In hoc vigens - (6 monts:past)

A sigh came from the man at his seat – if he could be called a man at all. From a seated stance, he appeared little more than a boy, eyes of emerald sparkling below brows and mane of short-cropped black. The face itself bore only mark that might have intimated a jolt from post-teenage innocence into dark adulthood, a scar running from right eye into hairline earned in blood during a duel to the death what seemed like a long time ago.


Just thinking of the incident between valedictorian and president of the Imperial Academy – Raltiir’s graduating class made Grand Admiral-Baron Telan Desaria cringe. Remembered images came and went: Alexander Drago patching wounds as his second; Natasha Voroshilov reluctantly acting for Pol Tandris; the blow when Tandris drew a concealed vibroblade and sliced open his forehead; the final melee when the Baron of Raenoria struck down his one-time friend who in a fit of jealous rage accused him of cheating.


I never cheated. Damn it, Pol, you knew that.


The office of a Grand Admiral was expansive, Desaria’s no different. The wide-open space just behind the bridge of his flagship helped hide his pain amid darkness and low light. The life of a Grand Admiral was never easy – memories of childhood ill-enjoyed did little to assuage the anguish of recollection. Salvation came in an unlikely form, one that snapped him out of reverie and back to a harsh but bearable reality.


Desaria flicked a finger over a raised key that shut off the HoloNet indicator and brought a flat-screen representation of a man a thousand light years away to life.


“ Grand Admiral Batch! How are you adjusting to your new surroundings?”


“ Well enough,” came the reply from new Chief of the Imperial General Staff. “ Things have been interesting here, to say the least.”


“ Oh, how so?”


Grand Admiral Batch gave a bark of a laugh, intimating all too clearly that his younger peer should keep more abreast of the galactic news networks. Coruscant had, after all, been retaken in a state of considerable disarray. “ Well, do you know Field Marshal Tcharter?”


“ I know of him, and those damned little figurines he collected.”


“ Well, he’s been running around here frantically looking for them. Apparently, he left them here before we withdrew.”


“ Don’t tell me…”


“ Yep. Someone snatched them up on their way out. He refuses to believe this and has had an entire company of cadets searching the Palace. We’ve started a pool as to how long he looks for them.”


“ Thank the Gods – he had horrible tastes. Those things were worth a millionth of what he paid for them.”


The pair shared a laugh before Admiral Batch turned serious. “ I actually called on a matter of business. The staff has worked out a plan and we want you to execute it. You’re one for improvisation and this one will need a good bit.”


“ Oh? What’s the target?”


Batch began typing keys as he sent reams of documents over subspace to his fellow Grand Admiral. “ We want you to hit Thyferra.”

“ Your Excellency, Commodores Travis and Larinn have arrived.”


“ Admit them.”


Grand Admiral Desaria turned slowly to face out his office window, such a position presenting a breathtaking view of Aleen. The battle to wrest that world from rebel control had been as fierce as it had been punctuated: ten minutes elapsed before the backs of five Nebulon-C cruisers had been broken, though a terrible cost had been paid in fighters and close-in pickets. The Baron remembered Rear Admiral Arrivich’s recounting vividly for it was explicit and emotional: he had lost two sons in one tenth of an hour.


Approximately five meters from the Admiral’s desk, steel doors parted giving a scant glimpse of the aft control corridor outside. That glimpse found itself drowned out as the forms of two men entered, the doors closing in their wake. Each stood at attention and gave a salute before mounting the desk-dais and taking seats before the commander of the Third Fleet.


“ Gentlemen, I am sorry to do this, but I must cancel leave for your two squadrons.”


The single phrase, bearing so much weight in the minds of the attended guests, brought them both a little straighter in their chairs. Commodore Travis spoke. “ With all due respect, Admiral, we’ve been fighting non-stop for five months. This is the first shore leave our crews have had.”


“ It is a tribute to the excellence with which this formation has conducted itself that these measures are taken. We have received orders cut specifically for the Third Fleet. We leave for Thyferra in the morning.”


Both men were taken aback by the announcement coming so soon after a campaign that had just been won. The Corellian Trade Spine from Duro to Bestine had been taken from Republic forces, and many ships as a result were in dire need to time in dock. Carbon scoring ran rampant, robbing every single ship of the pristine beauty so well known to befit Imperial men of war.


“ Admiral, what is the plan?” Commodore Larinn had never been one to question orders. When a superior spoke, the word of law became etched in stone.


The Grand Admiral and Baron handed each a pad, detailing the first assault plan. “ The 1st Squadron will be on the left, 2nd on the right. The command group will remain inside the arrow-head as a reserve. The long-range heavy turbolasers of the flagship will give a good account of themselves and make your job much easier. The Destroyers must make up the point, but you may arrange the individual ships at your own discretion. The formation must be solid. We shall hit by the eighth planet of the Thyferra System where the defense fleet has its fuel depot. Remember gentlemen, this is the last bastion of the Rebels behind our lines. They are going to fight dearly to maintain it so we must all be willing to make the supreme sacrifice. I know I am.”

The first wave of the assault hit without wanring, without preparation. The 1st and 2nd Squadrons of the Third Fleet hit the defenses of Thyferra like a torrential storm on the breakers.


Ten Star Destroyers headed up a formation of twice as many support craft composed of pickets, monitors, cruisers, and the other thin-skinned craft that had little hope of surviving the pounding the now-embattled rebels would dish out.


And pound they did. In four years' of heated and fierce combat, the obtrusive 'New Republic' had been all but eradicated from the Empire's side of the galaxy. Fleets of war had stomped out the virulent fires of democracy with turbolaser and torpedo. The rolls of honoured dead on both sides grew higher and higher every minute, but simply could not stop growing. A war of ideology had been engaged, the kind from there was no extracation.


The rebels gave quite a fight the minute the Destroyers exited hyperspace at the edge of the system, moving closer and closer towards their prize. Battle platforms, other orbital defenses, and planetary weapons proved too great a match for the Imperial assault, however, and they were forced to withdraw to the edge of the system where the guns could scorch their dirtied hulls and the soldiers of the Empire would have a chance to lick their wounds.


Grand Admiral Desaria, watching from behind on the bridge of his flagship, the Intimidator, was angered. But not at his men, for they had tried their best. All knew it was to be a bloody battle - only eight of his ten battleships returned.


He prepared himself for the next charge.

"Grand Admiral Drago?"

The tall, athletic man in a white uniform turned and looked away from the circular view port in his office. A young straight-laced ensign, no older than 19, straight out of the academy, stood before him; a distinct nervousness in his eyes.

"mmm, yes Ensign Bragado?" The Grand Admiral replied. He knew most of his officer corp by name, something that instilled great loyalty in his command.

"Grand Admirla Desaria has begun his assualt on Thyferra."

"Very well, how far out are we from the interception point with the Rebel reinforcements?"

"2500 kilometers, we should be arriving within 15 minutes."

"Intel reports?"

"Four Heavy MC-250's and Fleet Admiral Vak'ak's MCC. Along with a squadron of Neb's and other frigates."

"Interesting, I didn't forsee Vak' ak putting himself into this fray. A mistake to be sure on both parts. Order Line Captain Dessik to move the Fulmenis into the lead. Let's see just how effective that MCC is against the might of an Executor."

"Yes sir."

Drago turned back and looked out his view-port. The lines of star's stretched by hyperspace was soothing, almost hypnotic. Vak' ak was making a mistake. Reinforcements were not the answer for this battle, he should have called off his fleet and regrouped for a counter attack. Make Desaria chew up men and ships taking Thyferra on the ground.

He turned and walked to his massive Alderaan Mahogany desk, touching the screen of his console he called up his fleet deployment. 6 ISD/a's, 3 VSD's, a squandron of Maw class Dreadnaughts and double that in lancers and 4 Interdictors. Many would question his placing the Fulmenis at the point of this fleet especially against 4 MC-250's and an MCC, but the formation he was going to use would prove the wisdom of this tactic.

He touched another button on his console. It opened an encrypted link to Desaria's command chair. He needed to make sure his best friend was not in need of the 1st Fleet.

" They go, but not well."

Grand Admiral Desaria looked into the holoscreen portraying his best friend in a multi-bit facade, and gave a quick shake of his head. The question had been direct, and so had his answer, but a response was needed.

" Before you engage whomever Admiral Grahm called for reinforcements, I warn you to be ready for a surprise. Intelligence underestimated the number of Golan Defense Platforms at Thyferra by three, no small number. I would guess your reports to be half accurate at best. Here, I've lost three Destroyers and a half-dozen pickets in an hour's assault. I've regrouped and prepared to flank their inner-ring through the orbital path of the sixth planet, but casualties will still be high. Every rock in space has been fitted with a cannon of some kind.

" I've got my work cut out for, that is for sure."

[Killian]

.: Dressed soley in a black sneaking suit a slender, muscular figure slipped through a few rocky outcroppings sneaking his way into Xucphra City, Thyferra's capital. The suit itself was an imperial technilogical marvel for that time, it was covered from head to toe in fractal-optical distortion sensors, allowing the user to blend seemlessly into shadows and dark areas. One of the ultimate perks for working within the leader in Research and Development, the Soverign Galactic Empire, was getting to use the materials and things they came up with first hand.

The City was well in view from the shadowy figure's view point. The large capital housed a specific goal in this campaign to overthrow. A mark, one responsible for dozens of Imperial deaths...he was to be assassinated.

Jogging quietly on the borderline of trees and foliage, the assassin came upon the entryway to the city. As predicted it was well guarded. Entry from the front would be impossible without raising some sort of alarm. Taking a good long look at the hulking wall to his left, the well built figure stepped back, eyeing specifically a place where two walls met on an angle.

Quickly and quietly the assassin ran forward, jumping up to touch his feet lightly on one side of the wall and taking another two steps upward. Bounding to his left he repeated the process on the wall adjacent to the one he had just ran up. Again, and again for a total of four times he lept from one wall to the other, then he made one long final jump stretching his arms out and upwards and taking a firm hold of the side of the wall. Before he pulled himself up he looked back down, looking to see if he had any company...no one was in sight.

With the grace of a cat, the assassin flipped up and over the side of the wall into a stealthy crouch. The vast city before him was falling asleep, perfect for him to slip in unnoticed and get the job done.

Running quietly along the outskirts of the wall he looked down at his wrist, a holo pad activated silently. The assassin stopped and looked down over to the insides of the city. There was a dark corridor down below on a buildings roof, a perfect place for him to check the updates that had been sent to his holopad. Effortlessly he jumped from the walls edge, soaring of the side of the wall through the darkness to a nearby building top, rolling upon impact. In a fluid motion comming out of the roll he was up and running again, faster this time. He haulted within the corridor he had spotted from the wall, and activated the pad on his arm.:.

Drago listened to Telan intently, his stormy green eyes flashing as his computer-like mind adapted new strategies.

"That is indeed a massive intelligence failure, Telan. I'll order Natasha to send you a destroyer squadron from her 4th fleet, as well as an escort carrier. Use those numbers to your advantage Holo." Drago grinned. It was force of habit, he revelled in the moment, strategy planning, everything was numbers too him when he fought, it gave him a cold apperance, but it was neccessary for a commander to think of losses in terms of numbers rather than comrades.

Drago pressed another button on his desk, it called up a link to his communications officer.

"Contact Grand Admiral Natasha encryption priority Omega-5-endor."

"Yes Admiral."

Telan prepared to protest Drago's call for reinforcement. Drago however cut him off.

"Take the help Telan, the Destroyers will replace the ones you lost and those fighters will give you the firepower you need to break through those Golans. Don't worry about the NR reinforcements. They are about to be the first person outside of the Empire to ever face the Dragonian Line."

It was a strategy he had created when he was in the academy similuating fleet battles against his class mates. Telan had been the only person he had ever faced to not have his entire force wiped out by the formation. However it was never put into practice because of the need to use an SSD as the point and not many Admiral's liked putting their flagship on the front lines.

"I'll see you in a few hours Holo, don't make me mop up after you," Drago winked and saluted his comrade and disconnected the link. Straightening his uniform he rose and made his way out of his dimly lit office. Men stopped and saluted as he went by, making his way through the sanitized durasteel corridors to the lift. He entered the lift and took it to the bridge. He was greeted by a salute by Line Captain Dessik, Drago waved it off and took his position in his command chair.

"Order the Interdictor's to move forward and engage their globes."

"Yes Admiral."

4 ships resembling an ISD mk II's with huge orbs in the center passed by in pairs to both the starboard and port of the Fulmenis. The took up picket posisitions approxiamately 5 kilometers forward of the main battle group. A handful of lancers followed them as they began the interdictors began to deploy their fighters forming a barrier between the IC's and a foe not yet seen.

"Immobilizer's activated."

Then nothing...

Moments passed by in what seemed an eternity. Then suddenly warning klaxons sounded and red lights flashed throughout the ship.

"Rebel fleet reverting!"

A flash of light could be seen as four organic looking MC-250's reverted to real space and were followed by the remainder of the rebel force.

"Order the IC's to fall back but to keep those rebel ships in immobilizer range."

The IC's reversed course, backing away from the fray.

"Enemy vessels launching fighters."

"Helm take us into range, two-thirds thrust."

The SSD - Fulmenis began to march forward as the rest of the Imperial fleet's capital ships moved forward as well in a single file line. Lancers fanned out to provide fighter cover as the Rebel fighters screamed towards the Imperial group.

"15 seconds before maximum weapons range."

"Hold formation, order pilots to their fighters, do not scramble fighters until my orders."

Suddenly flashed of green light could be seen erupting from turbo-laser batteries all over the mighty dagger shaped SSD. A rebel gunboat that had gotten too close was obliterated in a brilliant flash.

"10 seconds..."

Drago grinned, fighters were engaging the lancer pickets and fighter detail around the IC's, but the Imperial forces were holding their ground.

"5 seconds..."

The MC - 250's began to take a V-shaped formation to engage the SSD.

"2"

Drago looked at Dressik who was itching to scramble fighters as the rebel fighters were now being fended off by the Fulmenis' AA systems. He shook his head in the negative.

"We are now in maximum range"

"Fire at will," Drago's voice was cold but his eyes were ablaze.

" Mop up? After me? I'm the one who ends up cleaning up your messes. Thyferra will be ours by dinner. I'm just afraid of the cost. Hol - - damn you, Drago. Desaria, out."


The Grand Admiral fumed for a moment, still outwardly hating his Academy nickname. Inwardly, it had grown on him, and he knew that those who used it, those select and privilegded few, used it affectionately.


Baron Desaria smiled as he switched off the comm. He did indeed want to protest being sent reinforcements, but he would use them, to his advantage - - though he was loathe to think of what Admiral Natasha would say next time they met.


He switched the communications channel over the fleet operations center located below the bridge of his flagship, often called the flag bridge.


" Captain Moris, I am on my way down. Order the monitors into position Delta-Tango 3-4-niner."

The Fulmenis pressed forward towards the Mon Cal Cruisers. Green light flashing from her turrets lit up space in a brilliant contrast to the red blasts of the rebel weapons. Vak' ak's MCC began to move towards her daughter ships, it seemed the NR Admiral thought he had an opportunity to take out Drago's flag ship. Vak' ak's entire fleet began to form up on the MCC as it attempted to move in and join the fray with the 4 MC-250s.

"Admiral, the Mon Norima is moving in along with the remainder of the rebel fleet."

"Helm increase speed 25%," Drago ordered.

The helmsman did not even look up from his console but simply barked out; "Yes sir." and did his duty. The Lancer picket's continued to pick apart the onrushing Republic bombers while the defender squandron's mopped up any that happened to slip through the line. Drago was impressed with the commanders of the small ships and their helmsmen. They nimbly avoided the fire coming from the MC-250s while providing excellent cover for the Fulmenis.

"Sheilds holding at 95%, we are 10 kilometers from the lead ship."

"Order the fleet to hold formation and follow us into the fire."

"Aye sir."

Vak' ak had made a mistake, he had not pushed his flagship hard enough to get to the line to protect his MC-250s. The organiclly shaped vessels shields were taking a pounding from the firepower of the Executor-class Super Star Destroyer. While the overlapping of the following ISD's redoubled the flagships shields.

The scene was awe inspiring for the Imperials as the dagger shaped Fulmenis plunged into the heart of the Republic line; followed closely by the 6 ISD/a class warships who were now adding their impressive firepower to the fray. The training and abilities of these elite Imperial capital vessels was well displayed as each vessel targeted multiple vessels equally splitting their firepower on each of the 4 MC-250s in range.

"The Mon Beerea shields are failing, she's trying to break away."

"Order the Pugilis, Ares and Tarkin to break the line and finish her off." Drago replied. No sooner had he said it then did three Maw Class Dreadnaughts break from the line and pursue the limping MC-250, pouring their impressive firepower into her now exposed hull. moments later the vessel burst into a fierce nova of energy.

Suddenly the Fulmenis shuddered. Drago looked out of the cavernous command deck to see the Mon Norima moving to intercept the Fulmenis.

"The Norima is firing on us! Shields at 75%."

The vessel shook again, this time it was due to the explosion of a second MC-250 off her port bow.

"The Mon Treas has been destroyed. The remaining MC-250s are falling back to rejoin the main rebel fleet."

Drago then watched with dismay as the Maw Dreadnaughts he had ordered to pursue and destroy the Beerea attempted to pursue the fleeing MC-250s. It was a foolish move by their commanders, they believed that the MCC would continue firing on the Fulmenis and that they could swoop in on an attack vector. The Norima however locked on and destroyed each with devestating efficiency.

"Any life pods?"

"No sir."

"Damn them." As Drago cursed the foolishness of his subordinates on the Maw ships he watched however as their last warheads slammed into a fleeing MC-250's engines, ripping them apart and sending the vessel into a direct course with two Nebula class frigates. One of the frigates was able to escape the out of control vessel but the other was destroyed as the hulls connected. Explosions ripped across the bubbled hull of the Mon Cal ship as it started to break-up.

"Initiate formation; Barbed Spear." Drago ordered as his vessel continued to press on towards the MCC. Two ISD/a vessels moved up just off the engines of the dagger shaped SSD and began to add their firepower on the MCC and increase their shielding of the Fulmenis who's shields had begun to dip towards 50%. This raised the shields of the Flagship up to an acceptable 66% allowing the SSD to continue to slug it out with the MCC.

Then as the first two ISD/a ships moved up, the next two formed just off the first two's own engines, firing on the MCC, coupled with the third pair which moved up on the second pairs engines.

"The Mon Norima's shields are now at 45% and falling."

"Order the Dreadnaughts to make their attack runs on the top hull of the ship."

"Aye sir."

The remainder of the Maw Squadron moved forward and up over the SSD. The angled their deflectors towards their forward array and began a shallow run on the MCC, using the Fulmenis' shields as a buffer from the MCC's now divided fire on the Imperial force.

"The Mon Norima's shields are at 25% and her weapon systems are failing. She is attempting to reverse course. All Nebula Frigates are breaking formation and making a run for it."

"Order the IC's forward, don't let any of the Rebel ships out of their range."

Drago rubbed his hands together as he knew that the Rebel fleet was now at his mercy.