The Past
Graal Kraxton's eyes tracked the mangled lump of durasteel as it drifted slowly passed the port bow of the Santillity. He noted with some degree of satisfaction that significant portions of the debris was free of an carbons scoring or other visible signs of damage- it meant his gunners had been especially effective coordinating and concentrating their fire.
That particular piece of debris floated onward, past Graal's range of vision, propelled by some lingering amount of inertia, most likely the result of the ship's reactor core detonating. It was soon replaced by another, one with a randomly scared and pot marked surface, which reminded Graal that his gunners were far from perfect. That one too passed by, though it was only moments before another chunk of what had once been a starship was visible through the bridge's transperisteel viewport.
Graal averted his gaze, bringing his focus back inside the confines of the vessel. He could have spent hours watching wreckage cascade by, and might have under other circumstances, but the prospect of fresh prey was much more appealing.
It had been nearly two hours since his forces had destroyed their last target, which meant that nearby vessels responding to the distress calls of the earlier victims would be arriving soon. Even here, at the edge of Hutt Space, there were occasional a few souls noble (or more likely foolish) enough to try and rush to aid of complete strangers- and invariably one of those persons would be the captain of a fairly sizable warship (in most cases at least a frigate).
There remained a slight chance that none would come at all. Graal had experienced the extremes on both ends of the spectrum, having seen everything from an ancient Y-wing to an entire Imperial flotilla, and at varying times as well (two hours just seemed to be one of the most frequent times that help did arrive). Anything short of the latter would soon wish they had minded their own business.
Minutes ticked by, as unremarkable as those that had come directly before them. Graal tapped his foot idly, while otherwise waiting in silent. As time passed he realized his appendage was in sync with the steady flashing of something on a nearby passive sensor console. The console's screen was littered with tiny contacts (mostly wreckage from the earlier engagement) with a few larger blips indicating the position of the other ships in the armada. Nothing had shifted position significantly from the last time Graal had glanced at that console, in the immediate aftermath of the first skirmish.
Then, with a flash, a new blip appeared on the screen. The bridge, which up until that moment had been relatively quiet, became filled with a cacophony of sound.
"M'lord, we're being hailed."
Graal shook his head slightly. Judging from the size of the blip on the sensor console the new contact barely larger than a snubfighter- most likely a light freighter or large shuttle. Either way, there was little chance the ship had anything of value on board, which meant it would be a waste of time incapacitating and boarding the craft. Since the vessel was initiating contact(and not turning tail as you would expect a person to do when facing a small fleet of warships), it was obvious the ship didn't realize the Santillity and her escorts were the cause of the distress signal, not its source.
That would prove to be a costly mistake.
"Destroy them."
The crewmember acknowledged the order instantly, and it was relayed across the bridge.
Had the would-be hero showed even the smallest sign of caution, Graal might have been inclined to at least listen to their communiqué. In some instances his conversation with a ship's captain would reveal something valuable enough that it would be worth the inconvenience of delaying the vessel's destruction long enough to board it, but Graal was fairly confident that no one with anything of significant value would entrust it a captain who was dumb enough to fly straight toward a Bulwark Battlecruiser in response to a distress signal in the midst of an obvious battleground.
Three volleys later, the ship became the newest addition to the expansive debris field that surrounded the Santillity.
Another hour passed without much note. A transmission came in from the planet's surface, from Graal's field commander, reporting resistance was intermittent but relatively light. The report was hardly a surprise, considering the "tenacity" of the planet's space defenses. Of course, if the planet had been populated by warriors, they wouldn't have petitioned for Graal's protection in the first place. That thought made Graal wonder what type of people DID populate the world, because judging by their inability to pay the required price (some might call it tribute) the planet wasn't home to many merchants or economists either. Now they were learning that the price for failing to uphold their end of the agreement was much greater than the original payment would have been.
"Contact."
The voice of the sensor operator drew Graal's attention back to the console, where a new blip had appeared on the screen, much larger than the one he had seen previously. It had come out of hyperspace at an odd angle- not along the primary hyperroutes into the system- and was not visible out of the primary viewport.
"Display target visually."
Graal's command was carried out when a few seconds later a holographic projection (a composite image based on the extrapolation of sensor data and several externally mounted cameras) shimmered to life a few feet in front of where he was standing. Relevant statistics began scrolling next to the image as the sensors and computer systems crunched numbers and analyzed the target.
She was quite large, slightly over 1000 meters, making her bigger than all of Graal's ships except the Santility. However, though she was the size of a warship, both her transponder code and energy readings gave off the profile of a freighter.
A superfreighter.
It was almost too good to be true. Superfreighters were only utilized by large companies that needed to haul massive quantities of goods a great distance. They were bettered armed than most transport ships, but were incredibly weak for their size, which coupled with their limited speed made them excellent targets. Preliminary scans indicated the vessel was armed with 20 heavy lasers- which might scare off a small time privateer- but in this case was akin to threatening a kyrat dragon with a sharp stick.
"Bring us around, move to attack range and prepare to engage."
The Santillity began to turn, moving to bring its forward profile (and the majority of its weapons) toward the newly arrived vessel. The smaller escort craft followed their leader, maintaining a loose formation around her.
"No transmissions yet?"
"No, M'lord."
That struck Graal as odd. Superfreighters were usually valuable enough to have escorts, but this one was alone. Given the plethora of wreckage and the flotilla of warships, it wouldn't take a physicist to put two and two together, yet the superfreighter seemed almost unaware of anyone else's presence.
The gap between the Santillity and her target began to shrink, yet the freighter still made no move to run, and rentenna remained silent. An officer was steadily counting down the distance to the target, and Graal waited for the inevitable about-face, the panicked transmission- the usual responses to a force of hostile ships bearing down on you- but none came.
Fools.
If they believed taking no action would somehow protect them from the Graal's wrath they were sadly mistaken. They were either particularly naive, or grossly incompetent. Either way they were about to be in serious trouble.
"Fire at will commander."
The first bolts of turbolaser fire lanced out from the Santillity, and headed at lightspeed toward their target. Much to Graal's surprise large chunks of the target where sent flying off into space.
The first volley had already breached the shields?
Graal's confusion only increased when the escort vessel closest to the target suddenly exploded amid a tremendous volley from the supposedly hapless target.
And then it clicked.
The superfreighter wasn't really a freighter at all, but rather, a disguised warship. And a powerful one at that. What Graal had taken to be incompetence or naivety had actually been a well thought-out tactical maneuver, one that had destroyed one his vessels.
They would pay most dearly for that.
Still, Graal could appreciate the audacity of his opponent, luring him into the cleverly designed trap. That line of thought spawned a series of questions, one significant enough to distract Graal from the rapidly escalating battle.
Who do the enemy ship belong to? Why were they coming to this insignificant world (it was so unimportant that Graal had even forgotten its name)? What would prompt them to engage his forces? Why did they come out of hyperspace from such a unique direction?
A volley of turbolasers splashed against the Santillity's shields, causing a series of bright flashes that regained Graal's attention.
"Status report."
"Shields holding at 85%. For some reason we can't get a reading on the enemy. Sensors are displaying a constant energy level- but we've visually confirmed a significant number of direct hits."
Bulwarks were known for having finicky sensors, but even they could pick up on an energy signal as powerful as activated ray shields, especially at this range, which either meant something was masking the enemy's power levels, or the ship was much more dangerous than Graal had original thought.
Another conundrum.
"M'lord, incoming transmission from primary target."
That was certainly unexpected.
"Onscreen."
The image of a human with long straight hair, dark glasses, wearing a dark red suit suddenly appeared in front of Graal.
"Mr. Kraxton, my name is Tir Esias, and I have an offer I would like to discuss with you. If you would please cease fire I would be happy to join you aboard the Santillity to discuss something I think you will find most reasonable...
Graal Kraxton's eyes tracked the mangled lump of durasteel as it drifted slowly passed the port bow of the Santillity. He noted with some degree of satisfaction that significant portions of the debris was free of an carbons scoring or other visible signs of damage- it meant his gunners had been especially effective coordinating and concentrating their fire.
That particular piece of debris floated onward, past Graal's range of vision, propelled by some lingering amount of inertia, most likely the result of the ship's reactor core detonating. It was soon replaced by another, one with a randomly scared and pot marked surface, which reminded Graal that his gunners were far from perfect. That one too passed by, though it was only moments before another chunk of what had once been a starship was visible through the bridge's transperisteel viewport.
Graal averted his gaze, bringing his focus back inside the confines of the vessel. He could have spent hours watching wreckage cascade by, and might have under other circumstances, but the prospect of fresh prey was much more appealing.
It had been nearly two hours since his forces had destroyed their last target, which meant that nearby vessels responding to the distress calls of the earlier victims would be arriving soon. Even here, at the edge of Hutt Space, there were occasional a few souls noble (or more likely foolish) enough to try and rush to aid of complete strangers- and invariably one of those persons would be the captain of a fairly sizable warship (in most cases at least a frigate).
There remained a slight chance that none would come at all. Graal had experienced the extremes on both ends of the spectrum, having seen everything from an ancient Y-wing to an entire Imperial flotilla, and at varying times as well (two hours just seemed to be one of the most frequent times that help did arrive). Anything short of the latter would soon wish they had minded their own business.
Minutes ticked by, as unremarkable as those that had come directly before them. Graal tapped his foot idly, while otherwise waiting in silent. As time passed he realized his appendage was in sync with the steady flashing of something on a nearby passive sensor console. The console's screen was littered with tiny contacts (mostly wreckage from the earlier engagement) with a few larger blips indicating the position of the other ships in the armada. Nothing had shifted position significantly from the last time Graal had glanced at that console, in the immediate aftermath of the first skirmish.
Then, with a flash, a new blip appeared on the screen. The bridge, which up until that moment had been relatively quiet, became filled with a cacophony of sound.
"M'lord, we're being hailed."
Graal shook his head slightly. Judging from the size of the blip on the sensor console the new contact barely larger than a snubfighter- most likely a light freighter or large shuttle. Either way, there was little chance the ship had anything of value on board, which meant it would be a waste of time incapacitating and boarding the craft. Since the vessel was initiating contact(and not turning tail as you would expect a person to do when facing a small fleet of warships), it was obvious the ship didn't realize the Santillity and her escorts were the cause of the distress signal, not its source.
That would prove to be a costly mistake.
"Destroy them."
The crewmember acknowledged the order instantly, and it was relayed across the bridge.
Had the would-be hero showed even the smallest sign of caution, Graal might have been inclined to at least listen to their communiqué. In some instances his conversation with a ship's captain would reveal something valuable enough that it would be worth the inconvenience of delaying the vessel's destruction long enough to board it, but Graal was fairly confident that no one with anything of significant value would entrust it a captain who was dumb enough to fly straight toward a Bulwark Battlecruiser in response to a distress signal in the midst of an obvious battleground.
Three volleys later, the ship became the newest addition to the expansive debris field that surrounded the Santillity.
Another hour passed without much note. A transmission came in from the planet's surface, from Graal's field commander, reporting resistance was intermittent but relatively light. The report was hardly a surprise, considering the "tenacity" of the planet's space defenses. Of course, if the planet had been populated by warriors, they wouldn't have petitioned for Graal's protection in the first place. That thought made Graal wonder what type of people DID populate the world, because judging by their inability to pay the required price (some might call it tribute) the planet wasn't home to many merchants or economists either. Now they were learning that the price for failing to uphold their end of the agreement was much greater than the original payment would have been.
"Contact."
The voice of the sensor operator drew Graal's attention back to the console, where a new blip had appeared on the screen, much larger than the one he had seen previously. It had come out of hyperspace at an odd angle- not along the primary hyperroutes into the system- and was not visible out of the primary viewport.
"Display target visually."
Graal's command was carried out when a few seconds later a holographic projection (a composite image based on the extrapolation of sensor data and several externally mounted cameras) shimmered to life a few feet in front of where he was standing. Relevant statistics began scrolling next to the image as the sensors and computer systems crunched numbers and analyzed the target.
She was quite large, slightly over 1000 meters, making her bigger than all of Graal's ships except the Santility. However, though she was the size of a warship, both her transponder code and energy readings gave off the profile of a freighter.
A superfreighter.
It was almost too good to be true. Superfreighters were only utilized by large companies that needed to haul massive quantities of goods a great distance. They were bettered armed than most transport ships, but were incredibly weak for their size, which coupled with their limited speed made them excellent targets. Preliminary scans indicated the vessel was armed with 20 heavy lasers- which might scare off a small time privateer- but in this case was akin to threatening a kyrat dragon with a sharp stick.
"Bring us around, move to attack range and prepare to engage."
The Santillity began to turn, moving to bring its forward profile (and the majority of its weapons) toward the newly arrived vessel. The smaller escort craft followed their leader, maintaining a loose formation around her.
"No transmissions yet?"
"No, M'lord."
That struck Graal as odd. Superfreighters were usually valuable enough to have escorts, but this one was alone. Given the plethora of wreckage and the flotilla of warships, it wouldn't take a physicist to put two and two together, yet the superfreighter seemed almost unaware of anyone else's presence.
The gap between the Santillity and her target began to shrink, yet the freighter still made no move to run, and rentenna remained silent. An officer was steadily counting down the distance to the target, and Graal waited for the inevitable about-face, the panicked transmission- the usual responses to a force of hostile ships bearing down on you- but none came.
Fools.
If they believed taking no action would somehow protect them from the Graal's wrath they were sadly mistaken. They were either particularly naive, or grossly incompetent. Either way they were about to be in serious trouble.
"Fire at will commander."
The first bolts of turbolaser fire lanced out from the Santillity, and headed at lightspeed toward their target. Much to Graal's surprise large chunks of the target where sent flying off into space.
The first volley had already breached the shields?
Graal's confusion only increased when the escort vessel closest to the target suddenly exploded amid a tremendous volley from the supposedly hapless target.
And then it clicked.
The superfreighter wasn't really a freighter at all, but rather, a disguised warship. And a powerful one at that. What Graal had taken to be incompetence or naivety had actually been a well thought-out tactical maneuver, one that had destroyed one his vessels.
They would pay most dearly for that.
Still, Graal could appreciate the audacity of his opponent, luring him into the cleverly designed trap. That line of thought spawned a series of questions, one significant enough to distract Graal from the rapidly escalating battle.
Who do the enemy ship belong to? Why were they coming to this insignificant world (it was so unimportant that Graal had even forgotten its name)? What would prompt them to engage his forces? Why did they come out of hyperspace from such a unique direction?
A volley of turbolasers splashed against the Santillity's shields, causing a series of bright flashes that regained Graal's attention.
"Status report."
"Shields holding at 85%. For some reason we can't get a reading on the enemy. Sensors are displaying a constant energy level- but we've visually confirmed a significant number of direct hits."
Bulwarks were known for having finicky sensors, but even they could pick up on an energy signal as powerful as activated ray shields, especially at this range, which either meant something was masking the enemy's power levels, or the ship was much more dangerous than Graal had original thought.
Another conundrum.
"M'lord, incoming transmission from primary target."
That was certainly unexpected.
"Onscreen."
The image of a human with long straight hair, dark glasses, wearing a dark red suit suddenly appeared in front of Graal.
"Mr. Kraxton, my name is Tir Esias, and I have an offer I would like to discuss with you. If you would please cease fire I would be happy to join you aboard the Santillity to discuss something I think you will find most reasonable...
