Ask Your Oath on Your Tail

[Merian Sere]

Inner Rim, outer space
Height of the Hutt war​

“This feels like a big misunderstanding.”

The Malleus sailed through the void of space with a single frigate in escort. Their target was far and out of sight, but the chase had begun nonetheless.

“It could be. But I trust the ISB. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t necessary.”

“So let me be clear.” The officer lifted his cap, scratched the blond hair underneath. “This colonel missed one report, and we’re sending ships after him with lethal intent?”

“Missed one report with a heavy cruiser,” Merian frowned. “And for no apparent reason. System checks were normal as of yesterday and he hasn’t seen combat since.”

“Still. It all seems very circumstantial.”

“Then he overshot his ordered destination. He was brought back from Bastion to reinforce Ord Trasi as a precaution. As of thirty standard minutes ago, he was still on the move and cut all communications.”

“On course for the Eastern Dominion?”

“For the Hutt Core.”

“I suppose that’s pretty damning.”

Two hours ago the Imperial Security Bureau had officially declared Colonel Vorth, his Pilum-class and all soldiers aboard absent without leave. The gunship and frigate had been mobilized from Centares to intercept.

Tall order.

They’d be outranged, outnumbered and outgunned. But Command trusted the unescorted heavy cruiser would be vulnerable to fighter wings. And that a Knight-Captain could even the odds.

“They should have sent more ships,” realized the man after a moment of silence. “Better let him go than send us to slaughter against a Pilum and he escapes anyway.”

Merian gave him a harsh look. “If taking a bribe goes unpunished, more officers will follow suit. The Empire’s capital ships can’t respond as fast as we can. We’re at war, Captain, or have you forgotten?”

“No, Sir.”

“Does your duty scare you, Captain?”

“... no, Sir.” But Merian did. The lightsaber at her side.

“Excellent. Stay on course. We’re due for an update.”

 

[Jhaa Fott]

Jhaa was stationed on the bridge of the Malleus, standing next to the Imperial Knight in her distinct White ISB Tunic, by ISB command to oversee the capture of soldiers who went AWOL; Her mission was to capture those defecting to the cartel.

@Volene

 

[Calvin Viett]

The bridge of the gunship Malleus was not large, but Calvin had managed to find a seat. He had taken advantage of the co-pilot being on a rest break to commandeer their station.

He was attempting to download data on the nearby frigate's disposition. Captain Montagan had ordered him to join the boarding party on the gunship, but Calvin nursed a conviction that opportunities to prepare would be missed on the larger ship without his presence. Perhaps he could still relay his recommendations from here.

Would be a damn sight easier without all this fucking chuntering. He paused, trying to drive such base thoughts from his mind. He had too much to do to keep thinking like the soldier he had always been. He was more now.

He tried to continue his work, but the back and forth behind him only went on. His concentration irrevocably broken, Calvin turned his chair to remedy matters. His frustration found no release however; it was the gunship Captain and Knight Merian Sere locked in discussion. He did not have the rank to quell either of them.

As he listened though, Calvin found rapid agreement with the Imperial Knight. She not only saw the logical deductions to be drawn from Colonel Vorth's lack of response, but the probable consequences if the Empire failed to act.

The co-pilot returned and Calvin reluctantly surrendered his seat, instead approaching Knight Sere. "The Captain is reticent to engage" he observed in a low voice "he is concerned about the imbalance of forces, but we can overcome that". It was both a statement and a question.

@Volene

 

[Kellan Solari]

Events seemed to unspool around Kellan as though they were mere holorecordings being played back to him. He could understand the scope of the task before them and grasped the vitality of the optics such a stern response would provide. And yet as he watched Merian deftly calibrate the captain’s waning sense of duty, he felt as though he were viewing the scene from just beneath the water’s surface.

The dizzying ramp up to war with the Hutts had left him reeling. A dozen engagements in as many days and still the SITREPs were maddeningly inconclusive. A successful sortie here and full route there. The Empire seemed to dither with uncharacteristic irresolution. A malaise that had bled from the frontlines upward, infecting even the fabled Imperial officer corps. Whatever strain of uncertainty had inflicted Kellan had clearly rooted itself in the unfortunate captain of the Malleus. He wondered how long before this unnamed affliction metastasized into something far more corrosive.

He studied Merian’s body language. The open, confrontational posture. Facial features drawn into a mulish glare. The implacable zeal bolstering her air of authority. A far cry from the woman he knew on Dubrillion. They must all wear their chosen masks at one time or another, he supposed. He slid his into place accordingly.

“Two things the Imperial Navy simply will not abide. Pay raises and defectors.” Captain Solari stepped forward. “The good colonel is either a coward or off his nut entirely. Making a run for it in a pounder like a Pilum-class? Those things can carve up a fleet but their point defenses are negligible. Get Alpha Squadron close enough and our Interceptors will give them all they can handle.”

Outside the forward viewport, their accompanying frigate loomed. Within, the pilots of Alpha Squadron were undoubtedly running their systems checks with the signature airy irreverence that only a TIE pilot could muster. He envied their task. Life in the Star Fighter Corps was one of phosphorescent brilliance. The job was suicidal. Everyone knew it. But most importantly, you knew it. And pilots conducted themselves accordingly. Trying to reconcile their fears with the perceived romance of their fates was half the battle.

It was a grim calling. Stark, fatalistic and utterly enticing.

But Kellan’s induction into Blackout Fleet had complicated matters significantly. To the point that he had put the squadron under the auspices of his second-in-command, Lieutenant Brinks. A bitter pill. But the home office wanted to know who, if anyone, had swayed Vorth’s loyalties. That required recon. And recon required boots on the ground. He gave the frigate a final, wistful glance before returning his attention to the Malleus’s bridge.

“Bloody defectors.” he groused.

@Volene @Alhon @SilentLeges

 

[Merian Sere]

With the captain handled—for now; Merian could sense he wasn’t exactly fervent about the attack still—the knight had the time of a breath to devote to other concerns. The lieutenant approaching her took her by surprise. But she welcomed it. Not so long ago, only the boldest or most foolish officers would have ever accosted a knight-captain unprompted.

“He’s right to be,” Merian answered, her brow furrowed the way it was when she was thinking or concerned. “Our mission is imperative, but that doesn’t mean a frontal assault on a superior ship is the best course of action. Good leaders don’t recklessly throw away Imperial lives.” A lesson, if he heeded it.

“We must overcome it. Which means we need to close the distance against the Pilum if only for a moment without it disintegrating our ships. Thankfully we have the finest fighter wing the Empire has to offer, and—”

Her half-smile finished the sentence for her.

“Captain Solari,” she turned to him. “I was just telling the lieutenant about you. I expected you in a TIE. Special occasion?”

Merian didn’t know if she was happy with the change and she didn’t want to dig for the answer. On one hand, she knew Alpha Squadron wouldn’t be half as efficient without its leader at its helm. On the other, the thought of him risking his life for her objective again made her breath short. Once was enough debt for a lifetime.

“Captain, course calculated,” said an officer manning the navicomputer. “Micro-jump. Orders?”

“Do it.”

“On three,” spoke another.

Merian turned back to the bridge. She hadn’t noticed her hand, tight around her lightsaber. She let go.

On the count of three, the gunship prepared to surge forward, the familiar second that preceded every hyperspace jump. Only at the last moment, it fizzled. The crew was rocked by the sudden shift to hyperspace and out. Barely a blink.

The Pilum-class heavy cruiser lay before them. At least two thousand crew, as many soldiers, twenty-four starfighters and a treasonous colonel at its head. A moment later, the Pugio-class frigate dropped out of hyperspace beside their gunship.

“Hail them.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hide behind the frigate. Use its shields.” A bead of sweat ran down the captain’s neck.

“They turned down our hail, Sir.”

It was two seconds, maybe three, before the firing started.

@SilentLeges @Alhon @Tic

 

[Calvin Viett]

Calvin realised he had been imprecise. He had intended to remark on the gunship captain's confidence and creativity, but instead he had risked coming across as cavalier with Imperial lives. To make matters worse, he now saw the woman's Knight-Captain insignia. Imprecise and unobservant.

He would kick himself for that later. For now, Calvin listened actively to the Knight-Captin's words, waiting for an opportunity to clarify his meaning, but the arrival of Captain Solari forestalled him.

Calvin saluted the man and nodded enthusiastically at talk of his fighter squadron outmaneuvering the Pilum's defences. "A sound plan Sir". This Captain at least could think strategically and his apparent relish to show off his unit's prowess reminded Calvin of the late General Dram.

He nodded deferentially to both of them and took up station by an aft auxiliary console, plugging in the data cable that linked to his cranial implant. It's processing power would be a huge help, at least until they landed. When they leapt briefly into hyperspace, Calvin felt the shift as if he were falling through the air.

The fight began almost immediately after they emerged from the jump, their ignored hail final proof of Vorth's treachery. Calvin moved quickly to calculate and supply evasive trajectories to the pilots, supporting them in their effort to keep the gunship sheltered behind the frigate. He transmitted navigational recommendations back to the frigate itself, as blaster cannon fire began to echo between the two ships.

"The Pilum's aft section has limited defensive coverage" he reported "we can use our superior maneuverability to remain in it's wake and outside its main firing arcs". The frigate would last longer against rear turrets than it would a broadside, or frontal assault from the Pilum. "Perhaps we can disable its engines, providing an opportunity to board?".

More blaster fire reverberated through the hull, the sound of impacts on the frigate's shields ahead. Calvin detected an unusually long pause between barrages and quickly followed up the hunch. "The Pilum is firing at only 63% capacity" he added, running the numbers "but we are picking up no signs of damage or disrepair. It is possible to Colonel is relying on a reduced crew complement". Perhaps not every crewmember had joined the mutiny.

@SilentLeges @Tic @Volene

 

[Jhaa Fott]

Jhaa hadn't noticed the buzz of activity around her, nor had they exited from hyperspace; she was fixated on the intelligence reports on the Colonel. The report was filled with standard personnel evaluations, citations and awards for bravery; she raised her left eyebrow with a quizzical look at the following line: "Spouse died of a heart attack during deployment on the frigate he was commending." She let out a soft "huh". And reasoned: The tragic news may have caused a sudden mental breakdown; it still doesn't excuse his treasonous actions; some of the crew may not all want to defect; they are a victim of circumstance.

Looking for an edge in the confrontation, with the intent to disable the ship, she twisted the knob to the right on the terminal she was working at, switching the display to a readout of the vessel and the weapons complement. After studying it for a couple of minutes, nothing became immediately apparent. She twisted the knob again, moving the page to a readout of the repairs that had been recently completed; this is where she found her answer. The repair technician noted that the shield generator operated at 65% efficiency. It was due to faulty connections and was recommended to be replaced at the next overhaul.

Jhaa stood up from the station she was working at deep in the bowels of the ship, making her way to the bridge to share the information with both the captain of the ship and the knight that was overseeing this mission; she never would directly recommend tactics, as she left it to those with more combat experience to make these decisions, but given the express orders given by ISB command she wanted to ensure the outcome was achieved.

After a few moments in the turbolift, it halted at its destination; the doors opened with a soft hiss, revealing the command deck of the Malleus. She exited to find the ship in full view, with reverberations of each successive blaster shot ricocheting off the deflector shields. Jhaa turned to the young lieutenant next to the knight, and ordered "Status Report."

@Alhon @Tic @Volene

 

[Kellan Solari]

”Knight-Captain Sere.” he nodded. A hint of a smile at their shared fortune. If the trajectory of the Empire had left him with a sense of listlessness, Merian’s presence on the bridge served as a welcomed anchorage. “Blackout Fleet would like to know precisely who’s making overtures to Imperial personnel. The cartel’s defection offer is a bell that can’t be unrung, but I suppose the intel-monkeys back at Bureau HQ imagine if they can target the Hutts’ liaisons they may be able to begin identifying other would-be turncoats.”

He turned towards the bridge’s viewport and watched the glitter of starscape beyond.

“Somehow I’m the best asset they could manage on such notice.” A noncommittal shrug. “Personnel shortages.”

Niceties took an abrupt backseat as the proper course was verified and the order given. Within the span of moments the gunship Eclipse and her escort The Invictus had materialized within range of the errant colonel’s heavy cruiser. Kellan felt the familiar charge of impending conflict sweep over him, but found the sensation blunted by his unfamiliar surroundings outside the cockpit of a TIE. As Merian’s attempt at contact was rebuffed in favor of a barrage of turbolaser fire, he could only watch with a sullen impotence.

To his right, a young lieutenant seated before a bank of screens was parsing through analytical data. It wasn’t until he was relaying his findings that Kellan recognized the young officer as a cyborg. The cybernetically augmented personnel had traditionally set the pilot ill at ease, their minds struck him as an indecipherable tangle of logic and analytics. Yet, as the lieutenant outlined the heavy cruiser’s considerable vulnerabilities, he found it difficult to argue their utility on a bridge. The semi-operable state of Colonel Vorth’s cruiser, The Morno Drast, made his attempted defection even more brazen! Given its vulnerable state, Vorth was not only risking millions of credits worth of Imperial property, but thousands of lives as well.

The image of a uniformed figure sprouted from the holoprojector clearly enough for Kellan to make her out as the frigate’s commanding officer, Captain Ryswell. Even her projected form carried the woman’s distinct monarchical air. Her long, aquiline features were set resolutely.

“Captain Pitard,” she said, “once our fighters engage the Morno Drast, the Eclipse will move to board her. The Invictus will provide covering fire. Support Alpha Squadron as possible but do not dawdle. Our frigate won’t last long against that cruiser’s firepower.”

“Understood, ma’am.” Pitard replied. “Incidentally, we’ve identified a vulnerability in the cruiser's defenses. We’re transmitting the findings to you now.”

There was a momentary silence while Ryswell digested the data.

“Well done, captain.” she replied approvingly. “Alpha Squadron will draw their attention so you may approach from the cruiser’s aft. You will disable the ship’s engines so as to prevent escape.”

“Aye, ma’am.” Pitard said smartly.

Captain Ryswell nodded before her image condensed into a narrow beam and then vanished completely. From the communications, the operations band crackled to life and Kellan could make out the compressed voice of Lieutenant Brinks.

“Alpha Squadron away!” he announced. Kellan could hear the excitement in the man’s voice and felt a flood of camaraderie wash over his remaining deposits of jealousy.

He watched as the TIE Interceptors wheeled out of the Invictus’s hangar bay into the vastness of space. The fighters, with their shard-like and elongated wings, gave the impression of a flock of finches as they spun and darted into formation.

“Alpha Squadron, this is Alpha One.” Brinks said. “Attack vector twelve-ninety, Delta Formation. Stay alert. A Flight will engage any defenders while B Flight proceeds to target.”

“Copy that Alpha One.”

Captain Solari watched his squadron align into two lines of six. The first positioned themselves slightly above and ahead of the second. He nodded approvingly. Brinks wasn't opting to hotdog on his first command but rather relying on the tried and true. The first line would occupy any defensive fighters the cruiser scrambled while the second would proceed on to the capital ship. Kellan wasn’t familiar with which fighter wing that had been attached to the Morno Drast, but he’d put his boys up against any pilots the Imperial Navy had to offer. And whatever TIE jockeys opted to fight for a traitorous letch such as Vorth deserved to be fried.

“Enemy fighters on screen, sir.” one of the bridge officers reported. “Sixteen total on course towards our Interceptors.”

Kellan grinned.

“They can’t even field a full compliment of defenders.” he thought aloud. He gave an appreciative nod towards the cyborg. “You may have been correct in assuming Vorth’s mutiny is only half-baked.”

@Volene @Alhon @SilentLeges

 

[Merian Sere]

This was the worst moment to pass.

Merian paced the bridge like a caged nexu, a hand restlessly on her hip, as she tried her best to accept there was nothing more productive she could do. The bridge was abuzz, everyone had their role to play, and she waited and did nothing. Victory was out of her hands. Her own life was out of her hands. She’d make up for it tenfold, when they boarded. If they boarded. But she was not a naval officer. She’d only get in the way.

Speaking of.

“Excuse me,” Merian dryly said as she almost ran into a new arrival in ISB white. Who the hell asked for a status report in the middle of a shootout? “We’re in the middle of something, if you haven’t noticed. Don’t be a distraction.”

The frigate was much more maneuverable than it looked, weaving through the sparse laserfire from the Pilum’s aft. Its own guns, however, would mightily struggle to overcome the heavy cruiser’s shields without a fleet to focus it. Sustained fire was directed to the Morno Drast’s engines, but none made it through. And in a war of attrition Merian worried the frigate’s shields wouldn’t last as long against a ship three times its size.

Their fates, she realized, may well rest entirely in the hands of their fighters.

Following Ryswell’s orders, the Eclipse pulled above the frigate and made for the Morno Drast with Alpha Squadron about to make contact. All six turrets were firing on all cylinders. Left alone, the gunship would do what it did best: rip apart starfighters. Win the day.

A volley from the Pilum met it less than a third of the way there.

The Malleus didn’t rock—no hull damage—but on the bridge, monitors lit up and a mid-level alarm whistled caution.

“Sir! Shields, sixteen percent!”

“Emperor’s sake, it’s suicide! Fall back!”

The Eclipse made hasty retreat back to the Invictus as the laserfire covered its course forward. More stray shots found it, however, before it could again hide behind the frigate with a whole lot of nothing accomplished. Not missing a beat, the Pilum’s turbolaser batteries started pounding the Invictus.

Captain Pitard brought a hand to his mouth. His voice was dry. “Shields?”

“Eight percent, Sir.”

There was silence. With no shields, no way to reach the target and no way to bring its guns to bear, it was like the captain had nothing left to say, no order to give. Soon enough the frigate would suffer the same fate and they’d all be good as dead.

Two ships. It was rigged from the start.

“Alpha Five, need assistance!”

By the Pilum, fighters swarmed around each other like ilohian fruit flies and Merian’s untrained eye couldn’t tell them apart. Imperials against Imperials, flying the same models. But comms let her follow just how badly it was going.

“I got one—I’m hit! I’m hit!”

She stepped up. “Captain—”

“I’m thinking!”

“There is no choice, Captain. Trust in the Force.” It sounded like a threat.

Pitard gulped. “Shields?”

“Twelve percent, Captain.”

He shook his head like it would be the last thing he did. “Prepare missiles.”

To their credit, not one of the bridge crew objected. Perhaps they’d all understood the hopelessness of their situation long before Merian had. This was all or nothing.

“Engines?”

“Ready.”

“Now.”

Once more the Eclipse dipped from cover. The Morno Drast’s batteries adjusted and bolts started to fly in its direction. Another TIE exploded in the distance.

“Three seconds,” said the combat systems officer.

Bolts crossed the distance. It would be close.

“Missile lock.”

“Fire!”

The tiniest amount of turbolaser hit the gunship as it moved back behind the Invictus. This time there were explosions. The bridge rocked. Alarms sounded. Sirens, not whistles.

“Sir, hull damage! Bow, starboard.” But no one was listening. Everyone held their breath as they tracked the missiles on the ship’s targeting computers. Several interceptors broke into evasive maneuvers.

Six of them exploded almost simultaneously.

“WOOO! Eclipse, we owe you one!”

“Forget owing! Alpha Squadron, take care of those blasted turrets or we’ll never make it!”

“Copy. A Flight, regroup and clean up! B Flight, get those aft turrets! They’re killing our guys!”

On the bridge, officers had tears in their eyes.

@SilentLeges @Alhon @Tic

 

[Calvin Viett]

Calvin's brief contentment on impressing Captain Solari was worth little, as the Eclipse made its first attempt to close with the Morno Drast and suffered a direct hit from the cruiser's weapons. The gunship's shields were significantly outmatched and were quickly depleted, leaving them extremely vulnerable.

The Lieutenant surveyed the ship's systems, searching in vain for spare power or a tactical advantage they had missed. There was none. The imbalance of forces was an inescapable flaw in any plan to board. Even thinking faster than any man could, no approach Calvin considered came out with a favorable percentage.

But Calvin had not always thought in percentages and he still recognised the existence of variables that could not measured. Chance. Human error. The courage to test the odds. Again, Knight-Captain Sere displayed the latter, encouraging Captain Pitard to try again.

This time, they used the seconds to launch missiles, and Calvin's fingers darted about the console to support the targeting of fighters. When the six of them exploded, the feeling of elation in his chest outshone the quiet satisfaction of that percentage now climbing.

The Eclipse had taken more fire though and internal sensors warned Calvin what was about to happen before it did. He leapt from his station, running past some ISB woman to the starboard side, just as a panel ruptured and nearly blew. The sealant from the bridge kit was in his hand in seconds, a precision spray perfectly sealing the breach before it compromised other panels.

A thought occurred to the Lieutenant. "We may be close enough for short wave comms" he postulated "the Colonel may ignore our hails, but at this proximity we may be able to transmit directly to the crew, or at least to those with helmet comms or similar".

He glanced from Captain Pitard to Captain Solari. The latter was likely to be far more known to the rank and file. "If one of you was to appeal to the men's loyalty, offer pardons, perhaps the enemy crew can be further divided, Sirs".

@SilentLeges @Tic @Volene

 

[Jhaa Fott]

Watching the commotion around her, Jhaa knew she had chosen the wrong moment to brief the captain; hell, it was the bad moment to make her known to the rest of the crew. Drawing a sharp breath and exhaling with a sigh, she composed herself and took in the situation.

Captian Pitard had failed to anticipate the strength of the opposing forces; even though it was an Imperial vessel, it made the captain look foolish, and even more so, because it was operating with a critical flaw. They would've avoided the current situation had they waited for the information from ISB.

Watching the crew scramble to repair the damage to the Eclipse, Jhaa put aside her superiority for the sake of the mission and the survival of the ship; before doing so, she made a mental note to relieve Captain Pitared after the mission for needlessly endangering scarce Imperial assets; she would need the assistance of the knight on-board to prevent his loyal crew from revolting, or perhaps it needs to be done quietly when they return to port, orders from the IAF admiralty board ought to force him to return.

Turning to and standing between the Knight-Captain and Captian Pitard, she began to speak, with an apologetic tone in her voice, "Sirs, my timing was unsuitable; however, I have discovered information that might prove helpful to the current situation, without further risking a direct engagement; we can target a weakness in their shield generators, causing a cascade in the electrical systems. In short, we can disable the ship with a well-timed shot. Would you happen to have pilots with the skill to pull it off?"

Jhaa pressed a button on the hand-held holoprojector in her hand, bringing up the target.

@Tic @Volene @Alhon

 

[Kellan Solari]

The bridge was a chaotic mural, underpinned by the tension-stricken expressions of the crew. The Eclipse’s lacerated hull had filled the compartment with the stink of ozone and charred circuitry. Kellan’s chest felt constricted, head leaden. Like Merian, he was all too aware of his own inutility in the fight.

Regardless of the odds, a TIE pilot’s fate ultimately rested in their own hands. For as long as he’d served, death had remained a constant refrain in his thoughts. But to meet his demise locked aboard this bridge like so much helpless chattel…

Kellan’s stomach recoiled at the thought.

Through the lash of laserfire, he could still discern the Interceptors of Alpha Squadron locked in their deadly choreography. They flitted round the exterior of the The Morno Drast, lancing it with strafing fire as they wheeled and spun from the heavy cruiser’s own defenders. Across the vessel’s hull, turbolaser batteries burst and erupted as the nimble fighters targeted them with remarkable precision. But between the Drast’s own gunners and Alpha’s pursuers, it was bloody work. Kellan grimaced as one the squadron’s fighters ignited, flared in a momentary brilliance and then peeled apart into embers that burned way to nothing.

What pilot manned that ship? The familiar faces of his comrades passed through his thoughts numbly. If he survived this, one of them would be reduced to a memory.

And for what? he thought acidly.

The young lieutenant was addressing him, feature’s bunched in a pleading urgency. Kellan could barely process it. Short wave comms? Loyalty? His despair-muddled thoughts refused to make sense of it. The young officer had a comms unit in his hand and pressed it into Solari’s own. Begrudgingly, the cyborg’s intent filtered through.

He looked towards Pitard. The captain said nothing but his haggard expression faltered just long enough to convey a tolerant skepticism. Beside him, Merian nodded.

“The frequency’s secured, sir.” a nearby communications officer reported. “You may transmit whenever you’re ready.”

Kellan took a steadying breath and thumbed the comm.

“This is Captain Kellan Solari of the 81st TIE Wing.” he announced firmly. “To the crew of the Morno Drast, your commanding officer, Colonel Vorth, has abandoned his duty and forsaken his oaths. I am calling upon you all individually to hold fast to your honor. To your sense of loyalty.”

“Colonel Vorth has betrayed the Empire. Betrayed us. His cowardice and greed have driven him to conspire with the enemy regardless of the danger such actions pose to Imperial lives. You all know too well the Imperial punishment for treason. Abandon this mutiny, honor your oaths and help us bring Colonel Vorth to justice.”

“Your ship bears the name of an honored ambassador. Our own Emperor’s father. I ask you now to remember your duty to Emperor Drast. Your duty to the countless lives that depend on the order and stability Imperial might secures. We must not allow one man’s treachery to undermine the foundation of all we’ve built. Stand with us. Stand for the Empire.”

Out the viewport, the battle continued unabated. If his plea had any impact, there was no immediate indication. He felt a remote sense of foolishness and thrust the comms back into the lieutenant’s hands.

An ISB officer, starched white linens and all, was busily relaying findings that indicated yet another vulnerability aboard the Morno Drast. Somewhere on The Eclipse, something splintered and imploded, shaking the deck beneath Kellan’s own feet. The now familiar sense of uselessness swept through like a tidewater and he watched Pitard’s reaction to this new opportunity. Did they have sufficient time and would it prove enough?

@Volene @Alhon @SilentLeges

 

[Merian Sere]

Relief washed over the Eclipse in the form of a wave of silence, hearts too jolted to make a sound. Stress had fallen like freezing rain, leaving them wrapped in ice even after it had gone. Only Lieutenant Brinks and Alpha Squadron hadn’t gotten the memo over comms.

“Alpha Four, Alpha Six, on those turrets now, right side! Alpha Eight, Alpha Nine, left side!”

“Copy that, Alpha One.”

The Morno Drast’s few remaining fighters tried to oppose, but after the gunship’s barrage it was clear that fight had turned for good. Their dwindling numbers fell faster and faster the fewer of them there were, and for a moment it looked like they were headed for extinction before the last handful of them made back for the cruiser, loyalists in hot pursuit. Merian breathed.

“Shields?” spoke the captain for what felt like the first time in minutes.

“Two percent and recharging, Sir.”

“Wait on those turrets and move to board.”

That was when the strange, ill-timed woman chose to speak up again. Disabling a heavy cruiser with a single shot. Right. A cascade. Was she even aware of the plan?

“Dead electronics will trap us inside when we board,” Merian said. Her voice was restrained, but there was no mistaking her smelling blood in the water. “How do you imagine we get to Vorth? If you have to tamper, do it from the inside with at least some semblance of precision.”

Kellan had seen that focus before, on Ord Trasi. Merian was taut like a spring. There was one task on her mind and it was not extending a hand to the defectors. Not that it took away from the merits of Lieutenant Viett’s plan—by all accounts a worthy idea—but the Knight-Captain found herself indifferent. Almost hoping they didn’t budge. She wouldn’t trust anything else.

The explosion of the Pilum’s aft turrets took her mind elsewhere.

“Shields?” Pitard asked again.

“Five percent.”

“Good enough,” he mumbled.

As if on cue, the Eclipse again left the safety of the Invictus to close on the cruiser, only this time there was no return fire to meet it. It was a strange sight, their Malleus speeding after the capital ship twelve times its size. Like a minnow chasing after a shark.

And then there was Kellan’s voice.

Himself a far cry from the man speaking his uncertainties over the sound of the waves and clinking glass, she thought. The assured voice. The assured words. Merian tried to meet his eyes, but he wouldn't allow it. She wished he could open up. But then what would they have in common?

Silence.

“They don’t believe us,” she simply said. Mere deduction, or had she sensed it? Merian slid her standard-issue helmet over her head. Of the twenty-five soldiers of the intended boarding team, only ten lined up. The laserfire through the hull.

“Lieutenant, keep up the readiness, you’ve been exemplary,” she said. “We can’t let up now if we’re to pull it through. Captain Pitard, if at any point the Morno Drast manages to escape, I want you to follow the Invictus back to Mygeeto. Either we make it out or we don’t, but from then, it's in our hands. Don’t be a sitting duck.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Captain Solari...”

I wish you stayed behind, just this once.

“You know how this goes.” Below her helmet, she clenched her jaw. At last the orange blade erupted in her hand. The Force gathered within her. Soldiers took position.

The bow docking port made contact. A few seconds later, the doors opened. Voices came through from the cruiser.

“Hold fast! For the Emperor!”

Merian charged.

@SilentLeges @Alhon @Tic

 

[Jhaa Fott]

Jhaa's heart was pounding with fear as the blaster fire ricocheted off the ship's shields. She had spent most of her life behind a desk, but the importance of the mission made it necessary to face her fears.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself down, then slowly opened them to examine the details of the bulkhead in front of her. As she exhaled, her eyes focused on a smouldering wall panel that had exploded from the surge of electricity as the shields on the ship absorbed the plasma energy. She noticed the smoke rising from it and the shower of sparks that had erupted when the electrical current spiked.

Her attention then turned to the docking port, where the Eclipse had just landed, and she realized that the knight standing next to her was no longer there. She wondered if she had left the ship or was fighting inside, but she knew better than to take any chances.

Jhaa waited until the squad of troopers had left the Eclipse before taking action. She knew her combat experience was limited to training and a few close encounters while undercover, and she didn't want to put herself in danger unnecessarily. She checked her blaster pistol, tucked securely under her uniform, and prepared herself for what would come.

@Alhon @Tic @Volene

 

[Kellan Solari]

Somehow, as Merian's face was swallowed by the helmet's bulk Kellan felt dreadfully alone. There, lined up amongst the commandos and their scarlet vanguard, he was uniquely aware of just how out of place he was. He studied the faces of the soldiers as they slid their own helms into place, their terse features tightened by the impending fight. Their expressions rendered nearly impassive by the danger involved, as though they had been hewn of all emotion. He was considering his own flimsy field armor when it occurred to him that he had nothing protecting his head.

“Say,” he remarked to a nearby commando. He nodded at the man’s helmet, “shouldn’t I get one of tho-”

The aperture doors at the end of the gangway hissed open.

“HOLD FAST! FOR THE EMPEROR!”

And then Kellan found himself swept forward by the current of sound and movement as the boarding party sprinted down the length of the docking port, the entire affair bathed in the sodium light of Merian’s blade. Two of the commandos sprang through the doors, darted across the width of the Morno Drast’s corridor and took cover behind a length of bulkhead on the far side.

The man directly in front of him pressed his back to the docking gangways outer threshold, readied his rifle and then swung out into the corridor as though he were affixed to a hinge. Kellan watched as he took a blaster bolt to the neck for his trouble and toppled limply to the floor, leaving him to take point. He pressed his own back to the threshold now and gripped his blaster tightly.

He shot a look towards the pair of commandos in cover behind the bulkhead. He gave a tight nod. Immediately the pair released a salvo of cover fire down the hallway. The defenders returned fire and his senses seemed to be washed out in a hail of heat, sparks and flame. He could feel nothing but the thundering of his heart against his ribs and the leaden weight of his legs.

“Kriff, kriff, kriff, kriff, kriff!” he gasped and wheeled out from the threshold into the hall’s open space. The air around him sizzled and popped and Kellan half-ran, half-staggered his way to the bulkhead’s cover. He stood motionless against the wall for a moment, white knuckled and gasping. Across the hall, Merian’s form dominated the gangway. Even over the shriek of blasterfire, he could make out the comforting hum of her saber.

“Are you alright, captain?” one of the commandos shouted. His hand fell on Kellan’s shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

He responded with a sneer and shrugged the man off.

“I’m fine! Another round of covering fire!” he barked.

“Yessir!”

The pair of commandos leaned out past the girders edge and opened fire. Solari slid past them, dropped to a knee and took aim. Less than a hundred yards away, a dozen or so defenders poked their heads out from the hollows of doorways or took cover behind bulkheads of their own. He held his breath and squeezed off a salvo of shots. The third shot found its mark in the crook of a man’s armpit and Kellan watched him fold neatly to the floor.

He swung back behind cover and peered towards Merian. He couldn’t make out her eyes behind the blasted visor of her helmet! Why did that bother him so dearly? The ISB attaché, in her blanched white uniform, looked as out of place as he did. Small solace.

“At least two units!” he cried out. “Behind cover!”

@Volene @SilentLeges

 

[Merian Sere]

It had to be a hallway. As if the odds weren’t stacked enough already, their team wouldn’t make any progress until they reached the entrenched shooters all too ready for them across a claustrophobic trap mercilessly void of the slightest hint of cover. At least fifty meters. Like ten times that, with the incoming fire.

Merian couldn’t blame the men for holing up. The sheer amount of fire forced even her to flatten herself by a farther bulkhead, lest one shot find a way through her trademark Soresu and bring her down for good. But every second stalled worked to the defenders’ benefit. Unquestionably they had reinforcements on the way.

Ten men to take a heavy cruiser. Twelve, with the agents. Thirteen with her.

“At least two units! Behind cover!”

Merian abandoned her cover and sprang forward. Her blade moved faster than the bolts her maneuver drew to her, granting her soldiers a short reprieve. The defenders had grown bolder as the invaders cowered behind cover. Claimed the hallway for their own, firing away carelessly as none dared to challenge their line of fire, a vicious cycle. They sat halfway behind their own cover, limbs exposed to spray fire.

“With me!”

Merian shoved the air and three soldiers were ripped from their strategic position, flying backwards. They landed on their back with a crunch from their plastoid armor. Bolts from the attackers found them before they could motion to get up. Sitting ducks.

With that much less return fire, Merian’s men established a foothold presence in the firing lanes and for the first time the defenders had to respect them. But the tide had shifted in more ways than one. Fear. With four traitors down, a third of their force, the knight’s inexorable advance spread panic through the Morno Drast’s ranks. She was not Varyn, she was not Kalique, but she’d grown into a formidable Force user in her own right. The fire that reached her was haphazard and easily deflected. Her loyal stormtroopers knew to leave cover and move up with her. The defenders who retreated first were gunned down; those who stayed soon found their position indefensible and suffered the same. A first victory. Merian wasn’t satisfied.

“We can’t afford more casualties,” she stated, like her stating the obvious was what the trained soldiers needed to make an effort not to die.

Systems overhead cracked and another voice rose, all over the ship, enveloping them. A male voice, icy and collected.

“Crew of the Morno Drast, this is Colonel Vorth. Hutt agents have boarded the aft and are making their way to the bridge. Lockdown engaged in sector Thesh five. Remain calm and at your station until such time as you receive special instructions. The intruders will be dealt with. For the Emperor.”

Static, and the hall was once again silent. Almost eerily so, with the firefight over and no reinforcements on them yet. They were like ghosts on the ship. Only they knew they were watched.

Merian turned to the ISB operative. Her voice was pressing but restrained. Kellan, too. Was he not Blackout Fleet?

“Where to? We can’t fight our way through every hall.”

@SilentLeges @Alhon @Tic

 

[Jhaa Fott]

The sound of blaster fire echoed around them, drowning out Merian's question. Jhaa strained to catch the words: "Where to?" She knew they needed to act fast and take control of the ship if they were to have any hope of surviving.

Jhaa retrieved a holo-projector from her utility belt, and a blue image of the ship's layout sprang to life. The air was thick with acrid smoke, a result of the destroyed wall panels and power conduits in the adjoining compartments. Using her knowledge of ISB and Navy doctrine, Jhaa studied the map, searching for the safest route to the internal security office.

Finally, she found it - the target. "When we gain control of the office," Jhaa said, pointing to the route on the map, "we can lock the bridge and the engineers out of the primary controls. But someone will need to crawl through those ventilation shafts and the access port to get there."

Jhaa paused, making sure Merian understood the plan. "This is a one-person mission," she continued. "You have more combat experience than I do, so it's best if you go. We need to maintain the element of surprise, so we'll leave the troops in a stalemate."

Jhaa hesitated for a moment, considering her options. "If all else fails," she said, "I can allow myself to get captured and hope they take me to the office. But if they take me to the bridge, it will be much harder to override the controls."

@Volene @Tic

 

[Kellan Solari]

The hallway stank of melting plastoid and burnt flesh. For several long beats after the laserfire had died away, Kellan remained motionless, senses frayed by an adrenal dose large enough to choke a rancor. The motions and stimuli were different, but at the heart of the thing, the experience alien to piloting. He slipped his blaster into its holster and pried a repeater from the grip of a nearby corpse. What was more natural than war?

He scanned the corridor, noting the rectangular arrays of cameras peering back at him through its smoky haze. Nudging a nearby commando, he gestured and the pair set to work peppering the camerabanks with blaster bolts. Satisfied, he slung his rifle over one shoulder and joined Merian and Jhaa in their inspection of the image of The Morno Drast. At her mention of capture, the Blackout Fleet agent furrowed his brows.

“Too many ifs for my liking.” he said. “If they don’t just outright kill you, they might stow you in half a dozen locations. And if you’re not lucky enough to wind up on the bridge or the security office, then this turns into a rescue mission.”

He grimaced and studied the proposed route to the office. It crawled its way through a maze of shaftwork and utility tunnels through the guts of the ship and without foreknowledge of what security measures lay between, it was a risky proposal. He turned and snapped his fingers at a nearby commando.

“Send up the sappers!” he ordered. The soldier nodded smartly and retreated down the corridor, movements oddly syncopated in the strobing crimson of alarm lights.

“They’ll have every fire door and blast shield between here and the bridge secured. Whoever makes for the security office is going to need a pretty big distraction.” Kellan chewed his lip thoughtfully. “And now that they know there’s an Imperial Knight aboard, they’ll keep a close eye on Merian.”

He fixed Lieutenant Fott with a sympathetic grin.

“But they’ll never miss you or me.”

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[Merian Sere]

“Half a dozen locations at once,” Merian added. “The captain’s right. And all else hasn’t failed.”

Not yet, anyway. Time was running out.

“Captain Solari can fight. I need you with me for the blueprints, the doors,” she told the lieutenant. “ISB matters. It’s true, they’ll be looking for me. And worse comes to worst, their blast doors will only slow us down. As long as I breathe, we can make it to Vorth.”

The orange blade erupted again, theatrically. Not too soon. New footsteps getting nearer.

“Contact that cyborg from the Eclipse, he’ll be tremendous help,” she advised Kellan. Noticeably hurriedly now. “See if you can get another message through, once you’re in position. Test their loyalty.”

Merian looked to him. That blasted dead visor.

“Captain, if this is the last time...”

She couldn’t embrace him. Not in this armor. Not before the troops.

“... I’ll be one hell of a distraction,” she promised, her voice like coal. “Now go. Lieutenant, with me. Move!”

With all too few soldiers behind her, Merian ran up to intercept the second group.

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