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  1. In Memory of LAJ_FETT: Please share your remembrances and condolences HERE

Beyond - Legends The Fall of Coruscant

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction- Before, Saga, and Beyond' started by comradepitrovsky, May 2, 2017.

  1. comradepitrovsky

    comradepitrovsky Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jan 5, 2017
    (Part 1 of 4)
    The first moments of a battle always fill me with dread. The waiting, for starfighters to fly out of launch bays, for turbolaser arrays to find the range, it’s terrible. Nothing I can do, no way to control the situation. I can only watch, helplessly.
    “Ensign Sulan, status report?”
    I snapped to attention, looking at the sensor consoles and adjusting the dials and settings slightly.
    “Orange Squadron is reporting full readiness, sir, as are Saber Squadron and Jabiim Squadron. All of Coruscant’s defense stations are reporting in as well, Admiral Nantz, and the Fifth and Third Fleets are approximately three hours out.”
    Firmus Nantz, hero of Abraxas, savior of Tarabba, looked worried. That didn’t reassure me. I returned to my console, trying to adjust the comms array to pick up the Imperial frequencies in advance, gain some intelligence before the fleet dropped in.
    “Psst. Yald.”
    That was Tulon, to my right. She did the aux comms station. I ignored her.
    “Yald.”
    I kept my head on the console, switching to hypercomms and refining another 30%.
    “Yald!”
    “What?”
    “Did you hear what the starfighter pilots were saying?”
    Tulon Vas wanted to be a pilot herself, and was notorious for repeating their gossip. Usually after it was no longer applicable. But better some information than nothing.
    “No . . . what was it?”
    “The Sabers just came in from Anaxes. They say the Imps dropped a dozen ISDs on them, before they could even launch. That they’re spewing ships everywhere.”
    I smiled slightly. “You’re hearing nonsense, Tulon. We’ve got the Imp’s shipyards – they’re on the run. This is their last gasp, throwing the refuse at the New Republic. We win this, and the Empire’s gone for good.”
    “Then explain why the Sabers are fielding three X-Wings, Yald.”
    I didn’t have a response for that. Then the ship rumbled, and I felt the immense engines roar to life. The aged MC75 moved. I brought up a schematic of the system.
    “We’re moving away from the planet. . . “ I murmured it almost to myself.
    “Yald, this is worse than they’re telling us.”
    “You said that at Lorra, and that was a pair of Carracks. Don’t be so negative.”
    “I’m just saying,” Tulon glanced upwards. “Nantz coming. Watch yourself.”
    We both returned to our consoles as the Admiral walked past the crew pit. I wasn’t worried. This was Coruscant. The heart of the Empire, once, and now the capitol of the New Republic. Coruscant had never fallen to a real military strike – when we took it we used stealth and skill, not the fleet. The Empire would never attack their greatest jewel with the navy, after all. Most of them were from the Core, for kriffing sake.
    Still, I did my usual pre-battle ritual. Updated the letter to my parents, muttered an old Deic prayer-chant . . . and checked the powercells in my blaster. Not that I’d have to use it, mind you. But just in case.
    “Ensign.”
    Admiral Nantz’s voice brought me back to reality.
    “Yes, sir?”
    “Relay the following to the fleet.”
    “Aye, Admiral.” I flipped a few switches on the status board, broadcasting on the standard NRDF fleet waves. “Ready for you, sir.”
    “This is Admiral Nantz, on the NRDF Count Dooku. As you are by now prepared, a renewed Imperial advance has erupted out of the Deep Core, overrunning our bases at Anaxes and Empress Teta. They were not Coruscant, however. This is the capitol of our New Republic, the seat of freedom and justice in the galaxy. The Empire is broken. The Empire is dead. The Imperial Navy is in full retreat, their leaders the incompetent and the cowardly. The heroes of Endor and Brentaal, of a hundred other battles, have won our victory. Do not let the shattered leftovers of tyranny end that for us. May the Force be with us. Captains, enemy reversion in mark five.”
    I killed the message after Nantz’s dismissive nod, and returned to intraship comms, broadcasting it on the internal speakers as well, and to the X-Wings and A-Wings of Orange, Saber, and Jabiim Squadrons. I glanced over at Tulon. Her hands were white, gripping the console tightly. I smiled at her.
    “Hey. Don’t worry, this will be quick. We made it through Endor! This will be easy.”
    Tulon didn’t meet my eyes. “It’s just . . . I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
    My response was interrupted by a red light on my console. I was picking up Imperial signals. The enemy fleet had arrived.
    The scanning arrays and superluminal ansibles of the Count Dooku scanned them and translated the signals to my console, and to that of a hundred other officers onboard the ship. The Imperials weren’t anything major. A dozen Carracks, three Lancers, a pair of VicStars and a pair of ISDs.
    “Sulan, tell the Reliable and the Lord Hoth to move to position Besh mark three-seven, and launch all fighters. We’ll end this quickly. Helm, move the Dooku forward, and target the Lancers. We want clear skies for our fighters.”
    Admiral Nantz continued barking orders, while I typed and quick-flashed the orders to the rest of the First Fleet. Fighters accelerated, a wing and a half of X-Wings and A-Wings dashing across towards the remnants of the Imperial Fleet. The Dooku, the Reliable, the Lord Hoth, a dozen other Mon Calamari ships, Dreadnaughts, and Star Destroyers followed, the turbolasers finding the range and opening fire. I watched bursts of red light spur out, splashing on the shields of the Imperial Carracks. One of them – the transponder reading Daggerblade – erupted, splitting in half where a lucky turbolaser hit a power conduit.
    Nantz barked commands to a lieutenant. “Bring the fore turbolasers thirty degrees left, and fire by battery. Pick off the ones launching fighters first, then the comms ships.”
    I pulled up the frequencies for the Sabers, and routed them to my headpiece.
    “Saber Six, watch your back. Interceptors coming in.”
    “Thanks, Saber Leader. Coming about. Saber Five, hit them when I make an opening.”
    “Gotcha, Six.”
    “The Imps are falling back – the TIEs are returning. Drop those torps, and then we can move on.”
    I turned to the admiral.
    “Sir. TIE fighters are moving back to the ships. The Imps are running.”
    Nantz smiled. “Flank speed, then. We’ll hunt them down and break them once and for all. The Golans will defend the planet.”
    One of the officers responded quickly. “Aye, sir. Flank speed.”
    The Count Dooku picked off fleeing TIEs with its turbolasers, then blowing a hole in one of the Imperial VicStars. Then a burst on an Imperial frequency flew across my board. I isolated it, and turned to Tulon.
    “You see this?”
    “That’s an alpha-zero command code, Yald. Haven’t seen this since Endor…”
    “What do you think it means, then?”
    “I’m not sure. Those are reserved for the Grand Moffs and . . . the Emperor.”
    A strident shout erupted from one of the sensor officers on the other side of the MC75’s bridge.
    “Admiral! We’re picking up three, no, four dozen hyperspace reversions. All Imperial size or larger! And . . . by the force . . .”
    I swiveled, and brought up the force board. Name after name of Imperial ships flickered on. Chimaera. Tyrant. Avenger. Unrepentant. Intimidator. Interrogator. Venom . . . and at the end, three that had been on the top of the Intelligence briefings for months. Aggressor. Whelm. Dominion.
    The light of Coruscant’s star was blotted out by the shadow of the three Super Star Destroyers. Nantz turned and shouted.
    “Launch everything! We need a fighter screen, and fast. Concetrate fire on the closest Star Destroyer, and move back towards the planet. We need cover fire from those Golans!”
    My fingers danced across the comms board, as the Count Dooku turned away, moving back. Lances of fire erupted from the Imperials, dancing across the shields of the New Republic fleet. The Dreadnought Peregrine, the former flagship of Garm Bel Iblis, was holed, and started drifting, while the Tarsus Valorum simply vanished as it’s reactor went up.
    “Count Dooku, this is Jabiim Leader! We just lost half the squadron! Where the hell did they –“
    The starfighter’s designation vanished off the comm board.
    “Admiral, we just lost Jabiim Squadron!”
    Nantz’s face was stony. Silent. The ship shook as another turbolaser blast hit the shields. The Whelm moved forwards, slowly, as wing after wing of TIEs descended.
    “Ensign.”
    Nantz’s voice was soft.
    “Tell the rest of the fleet to move back to the planet. We’ll buy them time.”
    I keyed in the command even as the words finally trickled into my head. A single MC75 against three Super Star Destroyers . . . this was a death sentence. Tulon was white as snow. Not a single sound could be heard across the bridge.
    “Yes . . . yes, sir.”
    The Dooku stopped its turn, bringing its full broadside to bear. X-Wings and A-Wings, aged ARC-170s and Z-95s flew past, moving back into the range of the planetary defenses as the Dooku’s turbolasers fired again and again. The Star Destroyers advanced, the relentless drive of KDY engines moving despite the Mon Cal laserfire and the scattered torpedo from whatever was left of Jabiim, Saber, and Orange Squadrons.
    A shudder, as the shields failed in the aft banks. I worked automatically, ignoring the shouted cries of damage control teams and weapons crews. I copied and forwarded our comms logs, sending them to the Golans and the rest of the First. Maybe they could derive some intelligence from them.
    Another blast, and Aggressor burned a hole in our plating. Another turbolaser bank went silent.
    A red light flashed on my comms console.
    “Admiral Nantz, I have a message from Admiral Wermis on the Whelm. He’s demanding our surrender.”
    Nantz smiled, and looked out the viewport. “Target the Whelm’s bridge. That’s our reply.”
    The Dooku’s two remaining batteries fired, defiantly but futilely.
    Whelm drew alongside, the Super Star Destroyer dwarfing the smaller Mon Calamari cruiser. Bursts of turbolaser fire severed the lowered command pylon of the Dooku, as explosions erupted throughout the upper hull.
    I, at the last moment, sent the letter that I never meant to send, firing it off towards my parents at Ord Mantell.
    Then everything went black.
     
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