Interference

[Travis North]

It seems only a natural pressence, an Imperial cruiser seemingly unmoving against a background of stars, one of the most common sights to be seen in the known galaxy. However time is always moving, and in this setting a lonely Imperial starship is out of place, for it is in the Bothan perifery. A sector of space now hostile to Imperial rule and any who fly the glorious banner of the, now deceased, Emperor Palpatine.

This cruiser, though, does have a purpose to be where it is. It has a mission, along with three other Imperial vessels, each at a different point along the perifery of Bothan space. This mission being the first of many in... Operation Blackout.

Aboard the Carrack-class Cruiser Tren, of the 213th Battle Squadron.

Staring into space through the mighty Carrack's largest viewport was Captain Morris Indoran. Sixty-one years old, with a welth of battle experience just beginning to grey his healthy brown hair. Morris Indoran was one of the eldest officers in the Imperial Navy, having served the Emperor and the Chancellors before him in the time of the Galactic Republic. He was now always smiling in his old age, content with the knowledge that his retirement was near. He would still continue to serve with honor, just like he had when he first stepped aboard a ship of the Fleet.

Morris looked out at the galaxy he had roamed for nearly forty-five years from the highest command deck aboard the Tren. His eyes scanning the endless void for his objective, one of many. Something caught his eyes, twinkling far in the distance, not a star. Too close for that. Morris then shook his head, he would wait for it to come into view.

A young liutenant strolled up to where the Captain was star gazing. He put on a stern face and walked with military percision up the Captain, hoping the aging man would notice him. His goal was to earn the respect of his commander. The lieutenant was about to speak when Morris returned to his being.

Morris spoke suddenly and in a loud voice, "We've seen thirty-three satelites in the past four days." His aim being to startle the young officer. "Damn these Bothans like to stay connected. Don't think we could convince the Commodore to just let us blow the rest up either." He turned and laughed noting that he had indeed shook the lieutenant, he managed to catch a glimpse of the datapad in the young man's hand. "How many service packages do we have left Lieutenant?"

Feeling like a fool the lieutenant immidiately stood at attention, just like he did in the academy. Having regained his composure the he looked to his pad. His eyes darting over it, skimming the line he'd memorized only moments before, "Twelve, Sir."

"Think that'll be enough? We still have one day and half of recon. We've also recieved word that both Dusk and Dawn have requested additional units. They aren't Carracks though." Morris chuckled to himself.

Tartan-class although more adept at anti-starfighter combat, lacked the luxury and speed Carracks offered. Morris' ship was a well rounded cruiser which could field it's own flight of fighters, and hold a moderate load of cargo. If the need arose it could even match a starfighter for speed, but taxing the engines in cases like that were ill advised.

Relaxed by the Captain's cheer, the lieutenant replied smiling and with enthusiasm, "I'm confident we have enough units and will remain on schedule. In fact the units already installed are showing overlap in the network. Bothans do seem to like tight security."

Although a current disadvantage it was good to know that there was an impressive network present, one both extensive and accurate. It was great news to the 213th when they found it could be easily modified for use as an Imperial network. It would save many credits, and quite a lot of time than it would if a new network had to be created.

Morris returned his lieutenant's cheerful smile with an exagerated frown. "That's not gonna be good for Commodore North's plans. Hopefully we can find a weakpoint or make one." Morris then became cheerful again, "Gotta respect those boys in R&D for the toys they've given us. Any more info on the patrol we picked up from the modified network? They onto us?"

Confused by the Captain's game the lieutenat just remained smiling while he spoke, "Negative. No signs of pursuit or follow up. But they know we're out here. The Bothans should think we're just a standard Imperial patrol. They know we wouldn't dare go into their space with single crafts. Not after we hit their Capitol the way we did."

Morris clapped his hands together and gave a big laugh before speaking, some of the younger bridge crew turned to regard the Captain they'd just been placed under with curiosity. "I did so enjoy reviewing that report. The Bothans are gonna be suprised when they find us on their door step... In force." Another laugh and his arm shot toward the viewport pointing blindly into space, right on target however. "There's another sat. Helm bring us close, and notify the EV team to suit up."

"Aye, Captain." said the helmsman as he began altering ships heading.

The lieutenant just stared at the distant satellite coming into view. Morris cheerfuly walked to the lift content with the knowledge he could still entertain the younger generations.

[Travis North]

With the EV team nearly finished installing the modifications on the satellite, everything was running smoothly for the crew of the Tren. Then from the direction of Bothan Space starfighters appeared. Instantly alerts sounded from the Tren's sensor station.

The station's operator swivilled around in his chair to inform the Captain of the situation. "Sir, sensor contacts. Squadron of Z95 Headhunters dropping out of hyperspace."

Morris stepped up behind the console to get a look at the screen. "What is their intent?"

The operator brought up a detailed screen of the fighters. "Intercept. Their weapon systems are powering up, they are also conducting active scans."

The communications officer piped up as Morris was reviewing the statistics on the screen. "Transmission from the lead starfighter. They're requesting communications."

"Open a channel..." Morris said stepping over to his command chair, "Greetings, this is Captain Indoran of the Imperial Cruiser Tren."

A static response came through a second later. "Captain Indoran, I am Flight Captain Tav Kre'pek of the Bothan Defense Force. You have entered Bothan Space and have commited an act of agression by tampering with our sensor grid. Cease your actions immidiately or you will be fired upon."

As the bothan spoke Morris took a seat in his chair and picked up the datapad he had left in his seat. He looked at it and sat in on the arm rest before giving the Flight Captain his response. "I'm afraid I cannot do that as it would go against my orders." "Failure to follow those orders would result in a court marshal under Imperial Law for myself."

Annoyed Kre'pek hissed back over the comm, "Imperial Law doesn't mean a thing here. Order your men to return aboard your ship or I will give the order to fire on them and your vessel. This is your final warning."

As casually as could possibly be said in the situation, and against every thought in the crew's minds, Morris spoke, "Very well. I will have my men return to the Tren."

"Excellent. Once they are aboard you will enter hyperspace. Kre'pek, out." And the communications went silent, along with any chatter on the bridge.

Morris looked around, all eyes were on him. He gave them all a big grin before speaking. "Communications, inform the EV team to return, then signal our Guardians. Prepare all crews for battle stations. Once the Guardians exit, open fire on the Headhunters."

At that all men cheered and prepared for the upcoming fight. To the Headhunters everything played out as they expected and the zero-g units were returning to their ship.

[Travis North]

Holding station just outside the Periphery were the Guardians, or rather Flight One of. As there mission had specified they remained powered down, floating in space to appear as debris. To pilots this was the worst duty a mission could have. No pilot ever liked to sit idle in a starfighter, they lived to fly. When the only active system, a transmission indicator with only one purpose, turned green, every pilot in the flight smiled.

The pilots immediately powered up their starfighters, triple solar arrayed TIE Defenders. The best superiority fighter currently fielded by the Imperial Starfleet. Each fighter was armed with four laser cannons, two ion cannons, and two warhead launcher equipped with concussion missiles, also, unlike most TIE starfighters, Defenders was equipped with shields and a hyperdrive. All these features combined to make the TIE Defender a deadly opponent in the stars, and their pilots knew it.

"Flight, form up and prepare to jump on my mark." That was Gaurdian One, Gerise Doyer, Wing Commander and leader of Guardian Squadron, "Set lasers to dual link mode, lets make quick work of the enemies when we get there."

Wing Commander Doyer had served, and survived, in the Starfighter Corps longer than any other pilot in the 213th Battle Squadron, save for the Commodore himself. Soon she would even surpass his record of service that is if the Commodore remained at his station in Fleet Command. There was always a rumor circulating among the pilots of the 213th that the Commodore, in the opening battle over Bothawui, would lead the assault from the cockpit of a starfighter. Whether the rumour was true or not Gerise was pleased to be serving under her former squadron commander once again.

Shortly after the order was given one of Doyer's wingman piped up, "Three here. Dual link function unavailable, computer malfunction. All other systems show green."

Annoyed, Gerise replied calmly keeping in mind that the fighter would still be able to blast away at the enemies. "Understood Four, get that checked out after the mission."

"Copy leader."

Two and Three fell into position behind their leader and were ready to make the jump into the engagement zone. Everything was now set and each pilot's heart began to race, soon they would enter the fight.

"All units, mark."

Within a blink of an eye the starfighters disappeared. They had entered hyperspace traveling at lightspeed, leaving the area where they had been a drift as peaceful debris to engage in battle as warriors under the Imperial banner.

[Travis North]

Red laser fire splashed against the deflectors of the Tren, a torrent of green laser extended out from the ship in return. The cumulative blasts vaporized an incoming Bothan Headhunter on an attack vector. The starfighter's wingmen broke off immediately after their leader was erased hoping they could avoid a similar fate. Instead they were pulverized each by a missile.

While the Bothans had been moving on their attack vector they had picked up a tail, the Guardians. All three Defenders in the flight had been waiting to attain a lock on their respective Headhunter but were just out of range until the Bothan flight broke. The Headhunters swung back around and flew into range of the Guardians' weapons. Within seconds the shrill sound of a missile lock filled the cockpits of both the Defenders and Headhunters, a split second later warheads were launched. The missiles raced out to the oncoming Bothans and tore through them, demolishing the fighters in short but impressive blasts.

In a matter of minutes the Bothan force had dropped from a full squadron of twelve down to nine. In another minute down to seven, two more fighters had been vaporized attempting a run at the Tren only to face a wall of heavy blaster fire from it's turrets. Despite the losses the Bothans were taking they continued the fight and managed to blast two of the Tren's own TIE fighters.

The dog fighting intensified as the Bothans split from their flight groups and acted independently. The decentralization would either benefit or ruin them. The Tren's gunners no longer focused on flight groups which could net multiple kills, but had to each cover a single firing field to protect the ship all around from multiple attack vectors which could come at once.

The tactic was working. The Tren's starfighter pilots hadn't been in enough battles to know formation ment survival. They had broken formations and like the Z95s, went independent. Unshielded and alone, they made easy targets and troublesome clouds of debris. The battle was beginning to even up in terms of combat strength. It was now the Tren and the Guardians against seven Bothans.

Lack of concentrated firepower left the Tren quite vulnerable and the Bothans took advantage of it, successfully attacking on multiple vectors twice without loss. A third time and the shields began to collapse, but the Bothan's had lost two in the run. One to a laser volley from the Tren and the other to sweep from the Guardians.

As the fourth run began the shields fell and the Tren started to take damage to the hull. A lucky blast had punched through a porthole exposing the interior of a room to vacuum. Unfortunately for the pilot the room was empty, no kills.

Once again cockpits sounded with missile locks. In under a minute, five Headhunters became two. Hopelessly outgunned it was decision time for the remaining Bothans. Continue the fight and avenge fallen comrades or jump out in retreat. The time taken to reach the decision however allowed the Guardians to achieve a final set of missile locks.

Two detonations and nothing of the Bothan squadron remained. Only the various amounts of debris from destroyed craft during the encounter were left to float in the infinity of space.

[Travis North]

Enemies vanquished the Tren was safe for the moment. Now the task of assessing and repairing damage had to be accomplished. Surprisingly the only victems of the Bothan guns were the Tren's pilots, easily replaced as their vehicles. Doyer and her flight shared a moment of silence for their fallen brothers before openning a comlink.

"Guardian One to Tren, area secure."

"Excellent work, remain on station and escort while we get repairs underway. After we have shields your flight is cleared for docking... Hanger room just became available. Good news however, this is the last satellite in the region and our tour is complete. We will be rejoining the rest of the 213th soon. Tren out."


This tour had been quiet until the final leg. Now that the Bothans had finally caught on, there was no doubt the other scout ships had encoutered a force this day. Perhaps alerted to this new threat the Bothans and the Alliance would start to mount a resistance. This conflict would get more interesting and far more deadly for the 213th.