Aboard the Spirit of Jyvus, a c90 Challenger-Class Corvette: Western Reaches of the Mid Rim, Hadar Sector, Cal System: in orbit of the Planet Tibrin
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The wail of the klaxon reverberated through the Spirit of Jyvus, rising and falling like a faint pulse.
Up, down. Up, down. Slowly, the ship began to come alive.
First, the power systems groaned and lumbered as the powerplant took on load, beginning as an inaudible but perceptible vibration, before slowly pitching up and becoming a deep resonating tone. The unmistakable frequency of high voltage energy began to permeate the ship, arriving at the various vital systems one by one.
Pumps began to engage, and with them the circulation of liquid fuel and oils. It started as a quiet trickle, and developed into a rushing flow, as the lifeblood of the starship surged through the pipes that crisscrossed the Jyvus like veins.
Engines clicked and sputtered and spat as turbines roared to life, before erupting into steady streams of burning plasma.
Finally came the shield projectors, each of which hummed and purred their own frequency as they heated up to operating temperatures. Then, all at once, a protective barrier of pure energy spilled from the emitters and enveloped the hull, bringing the disparate tone of each projector into one uniform harmony.
“Systems check?” Grae asked, standing now on the small bridge of his vessel, listening to the Spirit of Jyvus breathe as he overlooked his officers.
“Sir, engines are hot, all subsystems are nominal,” Bourreau relayed from the Navigators’ seat, the seasoned executive officer’s concentration fully committed to the status reports flooding in from across the ship that filled his console.
“Preflight checklist is complete Captain, we are ready to be underway,” Lieutenant Midoh responded in turn. The young pilot briefly glanced up to gauge Grae’s confidence, trying to calm his own nerves. Like much of Grae’s junior officers, Midoh had come aboard only two months ago, when the Imperial brass replaced many of the old Duro Planetary Defense Force crewmen who had served with Grae since the days of the Republic Auxiliary. For many of the new officers, this would be their first battle.
“Weapons manned and online, sir. Turbolasers slaved to the helmsman’s station as ordered,” the Junior Lieutenant said, her voice lacking any of the doubt Grae had sensed in Midoh. Dariyō was also new to the Jyvus, having come aboard about a year ago, but she had already seen action with Fifth Fleet, and was adapting easily.
“Very good. Senior Lieutenant Bourreau, suspend the general alarm. Lieutenant Midoh, Ensign Eisdack, lets retrieve the hyperwave relay.”
With yes sirs all around, the three humans quickly got to work. The alarm subsided, but the tension and red lighting in the room remained. Grae eyed the back of the Ensign’s head as the young man poured into his work. Eisdack was easily the greenest of his bridge crew by a full galactic rotation. Bourreau had been with Grae since the Clone Wars. Dariyō had seen her fair share of the Western Reaches campaign. And while Midoh lacked combat experience, he still had many years with the Auxiliary under his belt, flying logistical frigates and dignitary shuttles. Eisdack though, he had come fresh from the Naval Academy on Coruscant. They didn’t get any greener.
On any other ship, assigning such a fresh officer to a bridge communications post would have been the easy call – it involved simple tasking, and by conveying orders between the bridge crew and the deck hands, and between the bridge crew and other vessels, one slowly gained a practical appreciation for the working of the fleet. But the Jyvus was a reconnaissance vessel, and communications were everything to them.
Grae had almost relinquished his commission when they took his last Comms Officer from him – but Eisdack came heavily recommended and the brass had insisted that he would be able to fulfill the role. So far, he had performed admirably – but Grae worried combat would not suit the bookish man.
Midoh completed his maneuvers, having rolled the ship about one hundred and eighty degrees, presenting its dorsal comms array towards the planet, and moving it closer into alignment with the correct orbital plane. Eisdack furiously input commands to his console, while simultaneously maintaining contact with the deck hands, who would be suiting up now for their spacewalk out of the ventral hangar to capture the relay.
The hyperwave relay was easily the most important – and expensive – piece of equipment in the Jyvus’s arsenal. Hyperwave relays were fundamental pieces of intergalactic telecoms infrastructure that connected all worlds with nearly instantaneous communication, and a single device put into hyperspace would service an entire star system – sometimes multiple if they were clustered close together – for decades.
Most navies, if they wanted to coordinate between stars, would have to use the public network. Encryption would keep the contents of their messages safe, but all the same, a foe could see the message was sent, determine the encryption type, the source, the destination. The only other choice to maintain secrecy would be a hyperspace courier, physically sending a starship through hyperspace with the message on board. But that, too, could be intercepted, and then the message itself might never reach the intended recipient, and the sender would never know.
A private, redeployable hyperwave relay, then, was the one true method of clandestine communications, the envy of all covert operations. However, few militaries through history - despite their enormous coffers - could stomach such an exorbitant expenditure for so little intangible gain – most would rather buy a new Star Cruiser. The Empire, however, was willing to risk more than their predecessors when it came to war.
“We are in position, Captain.” Midoh stated.
“Ready to shunt the relay, sir!” Eisdack exclaimed, his finger hovering over a prompt on his console.
Grae watched the readouts tracking the relay’s trajectory. The device had been deployed directly into hyperspace as the Jyvus had entered the system, sending it spinning off on a superluminal orbit, taking every advantage of angular mechanics to keep its speed just above that of light. Even now it existed in that far realm, hanging just out of their reach – but with a signal they could order it to slow, at which point it would fall out of hyperspace and back within their grasp.
“Now, Mr. Eisdack.” Grae said as the relay hit the desired mark. The Ensign swiftly pressed down on his device, and within an instant gravitational waves slammed into the Jyvus, temporarily disrupting the inertial dampeners and causing the ship to rattle. Grae stood firm, and through one of the many displays arranged around the crown of the bridge he watched as the relay appeared with a flash. The device rapidly slowed, transforming from a streak to the identifiably shape of the relay, hanging in space just above the dorsal antenna mast.
“Ensign, if you would please send the retrieval team.” Grae said, the pleasure in his voice somewhat drowned out by his concentration. The deckhands would need to mount the relay back in its dorsal launcher, and conclude their spacewalk before the corvette could make way. He turned to the weapons officer, whose focus had never left the enemy ships.
“How long do we have until the Holdouts are in range of the Virtue’s Hand?” Grae asked, leaning over her shoulder to read the console’s display.
“At their current burn rate…” she began, drawing up the robust data sets from the tactical computer, “ninety minutes until they fall within the outer limit of the flagship’s heavy turbolaser fire.”
“Which formation will hit first?” He asked, remembering the two different squadrons he had spied in the Tac Pod.
“It appears the smaller enemy squadron lead by the Sabaoth-Class Destroyer has formed a picket formation around the main fleet. The Providence-Class Dreadnaught has taken point.”
Grae stroked his smooth blue chin. A classic spearhead formation. The Providence was a formidable warship, but the Virtue’s Hand had it outclassed by almost every metric. The engineers at Kuat Drive Yards had designed the Imperial-I Class Star Destroyer after pouring over countless case studies of naval battles during the Clone Wars, planning for every opponent of the Empire past present and future. It was a terrible beast, a predator bred to make prey of ships like the Providence. No, the Empire would win any simple slugging match today – it was the smaller, more specialized and nimble ships that he was worried about.
“Have they deployed a fighter compliment?” Grae queried.
“Yes sir, mostly flights of Porax-38’s, though there are a few of other, unknown configurations.”
The Captain focused on the readouts. He spotted some Belbullab-22s, which the sensors must not yet be able to resolve, but there was another model among them. A rough shape, taken from the scanners, heat signatures, and some inferred statistics from the onboard database all flashed across the screen. Rarely did Grae Ho’naur not recognize a starship - perhaps these were Ishi Tib designs.
“Pick targets carefully. Our biggest threats are going to be the warships that are large enough to swat away our fighters, but are fast enough to slip past the heavy turbolasers of the Hand, the Deference, and the Fidelity. We’ll have no picket ships of our own so this could get rocky,” Grae said in his low two-tone voice. “Ensign Eisdack, how’s my retrieval team?”
“Sir, the relay has been returned to the launcher, retrieval team on board!”
Grae nodded curtly, and moved to the front of the bridge, behind Senior Lieutenant Bourreau and Lieutenant Midoh, the latter of which was quickly rechecking all his systems one final time in anticipation of Grae’s next order. Grae looked at Midoh, doing his best to maintain eye contact, to provide assurance in a way that he had been told humans liked. Without clearly visible pupils, the Duros did not feel as strongly as humans did about knowing where others were looking. Grae wondered for a moment if the visor over his eyes made it better or worse.
“Lieutenant, take us out and into the formation. The Commodore wants the Jyvus just off and below the Hand’s port side, close enough that we are covered by the flagship but not so close that either will have issues with crossfire.”
Midoh nodded, and grabbed the throttle, slowly bringing it forward as he brought the vessel to bear. Quickly they picked up speed and began to close on the three Star Destroyers visible off in the distance. Next to a true ship of the line like the Venator or Imperial Class, the Jyvus might have well as been a podracer. She was nimble, and terrifyingly quick even for her class – but at just over 150 meters in length each maneuver still needed to be planned, plotted, and deftly executed with forethought and precision.
Every member of the bridge held their breath as Midoh brought the Jyvus through the final curves of their approach, and the Virtue’s Hand began to grow large in their viewport, passing the Venators to come to rest within the Imperial-Class’s shadow. The vessel was monstrous, a star leviathan of lore, and Grae felt a moment of pity for their enemies. He quickly pushed the feeling aside, steeling himself, the memories of worlds the Separatists burned flooding in and strengthening his resolve. To ensure the survival of himself, his crew, and those he cared for, he could leave no space for pity.
The flash of one of the Imperial Star Destroyer’s turbolaser batteries - an enormous weapon nearly the size of the Jyvus – returned Grae to the moment. He watched the massive bright green particle-bolt payload streak out into space, following it as it traveled farther, farther, until it imploded a few hundred kilometers away, well below its effective range, and short of the enemy formation who were closing now at five thousand kilometers. A second battery fired another volley, which went short and wide. Was the Commodore sighting his guns? Were the turbo-batteries under tuned?
No, Grae thought, he’s hiding his reach.
The enemy did not deviate course. The Hand’s heavy batteries swiveled, tracking the lead vessel, waiting for their moment. The Providence Dreadnaught was three thousand kilometers away – now two – now one – and the Virtue’s Hand erupted with turbolaser fire. This time the shots did not go wide, and they did not fall short. Bolt after heavy bolt slammed into the massive starship, and its shields held, then flared, and strained. The fighter escort around the enemy flagship bolted forward, moving to strike the Virtue’s Hand. The cloud of Imperial Starfighters, which had been idling by their carriers waiting for this very moment, engaged their engines and sped to meet their enemy. Grae watched as flight after flight of V-Wing and Y-Wing and TIE streaked past their viewport, engaging in dogfights just seven hundred kilometers off their bow. The first casualties of the space battle were quickly claimed as Imperial interceptor pilots became entangled with the Holdout fighters.
Six hundred kilometers. Flaring out from behind the Providence came the smaller warships, the enemy corvettes and frigates, then the medium vessels, cruisers and destroyers, all fanning out as they began to overtake their flagship, aiming for the Venators at their flanks. The Hand launched a second salvo of turbolaser fire, which ripped across the Providence and brought down the behemoth’s shields.
Five hundred kilometers. Any range advantage the Hand had over the enemy heavy starships was now gone. The Venators’ weapons opened up next, flinging blue turbolaser bolts out into the void, trying to track down the closing squadrons of mixed star cruisers. The Providence fired back, followed by the unsightly enemy Bulkwark Cruisers. Red turbolaser fire filled the space between the closing formations, striking glancing blows on the shields of the Hand, and raking the Deference, whose own shields began to glow from the beating. A stray bolt streaked through the space between the Star Destroyers, zipping just above the bridge of the Jyvus, continuing somewhere downrange unseen.
One hundred kilometers now. The Virtue’s Hand was forced to divide its next salvo between the lighter enemy warships, damaging shields, crippling systems, and even detonating the drive core of a Separatist Hardcell Corvette. The cloud of starfighters twinkled with explosions as contenders tore each other to shreds. The Imperial bombers that had made it through hounded the Providence, the only enemy vessel to have lost its shields, but the Separatist picket ships were ripping into them, forcing them to retreat. And hot on their tails were Separatist bombers of their own. With interceptors from both sides locked in combat, the flight of Separatist ships slipped through unopposed.
“Fidelity is picking up wings of Bellabulb-22 heavy fighters, plus some sort of Ishi Tib craft!” Eisdack shouted.
Grae dashed over and studied the new scans on Eisdack’s screen. Teardrop shaped vessels, twice the size of their escorts. Heavy torpedo bombers, he reckoned – two formations assembled for each Imperial capital ship. Bombers might not be able to destroy a warship like the Venators or the Hand on their own, but well-placed Ion charges could wreak havoc on electrical systems – downing shields, or even disabling their core systems entirely. The Star Destroyers were lacking in enough point defense weapons capable of tracking the nimble craft – they couldn’t take them all on their own.
“Midoh, we need to be out in front of the Hand, now. Dariyō, all gunners need to focus down those formations aimed at our flagship. Free to fire on your command.”
Grae didn’t wait for their acknowledgement as he stepped back from the viewport and took his seat, slipping a headset on as he powered up the console and flipped the screen over to the Tac Pod feed. The system flickered for a moment as it rendered out a flat representation of the battlefield as seen through the onboard sensors, the incoming enemy flights highlighted in red. He broke away from the screen to stare out the viewport again, as the Jyvus’s cold gas thrusters pushed her up and sideways, out from under the Virtue’s Hand. Midoh angled them into the path of the coming fighters, and the Hand slipped out of view as they began to accelerate. They were out in the open now, and had to hope their speed would protect them from the Separatist heavy guns.
The enemy salvo came quick, another barrage of red turbolaser fire aimed at the Imperial line. Grae could now see the Fidelity clearly, and watched as its shields were punished to near depletion. Three well aimed bolts came for the exposed Jyvus, two barely missing her oversized comms array, but the third splashed against her shields, which flared white with strain. They couldn’t take another shot like that without losing them.
“Stay the course!” Grae shouted, his focus on the digital readouts. “Enemy escorts are in range!” The Bellabulb-22s had split off from the Ishi Tib craft now, and were heading right for them.
The Jyvus’s two dual turbolasers turrets lit up, spewing bolt after bolt of heavy red plasma at the incoming fighters. Midoh squeezed the trigger on his yoke, and the twin gimbaled turbolasers slaved to his controls joined in, saturating the region ahead of them with red light, thick like flak. There was no dodging the field of burning hate – the guns let out volley after volley, striking the closest heavy fighters or spraying them with off-blasts, their shields popping one by one before a second wave of fire tore them to bits. The Jyvus burst through their debris and came about on the bombers, now following them in straight towards the flagship.
“Watch the turbolaser fire near the Hand!” Grae shouted as they bore down on the enemy ships. The corvette’s smaller point defense weapons, quad heavy lasercannons, answered the call, gunners taking aim and then spitting rapid bursts of plasma towards the bombers. One by one they fell to the guns, but there were just too many, and they refused to abandon their target. Grae watched as the last four, now three, now two closed in, ion torpedo launchers primed. Jyvus pushed in closer - plasma bolts tearing holes through the last bomber – as the corvette rocketed past the remains of the formation.
Midoh brought the corvette about slowing on its axis, rotating to face the front of the formation again just in time to watch the Hand fire a full volley of heavy turbolaser bolts into the unshielded Providence, shot after shot impacting against the enemy Dreadnought’s engine cluster. There was a moment as the corvette hung there, watching – before the Providence’s engine’s exploded, and she began to list. She was ten kilometers out now, and momentum carried the fracturing debris of the capital ship onward, path unchanged. There was nothing between the burning ship and the planet Tibrin that could stop her.
As the implications of the unfolding disaster played out in his head, Grae saw the Ensign’s eye’s go wide, and begin to point and shout. Just few hundred meters before them, the glint of a ruined Ishi Tib torpedo bomber caught the light, tumbling carelessly in the vacuum of space. At this distance, Grae could just barely make out something blinking, wedged in the hull-
The detonation of the high-yield ion torpedo bay was blindingly bright, followed by nothing, as Grae’s visor went dead.
Directory:
-Grae's story begins...
-Grae's last chapter...
-Grae's next chapter...
-Meanwhile, on Tibrin...
-Meanwhile, on the Virtue's Hand...
