The Hydian Way
Escort duty, though Captain Jack, was a boring and tedious duty. Hyperspace back and forth across the galaxy with a fleet of slow moving transports filled with fertilizer was nowhere near as interesting as, say, raiding the secret bases of the New Coalition and slaughtering aliens by the thousands.
With their bare hands, no doubt.
Captain Jack knew why he had been assigned to convoy duty. His last love had been Emily Greighton. Emily Greighton, wife (he had later learned) of Moff Greighton.
The Captain had escaped with his life only because the child growing in Emily's belly was his own, and the Moff could not kill the father of his next child in cold blood.
But he could strip Jack of all his honour and dignity, demote him to the lowest position in the Imperial Navy. A refresher scrubber on a Star Destroyer earned more respect than Captain Jack.
And probably saw more action, too!
The most interesting day in the last year had come when the navigator of the dillapidated piece of junk escort ship, Imperial Winds, had realized he had made an error that could well have sent the ship right into a star.
Some days, Captain Jack found himself wishing that the navigator was a little dumber, that he had no caught his mistake, and that the ship had indeed gone right into that star and never came out.
That would have solved all his problems.
"Captain, we're ready to make the jump." A voice brought him out of his daydream, and he frowned.
"Fine. Good. Let's go." He replied, distracted. He barely noticed as the ship struggled up to lightspeed and left their rendevous point behind, a convoy of Lord knows what in tow.
They were barely ten minutes into the trip, however, when something strange happened. The ship tremored, as though the hyperdrive motivators were failing.
Captain Jack looked up, in time to see the swirling tunnel of hyperspace be replaced by stars. But not just stars.
An asteroid blocked their path, so near it filled the entire viewscreen.
"Evasive manouvers!" Jack screamed, standing, and immediatly falling back into his chair as the internal compensators failed to compensate for the ship's sudden dive.
"What in the hell-"
"Sir! Ships!" The sensor officer yelled. And Jack realized that it was an ambush. That finally his wish was being realized: combat!
I wonder if I get danger pay for this.
Then the ship was shaking as turbolaser blasts hit home across the hull, and Jack realized that they were dead. They had no shields up, they had not retured fire, and the enemy was on top of them.
Dead.
"Sir! I'm detecting Imperial ships. They're... they're like nothing I've ever seen before!"
Captain Jack caught a glimpse of them before the Imperial Winds shook one last time, and blew apart.
And Jack never had to worry about danger pay again.
Escort duty, though Captain Jack, was a boring and tedious duty. Hyperspace back and forth across the galaxy with a fleet of slow moving transports filled with fertilizer was nowhere near as interesting as, say, raiding the secret bases of the New Coalition and slaughtering aliens by the thousands.
With their bare hands, no doubt.
Captain Jack knew why he had been assigned to convoy duty. His last love had been Emily Greighton. Emily Greighton, wife (he had later learned) of Moff Greighton.
The Captain had escaped with his life only because the child growing in Emily's belly was his own, and the Moff could not kill the father of his next child in cold blood.
But he could strip Jack of all his honour and dignity, demote him to the lowest position in the Imperial Navy. A refresher scrubber on a Star Destroyer earned more respect than Captain Jack.
And probably saw more action, too!
The most interesting day in the last year had come when the navigator of the dillapidated piece of junk escort ship, Imperial Winds, had realized he had made an error that could well have sent the ship right into a star.
Some days, Captain Jack found himself wishing that the navigator was a little dumber, that he had no caught his mistake, and that the ship had indeed gone right into that star and never came out.
That would have solved all his problems.
"Captain, we're ready to make the jump." A voice brought him out of his daydream, and he frowned.
"Fine. Good. Let's go." He replied, distracted. He barely noticed as the ship struggled up to lightspeed and left their rendevous point behind, a convoy of Lord knows what in tow.
They were barely ten minutes into the trip, however, when something strange happened. The ship tremored, as though the hyperdrive motivators were failing.
Captain Jack looked up, in time to see the swirling tunnel of hyperspace be replaced by stars. But not just stars.
An asteroid blocked their path, so near it filled the entire viewscreen.
"Evasive manouvers!" Jack screamed, standing, and immediatly falling back into his chair as the internal compensators failed to compensate for the ship's sudden dive.
"What in the hell-"
"Sir! Ships!" The sensor officer yelled. And Jack realized that it was an ambush. That finally his wish was being realized: combat!
I wonder if I get danger pay for this.
Then the ship was shaking as turbolaser blasts hit home across the hull, and Jack realized that they were dead. They had no shields up, they had not retured fire, and the enemy was on top of them.
Dead.
"Sir! I'm detecting Imperial ships. They're... they're like nothing I've ever seen before!"
Captain Jack caught a glimpse of them before the Imperial Winds shook one last time, and blew apart.
And Jack never had to worry about danger pay again.
* * * * *
"Are you sure they'll be there, Sir?" The young Lieutenant asked, his face eager.
"They will be there." Kyoto replied, grim. "We leaked the location two days ago. We leaked that they would be carrying valuable starfighters for the Borderland last week. They will not pass up an offer like that."
"What if they strike somewhere else, Sir?"
"They won't." The Admiral responded easily.
"Helm, prepare to jump on my mark." The timing would have to be exceptional here. The pirates were known to be efficient - very efficient. And they had to hit them while they were dealing with the convoy escort, so that they would not have time to turn their guns on the transports.
Grand Moff Drayson would not be happy if those TIEs were lost.
Sensors: "Contact, Sir!"
"Helm, make the jump. Mark."
The ship, and its escorts, jumped. Seconds later they emerged from hyperspace, dragged out by the same asteroid that had stopped the convoy. A natural interdictor.
"We just lost Imperial Winds." Sensors reported emotionlessly. "Pirates see us, they're running."
No surprise, really. The enemy's pair of Corellian Corvettes and singular Strike cruiser were no match for the Imperial group - and far to valuable to waste in combat with a more powerful foe.
"Gunnery, launch mines in their path."
The order was relayed, and soon space was filled with the gravity shadows of interdictor mines, preventing the enemy fleet from reaching hyperspace.
With their asteroid blocking their path, their only escape was through the Imperial group.
"Fighters, Sir?"
"No. We'll deal with them ourselves. Shields to full, guns on."
The Imperial group was new, and this was its first test. The Cayman class Cruiser, resembling some mad scientists recreation of a Nebulon B Escort Frigate, was the largest ship present at just over 500 meters. It's escorts, of similar design, were nearly half that length.
All were deadly.
Guns: "Turbolaser control reports heavy canons armed and ready. Targets in range."
A show of power, then.
"Target the leading Corvette. Full power. Fire when ready."
A moment passed, and the fleets got nearer. Well outside conventional turbolaser range, the SH-F canons fired.
There was a brief flash of light, and when it had cleared the lead enemy Corvette was gone.
The pirate fleet slowed, clearly unnerved at this demonstration of sheer power. The Strike Cruiser began to turn, but by this time it was to late, and the Imperial group was entering turbolaser range.
The Cayman began to fire its forward guns, but it was the two smaller Tiburon Frigates that shone, moving forward and opening fire with their heavy guns.
The Strike cruiser realised that flight was useless and turned back to fight, and light began to fill the space between the two groups.
"Ready missile volley one." Kyoto ordered. "Target the enemy Strike cruiser. Fire."
The proton torpedo cluster fired, all of its warheads lancing out in consecutive waves and smashing into the hull of the opposing ship.
It's side disapeared, engulfed in flame, and the Tiburons poured fire into the gap, enulfing the enemy ship. Moments later it was little more than a hulk, drifting through space, utterly spent.
The remaining enemy Corvette had managed to avoid the worst of the battle, and was turning now to run. It was significantly faster than the larger Imperial ships, and given a lead it could well get out of their gunnery range.
But not out of range of the interceptors.
From the flight deck of the Cayman now came a flight of small gunboats, and a squadron of TIE-2s. They quickly caught up to the fleeing enemy Corvette and opened fire, pounding through shields and slagging the engine compartment. Out of control, the Corvette began a slow curve back in the direction of the Imperial group.
It broadcast its surrender shortly thereafter. Once in range, it was destroyed by concentrated fire of the Tiburon's heavy guns.
"They will be there." Kyoto replied, grim. "We leaked the location two days ago. We leaked that they would be carrying valuable starfighters for the Borderland last week. They will not pass up an offer like that."
"What if they strike somewhere else, Sir?"
"They won't." The Admiral responded easily.
"Helm, prepare to jump on my mark." The timing would have to be exceptional here. The pirates were known to be efficient - very efficient. And they had to hit them while they were dealing with the convoy escort, so that they would not have time to turn their guns on the transports.
Grand Moff Drayson would not be happy if those TIEs were lost.
Sensors: "Contact, Sir!"
"Helm, make the jump. Mark."
The ship, and its escorts, jumped. Seconds later they emerged from hyperspace, dragged out by the same asteroid that had stopped the convoy. A natural interdictor.
"We just lost Imperial Winds." Sensors reported emotionlessly. "Pirates see us, they're running."
No surprise, really. The enemy's pair of Corellian Corvettes and singular Strike cruiser were no match for the Imperial group - and far to valuable to waste in combat with a more powerful foe.
"Gunnery, launch mines in their path."
The order was relayed, and soon space was filled with the gravity shadows of interdictor mines, preventing the enemy fleet from reaching hyperspace.
With their asteroid blocking their path, their only escape was through the Imperial group.
"Fighters, Sir?"
"No. We'll deal with them ourselves. Shields to full, guns on."
The Imperial group was new, and this was its first test. The Cayman class Cruiser, resembling some mad scientists recreation of a Nebulon B Escort Frigate, was the largest ship present at just over 500 meters. It's escorts, of similar design, were nearly half that length.
All were deadly.
Guns: "Turbolaser control reports heavy canons armed and ready. Targets in range."
A show of power, then.
"Target the leading Corvette. Full power. Fire when ready."
A moment passed, and the fleets got nearer. Well outside conventional turbolaser range, the SH-F canons fired.
There was a brief flash of light, and when it had cleared the lead enemy Corvette was gone.
The pirate fleet slowed, clearly unnerved at this demonstration of sheer power. The Strike Cruiser began to turn, but by this time it was to late, and the Imperial group was entering turbolaser range.
The Cayman began to fire its forward guns, but it was the two smaller Tiburon Frigates that shone, moving forward and opening fire with their heavy guns.
The Strike cruiser realised that flight was useless and turned back to fight, and light began to fill the space between the two groups.
"Ready missile volley one." Kyoto ordered. "Target the enemy Strike cruiser. Fire."
The proton torpedo cluster fired, all of its warheads lancing out in consecutive waves and smashing into the hull of the opposing ship.
It's side disapeared, engulfed in flame, and the Tiburons poured fire into the gap, enulfing the enemy ship. Moments later it was little more than a hulk, drifting through space, utterly spent.
The remaining enemy Corvette had managed to avoid the worst of the battle, and was turning now to run. It was significantly faster than the larger Imperial ships, and given a lead it could well get out of their gunnery range.
But not out of range of the interceptors.
From the flight deck of the Cayman now came a flight of small gunboats, and a squadron of TIE-2s. They quickly caught up to the fleeing enemy Corvette and opened fire, pounding through shields and slagging the engine compartment. Out of control, the Corvette began a slow curve back in the direction of the Imperial group.
It broadcast its surrender shortly thereafter. Once in range, it was destroyed by concentrated fire of the Tiburon's heavy guns.