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Telan Desaria
Aug 27th, 2002, 11:48:15 PM
Two Years Ago - When the Vong Struck


Torool, the Char'dil System, Thyferra Sector


The IX Destroyer Squadron, 2nd Division, Thyferra Sector Fleet, had been docked for repairs for over a month. Since a border skirmish near Ord Cantrell with suspiciously well-armed raiders, the squadron's three Fire-class Frigates had required a complete refit, their hulls pock marked and laced with torpedo hits.


Captain Arimen had repoted the incident to command and been given the first open berth in the Sector repair yards.


Rumor had it that an entire battle group of four squadrons had been sent by Fleet Admiral Desaria to hunt down their base.


The Animosity, command Destroyer for the squadron, sat off the small orbital repair yards, with two Victory-class cousins and a Hammer-class Cruiser around it. What else remained had been gobbled up by the Reserve Deployment Group for the time being.


All told, Divisional Command's abrupt annexing of the squadron's support craft was not a bad thing, for a reserve squadron was put into the IX's place, though weaking the RDG.


" Captain, Yard Master Ventix is hailing you."


The Captain nodded, and a textual message was displayed on the hand hold of his command chair. He relayed the good news.


" Commander, the Frigate Nantanna is completed with repairs. She is being launched in an hour. The Mertille will roll out threed days from now. It appears we may be back in the line in a week."


" It's about damn time!" He saw the look of his captain, annoyed but humored. He quickly added," Sir."


* * *

The Frigate Natanna emerged from her moorings, large cables and gangways falling aside as the warship exposed itself to space once again. First her prow, then her mid section...


The ship never made it more than fifty meters out when the yard and her unshielded hull were buffeted by hundreds of missile-like organic projectiles. The yards erupted in chaos, beams and support structures torn apart by violent explosions. The Frigate was hit as well, her reactor quickly penetrated. Down she slid, colliding with the station then enveloping both Way Four and the
ship herself in a brilliant double conflagration.


Both other ships, unaware and defenseless, met the same fate. The cloud of debris left in their wake slowly expanded from all that remained of the thousand-meter yard complex, itself on the first leg of a graceful plummet into the planet below.


" Battlestations!"


" All batteries fire at will!"


" Deploy all TIEs!"


" Incoming!!!!"


Before the potent, yet dangerously unmaneuverable Destroyers could bring their broadsides to bear on their unprovoked attackers, dozens of Lancer-sized mobile rocks were among them, as well as hundreds of small, coral-grown fighters.


From the images flashed on the viewpanes and the ships whirring past the bridge, it was obvious as to their assailants' allegiance.


They were independent.


The were the Yuuzhan Vong.

* * *


Only two squadrons of TIE Defenders made it away from Torool in one piece. Their winged counterparts and larger carriers had been slagged before the pilots' very eyes. Before the engagement had been decided, over fifty large enemy ships were in the system, with dozens of smaller craft and thousands of deployed corralskippers.


While the Imperials had given more than they got, it was not enough against the numbers the Vong had arrived in.


There was another threat to be wary of now.


But the Empire would know.


The TIEs later arrived at the staging area of the Fifth Division, Flag flotilla of Sector Kommandant, Fleet Admiral Desaria.

Telan Desaria
Aug 29th, 2002, 07:34:48 PM
Coruscant Sector


Vice Admiral Hans der Bloomer, commander of Division III, Corsucant Sector Fleet, sat quietly on the bridge of his flagship, the Executor-class Super Star Destroyer Omega. The day had been long, battle drills lasting for the bulk of three watches.


On many occassions throughout the last four hours, the Admiral had almost fallen asleep without the constant droning of simulated maneuvers and action reports to keep him awake.


A lithe young Petty Officer approached him and saluted, extending a datapad before disappearing into the mass of milling command officers. Reluctantly, the Admiral brought the pad's digital surface into view and began reading a readiness report prepared by the ship's morale officer. Without wanring, a slight vibrating began to pulse through the lengths of the division's flagship. Such was usually the beginning of a jump into hyperspace.


There was, however, no hyperjump authorized causing the Vice Admiral to jolt to his feet.



" What's going on? Lieutenant!"


The ship's watch commander looked up from the port crew pit. A look of horror and desparation was evident on his face. " Unknown, Sir."


The vibrations lessened slightly and then rose with a frightening crescendo. One look beyond the prow of mighty dagger-shaped warship revealed a horrid scene. The sky above the metropolitan world of Brentaal rapidly filled with small fighter-sized vessels, half as many more barely larger than a stock frieghtor, and perhaps a dozen sizeable vessels spherical in design but asteroid-like in construction.


" Sir?" the Lieutenant asked, turning his Admiral in hope. As was custom, the flag officer proved to be a rock of calmity. What he was feeling interally was irrelevant, for he had to show no fear before his men.


" A suprise indeed. Well, they have arrived at our doorstep, let us oblige in the fesitivities. Shields up, arm all weapons and load all projectile batteries. Launch the assault wings and TIEs, emergency patten Alpha-5."


All pretense of an exercise had been abandoned. III Division's Reserve Deployment Group and Command Squadron had been lucky enough to find themselves arrayed in battle formation. Were it otherwise, the mass of ships might have found themselves unable to take advantage of their sister ship's abilities.


In moments, as the Vong warships closed to Brentaal, blastboats and gunboats emerged from launch bays, swarms of fighters at their sides. Five wedges were formed in the midst of the flotilla, each four squadrons strong. What squadrons were not involved in the grouping brought themselves close in the capital warships in picket positions.


" Bring us at them, Lieutenant. And find Captain Dissal!!!"


The time of the task force's orbit had brought them thankfully close to one of two Golan III Defense Platforms above the planet. From its long range torpedo batteries pulsed waves of heavy projectiles that would explode at a preprogrammed range sending tons of white-hot shrapnel seering through the organic skins of the attacker.


Many of the fightrs fell pray to that type of flak fire as more and more of the Imperial vessels joined in the concert of death. The ubiquitous neon of Imperial energy weapons found its entrance on cue, filling the spaces left between missiles salvoes with a sea of deadly light.


" Send my compliments to Grand Moff Sevon and inform him of our situation. Reqest reinforcements. In the mean time, bring in Destroyer squadrons 23, 24, and 25. Let us not make this easy for them."


The massive Super Star Destroyer yawed to starboard and let loose a mighty hail of fire, over three hundred weapon emplacements contributing to their symphony of destruction.


The bomber detachments and assault wing moved forward to distract the many corvette-like ships the Vong warmaster had seen fit to deploy in advance.

- -

The Vong woud not take that world easily, if at all. But caught the Empire unawares, it had.

Indeed, the entire galaxy.

Telan Desaria
Oct 9th, 2002, 08:21:45 AM
Imperial Executor-class Super Star Destroyer Decisive

Flagship, Thyferra Sector Fleet


" Are you pleased, Admiral?"


The powerful figure of Fleet Admiral Telan Desaria Desaria looked down the polished black table at his dinner guest, another officer of the line. Between them sat a dozen plates of rare meets, dishes of acquarian cuisine, and one very full bottle of an amber fluid emblazoned with the angular crest of the Raenorian winery.


Admiral Taylor Millard, Acting Commander of the Guild Sector Fleet sat with his hands steepled before him glaring down at the painstakingly prepared meal. Doubtless as a result of spending years in the depths of the Unknowns, the Admiral was still adjusting to life in the mainstream of Imperial Society, and the Fleet as well.


" It is a fine meal."


" I am glad you like it. This vintage was grown at the family estate on Centaur. Only one shipment survived a raid by the Vong, this being among the last ten bottles. My father holds the rest."


Millard seemed to glower but then lightened to the mood. Desaria wanted nothing more - or less - than the friendship of another sector group commander. The other was a strategic engima from what the Centuari nobleman had read. Admiral Millard had proven his resilience and flair when he was pacifying the farthest reaches of Imperial Space with fewer troops and ships than he needed.


Further dissection of the man was to prove impossible as the Hand of Fate had chosen to intervene.


The conference room directly forward of the Command Tower had been trimmed with wood and greenery to give it the appearence of a more planetary setting. Only one small corridor was accesible as an entrance and exit, itself flanked on both its cruxs by a pair of imposing Army guards. Through a intimidating gauntlet strode a lanly yet tall Naval ensign wearing the single gold-braided shoulder cord of an Imperial Chief Adjutant.


" Admiral, Lieutenant Mikhail Waroen."


The somber and wholly emotionless Millard nodded in the aide's general direction as he clicked his heels smartly.


" Baron-Admiral, I regret to disturb you, but an urgent message has been received from High Command. A Delta-level Alert has been issued to all formations. Sizeable attacks have been mounted against Brentaal, Tholantos, Fondor, and Orivall. Our Sector reports only a few small-scale skirmishes though we have lost communication with Bespin, Hoth, and Eriadu."


Millard took a sip of his finely-aged wine. " Cause?"


Lieutenant Waroen inhaled sharply and gave a most horrid reply that sent the Fleet Admiral's fork driving at frightening speed through his main course then the commander himself to his command bridge.


" The Vong."