The Rebel Faction

On board the Ferro class medium cruiser Starscraper, en route to the recently scouted system, Captian Leonard Phall was taking inventory of his ship. In addition to the cruiser's impressive array of weaponry, the ship embarked her normal two squadrons of starfighters, but in light of the cruiser's role as an exploritary vessel, eight ships of one fighter squadron was composed of TIE Scouts, and of those, six were currently away from the vessel seeking and exploring other star systems that the probe droids had encountered less hostile reactions from. The remainder of that squadron was composed of four TIE Defenders, to act as heavy support should they be needed. The other squadron was composed of TIE-2 Fighters, and as normal, there were four shuttles embarked.

Also like the norm, the Starscraper was equipped with a full battalion of stormtroopers, and a small complement of landspeeders and chariot command vessels. Currently, in the mostly empty port hangar that usually held the TIE Scouts, the captian was reviewing the battalion which was assembled in parade formation across the sleek black deck. He was just about finished when an aide from the bridge scrambled up to him and informed him that hyperspace reversion would occur within a few minutes.

Coruscant

The message from the Starscaper that life had been found on one of the planets that she had been tasked to explore was met with some excitement at first, and then worry when the follow up report stated that the reception of the probe had been hostile and that the cruiser was personally headed to try and deal with the situation. Some of the upper echolon commanders thought that the captian should have sent a TIE Scout or two to look things over before heading there directley, but there was little they could do about it now. But it was decided to send a backup force to help reinforce the cruiser and help subjugate the system if necessary.

After assembling in a hurry, the taskforce departed from Coruscant's shadow and into hyperspace heading west torwards the Unknown Regions. The task force was under the command of one Commodore Thorton, whom Imperial high command supposedly wanted to get out of their hair for a while until Serenno was out of their minds, and included a special forces commander and one ground colonel Desaria, although certainly not the same Grand Admiral Telan Desaria, commander of the Imperial guard, but possibly a relative. The taskforce consisted of a single Regent class star destroyer, one of several in comission now, the Monarch, along with a fully embarked Venator troopship, and a small escort of a Thorne dreadnought, and four Rapier-II class gunships. Embarked on the Regent is a full wing of TIE-2 class starfighters, and on the Venator is a full complement of Scimitar Assault Bombers. Also embarked on the Venator is the Imperial 21st Mechanized Armoured Division, with a full complement of vehicles and 20,000 infantry. All of this impressive array of firepower, under the command of Commodore Thorton, was being lead into the Unknown Regions.

Before the jump


"I don't care what your fragging officer said! My orders come directly from Commodore Thorton. My pilots are supposed to land in the docking bays on your ship, not the troopship." Captain Wesley Vos of the New Order Special Forces was deeply involved in a very heated argument with a lowly ensign from the Monarch, which was supposed to be the base for his men while they were in transit to the Unknown Regions. The ensign, though, believed it his duty to direct them to the Venerator-class troopship, which was already packed with troops.

"I'm sorry, sir," came the reply, "but our docking bays are already filled with TIE-2's. Logistically, we won't be able to fit your Defenders."

Wes was steaming by now. His men had been circling the fleet for the past ten minutes while he argued with the stubborn kid. He took a deep breath to calm himself, which worked, if only for a moment. "Ensign, my men are not ground forces. We're pilots. We don't get crammed into troopships. If our own ship wasn't in for maintenance, we'd be in it and not having this problem. So if your docking bays are full, move some of the TIE-2's to deep storage and let us land."

"But Sir, I'm not authorized to move the TIE's. You have to have clearance with Commodore Thorton for that."

Back to Square One again. They'd already been down this road a dozen times. "Look, Ensign, I already told you, my orders come from Commodore Thorton himself. We're supposed to be on the Monarch."

"I understand that, Sir, but you don't have clearance to move the TIE's. And even if you claimed to, I couldn't be sure that you weren't lying."

Wes was nearly shaking by now. His jaw set, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply before allowing himself to speak. "Look, Officer, how 'bout this. I send half my men to the Venerator as ground troops. The other half you let onto the Monarch. Think you can do that?"

"I have to get clearance first."

Wes smacked his fist on the console of his Defender. "Aagh!" he roared in frustration, teeth clenched. I swear I'm gonna smack the crap out of this kriffing jerk! he thought angrily. "Ensign, who is your superior?"

"That would be Lieutenant Schmidt, Sir."

"Could you get him, please? And let me speak with him?"

Thirty minutes and five officers later, Wes finally got clearance for two of his squadrons to land on the Monarch. The other two, their Defenders packed away in the Venerator troopship, mingled with the common infantry. Imperial efficiency, thought Wes sarcastically. What a kriffing joke.


Present


Wes lay back on his bunk. Two hours after the incident, he was still trying to calm down. It wasn't often that someone got him this riled. Must be a lack of sleep, he thought to himself.

It was true - he hadn't gotten much sleep recently. With the recent incident on Coruscant with the Coalition spies and the ensuing mess Wes found himself in, that was to be expected. He'd gotten himself and his men in a lot of trouble, and he figured this mission was his punishment. Though he didn't think of it as such. A mission to the Unknown Regions - a chance to explore new places - a chance to distinguish himself and his men in combat - a chance to fight unknown foes...who wouldn't want such an opportunity?

True, Wes wasn't in the heart of the Empire anymore. He wasn't near the seat of political power, and he wasn't fighting the Coalition. But he was still in the game. Besides, he'd never liked Coruscant or the military etiquette required there. Here...here was a chance for some real fun.

The Ferro class medium cruiser came out of hyperspace inside of the scouted planetery system. Immediatly scanners were activated and took note of three stellar bodies within the field. Well, two bodies and a scatterfield really. The first was the system star, a small red dwarf, while orbiting the red dwarf was a gas giant and an asteriod ring. Locking in the coordinates that the probe had provided for them, the cruiser moved in torwards the asteriod belt.

Capitan Phall looked tight with nervousness, and apprehension, but he remained calm as the cruiser moved through the uncharted territory. All the scanners aboard the cruiser were sweeping the system with their full power, but so far nothing important had been sighted. Suddenly though, one of the sensors aboard the cruiser sighted something odd, some activity taking place near one of the larger asteriods that didn't seem to fit in with the normal going-ons inside the average asteriod belt. Capitan Phall called for a magnification, and there he saw quite a site. Burrowed into the asteriod was a hangar bay, and even as he watched, three squadrons of starfighters came pouring out of the hangar bay. The starfighters formed up into three squadrons and proceeded torwards the Imperial cruiser. At the same time, from around the sides of the asteriod came a quartet of small capital ships. Two corellian gunships, one corvette, and an escort frigate came around the planetoid and headed torwards the cruiser. The captian ordered the communications officer to open a line to the escort frigate.

"This is captian Leonard Phall of the Imperial cruiser Starscraper. By order of the Emporer you are to stand down immediatley. Do you understand?" ordered the capitan as the presumabley hostile vessels continued to advance. But to the captian's suprise, a reply came in immediatley.

"I understand what you are saying captian Pallbearer. But if you don't turn your cruiser around and exit the system, you'll be carrying yer cruiser and her crew to an untimely demise. Do you understand me?" said the capitan of the escort frigate as the transmission was abruptley cut.

"Well, that takes care of that." muttered the captian. His aide came up to him moments later.

"Sir, enhanced view makes a high probability that the enemies are pirates, based on marking on the hulls of their ships. The starfighters have been identified as one squadron of R-41 starchasers and two squadrons of T-wings." reported the aide.

"Outdated ships by far major. But then again, this is a mostly dead end route. Their opposition probably has just as outdated equipment. Time to introduce them to the modern age." said the captian with a smile on his lips, one that was matched by his aide and some of the bridge crew.

"All right, launch all starfighters, and after they're away, raised shields and arm weapons. Let's give these spacelubbers a run for their money." ordered the capitan. Streaking out of the hangar bay of the medium cruiser came one and a half squadrons of starfighters, twelve TIE-2s, four TIE Defenders, and two TIE Scout fighters. By a last minute order, the scouts were held back to flank the cruiser and provide missile interdiction. The remaining group of Imperial fighters, outnumbered two to one, proceeded to form up and head torwards the enemy starfighters.

* * *

The Pirate Chief, Admiral Mikuno Gumbo, watched from the inside of the asteriod base as his fighters and captial ships proceeded torwards their badly outnumbered Imperial opponents. He grumbled something about Imperial commanders and their oversized heads, then proceeded to bark a laugh as he chewed into the hawk-bat leg. Mmm. This new slave cook definitly knew how to make good fried hawk-bat legs.

* * *

Commander Mark Nubis looked out his forward cockpit before glancing back to his scanner station. Three squadrons of enemy starfighters, one of which was armed with torpedoes, versus his four Defenders and a squadron of TIE-2 fighters, of which only his defenders were armed with missiles. This was going to be tight.

"All right group, listen up. Set your missiles for single fire, we can't afford to waste them too early. There are plenty of targets out there. Fire two on the initial approach, target the T-wings, then break. This won't be normal wingman assignment, you'll be on your own. Try to help out the TIE-2s as needed." ordered Mark. Blackdeath two, three, and four acknowledged his orders with comm clicks.

Settling onto his crosshairs, he targeted one T-wing, got a lock tone, and fired a concussion missile. Three other missiles leapt out of their tubes to join his in streaking torwards the enemy formation. At the same time, the R-41s fired their torpedoes, linked torpedoes. Both sides started firing chaff and manuevering wildly as they closed into laser range. Mark cursed as he couldn't achieve a targeting lock, and neither could the others. Then, he settled his sights on another T-wing, and opened fire with his laser and ion cannons. Then both formations were past each other, and looped around into a dogfight. The enemy squadrons had formed into pairs, while the TIE-2s did the same. The Defenders, on the other hand, went solo. The dissipating balls of five explosions were fading into the the blackness of space. Three T-wings and two TIE-2s had been destroyed. Mark sighed, not good. But then he noticed two T-wings drifting forwards still, having been disabled by the Defenders. Both were soon vaped by the Starscraper.

Looping downwards, he saw a pair of T-wings attach themselves to the rear of a TIE-2. The pilot of the TIE sqauwked for help, but his wingman had been vaped in the head-on moments ago. He settled his crosshairs on the tail of one of the T-wings and fired, and was suprised to see a set of lasers joining his own. The two T-wings immediatley blew up. As he pulled out, Mark noticed Blackdeath three looping off in the other direction. The TIE pilot comm clicked his thanks. As he came around, Mark was going head to head with an R-41. Switching over to missiles, he immediatly fired a snapshot and was rewarded with a beautiful hit. The R-41 was heavily damaged and careening into outer space. He looked around for more targets, he suddenly realized the enemy fighters were retreating, heading back torwards the enemy capital ships. He looked at his sensors and realized why. Of the original three squadrons of enemy fighters, only one squadron plus change was left over. By comparison, only four Imperial fighters, all TIE-2s, had been destroyed.

His elation was soon shattered as he continued to stare at the sensor screens.

* * *

The Pirate chief was not happy with the embarrasing performance of his pilots. He leaned into the intercomm at the table.

"Send out everything we have. Annihilate them. Spare my dignity." ordered the Admiral.

* * *

Captian Phall watched open mouthed as more fighters came boiling out of the asteriod hangar. They were joined by a few gunboats, and from around the asteriod came another group of capital ships. Two Kruk battlewagons and three Kaloth battlecruisers, even more outdated than the other capital ships, came swinging around and joined the existing capital ship group. In addition, the existing capital ships had launched their complements of starfighters. The capitan turned to his sensors officer and aide.

"Ok, let me have it, what are we facing, and what are our chances?" asked the captian in a somewhat shaken voice.

"Nine capital ships, all together outgunning our own ship by a hefty margin. Including the retreating enemy starfighters, there are sixteen squadrons of enemy starfighters, two wings from the asteriod hangar, plus three from the capital ship group. Anything from T-wings and R-41s to Supa, Planetery, and Cloakshape fighter squadrons, plus two TIE Fighter squadrons and a half squadron of TIE bombers. And, there are twelve Skipray Blastboats." reported the aide, with the sensor officer acknowledging the report.

The capitan closed his eyes. Then the sensors officer had something else to report.

"Sir, capital ships decanting from hyperspace to our rear." reported the sensors officer. The capitan felt like he was going to collapse.

"Sir, new contacts are Imperial. I am reading one Regent class destroyer, one Venator troopship, one Thorne class dreadnought, and four Rapier-II class gunships." said the officer in a now happy rather than solemn tone. The captian opened his eyes and smiled.

"Coruscant must of decided to sent a taskforce after all. This is a whole new battle people. Slow down the cruiser and order our fighters to rejoin us. And open a message to the.." the capitan looked down at the sensors screen, "Monarch".

"Commander of the Monarch, this is captian Leonard Phall of the Imperial medium cruiser Starscaper. In system are my cruiser, nine TIE-2s, two TIE Scouts, and three TIE Defenders. Everything else is hostile. We request your assistance in dealing with these pirate scum and will obey your orders." said the captian. He then awaited the reply of the taskforce commander.

"Commander of the Monarch, this is captain Leonard Phall of the Imperial medium cruiser Starscaper. In system are my cruiser, nine TIE-2s, two TIE Scouts, and three TIE Defenders. Everything else is hostile. We request your assistance in dealing with these pirate scum and will obey your orders."

Kach heard the message, but was too busy laughing to reply. Instead, the Monarch's captain had to.

Two Corellian Gunships, one Corvette, a Nebulon B Escort Frigate Two Kruk Battlewagons and three Kaloth Battlecruisers!?! Who did they think they were dealing with, the Coalition? Them might as well just surrender and save his gunners the target practice, giving that much better odds to the next pirate force they encountered.

Not that the gunners needed it. They had drilled for months before now, what would be their baptism of fire. They knew their weapons and their trade as well as a Carpenter or Doctor does their own. They had prepared themselves for this since they entered the Emperer's service.

But nothing had prepared them, no amount of training, no class at the academy, for the sight of the forces Commodore, Commodore Thorton, laughing madly at the sight of the enemy.

"Launch fighters," he ordered between gasps for air, "Power up the guns and shields. Pull the Incorrigible (the Thorne Dreadnut) behind the Monarch and into it's sensor shadow, where they won't be able to see it until it's too late. Stick the Gunships on our flanks, with half the fighters in front of the formation, one squadron of Interceptors to cover the troopship, which should be left behind the formation to provide rear guard, and the rest split between the flanks. Full speed ahead, all gunners fire when ready."

Wes watched as the starchasers broke away from the dogfight, but the kriffing Preybird behind him prevented him from chasing them down. The pilot was good - better than Wes would have expected from a pirate. Alright, he thought. So you want to play? Looping his fighter, Wes waited for the Preybird to follow him before wrenching his ship around the opposite direction. Moving through a complicated set of rolls and loops, Wes was sure he would lose the Preybird. Nothing doing. Energy bolts still splashed against his rear shields and around the sides of his craft. And he'd already used his best trick.

Time to come up with something new, he thought to himself. Before he could, though, there was an explosion behind him. Black 1 and 2 had swooped in, and the combined weight of their quad cannons decimated Wes's pursuer. "Looked like you needed a little help there, Terror 1," came Black Leader's voice over the comm.

"Thanks, Black Leader," Wes replied. "Might want to watch your own back, too. Dive." With reflexes developed through intense training, One and Two split and dove as Wes's lasers chewed the space between them and the two cloakshapes behind them.

"Black Squadron, Red Squadron, form up on me. We're making a run on the Kaloth."

The dogfight was winding down as the two squadrons of Defenders, still at full strength, formed up on the commander. "Same as before, men. Black Squadron, parade formation. Red Squadron, behind. Let's move." An A-wing slash on the Kaloth should disable it enough for the capital ships to finish it off.

Wes formed up with Red Squadron this time. He had another idea. "Red Squadron, when we get close enough, lauch all missiles at the Kaloth, but make sure it is before Black Squadron breaks." This was gonna be fun.

The commander of the Battlecruiser saw Black Squadron coming towards him and ordered turbolaser fire directed towards them. It would lessen the firepower on the Imperial capital ships, but defense (and staying alive) was a priority. As the cannons opened up, Wes ordered Red Squadron to begin firing missiles. Black Squadron followed suit, releasing everything they could at the massive ship. Several of them found their mark, but the damage was minimal.

Then Black Squadron dissolved into a shapeless formation. The turbolaser operators, confused, tried to track the fleeing Defenders...and completely missed the wave of missles that soon detonated against the port shields. And the next wave, and the next. Then came the fire of the Defender's ion and laser cannons, a devestating attack that collapsed the shields before anyone on the cruiser knew what had happened.

Wes and his men regrouped out of range of the cruiser and reported in. Two fighters lost in the attack. Not bad, for taking on a Kaloth. Acceptable casualties. The shields on all his fighters were down to the bare minimum now, though, so the fighters retreated towards the Monarch, intent on docking and refitting.