SithLore

(Continued from Empire’s Fist)

***Kushibah, Gordian Reach, Grid Coordinates P-5***

The lower-ranking Sith admirals had begrudgingly marked the northern tip of the Pinooran Spur as a soft front. The reserve forces, the older ships and outdated fightercraft, would swarm this less-vital point of the strategic line, and stall for time if they could not hold. Though Kushibah was somewhat important as one of the sole providers of domestic amenities in Sith space, it was not of great tactical or spiritual value. The disgraced or more significant fleet captains found themselves shunted to this potentially-doomed posting, as did the majority of the Sith’s mercenary allies.

So it was that the Kings found themselves attached to the least-desirable military operation in the Reach. That said, their pay had been tripled, with a significant advance deposit lining their bank accounts. Similarly, the Zabrak commander was granted dominion not only over her own troops, but the bulk of Sith fighters and bombers in the region, as well as several transports carrying various warriors armed to the teeth. From the viewports and scanner screens from within the hired soldier’s attack shuttle, the bulkier pieces of the allied armada slowly came round from the far side of the system.

It was not, admittedly, the most imposing sight. A few weary dreadnaughts diminutively loomed from the back-end of the formation. The rare capital ship in this detachment looked dated, or at the very least, rushed from a continuously under-supplied drydock. Apart from carrier duties, they could not be relied on to win any battles. Thankfully, Sith picket cruisers were far more notorious for their accolades in raids and bare-knuckle fighting. Loronar hulls, Neutron bulks, and a handful of hardy pirate junks were well-regarded for their tenacity and surprising capacity for firepower.

Still, if the servants of the Dark Side, paid and otherwise, were to hold their own, it would take steel will and fanaticism to win the day. Tactics and luck were the deities that ruled here, and if one side did not appease them, the outcome could prove as volatile as a leaking tibanna vein...

The small fleet’s command vessel was an underwhelming transport, dubbed the West March. Her lovely commander, a young but dedicated lieutenant commander named Maro Manu. Poor thing, Emic thought to herself, as she appreciated how handsome he looked in his dress grays. He doesn’t even know he’s never getting promoted. She could tell by the way he fidgeted with his hands as he stood at ease at the helm of this paltry transport that he was anxious around her. Was it fear or a crush-- and was there any meaningful difference? Don’t worry, Maro. You’re a grand admiral to me, Emic cackled inside her own head, faceless behind her helmet. She got a coveted look at those precious brown eyes as he turned to face her.

“Miss Lai--”

“Call me that again and I will flay you.”

“My deepest apologies,” Manu blurted out, stifling a flinch, punishing himself for his informality. “Chief, um--” he quickly thumbed through the dossier he was given for this operation. “Hastur. Is there anything I can do to make your command more effective?”

Let me spoil you. “Call the marines to parade. I want to inspect them.”

Maro nodded and delivered the order over intercom, as the King of Kings and the starry- and maybe teary-eyed commander took toward the hangars to see what they were landing with. “Alright, I’ll be with the boarding party. I’ll relay orders to the wings from there. You and your transports just cover our landing.”

Maro already knew better than to question orders. That didn’t stop him from doing it, though. “Are you sure? It would be much safer to command from the ship.”

“I don’t really do ‘safe’, Maro,” Emic said as she stepped out of the turbolift and into the hangar. She saw an array before her. Sith marines, plasteel combat armor resplendent under the artificial lights. Several platoons, each with a different uniform-- the mercenaries. She saw the colors of the Weequay Violet Legion, the cosmopolitan Sun Titans, and the ever-feared Gamorrean Glaive Company. She looked upon her army, and was satisfied. There were enough troops to fill a wing of Firesprays with death awaiting the Imperials.

“You know how to pick ‘em, Maro. Good job.”

“Actually, I didn’t--”

“Take a compliment.”

The first battlegroup of the 1st Fleet had jumped to hyperspace from the Dathomir asteroid field. It soared through the blinding tunnel of light, it's heading set for Kushibuh. The captain of the Grey Wolf had made sure all ships and fighter wings were prepared, and had received hails from all ships that were accounted for.

Decker Willo had been picked out to lead the fighter wings into combat. After having been selected some time ago for a fighter team of TIE Avengers, this was the first time he would be leading such a force. And...he was rather overwhelmed. With pride, with anxious thoughts, among many other feelings. He had never had the responsibility of this many lives before...

A klaxon sounded announcing their soon arrival to their target. Decker donned his gear and helmet in the flight hangar of the Grey Wolf, signalling to his squadron that it was time to prep for their exit out of hyperspace.

Maro’s holocommunicator went off in the hangar. The little blue man said, in an urgent tone, “Lieutenant Commander, the Imperials are jumping out from hyperspace!”

Emic looked to Maro, who returned her gaze, seeking her go-ahead. “Your time’s come, Maro. Launch the fighters.”

With the press of a button, the 1st Razorfighter Wing spewed out of the underbelly of the Exar Dreadnaught, Eclipse. Followed by a horde unmatched, blocking out Kushibah’s star in a flurry of screaming doom, each fighter roaring through space like a monster craving the blood of TIEs. They entered a holding pattern, hissing like snakes as they waited to snipe. Emic tapped her rifle to the ground, signaling the mercs and soldiers to load into the Firesprays. Once the ranks had filed in, she followed the 3rd Platoon into their Firespray, shutting the door behind her with an obscured grin.

Decker Willo went about flipping all systems through a quick check of his TIE Avenger, working with the flight crew to ensure he was ready for take off. Several others around prepared themselves for launch, as they would be the first wave.

The battlegroup jumped out of hyperspace. A couple of Carrack's, a Loronar and couple of Nebulon's pulled up the front, a Correllian gunship positioned for fighter screening. Two SD's and an Interdictor brought up the rear with a Lancer for extra fighter screening to the rear. The captain of the Grey Wolf gave the order to launch fighters.

Decker pushed his fighter out of the hangar, organizing the deployed fighter wings into formations. For the time being half the interceptor wing and half the avenger wing had been deployed, with two bomber wings and a skipray wing on standby. They would be launched in due time.