Chapter 34: Battle

The dark figure loomed over the surrounding officers.

The lifeless oculars of the helmet stared intently into the far reaches of space. Gauntleted arms, clad in black armor, remained crossed over his chest, devoid of any stray movement. An unshakeable, somber confidence radiated from Vader.

This presence was made even more stark by the contrast of the officers scurrying to and fro, their voices a frantic blur of hurried reports and clipped commands. Amidst this chaos, only the Dark Lord of the Sith remained impassive.

The reason for the commotion was obvious. Barely discernible yet, the Separatist fleet hung in the planet's orbit, and their numbers were daunting. No fewer than several hundred combat frigates, dreadnoughts, and capital ships awaited us, ready to grind our forces into cosmic dust.

I watched the frantic activity from a shadowed corner of the flagship’s bridge. It was the perfect vantage point. If things turned south, I could quickly reach the nearest hangar and jump into a starfighter.

It was a pity Kamma had been stationed on another ship. We could have discussed the flow of battle in real-time rather than after the fact. Out of all the Acolytes dispatched for this mission, only two were aboard the flagship: myself and Tifa. I had no desire to cross paths with that particular woman any more than necessary.

A hollow, synthesized voice broke through my thoughts.

"All batteries to battle stations. Close the distance."

Well, we would soon see what two weeks of preparation were worth. It was unlikely this had all come together so quickly, of course. I was certain this was the result of painstaking work by logisticians, tacticians, and combat officers. To marshal such a force in such a short window required a monumental effort.

This was especially impressive considering ships were needed on other fronts—to suppress planetary uprisings and guard strategically vital resources. The list went on. Yet, the Empire had managed to scramble a hundred and fifty Star Destroyers.

And while a single Star Destroyer might be worth a dozen Separatist vessels, a cold, cloying fear still gripped my insides. It was no surprise; the closer we drew, the more clearly we saw the sheer scale of the enemy host meeting us. Perhaps on paper our armada should prevail, but victory here depended on the quality of command, the crew, and a thousand other variables.

The realization that I could do nothing to influence the outcome of this battle was disheartening. I had no desire to plunge into the thick of it in a starfighter. Even from here, I could see thousands, if not tens of thousands, of small craft swarming between the enemy capital ships. Like massive clouds of mosquitoes, they waited for the chance to latch onto a victim and bleed it dry.

The most I could do was take a seat as a gunner and fire until the ordnance ran dry. But doing so would prevent me from reaching a hangar in time if we needed to evacuate.

"Commence the attack."

The mask-distorted voice rang out like a death knell in the spacious command center. Constant shouting was replaced by a quiet, focused intensity.

With a low hum, the green turbolaser fire of our ships surged forward. The first coordinated volley instantly disabled several corvettes and frigates, but it wasn't enough.

I could hardly keep track of the events that followed; too much was happening at once.

A blistering hail of fire from the entire Separatist fleet slammed into us, but the shields held. However, the slightly agitated voice of an officer repeatedly reported a drop in shield integrity.

"Divert seventy percent power to the forward shields."

The return fire took out more and more ships, yet it felt as though the enemy's numbers never dwindled.

I felt that cursed sense of déjà vu again. It was just like that corridor: as soon as one was cut down, another took its place, an endless, shoreless tide.

Squadrons of TIE Fighters entered the fray, attempting to intercept the incoming waves of Separatist droids. From the bridge, I watched as numerous explosions flared from the collision of these two forces. But there were too many enemies. Our pilots were forced to circle near the capital ships to provide cover; otherwise, they would simply be torn apart.

A crippled Separatist starship began to spiral directly toward us. In a matter of seconds, it would breach the bridge’s viewpoint! My eyes widened in terror.

The wreckage froze just meters away from us, halted mid-air. Lord Vader, his hand outstretched, was already looking elsewhere. With a sharp motion from the Sith, the crumpled heap of metal was hurled into a nearby enemy. A direct hit.

In those few seconds, several more enemy ships were destroyed. Slowly but surely, the planetary defense began to buckle. Small gaps started appearing in the seemingly solid line of defense.

"Lord Vader! Multiple unidentified signatures dropping out of hyperspace!"

New Separatist ships began to emerge at the edge of our sensors. It happened so fast that no one had time to react. Within moments, a coordinated strike from the fresh enemy reinforcements literally tore through the Star Destroyers whose flank shields were weakened.

"Order the fleet. Divert thirty percent power to aft shields. Pivot the entire right flank to face the enemy. Dispatch half of the reserve interceptors to intercept."

"As you command, Lord Vader!"

The battle continued to escalate rapidly. The Separatist reinforcements had turned the tide; now we were the ones forced onto the defensive, struggling to keep the fleet from being decimated.

Several vanguard ships were holding on by a thread. They had strayed too far from the main formation, and all enemy fire had concentrated on them. Another minute and they would be gone.

"Order the vanguard. Execute Maneuver Three. Launch all craft."

Suddenly, the ships, already trailing sparks, rolled over, exposing their undamaged ventral hulls to the incoming fire. All shield power was concentrated on protecting the hangars, from which bombers swarmed out like a cloud of angry bees.

Some were shot down instantly, but the majority broke through to the enemy’s front line.

A second later, our ships broke their formation and plunged into the enemy ranks, charging through the heavy blaster fire. They flew in such a way that many enemy shots intended for them missed and struck their own allies, compounding the damage caused by our sudden maneuver.

A synchronized missile volley wiped out nearly a quarter of the enemy vanguard, leaving nothing but drifting debris.

"TIE Fighters, provide cover for our bombers. All ships, protect the retreating units."

However, despite our successful strike, we were being pushed back on the right flank. A crippled Separatist frigate rammed the bridge of one of our Star Destroyers, taking a powerful enemy down with it. In the moment before impact, it looked more like a charred hunk of metal than a ship, but it had enough velocity to obliterate the command center, and subsequently, the entire Destroyer.

Seeing the effectiveness of this tactic, every enemy ship now attempted to inflict maximum damage with its own hull before succumbing to destruction.

Not all of them reached the main line, exploding on approach, but those that broke through left truly horrific devastation in their wake.

As I watched the battle, I didn't immediately notice a hologram of a familiar Rear Admiral appear beside Vader. Amidst the organized chaos, he remained as impassive as ever.

"Lord Vader. The Admiral's ship has been destroyed. In accordance with your directive, I am assuming command of the task force. Requesting permission to execute Maneuver Forty-Five."

The Sith paused for only a second before granting his consent.

The battle seesawed until several massive Separatist transports began to close in. Previously, they had stayed at a distance, spewing out droid starfighters that had caused our fleet significant trouble. But now, something had changed.

Our fire focused on the approaching vessels, but their shields proved unexpectedly resilient. They didn't attack; they simply accelerated toward us at maximum speed.

"Sir, multiple enemy boarding craft detected."

Sure enough, the tactical display showed a multitude of cone-shaped boarding pods closing in on our fleet. Dense defensive fire knocked them down, but there were simply too many.

The tactic of burying the enemy under a mountain of scrap was beginning to look less like desperation and more like a strategy.

Before my eyes, they burrowed into the hulls of the Star Destroyers, delivering lethal machines into the heart of our ships.

The comm-link on my wrist began to pulse with an urgent red light.

"I’m here, Grand Inquisitor."

"Proceed to the hangar immediately. The enemy advance must be halted."

"Understood."

Bolting from my spot, I sprinted through the corridors.

I was fortunate to reach the hangar quickly, where a battle was already raging. Droplet-shaped B2 super battle droids were pushing the Stormtroopers back into the ship’s interior.

"Soldiers, cover me!"

My lightsaber felt familiarly cold in my hand. I deflected a few bolts, and in an instant, I was in front of the first enemy. A crimson blur, and the bisected chassis began to slump to the floor.

Using the Force, I hurled the wreckage into a group of enemies. Some were merely knocked off their feet, but others were struck in their vulnerable points and stayed down.

Continuing the momentum, I thrust my hands forward. The Force flowed through me, erupting outward. The few droids that had managed to enter the corridor were blown back. However, some of them began to stand back up.

Durable bastards. B1s were much easier to deal with.

With a burst of speed, I lunged forward and impaled a droid before it could react. It was only then that the true scale of the breach became clear.

Several hundred droids were marching through the corridors from this hangar alone, pushing deeper into the ship. More boarding craft were puncturing the hull every moment.

The three out of ten that had slipped through, which had seemed like a success from the bridge, were proving to be a massive problem down here.

Dozens of blasters leveled at me. After deflecting the initial volley, I was forced to retreat back into the corridor. Spotting a convenient alcove, I ducked behind it to catch my breath and devise some sort of plan. Brute force wasn't going to win this.

"Sir, what are your orders?"

A Stormtrooper with captain’s insignia appeared beside me.

"Improvise. How well can your men shoot?" I had to shout to be heard over the roar of blaster fire and explosions.

"They were some of the best in the academy, sir. They’ve survived several combat operations."

"Great. Here’s the plan..."

An explosion drowned me out, and for a few seconds, my hearing vanished completely.

"What did you say, sir?!"

"I’ll draw their fire and lure the droids into the corridor. You pick them off. Can you handle that?"

"Consider it done."

"If one of your men hits me in the back, he’d better shoot himself on the spot."

Judging by the Stormtrooper’s emotions, he took my words deeply to heart.

"Tell your men to take up positions. I’ll distract them."

I leaped out, once again standing alone against the droid swarm. I deflected a shot back at a droid, but it didn't have the expected effect. Cursed armor.

I had to spin and weave to avoid the blaster bolts. Despite having practiced Soresu recently, I still lacked true mastery. My more familiar Makashi and Shien styles weren't particularly effective here. If not for my precognition and enough room to maneuver, I would certainly be dead by now.

Several droids that stepped forward fell by my hand. The rest, identifying me as the primary threat, began to close in. Perfect, I had their attention.

Closing the distance wasn't an option; the fire was too dense. If I let my guard down for a second, I’d be riddled with holes. I had to yield the corridor to the metal soldiers, step by step.

So far, I managed to hold them without drawing too heavily on anger and rage. Those are for the hunt, not for the shield.

Through the blood pounding in my temples, I heard the commander’s shout.

"We’re ready, sir!"

"Then fire, you idiot!"

Now blaster bolts were flying from both sides, and I had to work twice as hard to avoid being hit by friendly fire. But the support successfully distracted the enemy.

Now!

Summoning all the fury I possessed, I surged forward. My blade became a singular streak of light.

Every enemy required only one strike, which flowed seamlessly into the next. The lethal elegance of the Second Form was made manifest through me.

I ducked, letting a metal fist swing over my head, and bisected the droid that dared threaten my life. My danger sense flared. An attack from behind. Even without looking, I knew exactly where to strike.

A fluid, yet lightning-fast pivot, and several enemies in front of me fell, sliced in half. Now I was in position. A droid that failed to react was blown into scrap by a Force-blast directed straight into its center.

It’s so much easier when the enemy only comes from one direction. Practically a fairy tale.

The skirmish lasted several minutes, but my squad reclaimed the corridor meter by meter from the advancing mechanical tide.

We reached the end of the hallway. Now, I had to change tactics.

Two motionless metal husks rose into the air and hovered before me. For a time, this would serve as a shield. In a place where enemies could be lurking anywhere, improvised armor didn't hurt. However, the precaution proved unnecessary.

In the time we had spent fighting, the situation in the hangar had shifted. Most of the battle droids had dispersed into the corridors, and only a few dozen were still offloading from the transports.

"Soldiers, eliminate them all."

It took less than a minute to gun down the remaining enemy units.

Finally, the room was cleared. The Stormtroopers moved among the wreckage, occasionally finishing off any droids that miraculously still showed signs of life. A few men sat by the wall as medics bandaged their wounds.

In the heat of battle, I hadn't been able to assess my squad, so I took a look now. Not many, thirty men, not counting the wounded. But in corridor fighting, numbers aren't everything. What matters is that they shoot straight.

The hangar smelled of acrid metal mixed with the stench of scorched armor and flesh. It was a grim sight: dozens of bodies scattered across the floor and even more droid debris.

I didn't even want to think about what was happening on the ships that didn't have Acolytes or Inquisitors aboard.

"Commander, I need a sitrep."

"One moment, sir."

I couldn't hear what he was saying to command, but the tension radiating from him was palpable.

"We’re ordered to move immediately to support the main force. The enemy is breaking through toward the reactor."

"Has the fleet taken losses from the boarding parties?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Damn it. Let’s move."

And once again, it was a race against time. If the enemy reached the reactor, the ship was finished. I certainly wouldn't be able to reach a hangar then. Driven by dark thoughts, I pushed my pace even further, though I periodically had to stop to wait for the lagging soldiers.

Delaying proved to be our salvation.

The metallic clang of footsteps echoed from a parallel corridor, and I saw a column of mechanical soldiers passing us.

Curse it!

A crimson arc, and a droid fell before it knew what was happening. Dozens of barrels swung toward me. Well, I certainly had their attention now.

"To arms!"

The dance of death began anew. Blaster bolts grazed past my skin, missing by mere millimeters. The seemingly endless stream of enemies showed no sign of slowing.

However, it didn't stop me. A body forged by grueling training was capable of fighting for long stretches, and the Force amplified my capabilities.

A forward lunge, and my red blade burned through a droid. The remaining enemies fell almost in unison, mowed down by my squad.

"Commander, where did they come from? This corridor leads to the bridge. As far as I know, there were no reports of enemy movement here on any channel."

"I don't know, sir. Either they changed direction or they weren't spotted. But it’s strange; surveillance is still functional and transmitting data."

"Then they either destroyed the cameras, or..."

A thought flickered in my mind, and I didn't like it one bit. Could there be someone on the ship coordinating the enemy’s movements? Unlikely, but it was something to tell my Master later.

Regardless, that wasn't the main problem now. Lord Vader was on the bridge; I doubted a thousand droids would be enough to take him down.

"Report our engagement across all channels. Three minutes to check ammo and patch the wounded. Move!"

We arrived just in time. It seemed the remaining droids had concentrated their efforts on breaking through to the reactor, and the defenders were clearly overwhelmed. Following our new plan, we emerged from a side corridor directly into the enemy column.

After dispatching a few "clankers" with quick sweeps of my blade, I retreated back into the corridor. Why change a tactic that had already proven effective? Those who chased me were quickly gunned down by the soldiers in their pre-set positions. After that, it was only a matter of time before we wiped out the rest.

Caught in a pincer maneuver, they had no chance. If they had reached the reactor, it might have been different, but we were faster.

"Sir, all sectors cleared. Awaiting new orders." The unit commander stood at attention before me. His armor was no longer pristine white; scorch marks from blaster fire were visible in several places.

"At ease, soldier. Your job is done for now. Get the wounded to the medbay and prepare for a second wave. We may have to engage again."

"Yes, sir."

Saluting, he turned and hurried toward his men.

Once again, I was left to my own devices.

My sprint through the corridors ended on the bridge, with the motionless figure of the Dark Lord at its center. It seemed he hadn't moved at all.

While I had been busy dismantling droids, the situation had shifted dramatically. We were winning; even I could see that.

The right flank had completely shattered its opposition, leaving nothing but a graveyard of debris. They had now folded back into the main formation.

Separatist starfighters were no longer swarming as densely. Where the ratio had been twenty-to-one against us, it was now barely seven-to-one.

Some of the enemy frigates and cruisers had chosen to flee the battlefield and were already beyond the reach of our batteries.

The mechanical voice began issuing commands again.

"Concentrate all fire on the center of the enemy formation. Destroy them. Ignore the stragglers; focus on the final defensive line. On my mark: Acclamators forward. Deploy landing craft. They are to clear the landing zones for the main force. Provide them with cover. Prepare..."

The comm-link on my wrist blinked demandingly.

Damn it, it looks like they’re sending me straight into hell…