking his silence.

Serpent suppressed a grin of victory.  “Mr Warnock!  Order to the Barsooms to engage!  The enemy is not recovering a single fighter today, is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Said the Chief.

Satisfied, Zail returned to his duties, and tried not to look again at the death of Escrutiod Eleven.

OOC:

1106 words.  Sorry about the double post, but I wanted to get in some of my character’s thoughts on the bombardment of the rebel base.

After Action Report:  Zail watches the attack on Escrutiod Eleven, and finds himself reminded of the destruction of his home world of Alderaan.  Taking his mind from those thoughts, he turns instead to locating a hidden terrorist carrier, and orders an attack on it before the enemy can use it to evacuate any of their doomed forces.