Telan Desaria
Jun 18th, 2003, 04:36:22 PM
Deep Space – Near Adumar
The spoken words hit Admiral Sokolov as a salvo of missiles flaring across his shields. Oddly, though, as the realization took hold, the warship ahead did not fire. Instead it maneuvered in such a way that the previously-thought unaligned freightor could dock with its dorsal hull. There, it looked much like a part of the dorsal superstructure.
“ Drop aft shields; reroute power to all bow emitters. All crews ready for action. Helm, evasive action. Bring us across his path!”
The Admiral sat there as his faithful flag Captain commenced the action without his orders. Both knew what was required of the ship and its crew. Both also knew that a fully operational Imperial III-class Star Destroyer could outmatch an aging Invincible-class Cruiser.
Unfortunately, the cruiser was not as typical as the Discrepant’s crew would have liked. After the engagement which had occurred but three days before, the Destroyer was not fully operational.
“ Range?”
“ We’re within effective range, sir. A good ways in from standoff fire.”
Lasson smiled at the tactical officer and looked forward with a snare. “ Then give her a taste of fire, Lieutenant. Bring her arrogance down a notch.”
There was little need to reply, as both the tactical officer’s hands worked furiously to dispatch commands to the commanders of weapons batteries throughout the ship. No time had passed before burly gunners and their mates made the final preparation or fire – connecting the battery power source to the weapon itself. Milliseconds turned over and the guns were charged. All clear lights in the Battery Commander’s station blinked green, and the command to fire was given. No rock could be felt as the guns were fired as the Destroyer’s inertial dampeners working at full capacity.
Officers and crew watched from the command tower as batteries on both flanks fired a salvo at their tormentor. A feeling of spite, an ominous feeling of pride washed over the Star Destroyer’s operators as the first blasts impacted with the other ship’s shields. Dozens of small explosions flared up along the length of the hull as energy combusted into flame.
“ Cease fire, all guns. All batteries commence linked fire – independent.”
“ Ay-“
The order to continue the onslaught in a more concentrated manner was not confirmed by the tactical officer whose voice trailed off into nothingness as several icons began appearing on one of three monitors he dutifully watched.
“ Admiral. Captain. She’s bringing her shields on-line now.”
Lasson turned aft from the catwalk and drilled an angry glare into his commander. “ The shields must have been up! No cruiser that old could have withstood a minute long defilade on armor alone!”
Sokolov unsteepled his fingers and tightly clenched his hands on the arms of his command chair. Imperceptibly he gulped down a breath of air. “ No, Captain, she could have. We are dealing with a heavily modified craft, and we knew that. That is why she hasn’t fired back. That is why she did not maneuver. The Captain of that ship wants us to know we have underestimated his ship, wants us to see that he can dispatch us with ease.”
“ Orders, sir?” asked the Discrepant’s executive officer. Perspiration oozed from every pore in the man’s forehead.
Sokolov tightened his grip, if possible. “ He wants to kill us, he will have to work at it. Engineering – all power, auxiliary and unneeded flows are to be routed through the shield generators. Keep them up as long as possible. Guns – continual fire, independent by battery. Helm – put us in line with them and run us past at best speed. Arc to port so we don’t give her our aft as we turn.”
“ Aye sir!” came the replies. Lasson swallowed hard as well and flexed with his wounded arm. He had always supported his Admiral, and would do so until his death. Despite this unflinching loyalty, he was resigned that such demise would come sooner than expected.
The spoken words hit Admiral Sokolov as a salvo of missiles flaring across his shields. Oddly, though, as the realization took hold, the warship ahead did not fire. Instead it maneuvered in such a way that the previously-thought unaligned freightor could dock with its dorsal hull. There, it looked much like a part of the dorsal superstructure.
“ Drop aft shields; reroute power to all bow emitters. All crews ready for action. Helm, evasive action. Bring us across his path!”
The Admiral sat there as his faithful flag Captain commenced the action without his orders. Both knew what was required of the ship and its crew. Both also knew that a fully operational Imperial III-class Star Destroyer could outmatch an aging Invincible-class Cruiser.
Unfortunately, the cruiser was not as typical as the Discrepant’s crew would have liked. After the engagement which had occurred but three days before, the Destroyer was not fully operational.
“ Range?”
“ We’re within effective range, sir. A good ways in from standoff fire.”
Lasson smiled at the tactical officer and looked forward with a snare. “ Then give her a taste of fire, Lieutenant. Bring her arrogance down a notch.”
There was little need to reply, as both the tactical officer’s hands worked furiously to dispatch commands to the commanders of weapons batteries throughout the ship. No time had passed before burly gunners and their mates made the final preparation or fire – connecting the battery power source to the weapon itself. Milliseconds turned over and the guns were charged. All clear lights in the Battery Commander’s station blinked green, and the command to fire was given. No rock could be felt as the guns were fired as the Destroyer’s inertial dampeners working at full capacity.
Officers and crew watched from the command tower as batteries on both flanks fired a salvo at their tormentor. A feeling of spite, an ominous feeling of pride washed over the Star Destroyer’s operators as the first blasts impacted with the other ship’s shields. Dozens of small explosions flared up along the length of the hull as energy combusted into flame.
“ Cease fire, all guns. All batteries commence linked fire – independent.”
“ Ay-“
The order to continue the onslaught in a more concentrated manner was not confirmed by the tactical officer whose voice trailed off into nothingness as several icons began appearing on one of three monitors he dutifully watched.
“ Admiral. Captain. She’s bringing her shields on-line now.”
Lasson turned aft from the catwalk and drilled an angry glare into his commander. “ The shields must have been up! No cruiser that old could have withstood a minute long defilade on armor alone!”
Sokolov unsteepled his fingers and tightly clenched his hands on the arms of his command chair. Imperceptibly he gulped down a breath of air. “ No, Captain, she could have. We are dealing with a heavily modified craft, and we knew that. That is why she hasn’t fired back. That is why she did not maneuver. The Captain of that ship wants us to know we have underestimated his ship, wants us to see that he can dispatch us with ease.”
“ Orders, sir?” asked the Discrepant’s executive officer. Perspiration oozed from every pore in the man’s forehead.
Sokolov tightened his grip, if possible. “ He wants to kill us, he will have to work at it. Engineering – all power, auxiliary and unneeded flows are to be routed through the shield generators. Keep them up as long as possible. Guns – continual fire, independent by battery. Helm – put us in line with them and run us past at best speed. Arc to port so we don’t give her our aft as we turn.”
“ Aye sir!” came the replies. Lasson swallowed hard as well and flexed with his wounded arm. He had always supported his Admiral, and would do so until his death. Despite this unflinching loyalty, he was resigned that such demise would come sooner than expected.