“Captain D’Foose reports that the Nebulon-G it out of the fight.”

“Let’s keep that way. Redirect Steadfast Quads to sector-one-five-two.”

While the Colonial forces were primarily dealing with the destroyer, the Kashan vessels had shifted the majority of their firepower on the small corvettes, the DP-20, better known as the Corellian Gunship, and the Marauder-class Corvette.

Still some firepower from the Seraphs continued to pour out on the Neb-G. A series of blue darts from the Steadfast and struck the Nebulon-G, sending waves of cyan lightning across the two split pieces of hull. Inside, circuits were fried, making the vessel helpless to the join Gestalt-Kashan Fleet. Corise grimaced at the split of the ship; that will take some repairing.

“It’s been disabled.”

He refocused his attention on the struggling corvettes, who had been held in place by the tractor beam projectors. The Commodore had been rather wary about using the turbolasers, as if a single bolt through the shields would cause serious damage. Instead, trying to keep the vessels mostly intact, he had only used the Quad Ion Cannons to accurately disable enemy subsystems, like the shield generators or weapon’s turret. By surgically disabling the warships, he hoped to get them back in service with a minimum of repair.

His tactical officer raised his voice. “Sir, we might want to cover the Colonial forces, they’re reloading and such.”

“Very good. Make it so.”

Corise glanced at the tactics board as the DP-20 succumbed to a final set of ion bolts. Looking at the tactical board, he wasn’t sure what exactly the Colonial needed covering from. Possibly the enemy starfighters, but those things are being dominated already. Piratical craft tended to be older and consequently less effective than most starfighters employed by high-tech factions, such as the Gestalt Colonies and Kashan. Thus, the Deathsabers began to shoot their way through the enemy ranks, sending streams of the distinctive Kashan emerald bolts into the enemy ships. Occasionally, a Deathsaber would acquire multiple starfighters and launch all of their missiles at them. The result was typically a massive explosion that disintegrated the small ships.

“The Marauder has been disable sir.”

The Commodore nodded. “On to bigger and better things then. Tactics, you can begin the plan.”

A problem with their scenario was that the asteroids constricted their movement in such a manner that there was only one direct path to the enemy Dauntless. That in turn was barely large enough for all three Coalition vessels to enter, less maneuver in. Thus, to most effectively attack the Dauntless, they would need more space in which to maneuver, which resulted in having to get rid of the asteroids. Most fleet commanders would have simply blasted the asteroids into space dust, but there was another way.

Commander Fyre leaned up against the command chair. “ Is this one of your…unique maneuvers?”

“Sure.”

The tractor beams of the two Kashan cruisers grabbed hold of the asteroids around the path and sent them hurtling at the enemy flagship. The first few smaller asteroids impacted against the pirate ship’s particle shields, disintegrating the rocks and damaging the shields. This had yet another benefit, the vast amount of space dust temporary overwhelmed the opposing sensors, leading it vulnerable to the next wave of asteroids in a never-ending cycle that would culminate in the collapse of the enemy shields and consequently, the destruction of the enemy ship.

“That’s good enough. We don’t want to destroy the ship.”

“Sir, the Colonial forces are fully ready to attack again.”

Aboard the Seraph-class cruiser Vice Commodore Shipwright watched in stunned silence as Corise Lucerne quickly took command of the battleground. He had, hurriedly, removed himself from the immediate vicinity and, to that end, retreated to the portside wing of the bridge where he could, oddly enough, oversee all the goings on without too much obstruction.

Here was a man of military upbringing, a man with a history in the fleet. Unlike Lance he had spent his years learning the arts of soldierly, learning the intricacies of combat and clearly had earned a dominating sense of presence on the grand-scale. There was so much to behold that, stunned as he was, Lance could hardly correlate any sort of response.

He envied the man for his tactical ability and chuckled at the contradiction; philosopher and punisher.

“Can I get you something, sir?”

Lance, looking to his left, found the source of the voice. A young lieutenant was standing at his side and, despite the situation, smiling.

“Um, no, thank you.” Lance replied half numb. “My… uh ship?”

With a nod the Lieutenant moved towards another duty station. “Yes, we have open communications with the Colonial currently. I believe your commander d’Foose…”

“Captain,” corrected Lance.

“Yes, your Captain d’Foose has ceded to Commodore Lucerne. She has just carried out an attack on the broadside of that cruiser and I believe she is moving to attack again.”

“Thank you,” snapped the Vice Commodore. He was reconnoitering for himself. “I don’t need the play by play. If you want to be useful, go tell your Commodore that if he needs any assistance I would be only to glad to offer it.”

He waved his fingers petulantly. Shooed away, the Lietenant departed.

Back on track Lance turned his considerable intellect to the task of absorbing as much information as possible. This would be, after all, the first actual combat test of his new line of starships.





Meanwhile, aboard the Colonial…

“Colonial One through Six reports rearmed and ready for launch. Colonial Seven through Twelve are landing for rearmament.”

The flight commander, a wing veteran and the Captains senior by almost two decades, spun around towards the d’Foose. He had a beleaguered look about him that, by and large, camouflaged a still potent tactician below. “I suggest breaking the squadron in two groups. Our fighters primary warheads seem to be more potent then our Kashan counterparts.”

Captain d’Foose studied the field of battle. Simpatico clicked. She saw what he saw and replied, “Confirmed.”

“Tactical,” she commanded. “Give me firing solutions on the Dauntless.”

“Aye,” replied her XO, adding, “We won’t get clear shots from here.”

She nodded, “Fire at will.”

The heavy guns of the Colonial destroyer thumped impressively. Her eight heavy turbo-lasers, the ships primary offensive compliment and thus mounted along the optimized firing arc, sent wild bolts of energy zipping across the void. A moment later her manifest of heavy ion cannons joined in the attack.

A sizable barrage, fired free-volley, bombarded the Dauntless without inflicting any serious damage. Though a few shots managed to land home the range and angle of fire sent them glancing off its shields. These were quickly diminishing, however, thanks to the efforts of the Kashan commodore.

“Group A is in position,” called the flight commander.

At this Captain d’Foose simply nodded and the commander signaled for his fighters to begin their run.

Under the cover of the Colonials big guns the half squadron of Arrow interceptors rocketed forwards. They moved elegantly in uniform precision, shooting through the debris field with an uncanny speed. As the distance closed and the Dauntless began to bring its own defensive weapons online the squadron began to bank to port. Along the underside of their space-frames missile bay doors opened to the blackness of space. Fractions of a second later, riding powerful yellow thrust trails, and a volley of missiles shot out. By this time, however, the fighters had rolled fully to port and begun to pull away.

Their missiles streaked away, but they did not seek out the Dauntless for it was not their target. In stead they quickly spun around and, tracking away from the interceptors, sought out the largest remaining asteroid bodies. They exploded in a myriad display of colors.

“Fire tubes One, Two and Three.”

The tactical officer carried out his Captains orders. Three torpedoes, long black things equipped with powerful warheads and swift engines, slipped out of the nose section of the destroyer without much fan fare. Once free they ignited their drive engines and activated their tracking hardware.

“Get our boys out of there,” ordered d’Foose. “Get them out now.”

The fighters reported clear. The Kashans were clear likewise.

And then the debris field exploded.

“Cardite,” said the XO, shocked. “How did you know?”

But the Captain was too busy watching the displays, watching while the cascade explosion washed over the Dauntless and crumpled its shields like so much paper foil.

“Signal the Commodore. We’re ready to attack on his word.”

And the fighters formed up.

“The Colonial forces are ready to attack.”

The blond-haired man nodded. “As are we. It looks like the only option is to move forward, at least for the moment. Redirect turbolaser energy to shield and ion cannon recharge rates.”

As the two Seraphs marched forward, emerald bolts faded away under the new cascade of sapphire bolts of the quad ion cannons. Shots thundered forth from both factions, pummeling shields, and in the case of the Dauntless-class Cruiser, still devastated by the unorthodox asteroid attack, knocked out. The Seraph slightly rocked under a salvo of turbolaser bolts from the partially stripped heavy cruiser. A few taps on the commodore’s screen revealed that shields had been struck at a slightly weak point, and thence, the bolts had hit the hull. Corise shrugged indifferently; the ultrachrome plating insured that minor salvos of bolts did little if any damage to the actual hull. Ironically, Power previously hurled at the vessel was now powering up the Kashan vessel’s defenses.

“It’s only a matter of time,” commented Commodore Lucerne, staring at the power readings of the Dauntless, “Redirect Steadfast ion cannon priority to the pirate prize vessels.”

“Yes sir.”

As the Seraph turned to present it’s broadside to the former rebel cruiser, the Steadfast continued straight forward, cutting off cargo ships recently captured by the pirates from their flagship. Undercrewed and with few weapons, the cargo vessels were hardly opponents to any modern warship, even if it was a Nebulon Frigate. Thus, it was less than surprising that the faster, and generally smaller, pirate prizes began to flee. The Steadfast did not give chase to those vessels, instead tractoring the larger cargo vessels, including a trio of Xiytiar-class freighters, before pounding them into submission via the quad ion cannons. Blue lightning sprawled across the hulls of the latter vessels, overloading circuits and computers. Closing his eyes, the Kashan man could almost see the sparks from the circuits striking the piratical crewmen.

“All enemy prize ships not disabled in the area have fled.”

That only left the Dauntless as the sole remaining threat to the joint fleet.

“The enemy is signaling surrender,” called the Executive Officer with a hand on the shoulder of a junior communications officer. He wore on his face a look of relieved victory.

Captain d’Foose noticed this and found herself inwardly disappointed at the man, but turning her eyes over the rest of the bridge crew, saw the same look of relief common among them. Ambitious as she was d’Foose aspired to create in the Colonial and upstanding image of strength and confidence, she wished to eschew the very grimace painted on the faces of her subordinates.

And then inspiration; she had an idea.

“They’re surrendering to the wrong ship. Commodore Lucerne owns this battleground.”

Shocked, the XO looked up with eyebrows cresting. Similarly, so did the majority of her crew. Those within earshot, able to infer the hostility in her tone, leaned a curious ear towards the Captain.

“No one spits on the Colonial flag and gets away with it. No one does, ever.” Captain d’Foose stalked forwards. Crossing the command bridge, she stepped into the tactical coordination duty station. “Ensign…”

The hard faced, hardliner Colonial officer looked up at her with a grin. He understood and that sensation of simpatico, even between herself and just one of her crew, it inspired a renewed assurance in her plan.

“Salvo fire, guns two, four, six and eight; back them up with Ion support,” she manually began selecting targets from his screen as she spoke. “Target their engine ports here, here and here… The damage should be minimal, but the effect will be glorious.”

Nodding, without a moments hesitation, the tactical commander relayed her commands and the Colonial shook anew.

Bolts of crimson and cerulean shot away from the Colonial and struck their targets across the distance. All the while, pushing ahead of the Seraph, the destroyer continued to advance along a line perpendicular to the Dauntless. The first few shots went awry as her gunnery crews, all eager to serve, opted for rate of fire over accuracy.

Aboard the Dauntless, doubtless surprised beyond words, the pirates started to return fire. They were too late and their weapons too sloppy.

A glorious series of explosions ripped along the starboard side of the Dauntless.

Captain d’Foose had selected the ships venting ports. Intimately familiar with the design and structure of the Dauntless line she was only too aware of the flaw in its design. Engine exhaust, still volatile and easily excited, was pumped along ducts that ran along the starboard side of the Dauntless just below the ships armored skin. Normally this would be of little note; save for the fact that in building its line the developers at SoroSub had not actually intended to create a warship. Engine exhaust was not cooled until venting, after exiting the ships exhaust ports… while in transit from Engines to vent the substance had proven incredibly unstable.

The Dauntless began to list sideways sporting significant damage, though it appeared far worse at a glance…

“Now, what was that about surrendering?” She laughed. “Bring us into position along her starboard side. I want a full cannon track. I’m sure that Commodore Lucerne will have something to say about this…”

She smiled and, looking towards the communication officer, half expected…

“Sir,” informed a crewmember from the crewpit, “we are receiving a rerouted transmission of surrender of the Dauntless from the Colonial.”

Corise sagely nodded.

“Excellent. Tell them to prepare for a boarding-”

The Commodore stopped talking as the black wedge of the Colonial surged forward at the enemy flagship, filling the space around it with brilliant streaks of ruby and sapphire. Explosions enveloped the ship’s engines in a brilliant firestorm. He closed his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. Seconds later, the Kashan commodore’s jaw tightened as his eyes opened with furrowed brow. His body turned tense, his face contorted into a cold, livid rage.

“Flight Control,” yelled the Kashan Commander, “have all of our starfighters stop transmitting their IFF codes to the Colonials. Their new orders are to target and trail all Colonial starfighters. Inform the Steadfast to track and target the Colonial with all her weapons. We will do likewise.”

Colonial starfighters watched as the Deathsabers faded off their sensor screens. Seconds later, the warning of a target lock from an invisible appeared on most of their screens. The weapon turrets of Seraph-class cruisers churned to face the Colonial. Each weapon slightly shifted as it picked out a key system on the Gestalt craft.

The Commodore turned to Lance and gestured him to join him at the holo-projector.

“Comms, give us a channel to the Colonial.”

“Yes sir.”

Corise produced a cold smile as the holograph of the Colonial captain appeared.

“Captain, perhaps you would care to explain the recent actions of your vessel…”

The coldness disappeared into the unveiled inferno of the man’s anger.

“What the frak is going on? Since when do Coalition vessels, or even those of any civilized navy attack a surrendering navy? Your actions are worse than that of the Empire and are on par with those of a Sith! If I was superior, I would have your head…”

Kilometers apart and standing on separate bridges aboard separate starships, Vice Commodore Shipwright and Captain d’Foose reacted in similar fashion to Commodore Lucerne’s outright frustration; their jaws dropped. This was totally uncharacteristic of the man they had come to know so well throughout the trials that had forged their relationships. Their nations had come together under a bond forged and strengthened by the relationships held between the top personnel of the two nations, Gestalt and Kashan.

“Yes sir,” replied Captain d’Foose over the wireless, snapping to attention as she did. “I calculated that the cruiser still represented a clear and present threat to the safety of my command, sir. Had the Dauntless been using this as a diversionary tactic her command could easily turn the situation against us.”

Naturally she did not have to indicate the vast displacement differentials between the assembled Coalition forces and the single pirate cruiser. Even disengaged the behemoth could easily swing about and present a new hazard to the Colonial and Seraph destroyers.

“I chose to eliminate that threat,” concluded the holographic representation of the colonial Captain. Resolute in her stance, she had locked her jaw and set her shoulders in a confrontational pose that reflected itself even over the electronic communication device. Her captain’s beret, stark white, sat askew atop her head further accentuating her furrowed brows.

Captain d’Foose was not a feminine female, not the soft and supple lady that the media tried to create in every young girl but rather the defiant, confident sort of woman who refused to wear make-up or dresses just because society thought it would be polite of her. About her was the air of a personality possessed with its own awareness, not arrogance, but assured confidence. All the same, even over the wireless and touting to defend herself; d’Foose was an attractive prospect.

… and a true firebrand.

Lance Shipwright, sensing the impending continental collision, moved towards Commodore Lucerne. Hands in the air disarmingly, he appeared beside the older man. He adjusted his epaulettes and, adopting a likewise disarming smile, interposed himself between the Commodore and holo-projector.

“Excuse me Commodore, if I might,” interjected the Vice Commodore in a polite tone. He studied the image of Captain d’Foose before speaking. “Captain, you will stand down and await further orders. Commodore Lucerne, as the senior ranking officer, has undisputed command of this field and you will recognize that authority. Is that understood, Captain?”

A certain emphasis fell on the last word, threateningly.

“Yes sir,” responded the holographic image of Captain d’Foose sounding suitably chided. Faltering, her gaze fell away from the receiver. “Colonial out.”

The image faded.

Vice Commodore Shipwright turned, his good natured visage returning. In a low voice he asked, “Surely you will wish a fitting reprimand imposed upon Captain d’Foose. Whatever you deem appropriate, I shall respect. However, perhaps now is not the best time to consider such things.”

With a gesture, he indicated the three dimensional tactical display where-in the Dauntless cruiser hung lifeless.

“We should begin rescue operations immediately, after all… the damage may look worse then it is.”