Sailor Moon Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Crossover With Non-anime Series Fan Fiction ❯ Soldier, Sailor, Jedi, Sith ❯ Chapter 15 ( Chapter 16 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Maj_Scooter 
Anime/Manga: Sailor Moon Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Crossover With Non-anime Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi / Adventure / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 04.24.2007 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.6K | Visits: 501 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Sailor Moon Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Crossover With Non-anime Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi / Adventure / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 04.24.2007 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.6K | Visits: 501 | Status: Completed
Commander Dodge and Ranma waited in one of the Star Destroyer's conference rooms, while mess droids and stewards brought in carafes of coffee and tea, pastries, and water. The Wild Stallion's first officer sat near the head of the table, a steaming cup of coffee already in front of him. There actually is life in this galaxy, Ranma mused, while watching a flight of ARC-170s fly past the flagship on patrol. Baka, you should have known that anyway. After all, the chances of life-bearing planets are just as high as that in our home galaxy.
But is that galaxy truly our home anymore? After all, it's nothing but pain and suffering there. At least with this galaxy, there's a chance to head it off, to eliminate the threat of the Empire, and form a federation of planets united in defense and trade, and perhaps even send help to the Rebellion in our home galaxy.
Dodge looked over at Ranma, standing at a viewport, literally staring off into space. "Nervous, General," he asked.
Ranma chuckled. "You have no idea, Commander. This was what the Republic's Outbound Flight mission was designed to do: discover extra-galactic civilizations, and make contact with them. Six Jedi Masters and a dozen Knights, trained in First Contact scenarios, the like that hadn't been seen in the thousand generations that the Republic had stood. When we lost contact with the mission, the Jedi turned inward, looking towards the maintenance of the Republic; turning their back on exploration and First Contact. The loss of 18 Jedi was an almost crippling event, especially since the new ways prevented Jedi from love of a single person, and sustaining the Order through birth."
Dodge looked at Ranma with a questioning gaze, but decided not to interrupt in hopes of clearing the confusion he was feeling. Ranma scoffed, as he continued to stare out over the hull of his flagship. "Our introspection was a joke. We couldn't even see the Sith Lord hidden in plain sight, manipulating the Trade Federation into invading Naboo, building up a clone army in secret, and manipulating the Separatists into instigating the Clone Wars.
"Now, it's up to me to see, a member of the Special Operations Executive, about establishing diplomatic ties with an alien race." Ranma adjusted his robes, turning as the door slid open. Captain T'Mir stood with her Marine escort at the threshold. "Captain T'Mir, welcome aboard the Wild Stallion. I am General Ranma Lim, Jedi Master, and commander of the Earth Defense Force. May I introduce the ship's executive officer, currently in command, Commander Thomas Dodge?"
"Ma'am," Dodge said, with a courteous bow.
"General, Commander," T'Mir replied, her hands behind her. Ranma sat down at the head of the table. "Captain, please be seated," he said, motioning to a chair across from Dodge. "How can we help," he asked as T'Mir sat.
"My government has authorized me to request asylum from the Terran government for myself, my crew, and passengers aboard the T'Ever," she said, flatly.
"Perhaps, instead of requesting asylum, you could establish a government-in-exile and alliance with the Earth government. We were preparing to jump to 40 Eridani to relieve your system."
T'Mir's eyebrow went up. "Really?"
"Yes ma'am," Ranma replied. "One of our ships, the Prometheus, recorded what was probably a distress call, coming from what we call 40 Eridani. The captain launched one of his reconnaissance fighters to check it out." The display lit up, showing the recorded images from Captain Hiller's reconnaissance of 40 Eridani.
"Yes, that is the force that has taken over our planet," T'Mir confirmed. "I was leery to initiate contact when I saw the silhouettes of your vessels matching those that attacked our home world."
Ranma smiled. "Understandable. Most of our ships came from Imperial shipyards. And we're going to use that against them." The smile faded, as he looked across the conference table at the alien captain. "You can accompany us, or head to Earth, and begin negotiations with the United Earth Government. But, I cannot guarantee that they'll listen, or that it'll be a short fight. We're outnumbered by both men and materiel, and neither the Empire nor EarthForce has many friends here."
T'Mir appeared unflappable to the Jedi Master. "General, as logical as it would be to begin negotiations with your government on an alliance, the needs of my planet outweighs the needs of my few crewmembers or myself. I request that we accompany you back to our system. A familiar face to the partisans, and free forces would be an asset to your relief mission.
"I will, however, discuss your proposals with my crew and passengers."
"Captain T'Mir, welcome aboard," Ranma replied, a twinkle in his blue eyes. "I just need to know what to call your species to let my superiors know who we are going to help."
The faintest of smiles grew on T'Mir's face, something uncharacteristic had she been one of Roddenberry's Vulcans. "The name of our species does not translate easily into English. However, one of your crewmen called us ‘Vulcans,' and that would be an acceptable term for us."
"That will work. Commander Dodge, please have quarters arranged for Captain T'Mir and her company and crew; medical treatment for those who require it."
"Certainly, General. I take it we'll be leaving for 40 Eridani shortly?"
Ranma nodded. "Have Communications signal the fleet to begin jump preparations; fleet speed will be Point Five."
"Understood, General," Dodge replied, as he stood. "Captain T'Mir, if you would accompany me, please?"
"Of course, Commander," the Vulcan captain said, as she stood as well. "General."
000000
"Commander Dodge, is the fleet ready," Ranma asked, as he moved to the forward viewports of the Star Destroyer's bridge.
"Yes sir, the fleet is ready. Communications has upgraded their translation protocols to include the Vulcan language. Tactical has added silhouettes of all known Vulcan ship classes."
"Excellent. Signal all ships: Make the jump to hyperspace."
"Yes sir." Dodge relayed the order to the communications officer, and with flickers of pseudomotion, the fleet began its run up to lightspeed. "Mr. Beech," Dodge ordered, as he leaned over the crew pit, "engage." And with the barest perception of movement, the mile long battleship leapt into hyperspace.
"ETA to 40 Eridani 7 minutes, Commander," Mr. Beech relayed up from his station. "Assuming no unusual conditions lie between Sol and the target system."
"Excellent, Lieutenant," Dodge replied.
Captain T'Mir walked on to the bridge of the Star Destroyer, and lost her Vulcan stoicism as she took in the mottled, swirling "sky" of hyperspace. Ranma turned and faced the Vulcan emissary. "Captain," he said. "We should be arriving at 40 Eridani in approximately 5 minutes."
"General, just how fast are you traveling," she asked, still amazed that a journey that took them 48 days would be accomplished in less than a 15 Terran minutes.
"127 light-years an hour, give or take anomalous conditions, Captain," Lieutenant Beech replied. "Our top speed is Point Five past lightspeed, or approximately 1.2 million times the speed of light."
T'Mir's view on space travel was shattered by these revelations. "Just how do you manage traveling this fast? The best we've managed is warp factor five, and that's on only a few ships, like the T'Ever."
Commander Embrar, the Wild Stallion's engineering officer, left his station, and entered the conversation. "Just how do you go faster than light?"
"The theory would take too long to describe, but we warp space around us, carrying a piece of relativistic "normal" space around our ship, and then enter subspace."
"Ah, primitive, but functional," Embrar said. T'Mir arched an eyebrow at that. "We enter a subspace where time flows differently, but there are ‘mass shadows' where stars, planets and other gravitational anomalies exist. Which is why we're able to go faster than your ‘warp space'."
"General," Mr. Beech called, "we're preparing to revert to normal space."
"Very well. Put me on intership."
"You're on, General."
"This is EarthForce Actual. We're about to drop into a highly contested chunk of space. This will be our first foray against the Empire; they are highly trained and motivated. But so are we. I know you'll all do your duties, and bring credit upon the Earth Defense Forces.
"The order is: All hands to Action Stations; set Condition One throughout the ship. Launch all fighters upon reversion to normal space. And may the Force be with us."
A muted alarm began sounding throughout the bridge and ship, as bridge's lighting changed to red. "General," Commander Chuikov called from fleet tactical station, "all ships reporting in. Condition One set throughout the fleet."
"Fleet fighterrrs rrreporrrting in the grrreen," Wing Commander M'ret reported.
"Reversion to normal space in 5...4...3...2...1...0...sublight engines online."
"All ships have reverted to normal space. Fighters launching, General." The Wild Stallion's snubfighters came up in an arcing climb from her primary hangar bay as each squadron launched and formed up under the flagship. Similar scenes were occurring on the Star Destroyers as the fighter division formed.
"Generrral, incoming TIE fighterrrs."
"Weapons free. Detail Victory, Minuteman, and Airbat squadrons to defend the flagship."
"Yes sirrr," the Caitian wing commander replied.
Space began to fill with verdant green laser and turbolaser bolts from the combatant ships. Y-Wings, ARC-170 and the precious few X-Wings tangled with the vertical-winged TIE/ln fighters of the Imperial Starfleet. Blooms of fire appeared where fighter, both friend and foe, were shot down.
"Communications," Ranma ordered from the holotable, "new orders for the Star Destroyers: Form up on the flagship; alter course to 135 mark 275, ahead three-quarters. Navigation, put us right in the middle of my Imperial counterpart's formation, ahead three quarters. Dreadnoughts and corvettes to make slashing flank attacks. Parry their smaller ships and older Acclamators."
"Aye sir," the ship began a rolling dive on to her new course, leading her two sister Imperators and older siblings in the form of the 11 Victories.
"Star Destroyer force responding, General."
"Commander Embrar, I want the shields to remain up, without having to roll the vessel. Can it be down?"
"I'll see to it myself, General," Embrar replied. He then left the holotable and moved towards the aft blast door.
"Weapons, standby heavy turbolaser batteries—port and starboard sides. I want suppressive fire from all smaller batteries."
"Aye sir."
As the fleet closed on the Imperial force, the heavy turbolaser batteries on the flanks of the dorsal and ventral hull begin rotating into firing position. The smaller batteries that comprised the bulk of her firepower began intensifying their rate of fire. TIE fighters on their attack run against the Wild Stallion were caught off guard by the increase in firepower; some managed to break off their attack runs, others got winged and spun of into the depths of space, and yet others were vaporized flat out.
The heavy turbolasers locked on to their first target- the Vicstars Praetor and Ramilles. 20 green bolts of charged energy tore into the shields of the older Imperial ships, and, as the Wild Stallion continued her climb up through the Imperial column, walked up the aft side of Praetor's command tower and Ramilles bow. The older first generation Victories weren't designed to withstand that sort of pounding, originally designed to provide fire-support within an atmosphere. The Praetor's port sublight engine exploded, throwing the vessel into a flat spin to starboard. Additional volleys from the Wild Stallion's heavy turbolasers ripped through her target's scanner domes and peppered the command tower, venting large sections into space. The Praetor began to fall out of formation, as her engineers and damage control teams tried to recover the crippled ship.
Her sister ship, the Ramilles, wasn't so lucky. Multiple heavy turbolaser bolts found their way into the warship's bridge, obliterating all command and control for the Vicstar. The ship began to plummet out of formation, and rammed the Victor, splitting the second ship in half.
A cheer went up on the bridge of the EarthForce flagship. "At ease," Ranma called. "There are still a helluva a lot of enemy ships in orbit.
"Communications, signal the formation to forgo battle lines, and attack. All vessels attack."
"Aye sir."
T'Mir flinched involuntarily as a TIE fighter went screaming past the bridge of the Wild Stallion, an ARC-170 hot on its tail. The two snubfighters passed so close, personnel near the bridge's viewports could see the "612" and stylized bat painted on the nose of the former Republic fighter. "Definitely not the way I ever pictured a space battle, Captain," Commander Dodge commented. The line of battle fell apart as individual ships broke formation and began hammering the nearest counterpart. The dozen EDF corvettes that Ranma took with him, lead by the Prometheus, zipped between the larger ships, like terrestrial destroyers in the midst of a great naval battle; the Dreadnoughts slugged it out with larger Imperial ships, making use of their design to absorb punishing blows that would have destroyed lesser capable ships.
"Indeed, not, Commander," she replied. "Our planet was taken by surprise, before the High Command could launch our combat vessels. And our last war was fought two centuries ago, in deep space against the Andorians. It was a much...neater affair." Smaller blooms of fire speckled the view from the Wild Stallion's bridge, as snubfighters, both Imperial and EarthForce, died in self-feeding orgies of plasma.
"Commander Dodge," Ranma asked, motioning the flagship's XO over to the holotable. The battle hovered above the surface, showing the fight in detail.
"Yes, General?"
"You notice this Imperator hanging back from the fight?"
"The Black Prince. You think she's the command ship?"
"I'm almost certain of it," Ranma replied. "Plot her coordinates and prepare a microjump."
"General?"
"We did it quite successfully during the Clone Wars. They won't expect us to jump in. They'll see our run up to lightspeed, and we'll appear along their broadsides, turbolasers firing."
"Ah, sort of like the fictional Picard Maneuver, from Star Trek," Dodge replied.
"Exactly. Navigation?"
"Coordinates plotted, General," Mr. Beech called.
"Execute on my mark. Communications, inform Victory, Minuteman and Airbat Squadrons of what we are planning. Have them remain with the fleet."
"Aye sir."
"Mr. Beech, execute." The Wild Stallion II began its run up to lightspeed, and shot into hyperspace, before immediately dropping out of it next to her Imperial counterpart, the Black Prince. "Starboard batteries: Fire!"
The entire starboard side of the EF flagship lit up as her turbolasers opened fire, bathing the Black Prince's shields in high energy blasts. The Wild Stallion's heavy batteries traversed on to the target and opened fire. Their slower rate of fire, but heavier charge, pummeled the Imperial Imperator's port shields.
It's not to say that Captain Caradoc was going to roll over and surrender. The diehard Imperial had his ship's batteries open fire, lacing the EF flagship with withering turbolaser fire, while TIE Interceptors poured out from her belly by the dozens. Explosions lanced from both Imperators as turbolaser bolts penetrated their shields and boiled off the armored hull below. The Imperial TIE fighters, free from having to defend themselves against enemy fighters strafed the hulls of the Wild Stallion, targeting and destroying turbolaser emplacements.
"Navigation," Ranma shouted over the din of alarm klaxons, "starboard roll. Bring portside batteries to bear. Tactical: Have batteries fire as they bear. Standby to fire ion cannons. CAG, what fighters do we have left?"
"Aye, sir," Mr. Beech replied. He relayed the orders to his helmsman, and the EarthForce battleship began to roll 90 degrees to the Black Prince. The portside turbolaser batteries opened fire as their Imperial sister became visible.
"Ion control reports ready, General," the tactical officer reported.
"Not much, Generrral," Wing Commander M'ret reported. "Just a few Blackbirrrds and rrrecon Y-wings."
"Die, you arrogant sonovabitch," a dulcet voice called over the communications net. An Interceptor exploded as the blaster bolts from an ARC-170 found their mark. The fighter roared over the hull of the flagship, followed quickly by three of her wingmates. "Haneda, Shin, Kagome, incoming marks at 3 o'clock, relative. Break and engage."
"Pilot, identify yourrrself," M'ret growled.
"Second Lieutenant Mitaka Arisa, ma'am, 801st Tactical Fighter Squadron." The holotable updated itself, showing four fighters from the 801st leaving the hull of the Wild Stallion. "I thought it was kind of odd that the flagship would take off without any fighter escort."
"The Force is with us," Ranma said. "We have fighter cover. M'ret, contact Victory, tell them to haul ass over here, and support the element from the 801st."
"Yes sirrr."
Ranma returned to the holotable to watch the battle, while returning command of the flagship back to Commander Dodge. The former US Navy officer began issuing his own commands to fight the ship in the best traditions of the US Navy. "Communications: signal the Nemesis, Luna, and Terra. They're to begin preparations for orbital bombardment of the larger Imperial troop concentrations."
"Yes sir."
"General, are you sure it's time to begin our liberation? There's still a significant force out there."
Ranma looked at his flag captain. "My dear Captain Maturin, now is the perfect time. Caradoc's task force is preoccupied with us, and won't be able to support the Imperial troops." A massive fireball lit up the bridge. Ranma turned back to the intelligence officer. "What ship?"
"The Iron Duke, General. Imperial Imperator Star Destroyer."
"Very good..." Ranma was thrown off his feet, as the Wild Stallion wheeled against the blast wave; the starfield beyond the viewports spinning wildly, as the ship's inertial dampeners fought to stabilize the ship. The lights on the bridge flickered for a few moments before dropping offline. Pale white emergency lighting flickered on, bathing the bridge in a stark glow. "Status report!"
"Damage report," Dodge shouted at the same time.
"Sirs, the Black Prince just exploded. Shock damage to our ship from the concussion wave. Shields bore the brunt of the debris; life support down 25%, electrical systems down 35% overall. We're still getting reports on casualties. Primary sublight drives offline. Fire in frames 23 492 through 23 600; Damage Control is attempting to bring it under control."
"Status of the element from the 801st?"
"Still with us, General. They were on the opposite side of the ship when the Black Prince exploded."
"General, the Imperial fleet is disengaging."
"Signal all Star Destroyers: Prepare to deploy ground forces and fighter support. All Vicstars, corvettes and the Prometheus to enter the atmosphere and provide fire support."
"Yes sir." A few moments later, the holotable showed the atmospheric-capable warships entering the atmosphere, the corvettes and fighters leading the landing barges. Turbolaser bolts began raining down on the Imperial garrisons, as swarms of TIE fighters began climbing to meet the EarthForce starfighters. A furious swirling furball began developing as ARC-170s, Y-wings, and X-wings engaged Imperial fighters. Fireballs punctuated the deaths of friend and foe alike, as the rescue channels began receiving the rescue beacons of those fortunate enough to eject from their dieing fighter.
The Terran fighters had distinct advantages over their Imperial counterparts—they were aerodynamically sound, as opposed to the high drag penalties granted by the TIE fighter's vertical wings. Another advantage was also shown by the fact that almost all of the Terran pilots were trained in atmospheric operations from day one of their original service enlistments, and they used this training to the utmost; unlike their Imperial counterparts who spent the majority of their career in vacuum. Of course, the rugged construction and shields in the EF fighters helped as well. All in all, the aerial battle for 40 Eridani A II was a resounding victory for the EarthForce Fleet Aerospace Arm.
But is that galaxy truly our home anymore? After all, it's nothing but pain and suffering there. At least with this galaxy, there's a chance to head it off, to eliminate the threat of the Empire, and form a federation of planets united in defense and trade, and perhaps even send help to the Rebellion in our home galaxy.
Dodge looked over at Ranma, standing at a viewport, literally staring off into space. "Nervous, General," he asked.
Ranma chuckled. "You have no idea, Commander. This was what the Republic's Outbound Flight mission was designed to do: discover extra-galactic civilizations, and make contact with them. Six Jedi Masters and a dozen Knights, trained in First Contact scenarios, the like that hadn't been seen in the thousand generations that the Republic had stood. When we lost contact with the mission, the Jedi turned inward, looking towards the maintenance of the Republic; turning their back on exploration and First Contact. The loss of 18 Jedi was an almost crippling event, especially since the new ways prevented Jedi from love of a single person, and sustaining the Order through birth."
Dodge looked at Ranma with a questioning gaze, but decided not to interrupt in hopes of clearing the confusion he was feeling. Ranma scoffed, as he continued to stare out over the hull of his flagship. "Our introspection was a joke. We couldn't even see the Sith Lord hidden in plain sight, manipulating the Trade Federation into invading Naboo, building up a clone army in secret, and manipulating the Separatists into instigating the Clone Wars.
"Now, it's up to me to see, a member of the Special Operations Executive, about establishing diplomatic ties with an alien race." Ranma adjusted his robes, turning as the door slid open. Captain T'Mir stood with her Marine escort at the threshold. "Captain T'Mir, welcome aboard the Wild Stallion. I am General Ranma Lim, Jedi Master, and commander of the Earth Defense Force. May I introduce the ship's executive officer, currently in command, Commander Thomas Dodge?"
"Ma'am," Dodge said, with a courteous bow.
"General, Commander," T'Mir replied, her hands behind her. Ranma sat down at the head of the table. "Captain, please be seated," he said, motioning to a chair across from Dodge. "How can we help," he asked as T'Mir sat.
"My government has authorized me to request asylum from the Terran government for myself, my crew, and passengers aboard the T'Ever," she said, flatly.
"Perhaps, instead of requesting asylum, you could establish a government-in-exile and alliance with the Earth government. We were preparing to jump to 40 Eridani to relieve your system."
T'Mir's eyebrow went up. "Really?"
"Yes ma'am," Ranma replied. "One of our ships, the Prometheus, recorded what was probably a distress call, coming from what we call 40 Eridani. The captain launched one of his reconnaissance fighters to check it out." The display lit up, showing the recorded images from Captain Hiller's reconnaissance of 40 Eridani.
"Yes, that is the force that has taken over our planet," T'Mir confirmed. "I was leery to initiate contact when I saw the silhouettes of your vessels matching those that attacked our home world."
Ranma smiled. "Understandable. Most of our ships came from Imperial shipyards. And we're going to use that against them." The smile faded, as he looked across the conference table at the alien captain. "You can accompany us, or head to Earth, and begin negotiations with the United Earth Government. But, I cannot guarantee that they'll listen, or that it'll be a short fight. We're outnumbered by both men and materiel, and neither the Empire nor EarthForce has many friends here."
T'Mir appeared unflappable to the Jedi Master. "General, as logical as it would be to begin negotiations with your government on an alliance, the needs of my planet outweighs the needs of my few crewmembers or myself. I request that we accompany you back to our system. A familiar face to the partisans, and free forces would be an asset to your relief mission.
"I will, however, discuss your proposals with my crew and passengers."
"Captain T'Mir, welcome aboard," Ranma replied, a twinkle in his blue eyes. "I just need to know what to call your species to let my superiors know who we are going to help."
The faintest of smiles grew on T'Mir's face, something uncharacteristic had she been one of Roddenberry's Vulcans. "The name of our species does not translate easily into English. However, one of your crewmen called us ‘Vulcans,' and that would be an acceptable term for us."
"That will work. Commander Dodge, please have quarters arranged for Captain T'Mir and her company and crew; medical treatment for those who require it."
"Certainly, General. I take it we'll be leaving for 40 Eridani shortly?"
Ranma nodded. "Have Communications signal the fleet to begin jump preparations; fleet speed will be Point Five."
"Understood, General," Dodge replied, as he stood. "Captain T'Mir, if you would accompany me, please?"
"Of course, Commander," the Vulcan captain said, as she stood as well. "General."
000000
"Commander Dodge, is the fleet ready," Ranma asked, as he moved to the forward viewports of the Star Destroyer's bridge.
"Yes sir, the fleet is ready. Communications has upgraded their translation protocols to include the Vulcan language. Tactical has added silhouettes of all known Vulcan ship classes."
"Excellent. Signal all ships: Make the jump to hyperspace."
"Yes sir." Dodge relayed the order to the communications officer, and with flickers of pseudomotion, the fleet began its run up to lightspeed. "Mr. Beech," Dodge ordered, as he leaned over the crew pit, "engage." And with the barest perception of movement, the mile long battleship leapt into hyperspace.
"ETA to 40 Eridani 7 minutes, Commander," Mr. Beech relayed up from his station. "Assuming no unusual conditions lie between Sol and the target system."
"Excellent, Lieutenant," Dodge replied.
Captain T'Mir walked on to the bridge of the Star Destroyer, and lost her Vulcan stoicism as she took in the mottled, swirling "sky" of hyperspace. Ranma turned and faced the Vulcan emissary. "Captain," he said. "We should be arriving at 40 Eridani in approximately 5 minutes."
"General, just how fast are you traveling," she asked, still amazed that a journey that took them 48 days would be accomplished in less than a 15 Terran minutes.
"127 light-years an hour, give or take anomalous conditions, Captain," Lieutenant Beech replied. "Our top speed is Point Five past lightspeed, or approximately 1.2 million times the speed of light."
T'Mir's view on space travel was shattered by these revelations. "Just how do you manage traveling this fast? The best we've managed is warp factor five, and that's on only a few ships, like the T'Ever."
Commander Embrar, the Wild Stallion's engineering officer, left his station, and entered the conversation. "Just how do you go faster than light?"
"The theory would take too long to describe, but we warp space around us, carrying a piece of relativistic "normal" space around our ship, and then enter subspace."
"Ah, primitive, but functional," Embrar said. T'Mir arched an eyebrow at that. "We enter a subspace where time flows differently, but there are ‘mass shadows' where stars, planets and other gravitational anomalies exist. Which is why we're able to go faster than your ‘warp space'."
"General," Mr. Beech called, "we're preparing to revert to normal space."
"Very well. Put me on intership."
"You're on, General."
"This is EarthForce Actual. We're about to drop into a highly contested chunk of space. This will be our first foray against the Empire; they are highly trained and motivated. But so are we. I know you'll all do your duties, and bring credit upon the Earth Defense Forces.
"The order is: All hands to Action Stations; set Condition One throughout the ship. Launch all fighters upon reversion to normal space. And may the Force be with us."
A muted alarm began sounding throughout the bridge and ship, as bridge's lighting changed to red. "General," Commander Chuikov called from fleet tactical station, "all ships reporting in. Condition One set throughout the fleet."
"Fleet fighterrrs rrreporrrting in the grrreen," Wing Commander M'ret reported.
"Reversion to normal space in 5...4...3...2...1...0...sublight engines online."
"All ships have reverted to normal space. Fighters launching, General." The Wild Stallion's snubfighters came up in an arcing climb from her primary hangar bay as each squadron launched and formed up under the flagship. Similar scenes were occurring on the Star Destroyers as the fighter division formed.
"Generrral, incoming TIE fighterrrs."
"Weapons free. Detail Victory, Minuteman, and Airbat squadrons to defend the flagship."
"Yes sirrr," the Caitian wing commander replied.
Space began to fill with verdant green laser and turbolaser bolts from the combatant ships. Y-Wings, ARC-170 and the precious few X-Wings tangled with the vertical-winged TIE/ln fighters of the Imperial Starfleet. Blooms of fire appeared where fighter, both friend and foe, were shot down.
"Communications," Ranma ordered from the holotable, "new orders for the Star Destroyers: Form up on the flagship; alter course to 135 mark 275, ahead three-quarters. Navigation, put us right in the middle of my Imperial counterpart's formation, ahead three quarters. Dreadnoughts and corvettes to make slashing flank attacks. Parry their smaller ships and older Acclamators."
"Aye sir," the ship began a rolling dive on to her new course, leading her two sister Imperators and older siblings in the form of the 11 Victories.
"Star Destroyer force responding, General."
"Commander Embrar, I want the shields to remain up, without having to roll the vessel. Can it be down?"
"I'll see to it myself, General," Embrar replied. He then left the holotable and moved towards the aft blast door.
"Weapons, standby heavy turbolaser batteries—port and starboard sides. I want suppressive fire from all smaller batteries."
"Aye sir."
As the fleet closed on the Imperial force, the heavy turbolaser batteries on the flanks of the dorsal and ventral hull begin rotating into firing position. The smaller batteries that comprised the bulk of her firepower began intensifying their rate of fire. TIE fighters on their attack run against the Wild Stallion were caught off guard by the increase in firepower; some managed to break off their attack runs, others got winged and spun of into the depths of space, and yet others were vaporized flat out.
The heavy turbolasers locked on to their first target- the Vicstars Praetor and Ramilles. 20 green bolts of charged energy tore into the shields of the older Imperial ships, and, as the Wild Stallion continued her climb up through the Imperial column, walked up the aft side of Praetor's command tower and Ramilles bow. The older first generation Victories weren't designed to withstand that sort of pounding, originally designed to provide fire-support within an atmosphere. The Praetor's port sublight engine exploded, throwing the vessel into a flat spin to starboard. Additional volleys from the Wild Stallion's heavy turbolasers ripped through her target's scanner domes and peppered the command tower, venting large sections into space. The Praetor began to fall out of formation, as her engineers and damage control teams tried to recover the crippled ship.
Her sister ship, the Ramilles, wasn't so lucky. Multiple heavy turbolaser bolts found their way into the warship's bridge, obliterating all command and control for the Vicstar. The ship began to plummet out of formation, and rammed the Victor, splitting the second ship in half.
A cheer went up on the bridge of the EarthForce flagship. "At ease," Ranma called. "There are still a helluva a lot of enemy ships in orbit.
"Communications, signal the formation to forgo battle lines, and attack. All vessels attack."
"Aye sir."
T'Mir flinched involuntarily as a TIE fighter went screaming past the bridge of the Wild Stallion, an ARC-170 hot on its tail. The two snubfighters passed so close, personnel near the bridge's viewports could see the "612" and stylized bat painted on the nose of the former Republic fighter. "Definitely not the way I ever pictured a space battle, Captain," Commander Dodge commented. The line of battle fell apart as individual ships broke formation and began hammering the nearest counterpart. The dozen EDF corvettes that Ranma took with him, lead by the Prometheus, zipped between the larger ships, like terrestrial destroyers in the midst of a great naval battle; the Dreadnoughts slugged it out with larger Imperial ships, making use of their design to absorb punishing blows that would have destroyed lesser capable ships.
"Indeed, not, Commander," she replied. "Our planet was taken by surprise, before the High Command could launch our combat vessels. And our last war was fought two centuries ago, in deep space against the Andorians. It was a much...neater affair." Smaller blooms of fire speckled the view from the Wild Stallion's bridge, as snubfighters, both Imperial and EarthForce, died in self-feeding orgies of plasma.
"Commander Dodge," Ranma asked, motioning the flagship's XO over to the holotable. The battle hovered above the surface, showing the fight in detail.
"Yes, General?"
"You notice this Imperator hanging back from the fight?"
"The Black Prince. You think she's the command ship?"
"I'm almost certain of it," Ranma replied. "Plot her coordinates and prepare a microjump."
"General?"
"We did it quite successfully during the Clone Wars. They won't expect us to jump in. They'll see our run up to lightspeed, and we'll appear along their broadsides, turbolasers firing."
"Ah, sort of like the fictional Picard Maneuver, from Star Trek," Dodge replied.
"Exactly. Navigation?"
"Coordinates plotted, General," Mr. Beech called.
"Execute on my mark. Communications, inform Victory, Minuteman and Airbat Squadrons of what we are planning. Have them remain with the fleet."
"Aye sir."
"Mr. Beech, execute." The Wild Stallion II began its run up to lightspeed, and shot into hyperspace, before immediately dropping out of it next to her Imperial counterpart, the Black Prince. "Starboard batteries: Fire!"
The entire starboard side of the EF flagship lit up as her turbolasers opened fire, bathing the Black Prince's shields in high energy blasts. The Wild Stallion's heavy batteries traversed on to the target and opened fire. Their slower rate of fire, but heavier charge, pummeled the Imperial Imperator's port shields.
It's not to say that Captain Caradoc was going to roll over and surrender. The diehard Imperial had his ship's batteries open fire, lacing the EF flagship with withering turbolaser fire, while TIE Interceptors poured out from her belly by the dozens. Explosions lanced from both Imperators as turbolaser bolts penetrated their shields and boiled off the armored hull below. The Imperial TIE fighters, free from having to defend themselves against enemy fighters strafed the hulls of the Wild Stallion, targeting and destroying turbolaser emplacements.
"Navigation," Ranma shouted over the din of alarm klaxons, "starboard roll. Bring portside batteries to bear. Tactical: Have batteries fire as they bear. Standby to fire ion cannons. CAG, what fighters do we have left?"
"Aye, sir," Mr. Beech replied. He relayed the orders to his helmsman, and the EarthForce battleship began to roll 90 degrees to the Black Prince. The portside turbolaser batteries opened fire as their Imperial sister became visible.
"Ion control reports ready, General," the tactical officer reported.
"Not much, Generrral," Wing Commander M'ret reported. "Just a few Blackbirrrds and rrrecon Y-wings."
"Die, you arrogant sonovabitch," a dulcet voice called over the communications net. An Interceptor exploded as the blaster bolts from an ARC-170 found their mark. The fighter roared over the hull of the flagship, followed quickly by three of her wingmates. "Haneda, Shin, Kagome, incoming marks at 3 o'clock, relative. Break and engage."
"Pilot, identify yourrrself," M'ret growled.
"Second Lieutenant Mitaka Arisa, ma'am, 801st Tactical Fighter Squadron." The holotable updated itself, showing four fighters from the 801st leaving the hull of the Wild Stallion. "I thought it was kind of odd that the flagship would take off without any fighter escort."
"The Force is with us," Ranma said. "We have fighter cover. M'ret, contact Victory, tell them to haul ass over here, and support the element from the 801st."
"Yes sirrr."
Ranma returned to the holotable to watch the battle, while returning command of the flagship back to Commander Dodge. The former US Navy officer began issuing his own commands to fight the ship in the best traditions of the US Navy. "Communications: signal the Nemesis, Luna, and Terra. They're to begin preparations for orbital bombardment of the larger Imperial troop concentrations."
"Yes sir."
"General, are you sure it's time to begin our liberation? There's still a significant force out there."
Ranma looked at his flag captain. "My dear Captain Maturin, now is the perfect time. Caradoc's task force is preoccupied with us, and won't be able to support the Imperial troops." A massive fireball lit up the bridge. Ranma turned back to the intelligence officer. "What ship?"
"The Iron Duke, General. Imperial Imperator Star Destroyer."
"Very good..." Ranma was thrown off his feet, as the Wild Stallion wheeled against the blast wave; the starfield beyond the viewports spinning wildly, as the ship's inertial dampeners fought to stabilize the ship. The lights on the bridge flickered for a few moments before dropping offline. Pale white emergency lighting flickered on, bathing the bridge in a stark glow. "Status report!"
"Damage report," Dodge shouted at the same time.
"Sirs, the Black Prince just exploded. Shock damage to our ship from the concussion wave. Shields bore the brunt of the debris; life support down 25%, electrical systems down 35% overall. We're still getting reports on casualties. Primary sublight drives offline. Fire in frames 23 492 through 23 600; Damage Control is attempting to bring it under control."
"Status of the element from the 801st?"
"Still with us, General. They were on the opposite side of the ship when the Black Prince exploded."
"General, the Imperial fleet is disengaging."
"Signal all Star Destroyers: Prepare to deploy ground forces and fighter support. All Vicstars, corvettes and the Prometheus to enter the atmosphere and provide fire support."
"Yes sir." A few moments later, the holotable showed the atmospheric-capable warships entering the atmosphere, the corvettes and fighters leading the landing barges. Turbolaser bolts began raining down on the Imperial garrisons, as swarms of TIE fighters began climbing to meet the EarthForce starfighters. A furious swirling furball began developing as ARC-170s, Y-wings, and X-wings engaged Imperial fighters. Fireballs punctuated the deaths of friend and foe alike, as the rescue channels began receiving the rescue beacons of those fortunate enough to eject from their dieing fighter.
The Terran fighters had distinct advantages over their Imperial counterparts—they were aerodynamically sound, as opposed to the high drag penalties granted by the TIE fighter's vertical wings. Another advantage was also shown by the fact that almost all of the Terran pilots were trained in atmospheric operations from day one of their original service enlistments, and they used this training to the utmost; unlike their Imperial counterparts who spent the majority of their career in vacuum. Of course, the rugged construction and shields in the EF fighters helped as well. All in all, the aerial battle for 40 Eridani A II was a resounding victory for the EarthForce Fleet Aerospace Arm.