When the admiral opened his eyes, he greeted his first sight with a wolf's smile. "Now things are getting interesting..."

"Admiral, they're raising an interdiction field!"

Grue blinked. "They mean to keep us from running? Pah! It is they that should look to fleeing! Order all ships to abandon pursuit of the convoy and prepare to meet this new threat!"

One bridge officer - perhaps the youngest, least experienced, and thus least disciplined - made the foolish mistake of asking "Head on, sir?" with mouth agape.

Grue turned a sinister glare on the offending young man, and in a motion too fast to follow he pulled his side arm and blasted him flat on the chest. A feeble whimper escaped his lips before he fell dead.

Immediately, a man stepped up from the work pit to take his place at the command station.

"I will not abide cowardice in my fleet!" Grue snapped to his crew, who redoubled their effort in deafening silence. "We will shatter them like a mailed fist. Regroup our cruisers and frigates to form a screen as we approach, we'll circle to the left and come down on them from an angle while they reorganize from their hyperjump."

The Nyxan fleet rocketed over the burning remains of the much-reduced escort fleet, with the Thermidor simply grateful to have a chance to seal its hull breaches and put out fires from where Nyxan bomber wings had stripped its guns.

Despite the admiral's bravado, however, the Nyxans' eagerness had been curbed by the initial clash. Not all were so blind to the obvious as Grue, and the Imperial trap was a forimidible threat. Fighter and bomber wings began to sidle along the formation, sizing up the enemy interdictor.

These weren't the only level heads in the fleet, however. On the Obedience's auxiliary bridge, Ostrick pored over incoming information about the battle.

"It looks pretty grim, sir. We're being told to direct the Obedience and the heavy cruisers right for the heart of the enemy formation, but we'll be shredded by the heavy guns they're mounting - many times what that one battleship had."

Hark had become somehow more somber and serious upon the arrival of the Imperial ambush, but had said precious little. At length he tapped a signal operator's shoulder and whispered "Change of plans."

Here Hark pointed to the holographic battle map in the center of the room. "The enemy fleet is divided into two squadrons and Grue is having us go straight up the center, into the teeth of their guns and between their crossfire. I just want to make one small addition." He pointed to a seemingly-arbitrary point between the Empire and Crusade. "When we reach this point, order the heavy cruisers to break formation with us and head port. That way when the port-side squadron pulls parallel to us, we'll be pinching it between the heavy cruisers and the Obedience."

The signal operator gulped, and whispered back "Sir, I don't think you have the authority to override the admiral's orders."

Hark gave the young man a smile with all the warmth of a shark. "Perhaps not. I'll leave that decision up to you then, shall I?"

He nodded feebly in response. Hark turned sharply away and back to the battle map. Ostrick was soon at his side.

"Sir, your plan does leave us in the jaws of the enemy's two squadrons as much as it pinches one of theirs."

"The Obedience can take at least one good drubbing," Hark replied. "And if it cannot we will rob the fleet of Grue's inspired leadership, so it might be a net gain."

Ostrick shuffled his feet somewhat uncomfortably. "Um, sir? We're on the Obedience." Hark's long and unsettling gaze was all the explanation he needed. "Right, then. Anything else?"

"Yes..." Hark turned back to the map. "Let the fighters and bombers take a crack at that interdictor. They should be able to do it, too, with us distracting the main fleet firepower. But our frigates and cruisers... tell them to target their opposite number. Destroy the enemy's support ships, don't waste time trying to scratch their heavier battleships. That goes for our gunners as well, understood?"

"Yes, sir" Ostrick mumbled, trying to supress his fear.

Outside, shields ramped back up and guns were brought to bear as range tickers counted down the moments before torrential violence...



Quintar's clawed fist flew forwards to shatter the nose of the soldier before he was half out of his chair. His two compatriots did nothing but gawk as Mandalorian commandos surged from the open doorway and brought them quickly and quietly to the ground. Another security station cleared.

The shipyard had posed little challenge for the expert warriors to infiltrate. Sparsley guarded and populated, they simply weren't expecting trouble. Quintar's men were taking full advantage of the fact, and as his men dragged the unconscious bodies of the three guards to somewhere safe, Quintar himself found a secluded spot to activate his comm unit.

"Report."

"South-West corner beacon in position and primed."

"North-West corner beacon getting in to position now, be primed shortly."

"South-East corner secured, sending team back to recover beacon."

Quintar nodded. "Fetching North-East beacon now. Once in position rendezvous at point for next phase." He switched off the comm and pocketed it.

As he lead his unit out of the guard station, Quintar spotted a security camera. It was shorted out from the EMP grenade, but that wouldn't last. Sooner or later someone was going to notice them.

He just had to make sure that by that point it would be too late.

"Here they come, Sir."

General Vos stared down at the crew pit where Lieutenant Babbington, his most skilled bridge officer, was staring down at the tactical display. Vos blinked once, then stared out the viewport again. "Admiral Typton, I want the Visectus turned, superstructure facing the enemy. Have the rest of the fleet give the appearance of disorganization. We want them to hit us, leaving Admiral Desaria free to do what he does best. Have the Nebulous move to starbord, and tell Captain Bradby to get as close to us as possible without damaging either ship. Convey my confidence in him to execute the maneuver." As an aside, he muttered to himself, "It'll look like we were about to collide. Now if he'll just take the bait..."

The Curiassier cruiser Nebulous ran straight at the Visectus as the larger Star Destroyer turned to present its vulnerable superstructure to the enemy. Bradby did his job perfectly, the cruiser's shields just barely missing the Visectus's hull. To an outside observer, the maneuver would look disjointed, completely unorganized, and would give the appearance that the left flank of the Imperial fleet was under an incompetant commander.

Which was exactly what Wes wanted the enemy to think. If they slowed for a moment, turning their fleet to present their flank to Desaria, Wes knew the Grand Admiral would rip through them like a sickle through grass. And the SS commander had his own surprises in store...

As soon as the Visectus was turned enough that the hangar bay was protected, Wes said, "Admiral, give the order for all fighters to launch. Squadrons One through Four should run a quick slash against those fighters hovering around the Interdictor, then return. Squadrons Five and Six have fly patrol behind the Visectus; they'll be useful in a moment. Squadrons Seven through Ten should prepare for an attack run against their heavy cruisers."

The first six squadrons on the Visectus were composed of the SS Schutzstaffel Fighters, some of the fastest, deadliest single-pilot craft in the Imperial arsenal. Carrying six Taim and Bek laser cannons, and with greater speed than that of an A-wing, they were best suited to quick strikes, but even seperated from their formation they were quite formidable. Squadrons Seven and Eight were Hurrikane Fighter-Bombers, two-man craft that were the SS's best escort fighters. The two forward-firing laser cannons didn't pack much of a punch - no more than that of a standard TIE Fighter - but the two multi-purpose warhead launchers and the turreted SFS L-r9.8x Repeating Laser Cannon more than made up for the deficiency. Heavily armored and shielded, it was excellent for flying cover for slow bombers or capital ships.

Finally, Squadrons Nine and Ten were TIE Storm Assault Bombers. Carrying four warhead launchers, four standard laser cannons, and two twin L-r9.8x cannons, it was an arsenal all by itself. It was slow, cumbersome, and had the maneuverability of a brick, but anything crossing in front of it didn't last very long. A volley of warheads from a Storm Squadron could easily break the spine of a cruiser, and a full launch of all sixteen warheads from each craft would completely devastate even a Star Destroyer.

And the Visectus carried two squadrons of them.

Wes smiled. Most naval officers still tended to think that the future was in big ships. He knew better. The battles at Yavin and Endor, so long ago, had proven that the single-pilot fighter would dominate battles for years to come; even the advent of point-defense cannons had not changed that. And so his big ships, the Star Destroyers and cruisers, had become little more than transport and cover fire for those fighters, who would execute the majority of assaults.

Of course, if it came down to it, Wes would send his big ships into a fight. But it was rare that such action was necessary. A capital ship's turbolasers couldn't track a fighter, and even their quad cannons had trouble. And if used right, the fighters would always be able to seriously soften the enemy before Wes had to risk his big ships. It had not failed him yet.

To starbord, he saw the six Schutzstaffel squadrons blast through the enemy formations headed for the Interdictor, sowing confusion and death with their cannons. Turning swiftly, they made a second pass through the fighters just as the formation was re-organizing, then they pushed their throttles to maximum and raced for the Visectus.

Alright, Wes said to himself. Take the bait.

The void of space was said to be silent. Many believed that sound would not carry into the never ending blackness, and for the most part, science had proved them right - insofar as a ship jumping to hyperspace in the darkness. But in the midst of battle, where the hulls of ships formed barriers that served as sonic reflectors, sailors - not scientists - knew the truth. Great salvoes aimed by hundreds of guns in hundreds of ships firing at distant targets created a terrible din as glorious as it was horrifying.

Of course, that was once battle was joined. Such engagements were not stumbled into. Distances had to be calculated, ranges set, and weapons calibrated. No amount of computer power nor squeaking droids could verify that data without ranging shots, oft lonely blasts sent into the stars as heralds of coming terror.

So too was it between the Crusader ships and the Imperials who presumed themselves masters of a contested field. The latter approached and sent off a shot here and there, following to the letter the first sentence of the first page of any manual of naval combat printed in any language. When the droids twittered away the successful ful calibration of energy weapons, the full might of Imperial arms was brought to bear. The lonely ranging shots were joined by the bright light of a thousand tubes firing as one.

The flashes brightened the bridge windows which automatically tinted as designed. Even then, Grand Admiral Desaria squinted as the first salvo was loosed. Crusader ships, rushing with blind rage at the interlopers were overwhelmed by such a fiercesome display, entire ships vaporized as shields buckled and hulls liquified. Red dots blinked off on tactical displays in a momentary, signal victory.

But all was not one sided. The Crusaders were vengeful, but not stupid. Their missiles and lasers spoke with increasing vigor, laying low some smaller craft and dimming the shields on the wedge shaped destroyers.

" Enemy fighters and assault ships are attempting to overwhelm the Interdictor's screen," reported a black-clad SS man from somewhere behind the Grand Admiral. He merely nodded, watching the tactical display to his right. The situation was not dire, but it was also far from a set-match. The enemy commander was concentrating his forces, and thinking clearly.

" And the enemy heavy ships?"

" Crusader battleships are turning towards us, Sir."

Baron Desaria nodded to no one in particular. This was an engagement fighting against superior numbers of enemy craft; tactical flair and typical Imperial brute force would have to be skillfully woven together to form a tapestry displaying an Imperial victory. The answer as quite simple.

" Broadcast to Oberstgruppenfuhrer Vos with my compliments," the Baron intonded, reverting to his native Kuati as he always did when speaking SS ranks. " You are to assume command of all fast ships of the formation - protect the Interdictor, screen the withdrawing convoy ships, and draw off the Crusader light craft; dispatch them in detail at your discretion. I am assuming command of all battleships and fight our opposite numbers."

As the Grand Admiral watched the crusader hips approach, something caught his eye. Here a cruiser was bunching with another, a frigate with them, and so on. The redeployment as they moved to pounce looked insignificant, but it was far from it. Heaving himself from his chair, the Empire's most famed aristocrat let himself smile for the first time since he stepped onto a warship that crawled with SS men.

It seems the enemy commander is of a like mind. The little ships can play with each other while the queens of battle decide this engagement. As it was meant to be, ships of the line in glorious combat.

Another salvo shot away from the two Imperial squadrons as individual ships acknowledged the given orders. The Crusade was done with the easy time it had had - now it had locked horns with less tame fare.

When Grue saw the rolling belly of the Visectus bared, he practically licked his lips in bloody anticipation. "The enemy commander is a fool! Pounce upon their weakness! I demand all guns be turned upon that enemy Star Destroyer!"

The thunderous reverberation of impacts felt through the hull shook Grue around and caused him to cackle uncontrollably, making his command crew more than a little uncomfortable. As he watched, laser and missile fire flew in thick torrents towards the closing formations, with proud destroyers and battleships lining up to run each other through.

"This is warfare! This is glory!" Grue howled, hammering at his arm rests as they flew. "Kill them! Kill them all!"

Several decks below, a far more rational examination of the battle was taking place. Ostrick and Hark stood either side of the holographic battle map, glancing upwards every so often to look out of the bridge's window. The two could feel the ship beneath their feet shudder as it began to change course, bearing down on the Visectus. Ostrick cursed under his breath.

"The bloody fool's going into an obvious trap," the captain muttered. "No Imperial commander would muck up such a simple maneavure, and the Imperial guns are just lining up for us to take a swing at it."

Hark, however, gave only a grim little smile. "No, it's perfect." When the captain gave him a confused look, he replied "We're already tricking one fool into thinking he controls the battle, why not trick two?"

Ostrick made no move, so Hark turned towards the window and gave a broad gesture towards the oncoming enemy fleet. "Let's give them their grand battle, it's a war for destroyers and ships of the line anyways. That will keep their eye fixed here, on us, while we go about the real business of wiping out their support and fighters. Keep the heavy cruisers on course, they will pass on the outside of the enemy Star Destroy and be able to use it as cover from the enemy fleet's guns.

"We, on the other hand, will roll our own belly towards this Visectus, thus covering our own fleet with the top of the vessel - and allow us to trade mangificent, showy broadsides with the great Imperial destroyers, exactly as in their dreams."

There was a slight shudder of uncertainty through the bridge as the meaning of the order was digested. "And what of the... smaller craft, sir?"

"Let them go out and play," said Hark, who then pointed to the heavy cruiser formation. "That is, until we've finished our pass of the Visectus. Then, break off the heavy cruiser wing and have them bring their weight down on the enemy frigates and light cruisers. Smash their anti-fighter and bomber reserves and our objectives will be achieved."

The Nyxan fleet began to follow its orders, closing at last the ordnance-laden space between the two fleets. As the Obedience ran up alongside the belly of the Visectus, it too rolled to one side so that they ran underside to underside and traded a paltry handful of shots. Instead, the topside of the Obedience was free to trade terrifying salvos of fire with the Imperial fleet proper. A terrifying rain of heavy turbolaser fire shattered shields and armoured bulkheads on either side.

As this contest of fire got underway, the heavy cruiser contingent running along the far side of the Visectus had its own short but brutal engagement with the topside of the enemy Star Destroyer. Keeping their deflectors topped up with weapons energy and directed in one direction, very little was actually achieved in the flashy flybye. The moment they were clear, however, they didn't opt to turn back into another run but instead broke off towards where the two fleet's support ships were scrapping.

In the shadow of the titanic conflict, Nyxan and Imperial frigates, interdictors corvettes, fighters, and bombers all swarmed in a pent-up ball of fury. Imperial fighters blasted Nyxan bombers, only for Nyxan corvettes to blow up Imperial fighters, Imperial frigates to blow up Nyxan corvettes, and Nyxan bombers to smash Imperial frigates. It was a sort of savage circle of life, rock-paper-scissors with the lives of thousands of young men.

Into this disorganized mess fell a half-dozen heavy cruisers, upsetting the balance of power with their thunderous turbolaser barrages that quickly set about wrecking Imperial frigates and corvettes. They had but scant moments before an Imperial destroyer noticed their disengagement from the major clash between flagships, but these moments were put to ruinous good use killing scores of Imperial servicemen by blasting apart the smaller vessels.

Nyxan fighters and bombers, relieved by sudden buoy of support, redoubled their efforts against the superior but suddenly pressured Imperial pilots. The fight would be a short (but bloody) one if aide was not quickly secured...



Elsewhere in the galaxy, Quintar's team had just about finished their operation. Quintar himself checked his wrist-bound computer for the status of the beacons. The last one turned green, meaning his teams had succeeded.

Not that he'd had any doubt, the canny Yinchorri mused as he looked around the North East objective. Two common labourers in Imperial clothing lay unconscious and bound in the middle of the floor, while a blood trail leading to an evacuation chute explained away the third. Regret was the last thing from the hardened warrior's mind, but he was still somewhat disappointed he had failed to catch that last one unawares.

Unlike the station, whose dwindling conscious population was even now unaware of their actions. Just one more stop.

The two mandalorian warriors accompanying him - two men in blood-flecked and chipped power armour, assault rifles couched in professional hands - came running up from either side. "The beacons are all in position."

Quintar nodded, and lifted his comm up to his reptilian lips. "Next phase of the operation commencing. Rendezvous under beta point, stealth is still a priority. No more calls until all teams accounted for. Move out."

With those simple orders, the three warriors began to slink through the dim and darkening halls of the orbital shipyards, careful to sweep halls and backtrack through known safe zones even if it took them out of their way. If the guards were alerted at this late stage, Quintar knew the success of the mission could be at risk. Only the patient hunter would catch its prey.

As if on cue his sharpened senses pricked at a faint sound far ahead of them. Quintar gestured for his fellow warriors to take cover and with incredible care they did so, concealing themselves in alcoves along the wall.

The sound grew louder, until an old Imperial engineer passed through the intersection they were near and headed off towards the station's primary turbolift - their objective. When he was out of hearing range, one of the mandalorian warriors whispered to Quintar "Should we comm ahead to warn the others?"

Quintar shook his head slowly and began to advance down the corridor. "Professionals would know what to do. The mission will not be compromised."

There was no scream - screaming would have meant failure - but after a few more moments, when no noise was heard or alarm sounded, Quintar allowed himself a small, cruel smile. He only worked with professionals.

The Nyxian battleship flowed slowly past, bringing only a few guns to bear on the seemingly inept Visectus. But all was never as it seemed.

The Visectus continued to roll.

After only a brief halt with its belly facing the enemy fleet, the Imperial Star Destroyer slewed sideways and rolled further, bringing nearly seventy-five percent of its guns to bear on the Nyxian ship's relatively unarmed underbelly. It opened up with a full volley, then continued firing with everything even as the roll continued and the great ship finally presented its superstructure to the enemy ship.

And that wasn't all.

The Curiassier Cruiser Nebulous, transferred to the Visectus squadron for this engagement, was in the perfect position to open up on the enemy ship with a full broadside as the Visectus moved out of its way. The shots caught the same area of shielding that the shots from the Visectus did, further weakening and even knocking them out in places.

And still the Imperial SS was not done. For out from behind the two ships raced the Eternal Advanced Star Destroyer Reign of Fire.

The EASD has always been an underrated ship. Classed somewhere between a ship of the line and a cruiser, it is slow and only lightly armed, at least in the traditional way. It truly fits neither class, but is rather a hybrid of both. And so when considering the ship, many Imperial commanders ignore it in favor of larger, stronger ships.

But such commanders forget that the EASD's weaknesses are also its strength.

For the strength of an Eternal is that the enemy underestimates it as well.

Only a third the size of an Imperator Star Destroyer, the Eternal is rarely considered a threat to the main ships of the line. But that is because they've never met the Eternal up close.

For within a two-kilometer range, the Eternal is deadly.

Armed with six of the deadly Disruptor Batteries, an EASD is capable of completely destroying an enemy ship when their shields are down if it can get close enough. Packing nearly three times the punch of a traditional heavy turbolaser, the Disrupter Battery is a strictly short-range weapon. But within that range it can tear up ship armor like it is nothing but paper. Combined with the twenty turbolaser batteries and the eight proton torpedo clusters, it is a very formidable foe.

And the Reign of Fire was well within that two-kilometer range.

The first blasts from the disrupters finished off what was left of the ventral shields. The following proton torpedo volley slammed into the underside of the ship, accompanied by a new round of turbolaser fire from all three ships. The second Disrupter volley came next, ripping through the Nyxian battleship. Wes watched, smiling, as he saw portions of the ship begin to vent atmosphere and bodies.

And then the call came from Admiral Desaria. Leave this battle? Wes thought. Well, I can't disobey a direct order. But I can do some things to ensure my men survive this day...

Wes issued a series of final orders, instructing the frigates and corvettes to move forward, slowly, screening the flanks and picking off fighters and bombers as targets of opportunity. The big ships he ordered to reform, with the slightly damaged Visectus moving to the rear. Her rolling maneuver had allowed her to spread the damage of the enemy's guns out over a significant portion of the shields, and only in a few places did their shots get through. Still, the ship limped a bit, still putting on a show. Once the Visectus reached a safer position, though, it would turn and open up with its Super Turbolaser batteries, using coordinated data from the rest of the fleet to find gaps in the enemy shields.

That done, Vos turned over command of the Visectus squadron to Captain Tribek and headed for the hangar bay. If he had to transfer his flag, he was going to do so in style.











































In the cockpit of his personal TIE Schutzstaffel fighter, Wes pushed the throttle forward, accellerating the craft towards the opening that led to space and the ongoing battle. The eleven other ships of Terror Squadron, Vos's personal bodyguards and squadron when he flew. Now was such a time.


Blasting out of the hangar bay, Vos scanned nearby threats and pegged a corvette trying to move up on the left flank. "Terror Squadron, this is One. Target the corvette, take out its fighter escort - the corvette is a target of opportunity only. Besides, it's in our way."


"Affirmative, Terror One."


The twelve Schutzstaffel fighters rolled and lined up for an attack run on the corvette. The enemy fighters re-oriented themselves and came screaming towards the Imperials, but they were overmatched before the fight had even begun. Five minutes later, the corvette was heeling over, its spine broken and its entire port side aflame, and the twelve Schutzstaffels continued on their way.


Unfortunately for Wes, he did have responsibilities. As much as he would have loved to remain in his fighter, commanding from there, he had bigger responsibilities.


"Alright, Terrors, that's enough fun for now. Let's head for the Nebulous."


The fighters turned beautifully, but as they did Wes noticed a squadron of bombers heading for the Curiassier. No you don't, he thought. "Terrors, new targets, bearing point one five seven. Keep 'em off the Nebulous."


If the enemy fighters didn't stand a chance against Wes and his squadron, the slower bombers certainly didn't. Two passes in formation through the enemy, and the bomber squadron's strength was cut in half. The Terrors split into wing pairs, each selecting a target. Five minutes later, they brought their fighters safely into the Nebulous's hangar bay, and Wes immediately hopped from his fighter and made his way towards the bridge. It was time to kill some ships.