The Rebel Faction

“We’re taking fire from their main batteries!” shouted an officer from the crewpit.

The lights dimmed as the Seraph vibrated violently under the first barrages of the Imperial Fleet. Corise gripped his command chair, maintaining his coolness. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.

“Divert weapons energy to keep our shields up. Standby to activate back-up shields in case of main shield generator failure. Helm, take us out of their range now,” ordered the Kashan officer.

“Captain, we have hull breaches in several sections-”

“Well,” cut in the Commodore, “get damage control teams down there now. Order all Shock Troopers to help in the efforts wherever they can.”

Things were similar across the rest of the Kashan vessels. The Seraph-class, originally designed as a defensive ship, was a durable vessel, due to its Ultrachrome armor and reinforced Ferrocarbon frame. However, the ship could only take so much before it would give way under the fury of green turbolaser bolts. Corise estimated that the main shields wouldn’t hold too much longer. After that, the back-up shield generators would kick in, which by themselves, doubled their survival time. But by far, the best defense for the cruisers was distance. By merit of simply being faster than their opposition, the cruisers began to accelerate out of their opponent’s firing range before starting to maneuver.

Now out of the Imperial’s firing range, the Seraph and the Redoubtable broke to the left of the Imperial formation in a fast flanking action that would eventually take them to behind the Imperial vessels. Meanwhile, the Steadfast and Resolute retreated back towards the navigation point before turning to present their own broadside to the enemy vessel. With their long-range turbolasers, they fired upon their opponent without fear of retaliation, at least until the Imperial cruisers would catch up. Occasionally, the cruisers would launch a coordinated Starflare strike at an exposed system of the Imperial cruisers, such as the Sevastopol's Sensor Dome.

Meanwhile, the Imperial and Kashan fighters clashed as the Tie Defenders began their onslaught with volleys of missiles and torpedoes. Due to the tight constraints of the original Deathsaber formation, several of the unguided warheads hit the starfighters. Deathsabers boasted shields equivalent to those of Tie Avengers and with armor heavier than that of the X-wing. Thus, they could not be destroyed except through multiple missile and laser hits. Still, several Deathsabers managed to do just that; their pilots blinded by overconfidence in their craft’s stealth capabilities.

The Kashan starfighters retaliated, sending volleys of coordinated laser and missile fire at the Tie Defenders. True to their doctrine, flights of Deathsabers teamed up against a single Imperial Fighter, conducting their classic hit-and-fade attacks. For the Tie Defenders, it would be a war against shadows, as sensors did not show their opponents. Thus, there was no targeting data for their weapons or cues for arranging their shields. For the Deathsabers, the key was positioning themselves to overwhelm the more maneuverable starfighters. Many Kashan pilots released their stealth missiles en mass, sending a stream of the warheads after the juking and jinxing Imperial craft. With their numerical advantage, the Kashan counterattack slowly began to eat away at the Imperial ranks of fighters. Through this storm of clashing starfighters, the Deathsabers assigned to bombing duty trickled out of the dogfight as the number of Imperial starfighters lessened. Forming flights, they lurked towards the damaged Faerius.

“Commodore, the bombers are in a position to assault the enemy frigate.”

“Very well. Coordinate it with a Starflare strike equipped with ion warheads. Try not to destroy it, we may have some use for the hulk of the vessel.”

“Aye sir.”

In the midst of the chaos of battle, the two escort squadrons of Deathsabers deftly guarded their charge, the shuttle, as it continued its journey to the nav point. For those within that tiny group, it was like being in the eye of storm with the brilliant thunder of the batteries and the blossoms of explosions on both sides. The convoy silently edged forward. Occasionally, one of the starfighters would make a brief pass over the craft in an inspection run. Thus far, it appeared to be holding up, although after the damage the Imperials had dealt to the craft, it would likely be sent to the scrapyard after its journey.

Corise viewed the battle via holoprojector on the battle bridge of his flagship. Softly, he whistled an old martial tune played at the Kashan Military Academy. The second missile strike against the Faerius commenced.

Corise watched as the Faerius jumped out of range. Seconds later, the missiles detonated where the Faerius should have been. He snapped his fingers. Lost another to hyperspace. A series of bright green bolts from the Imperial cruisers slammed into the Seraph’s shields. Yet again, the lights dimmed as power was rerouted from non-essential systems to ensure that shot strength would not overwhelm the shields and the ultrachrome armor. The energy absorbed in the armor was promptly directed back into the shields; thus, it could possibly be a never-ending cycle.

“Divert all shield power to the areas exposed to fire from those cruisers.”

That left some sides of the Seraph cruisers unshielded, but also bolstered the sides exposed to the opposition unusually strong.

“Sir, the enemy is launching more starfighters. Aside from some Ties, we’ve noted some missile boats.”

Corise’s eyes narrowed. Missile boats in any amount were bad news; even more disturbing was the fact that they were headed for his capital ships.

“Priority alert to all starfighters to intercept and destroy the Missile Boats. Greywind squadron is clear to intercept them as well. Standby all guns to engage in flak-burst mode. Helm, take us out firing range.”

It was true that the Seraph Mk II-class lacked any specific anti-starfighter or anti-missile weapons. Instead, its designers had opted to have a secondary firing mode that made all of the weapon systems capable of dealing with the threats. The turbolasers and quad ion cannons were equipped with a rapid flak burst option. Controlled by the ship’s computers, these weapons would actively target areas with missiles with clouds of raw and ionic energy in an effort to prematurely detonate the projectiles. Any warheads or starfighters that managed to pass that storm would be engaged by Greywind Squadron, which served as the interceptor screen for the cruisers. Further complicating things for the missile boats, they would have not only have to contend with the front precautions, but they would also find themselves being attacked from the rear by the zealous Kashan starfighter pilots. As the events unfolded, Kashan cruisers readied themselves to take possibly enemy missile hits by sealing blast doors and preparing damage control teams comprised mostly of Kashan Shock Troopers.

Meanwhile, the starfighter battle raged on. Because the Deathsaber squadrons had broken their en mass formation, they were no longer easy to find or constricted by the formation. Flights of those starfighters regularly ambushed their opponents before fading back into the black vastness of space.

The S9s equipped for the heavy assault role, originally destined for the Faerius, arced back towards the Crimea’s aft engine block. A little over forty starfighters released over 240 space bombs into the sections where the engines connected to the main hull. Their payload away, the starfighters rejoined the fight against the Imperial Ties.

Meanwhile, the shuttle continued to edge nearer to the navigation point.

“Sir, the Steadfast has taken a hit to her engine systems. The Imperial Commander has ordered her to surrender.”

Corise snorted. “Steadfast has the nav-point coordinates still?”

“Yes sir.”

“Order her to make the micro-jump to the point in order to provide covering fire for the escaping shuttle.”

“Aye sir.”

Chasing the Seraph-class cruisers had taken the Imperial cruisers away from the shuttle and away from the nav-point. That combined with the fact that the point was out of range for the Imperial ships allowed the Steadfast a haven with which to make temporary repairs. Corise would rather have her stay out for the rest of the battle.

“Sir, back-up shields are all up for all ships now. Damage control reports everything is stabilized.”

The Seraph-class, because of its defence ship role, was meant to simply endure the most withering fire of an opponent. Hence, not only the ultrachrome armor backed by the heavily reinforced ferrocarbon frame, but also shield generators that were identical to the main shields. Thus, the Seraph’s shields were back to the original strength when they had entered the battlefield; something which couldn't be said of their Imperial opponents. Kashan shock troopers, being specifically trained for the job, had little difficulty making elementary repairs to the ships, such as placing new Ultrachrome sheets over gaps of the hull and reinforcing it with spare Ferrocarbon framing.

“Draw back our starfighters from those cruisers. I want our ion cannons targeting their turbolaser batteries now. Turbolasers, strike the fighters. Fire Starflares at target two.”

The S9 Deathsabers retreated from the presence of the massive Imperial hulks as the Steadfast finished her jump to the nav-point. Imperial turbolaser fire was striking the cruisers, but the accuracy diminished because the long-range sensors had been destroyed by an earlier Starflare strike. The distance between the factions was also beginning to widen, as the Sevastapol’s tractoring of the Crimea added additional mass for her engines to pull.

As the Imperial onslaught faded, the Kashan ships returned fire, catching the Imperial cruisers in the classic cross-fire maneuver. The formerly silent quad ion cannons of the Coalition fleet began to fire, their long-range bolts hitting the heavy quad turbolasers of the Imperial fleet. Blue lightning began to fizzle upon those turrets, lessening the effectiveness of those weapons. Emerald flak bursts from the Seraphs began to flood the area where the Imperial starfighters had congregated. Tie Defenders were fast enough to dodge them, but the slower and less maneuverable missile boats were more vulnerable. In the midst of this chaos, Starflare Missiles from the four cruisers dropped out of hyperspace before rocketing at the Sevastapol’s aft engine housing. The defensive banks kicked in, destroying several of the missiles. Nonetheless, some of the projectiles used their piercing heads to enter the plating and blow it away from the inside out.

Corise stared out of the viewport. Mere minutes ago, shades of green and blue had criss-crossed space, lancing out between the gray hulks of warships. Now, the brightest lights were from dim stars. Across the former battlefield, the Seraphs had regrouped.

“Status of the Steadfast?” asked the Kashan man.

“Section Eight is now back online. Engine repairs are proceeding at optimal levels.”

“Sir, Resolute has tractored in the remains of a Tie Defender. More importantly, its pilot is still alive.”

Corise nodded. “Hand him over to Coalition Intelligence when we stop at Starwind station.”

For the Kashan Fleet’s first performance, Corise was satisfied with the results. His fleet hadn’t been soundly smashed or driven back into Coalition space. Still, the Commodore was a believer in decisive victories winning the war, rather than bouts of attrition. In that sense, he was rather disappointed. But they had been left in possession of the battlefield, which allowed some advantages for the Kashan Fleet.

Foremost was the recovery of Kashan starfighter and personnel remains. Thus, the Imperials would not be able to get a hold on any remains of the destroyed S9s or have any prisoners to interrogate. The same could not be said of the Imperials. The Kashan starfighters with their enhanced sensors had little difficulty in finding the wrecks of starfighters from both sides. Thus, not only had Kashan pilots been recovered from the depths of space, but also pilots from the Imperial ships.

More interesting to Corise than the living opponents were actually the wrecks of the fighters; Tie Defenders and Missile Boats were considered by many as the zenith of starfighter technology. While the wrecks as a whole were useless, some of the remaining parts within the craft were not. Kashan engineers would be busy analyzing those parts. Of primary interest would be the Defender’s shield generators and the missile boat’s SLAM system. It was unlikely that any of the systems would be found completely intact, but combined with the other wrecks, it would be likely that the Kashan engineers would recover their secrets.

“Ambassador Nils Orono is ready to attend the conference.”

While the shuttle had been completely destroyed into twisted pieces of unrecognizable origin, the diplomat onboard had escaped via an escape pod. With the Imperials off the battlefield, the Kashan starfighters had found it and the Steadfast, being the closest ship to it, had tractored it in to its main bay.

“Very good. We’ll take the Steadfast with us to the conference. The other ships should continue with their recovery operations.”

“Aye sir.”

The Seraph and Steadfast, with its new passenger, jumped into hyperspace back to the conference.

Earlier…

“It would be good for public relations,” observed Colonial Minister Ramos in an off hand fashion. As had become typical of her station, and thus fashion; she was clad in a tight near-military uniform that accentuated her every curve. “We should try and convince him to attend.”

Her jet black hair was tied back in a neat bun that did not stir in the light breeze. She and the Admiral had retired to the balcony of her Ministerial offices to enjoy the evening breeze and a snifter of burgundy. Below, the Seven Cities area appeared to be a conglomeration of seven distinct metropolitan centers all stretching outward and inward towards one another. The delta upon which they had been constructed was swiftly being overtaken by the tell tale signs of an expanding civilization. A few of the larger islands nearer to shore were in the first stages of cultivation.

“You will get no argument from me.”

The Admiral was seated with his back to the city, his attention firmly on the Colonial Minister. She reclined against the railing and turned her eyes towards the sky.

A matte of blues and purples fading to an abysmal black looked down upon them. In the distance, breaking over the tall ridge of mountains that bordered the delta, a bank of clouds thick with rain rolled ominously towards them. The significance was not lost on Paula Ramos.

“It never hurts to have friends,” she turned to regard the Admiral.

For his part Ruben Mar-Veil maintained an immaculate and manicured appearance. The Admiral adhered to a strict regimen of exercise and diet that kept him vital as a man half his age. With deep set eyes narrowed to mere slits he examined the Colonial Minister with something of a critical stare.

“Being a member of the Coalition is one thing.” With a sigh, defeated by his gaze, Paula slumped into the wicker chair opposite the Admiral. “It can’t hurt to make friends with others who have similar interests.”

“Would you have us embark upon a mission of mercy to Bastion?” Ruben joked aloud, laughing. He paused only to sip his beverage. “Or should I be putting my resume together?”

“No,” she chided him, not amused by his off color sense of humor. “I’m talking about the Kashans.”

“Kashan?” he asked.

“You’ve heard of it?”

Somewhere near to indignity the Colonial Minister attempted to look hurt. Were she standing she would have planted her palms on her hips. Seated as she was, Paula settled for a sincere pout; the Admiral had seen her hand, as the gamblers said.

“Yes,” said Mar-Veil hesitantly and ever so slowly understanding the Ministers intent. He must have ruined her surprise. “But clearly I don’t know enough. The real question is, what do you know?”

“Well… It’s not what I know, it’s who…”





“It’s an honorific title,” explained the Vice Commodore. Rising from his seat, Lance Shipwright extended a palm towards the man identified as Commodore Lucerne. “Before you ask, and most navy men do; it was bestowed upon me by the Colonial Government of Gestalt and the Defense Fleet alike.”

Vice Commodore Lance Shipwright was clad in the typically unimpressive uniform of his station, though the subject of minor alterations. Clean shaven with his hair pressed back in a slick mat of uniform black, he reflected the better aspects of civilian and military life. Truth or illusion, he wore the clothes well.

“May I introduce Captain d’Foose,” he gestured to the woman on his left who, sensing the arrival of Commodore Lucerne, had the good sense to stand at attention and offer her superior a snappy, crisp salute. “She commands the Colonial, the destroyer you may have observed us arriving in.”

Naturally Captain d’Foose had donned the regimental uniform of a Colonial Captain complete with decorative brass. Though it was woven of a drab slate colored fabric and cut to compliment the uniform, not the solider, it failed to completely disguise the shapely figure mostly hidden beneath. She had, however; taken the occasion to wear her hair down. The golden yellow strands of her blonde hair tumbled across her face somewhat disturbing the overall effectiveness of her salute.

All the same, she said, “It is a great honor to meet you, Commodore Lucerne. Will you please join us?”

“Indeed,” echoed Lance. “Won’t you please?”