Note to all: It has recently come to my attention that these posts suck, therefore, over the next 2 or 3 days I will be going back and editing them.

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Setting: 3 months before Renaissance of War: Reviving the Art

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It had to be more than a mere coincidence that he was ordered to attack a target that went against his past and current principals. They wanted to test him, to see how loyal he was to the Empire. Something that would prove both his devotion and skill.

His target was Myrkr.

It should be simple. All he had to do was go in there, wipe out the smugglers, and capture Hyllard City. With a heavy cruiser, 2 light cruisers, a drop ship, and 4 support gunships it would be no problem.

Besides, what was on Myrkr? Just smugglers, fuzzy snakes, and vicious dogs. Oh, and of course those damn trees that mess up your sensors.

To his left, a chrono counted down until their exit from hyperspace. As it hit 20, the 2 Ferros he'd been assigned, the Fearable and the Formidable dropped out, backup in case he needed it.

It wasn't like the smugglers would dig up a fleet and come after him, but he had always been cautious.



Almost time to drop out. Everyone was taking a seat at his or her station. Just like good troops.

9..8...7...

Now that it had reached 10, the automatic voice countdown began. The bridge was silent, unusual for the end of a jump. That was usually when the most commotion and turmoil was.



They were all experienced troops, almost all of them had been in an engagement of some sort at some point in their careers. He had checked on that as soon as he'd stepped aboard. He was sure they were all good troops

3...2...1...

Finally, after an eternity of silence, the counter hit 0.

Ahead of the Implausible the blue/green ball of Myrkr appeared ahead of them. To their left a medium sized asteroid, the planets only Satellite, floated in the vaccum of space.

"All crew to your stations, and" he continued, "prepare for ground assault."

“Sir,” the communications officer said, a young redheaded boy, “our backup cruisers have dropped out as planned.”

“Excellent. Thank you Lieutenant.”

Few smugglers on Myrkr had the resources to afford a sensor suit capable of detecting ships in orbit without being scrambled by the high metal content of the local vegetation.



Seconds after the flotilla had dropped out of hyperspace one of his new lieutenants, a Rodian named Mek Neeth came running to give him the news.



If they were here to take out the smugglers, then doubtlessly he and his group were in danger. On the other hand, if they had come merely to take Hyllard City, perhaps taking a few of the force sensitive Vornskyr to hunt Jedi, then he and his people were in no danger.

Perhaps both.

Knowing Imperials, the faction who the ships were positively identified to now, they would probably be here to take the planet and wipe the groups out. It was rare for them to do only a half-done job. Of course, maybe this time would be an exception.

Or more likely, it wouldn't. It would be best to leave.

As he came out of deep though, he noticed that the pale-skinned Rodian was still standing over him, breathing hard after the mad dash to his office.

Finally he spoke. "Mek, get everyone packing, we’ve got to get out of here. Also, call in our friends in case we need help getting out of here,” he said, making sure to emphasize the word friends.

The Rodian just scrambled off, telling any passerby in the hallway of the order to evacuate base. Apparently, many had figured out they were leaving on their own, because they were running down the hall hurriedly, carrying personal baggage as opposed to company property to the Corellian Corvette and the other ships parked outside.

Damn it. Ah well, I guess once they figure out they won't be leaving here any faster until they pick it up as well then they'll get to work on that.

He headed to his room to gather his belongings. Getting everything packed up and onto a ship was his subordinates jobs. He just gave orders. The fact that he was often described as pompous and lazy behind his back didn't bother him, because he would rather be considered lazy than work. Besides, it was true.

The wine of Ion engines began to spread through the bunker, growing steadily louder, the pilots obviously were ready to go.


He had never been one for subtlety, and owned a great deal of possessions, everything from sculptures to pocket blasters. Mek tried to help him pack, but generally Sly tried to discourage him indirectly, not wanting the Rodians pheromone laced skin to come in contact with and damage any of his finer possessions.

This was going to take a while.
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As the Sentinel class lander floated down towards the brush, a barrage of concussion missiles and blasts from the underside swivel blasters shot down from the ship, clearing a landing pad from the dense brush below. It appeared that the troops inside were in no rush to get out, because they didn't emerge from the landers for perhaps 10 seconds after settling onto the ground.

However, when they did, they did it quickly and efficiently, securing the area around the shuttle with a cold precision only Imperial Troops had. Once they were sure the landing pad was secure, they begun unloading more sensitive equiptment, such as Speederbikes. In the distance, exploding concussion blasts could be heard as 2 or 3 other landers settled down in their chosen landing place. A number of blastershots could be heard as the newly departed troops fought of native wildlife attracted by the landing ships.

Outside and within the craft were now well over 200 troops. As it happened, one was a recent academy graduate named Shek Toller.
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There was violent turbulence as the shuttle began to descend into the hazy atmosphere of Myrkr. The few viewpoints in the cargo bay flashed as a lightning bold jumped between two nearby storm systems.

The atmosphere in the transport was a combination of anxious and nervous as opposed to the usual self-confidence of Imperial troops. Maybe it was the thunderstorm they were passing by, or maybe it was the rumored viciousness of smugglers in gunfights.

It didn't really matter. Few tried to mask their emotions, but all gave each other silence to contemplate them. Here and there someone tried to start small talk, but it never really got past the early stages since neither participant was really interested in it.



Shek Toller was on the far left on the port bench. In the center of the cavern like cargo bay sat an array of speeder bikes and a Chariot command speeder, and across from him the scout troops that would be driving them in less than twenty miniutes.

This was the first actual combat mission for many of the troops on board. They were all well trained and instilled with Imperial disciplin, but it showed. Up on the carrier vessels the unit’s veterans had ran through combat procedures and tried to get them familier with advice that could save their lives, advice that would most likely be forgotten in the heat of combat.



As the weapons on the bottom of the landing craft fired he jumped, along with many of the other recruits. Were they already under attack, were they going to die? He was on the brink of paranoia when one of his units veterans put a hand on his shoulder and said "Just hang tight, were only landing."

He didn't know why he had reacted like that. They had ran through this procedure dozens of times back at the academy. All day they had been briefed by officers back on the drop ship, but for some reason it just didn't seem to help. Well, it was better to get it out of his system now than to go through it when actually under fire.

He ran out of the craft faster than he had ever done before to see a spectacle of organized chaos. The troops veins surged with adrenaline, and the officers knew this. One to his left was actually hiding behind a landing strut to protect himself from any stray blaster bolts accidentally fired by a loose-fingered trooper.

A number of landers could be heard in the distance until a piercing whistle was relayed over his helmets radio. It wasn't enough to cause pain, but it could get your attention. This was the signal to look down at your datapad for orders. Around the camp, men began running to new places to carry out new assignments in preperation for the assault.

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The story about how Commander Zek Thula was put in charge of the ground forces is a short but confusing one. It started 15 minutes before they dropped out of hyperspace when Captain Thorton decided that Colonel Xian was a fool and unfit to command anything, and had him removed from his post by what is commonly called "the Vader Method." Both Lt. Colonel Winston and Captain Chalker were deemed unfit as well, though spared, and thus he turned to his fleet officers. Captain Mathres had to remain in orbit to command his ship, and thus Commander Zek was put in charge of the invasion forces even though he had no experience with ground warfare.



The space around his landing craft was in organized chaos as his men got ready to advance on Hyllard City. Above, he could hear the screaming ion engines of the TIE Fighters flying cover for the troops.

He stepped into the cargo bay, where a chariot command speeder was already being warmed up. He could see the pilot through its windscreen. He walked over to the entrance, and inside he could see a holoboard of imperial units in relation to the city itself, as well as the few known smuggler camps. He would concentrate the majority of his forces on those while his men assaulted Hyllard City. All the troops from his landing craft would take out the largest camp, one with an unusually large sensor suite, while the other two landing craft would take three smaller bases in the surrounding area. He fiddled with his data pad for a moment to assign the orders, using the simple touch screen assignment system, and then instructed his driver to take him outside so the troops could form up with him.

A pair of AT-ST's lumbering around the landing zones perimeter looking for wild life stopped and headed back to form up with the main group. On the ship itself swivel blasters dropped down to protect it while the troops were gone.


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The third transport, including Shek Toller, was assigned to take out the smuggling base that belonged to Mel Karrde, brother of the late Talon Karrde. His base was about 3 kilometers to the west, and the landers had no doubt been spotted. By now anything smarter than a Coalition Tree-humping snail would be loading onto ships and blasting out of there. In fact, there went one now, a streak of light in the corner of his eye. At this rate, the base would be long abandoned by the time they got there. Well, some might rather take their chances with the fleet in orbit than get a sure death on the ground, but once those ships lifted off, they weren't his business anymore.

***

But by the time they got there it wasn't abandoned. Most of the smaller craft had already entered orbit, but one large Corellian model, a HV 193 sat on the platform, technicians fumbling with its engines.

Keeping one eye on a sensor screen and one eye on the jungle, Shar Narth was keeping a close lookout for troops. She cradled her blaster rifle by her shoulder. There was no doubt in her mind the imperials would be here soon. Beside her was a ragtag squad of troops made up of everything from wookies to Aqualish. Each of them also held blaster rifles of varying quality and age, some even dating back to the clone wars.

She looked at the sensor screen again. It wouldn't be very much use, the high metal content of the plants blocked most of the reading and scrambled the rest, but it was better than nothing. From behind her came a question in a deep voice.

"See anything on there?" It was Garth, a tall, well built, black haired human. They had known each other long ago, but it was only recently that they had met again on Myrkr. To be honest, she had had a crush on him since they met.

"No, just the usual, trees and the lizards on them.

That comment got a smile out of him even though there wasn't a thing funny about it. "Well, I guess that's good news."

"Good news has been hard to come by today."

"Ain't that the truth." He sat down on a log next to the mini sensor package and she sat down beside him with a sigh.

"You know, if people just left each other alone, this galaxy would be a much better place."

"Yeah, but were not perfect. Nobody is. That's just the way things work."

She lowered her voice and said, "I know, I know. It'd just be so much nicer."

He just smile at that, but what was passing between them could not be described in words.
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It took 3 of Sly Mur's lieutenants to haul all of his baggage to the Corvette warming up outside, and each of them had to make two trips. Of course, he carried nothing, he just strutted in front of them and tried to look important. All around the group lower members were grabbing equipment and moving it to the Corellian Corvette waiting for them. It was about time they actually started getting the company property instead of their petty belongings.

He strutted up the landing ramp, still trying to look like the biggest fish in the sea and onto the command deck at the hammer shaped front of the ship. "Captain," he said, "Prepair to depart when everythings on board."
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When Shar Narth first looked at the sensor screen and saw the blip 10 meters into the jungle, at first she thought it was only a Vornskyr, but seconds later, the serenity of the situation was cut by a piercing whistle as dozens of Imperial Army troopers ran through the trees.

"Shit!" she screamed, "Run!"

All around her the well organized camp turned into chaos. To her right a couple of the soldiers returned fire to the imperials. She was to scared to do anything and just stood there looking at the Imperials. Once pointed his blaster at her, only to get cut down by a blast that narrowly missed her head from behind her.

"Come on!" Garth screamed, grabbing her arm. "I've gotta get you out of here"

She was sobbing, "My hair..."

Well, he had honestly never understood women. This must just be another one of those things.

From behind the trees came a pair of ATST's trailed by a pair of Saber class hovertanks. They opened up on the transport, sending shards of white hot metal everywhere. "Get down!" he said, throwing her out of the way of a fist sized piece of Durasteel, then picking her up like a sack of potatoes and running towards the hanger. By now the little resistance that was being put up was falling apart. They were ill prepared to begin with, and these forces were well above the magnitude they had prepared for. To his left an Anti Personnel turret was silenced by Concussion Grenades from one of the walkers.

"Garth, where are we going?"

"I don't know." In fact, he was heading for the hangers, but a quick glance told him that all the ships in the hanger were lost causes. "Shit!" He screamed as he started running towards the forest.
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Shek Tollers company left the bushes all at once, delivering a withering salvo right into them before they were even aware of their presence. The assault troops got straight to the point, targeting a few squads of soldiers that were randomly gathered around the camp. The shock attack was a spectacular success, with half the troops turning tail or getting cut down in just a few moments. Many of the remainder were frozen in place because in Shock. A few were fumbling with their weapons, but only a few were actually firing with any accuracy. Behind them, the AT STs left the foliage and began spraying the transport with fire.

Around the camp, more assault troops had left the bushes surrounding the camp, cutting off any who hoped to escape in the forests. A pair of speeder bikes shot across the clearing, using their blasters to cut down anyone who hadn't managed to find cover

His spuad ran across the clearing into the command building at the compounds center. Inside, a number of troops opened up on them with hand blasters. Around him men fell as they pulled back towards the door. Several men threw Thermal Detonators and Concussion Grenades in around the corner, and as they exploded the Imperials once again charged in, cutting down anyone still standing. All around the clearing smugglers, realizing they were beaten raised their hands to surrenders.

Inside one of the walkers accross the field, Major Hithers picked up a comlink and said into it "Mission Accomplished."
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Nearly all of Sly Murs things were loaded onto his Corellian Corvette when Imperial Stormtroopers began charging out of the bushes surrounding his camp.

"Captain!" He said, shouting and clearly overeacting, "Take off!

The pilot was shocked, "Sir, what about all the people who will be left behind?"

"Do they really matter? What matters is that I escape and if you won't fly this ship then I'll do it."

"Uh... Yes sir," he said, clearly hesitant

"Just go!"

A moment later, the Silver Eagle lifted off the Duracrete landing plantform and lumbered up towards space.



Mak Narth was overburdened with bags of Datapads when the troops emerged from the trees. He was only 50 meters from the Corvette and he started running towards it, more like waddling since he was a Whipid, but before he was half way there it slowly began lifting off the landing pad. As its throttle was pushed foward h could feel the Radiation from the sublight drives burning his skin.

With any effort to get to the craft now in vain, he dropped the satchels and began to scream and wave his arms at the craft, doing nothing but making himself a target. As half a dozen blaster bolts slammed into him, knocking him over and killing him almost instantly, he felt a sense of calmness before being swallowed up by the force.
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While the majority of the troops from orbit attacked smuggler encampments, Zek Thulas personal 3 assault shuttles were preparing to attack Hyllard City. With over 500 troops, plus 6 ATSTs and 10 Sabers, he was sure he could take the main objective. According to the briefing, the city had only a small police force no larger than a hundred men as its only resistance.

After a two-hour march they were taking positions just outside the city for the attack. The attack itself would begin when all the other forces had reported destruction of their targets.

All along the line the tension and anxiety of his men was building up. They hadn't come here for a long wait. They had come here for action. He knew what they were feeling. When he first joined the fleet he had been a pilot. It couldn't be much different than sitting in the ready room constantly, waiting to get a piece of the enemy.

Well, when he was going through it the only solution was to wait, and because he had ordered it, that was what they were going to have to do as well.
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Standing on the bridge of the Fearless , Kach Thorton looked down at the green globe that was Myrkr. He could see pillars of fire rising from what was smuggler encampments, set off by the sheer volume of firepower his men possessed.

"Captain," once of his men said, getting his attention, "We have detected a fleet of twenty decently sized freighters emerging from hyperspace. Average size is a C Medium.

He looked out at the stars a few moments before responding. "It's either a convoy or backup. Either way we need to destroy it. Move us to an intercept position."

"Yes sir" the young man said anxiously.
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Parthe Maxals had been a member of the Hyllard City Police forces for a decade before the attack. Now the force was more of a defense force, arming itself with grenades and high-powered blaster instead of Sporting Pistols and Stun Clubs. This was going to be more than a small skirmish; this would be something big.

They were already preparing. Civilian volunteers were digging entrenchment’s in the city streets. In addition to the hundred officers on the force, and 250 strong civilian militia was joining up with them. On the 4 highest buildings snipers had established positions, one at each corner of the city. They had to hold until the civilians had evacuated on ships at the spaceport. There were only 15,000 people in the city, so that wouldn't be such a daunting task, Would it?

For Garth and Shar, penetrating the Imperial lines to reach the forest had been a short but difficult struggle. The Stormtroopers around them had launched several Stun Bolts at them, but their luck hadn't run out till they reached the edge of the woods. They had been only a few meters from the edge when a Stun bolt nicked Garth, causing his lower body to go numb and making him drop Shar. Taken for dead, the two were left alone till he regained sufficient strength to crawl into the forest, dragging her behind him.

Neither one dared speak until they had crawled about twenty meters in, and even then only at a whisper. They could still hear the soldiers in the clearing shouting, and over that already loud backdrop of noise was the sound of the Hydraulics and Repulsers that propelled their walkers and speeders. For a long time they just lay there catching their breath before Shar dared speak up, only at a whisper. They either didn't notice or didn't care that they were practically on top of one another.

"Thanks... for... getting... me..." she managed to huff out, turning red from either the effort of saying it after what had just happened or from embarrassment.

"It's was nothing," he replied. He had already recovered his breath, a feat that showed he was in great physical shape.

After a few moments, they stood up, crouching close to the ground, and headed even further into the forest. Once they were sure they were safe they took a disappointing inventory: only 3 blasters, a couple of Grenades, 3 days rations in snacks, 33 credits, and the clothes on their backs.

Shar was the first to suggest anything but sitting there. “We’re not gonna get off this rock just sitting here, let’s move.”
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Since the Imperials had landed, Hyllard City had become chaotic. Some people were gathering their belongings and high tailing it to the spaceport. Others were breaking into homes and apartments to steal whatever they left behind before they left themselves.



Normally the police force would try to do something about it, but they were too busy digging trenches and making pillboxes in the expected direction of the advance.

A few volunteers on commandeered speederbikes went out to observe their movements, but only about one in three would manage to make it back without getting killed.

Parthe Maxals didn't like it. The last thing he wanted was men dying, but these scouting missions were necessary. The ones that did come back often had valuable Intel.

The majority of his force was digging in at the city’s northern edge, the direction 500 troops were reported to be advancing from. He had only 350 men, 250 untrained volunteers, and if they wanted to hold long enough for the city to be evacuated then they would have to make every little bit count. They had almost no heavy armaments, a single e-web blaster confiscated from a smuggler group years ago and never properly disposed of being the single example.

Less than five minutes ago, a single scout had come back from a sortie with after a daring run straight past the imperial column. He was the sole survivor of four, but the Intel he brought was important enough to almost justify the loss. The information he brought back was the number of vehicles traveling with the troops, which totaled up to 4 AT-ST's and 10 Saber class hovertanks. Important news certainly, but grim.

They just didn't have the firepower to deal with that. A lucky grenade might be able to take out and AT-ST's balance mechanism, but those hovertanks were practically impossible to take out with what they have. A shoulder mounted missile launcher would have no problem, but those happened to be in pretty short supply.

Instead, they were relying on cleverness. Right now he was observing a squad of sappers placing bombs in a building, so that when they were set off it would fall down towards the street beside it and crush any unlucky vehicles and infantry that happened to be there when it happened. Effective? Most likely. The problem was with this approach was they didn't have enough explosive to do more than two buildings and this was the second. The first was along the main street, a likely area for an AT-ST to come down.

In the shadow of a building not far down the street from there he once was, he realized this was going to be a hard day.
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"Captain Thorton."

"Yes Ensign?"

"The enemy fleet has just exited hyperspace. I thought you might want to know."

The Ensign was trying, he really was, but he could feel his anger somewhere deep in him. He had already know the fleet had exited hyperspace. In fact, he was looking out the forward viewports at it now. It was a rag tag job made up of about fifteen ships. The biggest one was a ship strangely reminiscent to a Mon Calimary MC40, but subtly different. Probably an upgraded passenger version. Around it were various bulk freighters and scarred warships, including an old Nebulon B. All in all he had to say that they probably outgunned his entire flotilla 1.5 to one, but he was sure the superior Imperial training would make up for it.

"Orders, sir?" the young ensign questioned.

"Yes. Launch the TIE Defender, Devil, and Interceptor squadrons. I believe we've been holding them in the hangerbays as reserves, have we not? And bring one of the TIE Fighter squadrons flying cover from the troops up from the planet to assist. As for the capital ships... I have an idea. First off, get the drop ship away from here. Send it to the other side of the planet or something. Now, what I want is for all the ships to extend forward and right of this ships, kind of a reverse flanking formation or half a "V."

"Sir, but that will allow them to concentrate both their weapons and shields towards us, allowing them to exploit their advantage in firepower. I would not..."

"It doesn't matter. Just obey."

All around the ship the frigates and light cruisers were forming to the right of the Revenge. Soon they would be in a position to charge the enemy. Charging them while outgunned in a formation that let the enemy take advantage of their firepower, most would consider it... suicide.

"Ensign." He said. "I also want you to keep the right weapon energy in reserve. Don't use it."

"But that's..."

Now he was getting angry. "Just do it," He shouted sternly.

"Uh, yes sir."

In combat, standard procedure was to transfer energy from precharged weapons that could not be brought to bare against the enemy to weapons that could in order to temporarily increase-firing rate. This would only hurt his ships, but it was a technique the pirates were bound to use. A technique that would work to his advantage.

When he brought the two Ferros on reserve in, yes, it was good he had kept left them back there, their weapons facing away from the ships over Myrkr would be dry, and the shields would be weak. An opportune moment to strike. The Ferros could probably get a few salvos off in the time it took them to even out the shields and weapons energy, which would stall them for a moment.

But his plans did not end there. While the shields were evening out all over the hull, they would be effectively weaker than they would be when the process was finished because they would still be unstable.

That was the moment his ships would unleash their reserve energy.

With these ships firing rates effectively doubled, they would be cut to pieces. Their shields wouldn't be able to stand the bombardment and would fail, giving him the advantage and all but winning it for him.

On the Bridge of the Fearless, Kach smiled the cold, twisted smile of a man who was completely in control.

As they made their way through the jungles of Myrkr, Shar and Garth realized this trip was going to be a lot harder than they had thought. The humidity made them miserably hot. Insects were everywhere buzzing around them and landing on them. Every hour or two they had to shoot an attacking Vornskr out of their way, and all this was during daylight. When night came around... Well, that was something neither wanted to think about. They both knew that was when the nocturnal carnivores were the most active.

They were slowly treading through the jungle at about five kilometers an hour. A decent pace, they supposed. If the planet hadn't been crawling with Imperials they would have simply took out their comlinks and called for a lift.

Every few minutes an early model TIE Fighter would fly over, probably being used to keep the locals in line. But every time one flew over they hid in the shrubbery. No matter what he (or she) was doing up there, they still didn't want to get caught. Every time they heard the whine of Twin Ion Engines they hid, and when they could no longer hear it they continued on.

They had been traveling about four hours when they came upon the crashed form of an older model Corellian freighter. The hull was mostly intact, and it had come down on the lower hull, leaving most systems intact. When they finally managed to hardwire through the top hatch, they discovered the crew splattered all over the cockpit and most certainly dead. Fortunately, there was no problem with the acceleration compensators. The crew had simply forgot to turn them on.

"Holy shit!" Garth Exclaimed. "We can fix this!"

They re-entered the downed shuttle and set to work.
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Off to the North there were a several decent sized explosions, each throwing a fair amount of dust up in the air. The clanking of Hydraulics and the hum of Repulserlifts could be heard as the first line of Militiamen, they had been placed at the city's edge to slow the Imperials advance, came running towards the second line. Throughout the mob were cries of "Here they come" and "Get ready to go!" Looking at the approaching swarm of volunteers, he counted about sixty of them. Slightly less than a third of those who had been placed at the first line.

"Come on, here they come!" someone called out as the militia jumped into their trenches. As if they couldn't see that.

The secondary line they had prepared was now populated by over 250 beings. At least three heads poked out of each foxhole, each clutching a blaster. Enough to hold, at least for a little while.

At the end of the main street, a little bit of white could be seen behind the shrubbery at the forests edge. A white the color of Stormtrooper armor. Doubtlessly, behind them would be hundreds of gray clad Imperial Army Troopers.

A series of excited whispers reverberated around the position. Apparently he wasn't the only one who had seen the enemies.

"Hold your fire," he ordered. "Wait for my signal."

All of a sudden, a salvo of red blaster bolts lanced out of the forest. Apparently the Imperials weren't the only ones who had been spotted.

"Hold your fire!" he yelled as several friendly blaster bolts shot off towards the enemy, giving up the location of whatever entrenchmets the Imperials hadn't spotted.

"Now you've done it," he muttered. Then, louder, he ordered, "Open Fire!"
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"Captain Thorton."

"Yes?" He replied.

"I just though you'd like to know, that ships have been detected preparing to launch from Hyllard City's spaceport."

Now this was bad. If the population escaped, there would be no one left to rule, and there really weren't too many of them to begin with. He honestly could think of no reason why his superiors wanted Myrkr taken over, other than to test him of course. There wasn't much on it unless you planned on hunting down force users, which, knowing the high command, just might be why he had been sent to take the place over.

He could send the two Fire-class Frigates to stop them. Their armament was almost entirely anti-fighter weapons, not much of a help during Capital Ship engagements, but still, he was reluctant to send any armament away from his already outgunned flotilla.



It would be best to take a sort of middle course. "Lieutenant, divert the TIE Fighter squadron in route to attack the Pirates and change it's assignment to an intercept role over Hyllard city. Also, divert the squadron flying cover for the ground troops to the same role."

"But what about the troops sir, what will support them?"

"I have an idea..."
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The Silver Eagle was rather small for a capital ship, it was only a Corvette, but as the old maxim goes, "It's not the crate, it's the man sitting in it." As far as the Pirates and Sly Mur were concerned, he was "the man sitting in it," which put him in charge of the fleet, and after the fifteen minute flight to orbit, the Corellian Corvette set itself roughly into the middle of the flotilla right as the Imperial Fleet attacking the Planet began charging towards them.

"Are they crazy?" he asked the ships pilots. "Don't we out gun them or something? I thought when we had that kind of advantage they weren't allowed to attack us.

The pilots were baffled that this man had been put in charge of the Pirate fleet. This man who had absolutely no schooling in war at all.

"Uh, sir," one said, trying to let his boss down as gently as possible, "I don't think it works like that."

"Ah well," Shar said, shrugging the pilots remark off, "Just attack and destroy them. We don't want to be tied down here longer than necessary."

Parthe Maxals ragtag force was amazingly still alive, even if just barely. But every second they held them off here was another second that the city could continue its evacuation. Seconds badly needed, since not even a fifth of the transports had been able to get off the ground, and many of those had been blocked by the Imperials.

By now, his brain and body had begun working together as one unit, subconsciously creating a process where he aimed, fired, and occasionally reloaded without any conscious though. It was from this state, that a barely audible background wine slowly began penetrating his presence. A sound he had heard before, a rather familiar one to him, actually, but one that still took him longer than it should of in his half conscious state.

But it did sink in, eventually.

"Oh shit, get down!" he screamed as one of the Sentinel landers that had been deploying troops a few hours ago buzzed overhead at tree top height, dropping Proton Bombs as it whined over him.

The line was obliterated. Bodyparts of careless officers and volunteers flew everywhere, along with fist and torso sized duracrete hunks of the road and buildings around him, by some miracle missing him.

Either smart enough or not gutsy enough to advance themselves, the Imperial troops down the block from him didn't advance, instead sending the AT-ST they had been allotted to do their dirty work. Carefully inspecting for survivors, the bipedal walker treaded forwards only when it was sure it was safe, seeing nothing but wounded men and cooling bodies in the trench line.

The distance from his line to the Imperial troops, now just beginning to emerge from their positions, was about a hundred meters. A fair run for your average human, but only ten or twelve steps for the massive machine bearing down on him.

It was on him before he knew it.

The crew were evidently shocked when they discovered him, because the walker just stopped and paused for a moment, as if frozen, before a monotonous Imperial voice began coming over its loudspeakers. Simply gibberish, at least to him, about putting his hands up and surrendering. But surrender wasn't an option.

He looked left at a large, black building, and then right at a remote with a big, red button in the center. That building was wired with explosives, and the tons of duracrete and durasteel it contained were more than enough to flatten that walker like a pancake. The only problem, if he chose to do it, was that it would crush him too.


_____________________________________

The battle was short but sweet.

Just as Kach had predicted, the Pirates, thinking they were easy meat, transferred almost all their weapon and shield energy to the side facing them and waited for them to get closer.

A hail of Proton Torpedoes greeted their waiting. It wasn't many, since only the Fearless carried Capital Grade launchers, but it did what he wanted it to do. It made them transfer whatever energy they had left in reserve to their shields, effectively leaving them with no backup plan.

Kach synchronized the launching of the Proton Torpedoes with the time he summoned the two Ferros he'd left in reserve. Thus, about the moment the torpedoes struck, the pair of Medium Cruisers reverted to realspace and moments later began blasting away at them, just as he planned.

The pirates, caught offguard, were cut to pieces between the advancing fleet and the newly arrived reinforcements. Minutes after the two flotillas collided, the debris of what had once been a ragtag fleet now occupied the void over Myrkr.

On the bridge of the Fearless, Kach smiled at his success.
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For nearly a day now Zell and Simon had been watching holovids of various engagements throughout the galaxy looking for a commander for their latest operation. But where there had once been enthusiasm in Zell the fact that their plans were finally getting off the ground there was now boredome. Hour after endless hour of watching Captains and Admirals ill fit to command turbolaser batterys, let alone small fleets, would do that to you. Sure, occasionally they'd see a rare gem of a commander who truly knew what he was doing, but so far the results were dissappointing. None of the commanders whose battles they'd seen had just what they were looking for.

Oh yes, this whole process was certainly getting to Zell, but not to Simon. Simon was just as attentive as when they had begun and working just as hard, often replaying each engagement several times to fully take in the details of it.

He had to hand it to him, the man was certainly dedicated.

Forcefully, Zell pushed his mind back to the task at hand. The engagement being shown now was one of a skirmish that had taken place over Myrkr recently, with a newly promoted Line Captain named Kach Thorton in command.

This was the fourth time Simon had watched this video, so he was overdue for a change. But when his hand moved to the holodisk players’ remote, instead of moving it onto the next one as Zell expected he returned it to the beginning to watch it once more.

Slowly the engagement flickered by. Simon was sitting there, watching it with a serious look. About halfway through, about when the two fleets met, he lifted up his datapad and pressed a few buttons to call up the young commander’s service record. Carefully he scanned each page of it, making sure he didn't miss a single detail. Then, satisfied, he leaned back into his chair and put on the expression of a man deep in though. For a few minutes there was an awkward silence which was only broken by Simons words after the short eternity: "It appears, Zell, that we have found our man."