Moments after the immense Imperial Class-II Star Destroyer Challenge emerged from hyperspace, several squadrons of TIE starfighters were launched from the huge hangar bay on the ventral side of the ship. As soon as they cleared the Star Destroyer, they swarmed out in all directions, starting a systematic and thorough sweep of the system.
On the bridge, the newly appointed Rear Admiral Darklord watched through the transparisteel window. This was not how he had wanted to start his tour as Commodore of the Challenge.
"How is the search progressing?"
The voice of Admiral Bonini brought Darklord back from his thoughts. He turned and faced the new Flight Officer.
"Not good, sir. We've swept 10 systems so far, not a trace of that freighter."
"Keep searching," Bonini said. "They have to be somewhere. Corellians are becoming rare these days. All the smugglers are using better ships, and what keeps flying around doesn't fly for long. Sooner or later we'll run into someone who has seen it."
Darklord nodded. Sure, it was only a matter of time. But still, he'd rather have Beir and Dempsey back aboard his ship.
His ship. That sounded so good...
After a long, excruciating and very tiresome walk, Anahorn noticed something in the distance. For the last three hours, she'd walked along the deserted world of Hathrox III, focusing all her attention on keeping the toxic atmosphere out of her flight suit.
It was exhausting to say the least.
But now, she stood still and looked in the distance. There was definately something there. But was it real, or were her senses deceiving her?
She closed her eyes and concentrated. She reached out with what control she had over the Force, but touched nothing. That didn't mean much, her training had been mediocre and short, she probably wouldn't sense a Star Destroyer filled with Jedi at this distance.
She sighed, and started walking towards the whatever it was in the distance.
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Meanwhile, several thousand light years away, Kadon Beir walked the streets of Sillum City. He was looking for something, but he wasn't exactly sure what. It was a tall building, that much he knew. He also knew he would recognize it when he saw it. For now, he just walked the streets of the city, trying to blend in with the crowd.
Not that there was much of a crowd, but still, he tried his best. His armor was a good thing of course. The downside is that there were not many people walking around in the armor of a Mandalorian, but the upside was that no one would even suspect he was a high ranking Imperial officer.
Suddenly he froze. Across the street, between two large structures, was a small building. It didn't stand out in its surroundings, there were several identical buildings in the street. But this one had something. Beir couldn't put his finger on it, but he was certain of it. So much for his knowing the building he was looking for was a tall one...
After a moment, he glanced around, saw that no one was paying any attention to him, and walked over to the building. He grabbed the door handle, and with a quick move and a small crack gained access. He shut the door behind him, and took a moment. His eyes needed to adjust to the darkness.
An uneasy, unsettling feeling came over him. This was definately the place he needed to be, but something was wrong here. Very wrong.
A tremor went through the mighty Star Destroyer as another volley of proton torpedoes hit the Challenge's shields. On the bridge, the newly appointed Rear Admiral Darklord almost fell down, but he managed to keep standing.
He watched the men on the bridge carry out their duties. Each was intensely concentrated, and seemingly unaffected by the violence.
He knew better.
Most of them were afraid. And they had every right to be.
Finally, after two weeks of intense searching, they had come across the Corellian YT-1300 freighter they had been looking for. Together with the Interdictor Cruiser Retainer, the Challenge had intercepted the Sabre's Tooth on a cargo haul to the Outer Rim Territories. It had taken 10 minutes to get the freighter secured in the hangar bay, and then all hell broke loose.
No less than four New Republic Star Cruisers had jumped almost on top of them, and several dozen X-wing and A-wing class starfighters had been launched. Even with their far superior TIE starfighters, the Imperials had been vastly outnumbered, and slowly their numbers were going down.
"How's that hyperdrive coming?" Darklord asked.
A bridge officer who had just transferred from the Star Destroyer Immortal turned. "Another 10 minutes at least, sir!" he responded.
'Damn,' Darklord thought to himself.
Completely taken by surprise, the first attack wave of X-wings had managed to knock out the Challenge's hyperdrive. And they had been lucky. The two squadrons of X-wings that had gone after the Retainer had managed to cripple the Interdictor so much in their initial attack, that they had met no resistance at all while finishing her off.
Darklord winced as he remembered the enormous explosion that engulfed the Interdictor, and the emptiness that had remained after the explosion had faded. More than three thousand Imperial soldiers had died in the explosion. He clenched his fist. These ratched Rebels would pay for that!
"Republic Cruiser closing to firing range!" one of the officers reported. "It's the Bothan's Hope," the man continued. "It shields are deteriorating, our Missile Boats are pounding it relentlessly."
Darklord turned to the navigation officer standing to his right. "Come about," he ordered. Bring our topside around to face them." Turning towards another officer, he said, "All ventral laser batteries: open fire as soon as that Cruiser is in range. Divert as much power as possible to the ventral shields."
Darklord watched as several people quickly carried out his orders, and he felt the shift in the Destroyer's movement. The a slight tremor as forty heavy turbolaser batteries simultaneously opened fire. The green light of the high intensity lasers quickly made its way to the Mon Calamari Cruiser now within range of the guns. He watched as the laser's energy dissipated along the Cruiser's shields. The lit up nicely, and with every laser that hit, they seems to light up a little less.
"Cyclone, bring all guns to bear on that Cruiser!" The voice of Commander Styles, who had taken temporary command of Cyclone Squadron, sounded over the radio. Darklord squinted his eyes, and in the distance discerned the exhaust lighting of several starfighters lining up. Cyclone's Missile Boats were set on approach. Even though he knew it was only his mind playing tricks, Darklord could have sworn he saw the flickers of light signalling the launch of torpedoes from the fighters. What he didn't imagine, were the flashes indicating the explosions of those torpedoes against the Bothan's Hope's shields.
And the explosions of the torpedoes that had broken through, and now slammed into its bare, unprotected hull.
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