Authorsan - IFUCKING LOVE CAFFEINE RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
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****
Two weeks after the attack near Nimura Drift, the pattern had become impossible to ignore.
It was never one decisive blow which honestly that would have been easier, just get this over and done it I am positive as long as no sector fleets are thrown at us we'd be fine.
Instead it was a constant series of small attacks at all times of the day.
Pirates probing the outer lanes, mercs running aggressive, short-hop routes attacking anything they can and either dying or fleeing, slaver ships were the most annoying and the trickiest to get, they are testing the edges of the allied systems, never committing fully, always slipping away the moment real force arrived.
None of the incidents were large enough to justify a major redeployment on their own or even a call for reinforcement or pirate suppression fleet, but all over together, they were exhausting.
I stood in the command centre reviewing the latest compiled losses.
A damaged patrol craft here.
A scout ship crippled there.
Two militia boarding teams chewed up during what should have been a routine interdiction.
Nothing overly world ending.
However, crews were running harder and resting less while maintenance cycles were being shortened. The strain was starting to show in the reports, even if no one said it outright.
The mercenaries could not arrive soon enough, both Vesk's Company and the Auralis Free Wing were due within the next several days or less and once they were on station, some of the pressure could be redistributed.
Until then, we were covering too much space with too few fresh assets which will hinder their effectiveness in long term.
I closed the loss summary and opened another file.
If manpower was the bottleneck, then I needed force multipliers that did not require crews I did not have, which are cheap orbital platforms or older defensive satellites.
It would pair well with any surplus patrol ships and light gunboats that could be purchased quietly and for rather cheap and brought online without drawing too much attention. None of it would be elegant.
Most of it would be second-line equipment at best but every platform and every hull I could crew with droids was one less gap my organic forces had to stretch to cover.
I made a series of notes on the pad.
Priority on defensive platforms for the main systems.
Secondary priority on light ships that could be converted quickly.
Full droid crewing for all of them. Manpower was already too thin to waste on secondary hulls.
Possibly acquiring better high speed cheap fighters like M3-A Scyk fighters, they are funnily enough 5,000 -10,000 credits cheaper on the market than TIE's and are way better, and they are shielded and have hyperdrive. It just that TIE fighters are pushed by politics and are seen as the 'military' choice which inflate their prices when TIE fighters should realistically cost only 10,000 but instead cost 60,000
Problem with Scyks is that they are made by MandalMotors, Mandalorians.
On the other side of the galaxy.
I am also an imperial governor, I dont think they'd sell it in bulk to me or give me a license to make my own, so I either have to somehow persuade them or steal them. Could have my merry band of Mandalorians try and make a deal for me but I doubt it would work..
I shut the file and leaned back in the chair, the small attacks were not trying to destroy us outright, maybe if all the attacks so far were in one massive attack we would suffer losses, yes. But we would have pushed them back.
Instead they were trying to wear us down, battle of attrition and endurance, and until the mercenaries arrived and the new platforms began coming online, there was very little I could do except keep absorbing the hits.
I cant even enjoy that premium Alderann wine I bought from the core, woe is me.
**FEW DAYS LATER**
I closed the after-action report with a slow exhale.
The massed slaver push against Elyria itself had been broken before it could fully form.
Our patrol screens had intercepted the main group at the edge of the system and forced them into a running fight the losses on our side were minimal minor damage to two gunships and a handful of injured crew.
The slavers, on the other hand, had arrived in what barely qualified as spaceships, most of their vessels were little more than flying metal tubs: crude hulls wrapped in oversized shield generators, armed with a single light cannon each. They were fast, awkward, and surprisingly durable under fire, but once their formations broke they had little choice but to run.
Most of them escaped into hyperspace before we could finish the job, annoying and persistent but not decisive.
I was still making notes on the engagement when a priority alert flared across the main display.
Multiple contacts dropping out of hyperspace at the system edge.
Two distinct fleet signatures.
Capital-scale readings.
For half a second my blood ran cold then the IFF codes resolved.
Vesk's Company.
Auralis Free Wing.
I leaned back in the chair and let out a long, sharp breath, the tension draining from my shoulders in a rush that almost left me lightheaded more than when I accidentally chugged that Zyggerian sun water that tastes like Oranges.
But on Dave Filoni's hat I for one ugly moment I had thought another major attack had just jumped in on top of us.
I buzzed my communicator.
"Alert the landing pads," I said. "I'm going down to meet them."
By the time I reached the main military landing platform, both mercenary groups were already beginning their final approach. Vesk's heavy cruiser and its three light consorts settled into assigned positions with blunt efficiency.
While the Auralis ships followed in cleaner formation, their hangars already cycling as fighter screens held a polite but professional perimeter.
Honestly the N-1 starfighters that Auralis have look even better in person than they ever did in the movies, holy those are some beauties, if I ever have the money I would love to purchase one for myself.
Maybe I will start a starfighter collection? Anyways.
I waited at the edge of the primary pad with Torv, Jaster, Varn and a small honor guard as the lead shuttles descended.
Captain Vesk was first down the ramp he was broad, scarred, and exactly as blunt in person as he had been over holo.
While Captain Sera Valen followed a moment later, sharp-eyed and composed, the bearing of a professional pilot rather than a common hired gun, honestly she also has that royal or noble aura. Maybe she is a noble from Naboo? But a noble from Naboo wouldn't really be a mercenary now would they.
"Welcome to Elyria," I said. "I'm glad you both made it."
Vesk gave a short nod. "Looks like we arrived at a busy time."
"You could say that, tourism is positively 'booming'." I gestured for them to walk with me.
"We've been dealing with a constant stream of small attacks for the past two weeks. Pirates, smugglers, slavers, mercenaries none of them particularly impressive on their own, but there are enough of them that they're keeping our forces stretched. They never go for a decisive battle, which makes eradicating them and preventing them form coming back rather difficult."
Sera Valen glanced toward the skyline of Havenridge, then back at me. "Death by a thousand cuts."
"Exactly."
Vesk grunted. "Fucking craven bastards."
I allowed a thin smile at that. "We'll go over the full situation with my officers," I said. "Current threat patterns, patrol gaps, rules of engagement, and where I want your forces deployed. If you're ready, we can begin immediately."
****
The meeting room was already full by the time I entered with Vesk and Sera Valen.
Those that came with me were supplemented by holo-images of several patrol captains, and a cluster of senior militia officers along with Mandalorians. The latest attack maps floated above it in layered red and orange tracks two weeks of constant harassment laid out in neat, exhausting patterns.
I took my place at the head of the table."You've all seen the reports," I said. "The question is how we stop this from continuing."
That was all it took, Karlchlan spoke first. "We should tighten the defensive perimeter. Pull outer patrols closer to the main systems and force them to come deeper if they want to hit us."
"That abandons the outer lanes," Varn shot back. "The moment we do that, they'll start picking off independent traffic again and isolating the secondary settlements."
A logistics officer leaned forward. "Then we need more weapons, more gunships, more firepower. If we can't cover the space with what we have, we expand the inventory."
"And pay for it how?" Ridge asked. "We're already stretching the budget. If this keeps up, we may need to consider external financing."
That drew a few sharp looks. "You're talking about a Banking Clan loan, we would never break free of them they would just keep making up new payments and we would become another one of their so called 'cattle' worlds." Reza said flatly.
"If the alternative is getting bled to death by a hundred small cuts, yes."
The argument expanded from there.
Tighten the net.
Expand the net.
Buy more ships, hire more mercenaries, take on debt.
Every suggestion carried its own risk, and every officer seemed convinced their approach was the only one that didn't invite disaster.
Vesk listened for a while with his arms folded, expression increasingly unimpressed. Finally he let out a short, rough scoff. "You're all talking like the problem is the fucking weather," he said. "It isn't. From the reports you've shown us, these groups are pulling from the same kind of gear and the same kind of funding that doesn't come from nowhere, someone is supplying them. Maybe from one main base. Maybe from a few either find where those bastards are launching from and burn it out, or kill enough of them that whoever is paying for this decides it's no longer worth the cost."
The room quieted. A few officers exchanged glances. The idea was so simple, so blunt and to the point.
Someone is attacking you and the bastards are cowards? Go on the attack and string them up by their balls in their own home.
Which was probably why it cut through the noise.
Sera Valen stepped in before the discussion could scatter again. "My people have advanced tracking packages," she said. "Small, hard to detect with a anti-scanner jammer built in, designed for multiple sector long pursuits. We engage one of these raiding groups, damage them enough to panic them, and let them run with a tracker attached if they fall back to a central staging point, we'll know and from there we can raid their data cores and extract information from anyone alive."
That set off a second, sharper round of debate.
"If they don't have a central base, we waste time chasing ghosts."
"If they do have one, this is the cleanest way to find it without committing the whole fleet."
"It's still a risk. We could lose the pursuing ships."
"It's less of a risk than waiting until we're too exhausted to respond to a real attack."
I let them argue long enough to surface the real problems, then raised a hand, and the room fell silent.
Kind of feels like that one scene from kingdom of heaven with king Baldwin.
"We do it," I said. "Captain Valen's method, we pick a suitable raiding group, hit them hard enough to force a retreat, and plant the trackers. If we get a location, we reassess before any larger strike, but when we strike I want interrogation droids already charged up to the full along with medical droid to keep the bastards alive."
I looked around the table.
"In the meantime, defensive coverage remains in place, no major withdrawals or change of plans, and no we wont take a loan that will spiral out of control. We work with what we can actually control."
A few officers still looked uncertain, but no one objected openly.
Vesk gave a short, approving grunt. Sera Valen simply nodded once.
Hopefully they are all sitting nice and tidy in one place, along with all their credits, valuables and supplies.
**2 DAYS LATER**
Lieutenant Rynn Solara adjusted the fit of her flight gloves as the hangar lights of the Auralis carrier washed over the polished chrome-and-yellow hull of her N-1 starfighter, even after more than a decade of flying in it she always marvelled at the beauty of it.
The N-1 was a beautiful sleek machine with narrow design it was built for speed and precision rather than brute force its twin blaster cannons sat in the forward forks, paired with a proton torpedo launcher that most pilots treated as overkill for the kind of work they were doing today.
The deflector shields were unusually strong for a fighter of its size, and the engines could push the ship through turns that would tear lesser craft apart. Even after years of flying them the wear and tear on it has been minimal, helps that she and others treat the machines with meticulous care.
Rynn still felt a quiet satisfaction every time the systems came online beneath her hands."All wings, this is Solara," she said over the squadron channel. "We have a confirmed slaver sighting on the outer approach to Korrin Reach, light force. Multiple small transports and a pair of armed escorts. Standard intercept package.
Remember the brief we are not here to wipe them out."
A chorus of acknowledgments and light disappointed comments came back.
The squadron launched in clean sequence, twelve N-1s forming up in pairs as they cleared the carrier's bay and accelerated into the black. The stars stretched slightly as they pushed to combat speed, the formation tightening with the easy precision of pilots who had flown together for years.
It did not take long to find the targets, the slavers were running a loose cluster of six blocky transports and two aging escort gunships, all of them burning hard along a shallow vector that would eventually take them toward the less-patrolled edges of the system.
Not that its the governors fault or the captains, they simply did not have enough ships to be everywhere at all times and its only natural to prioritise heavy traffic points.
The slaver ships looked exactly like what they were scavenged, overworked, and held together by more hope and prayers than engineering.
"Visual contact," Rynn said. "All wings, engage. Keep it tight, make them dance for us."
The N-1s dropped onto the slavers like a polished blade, from the outside, it must have looked aggressive. The yellow fighters swept in at high speed, breaking into overlapping attack vectors, laser fire stitching bright lines across the void.
One of the escort gunships took a glancing burst across its shields and veered hard out of formation while a transport's engine flared as a warning shot scored along its flank.
Inside her cockpit, Rynn felt almost bored and sighed as she rolled through a lazy arc, letting her targeting computer paint the nearest gunship before she fired a controlled burst that deliberately washed across its upper shields instead of punching through them.
The gunship panicked and broke away, dumping power into its engines. "They're scattering," one of her wingmen reported, voice dry.
"Oh come on! Already? I didn't even get to hit anything once."
"Jackson, be quiet. Everyone stay on top of them," Rynn replied. "Do not finish the escorts, herd the group."
The N-1s moved with effortless precision, where the slavers turned hard, the Naboo fighters turned harder.
Where the transports tried to use one another for cover, the squadron cut the angles off with almost insulting ease. A pair of N-1s flashed past a lumbering slaver ship close enough that the crew inside must have seen the chrome hulls with the naked eye, only for the fighters to pull up at the last moment and rake the void just ahead of their cockpit viewports.
It was not a battle, it would be an insult to call it that. It was more like herding cattle to the slaughterhouse.
Rynn watched her sensors as the slavers' formation completely collapsed the two gunships were trying to cover a fighting retreat and failing while the transports were burning at maximum output, their captains clearly convinced they were seconds from destruction, perfect.
"Tracker teams, free to engage," she ordered.
Two of the trailing N-1s broke slightly wider and fired, the tracking packages were small, dull-coated, and almost invisible against the clutter of engine wash and debris, one latched cleanly onto the hull of a fleeing transport. Another fixed itself to the ventral ridge of the second gunship while a third found a home on the rearmost slaver freighter as it desperately clawed toward a hyperspace vector, fourth missed the other gunship by a small margin."
Trackers away and reading clean," came the confirmation, Rynn allowed herself a thin smile behind her helmet.
"Keep the pressure on until the majority jump, do not harm the ones with the trackers." she said.
The squadron continued the pursuit just long enough to sell the performance, a few more warning bursts and some more passes that forced the slavers to keep running instead of thinking.
One by one, the enemy ships reached safe distance and ripped into hyperspace, their forms stretching into light before vanishing some slavers got shut down but non with trackers so that's good.
When the last of them disappeared, the N-1s pulled out of the chase in a clean upward arc and reformed, Rynn glanced over the sensor board. Three solid tracker signals were already translating along projected escape vectors."
All wings, disengage and return to carrier," she said. "Package delivered."
As the squadron turned for home, Rynn eased back in her seat and let the N-1 settle into cruising flight. The whole engagement had lasted only a few minutes, in that time they could have destroyed the entire slaver group twice over but instead gave them a pat on the back and even a gift to take home with them, Aurelis Free Wing sure is generous even to the most downtrodden.
**1 DAY LATER**
A full day passed after the tracker signals stayed in the same space for prolonged periods of time which allowed us to scout out the location.
I stood in the main command center with the core of my officers arranged around the holotable as the final data package resolved into a clear system plot, the they had settled into a tight cluster roughly two systems away from Elyria, inside a place most starcharts barely bothered to name.
Three planets with barely a million inhabitants spread across all of them with no major industry to speak of or meaningful trade hubs, there is also no recorded Imperial garrison of any real size.
According to the latest intelligence, the entire system had been effectively abandoned to pirates, slavers, and whatever other scavengers had moved in. The occupation had been ongoing for at least two months, local authority had collapsed so completely that the system's supposed governor was no longer even present reports placed him comfortably in the sector capital, living well while his assigned world rotted.
There was no defence fleet, no functioning planetary government.
Just a lawless pocket that had been allowed to fester that alone was another mark against Jerjerrod. Imperial law did not look kindly on Moffs who allowed systems under their authority to fall into open pirate control, especially when the collapse was this complete and it affected not only Elyria but other systems as well.
It seems the scum did not take kindly to them getting beaten up on daily basis so they have also been raiding other systems, going as far as to different sectors under a different Moff.
The holotable shifted to the main planet, a massive depot complex dominated one of the larger continental shelves sprawling landing fields, storage domes, crude shipyards, and defensive emplacements thrown up in uneven layers, around it, the enemy force estimates continued to update as more passive scans and long-range probe data came in.
Roughly one hundred and twenty ships, most of them were patchwork junk converted freighters, aging patrol craft, and scavenged warships held together by desperation and stolen parts.
Only a handful of frigates, light cruisers, and corvettes looked truly dangerous, supporting them were around four hundred fighters, gunships, and smaller attack craft of wildly mixed quality.
Ground estimates were less precise, but the working numbers settled in the range of seven to eight thousand organic fighters, backed by approximately twelve hundred droids of various makes and conditions, enough to hold a fortified depot against weak opposition.
Not enough, on paper, to stop a properly coordinated assault thankfully, though their planetside gun emplacements even if of bad quality are still dangerous.
I looked around the table. "This is the scum lair," I said. "We need to hit it hard enough to break the network feeding these raids and then mop up the rest and extract any valuable information, naval control first. Ground assault second."
The force commitment formed in layers above the holomap as officers fed in current readiness data.
For the naval element we would commit both mercenary companies in full.
Auralis Free Wing would bring their two light cruisers and full complement of one hundred N-1 starfighters.
Vesk's Company would deploy their heavy cruiser, three light cruisers, and roughly sixty mixed fighters, predominantly RZ-1 A-wing interceptors.
From our own forces:
Iron Reaver
Eight cruisers, three heavy and five light, including captured vessels such as Bloodfang and Reaver.
All seven Nebulon-B2 frigates
Ten CR90 corvettes
Both Acclamators
Forty patrol craft and skiffs
Twelve heavy haulers configured as troop transports
Fighter and bomber strength would include:150 TIEs
75 Z-95 Headhunters
30 TIE bombers
30 Y-wings
47 mixed leftover fighters, including Scyks and Skiprays
10 Kom'rk-class fighters
For the ground assault we would commit nearly everything that could be spared without stripping the four systems bare: Approximately 2,500 stormtroopers drawn from all four worlds
Around 100 palace guards.
5,000 militia from all four worlds.
Approximately 250 Mandalorian warriors.
It was a major deployment. Not the full strength of the subsector, we cant be leaving the worlds completely defenceless but close enough that failure would cripple us.
I studied the final force projection in silence for a few seconds, the enemy had numbers, but little cohesion.
We had better ships, better pilots, and far better ground troops.
****
The planning session lasted nearly four hours.By the time the final force allocations locked into place above the holotable, the command center felt more like a war room than an administrative chamber.
Every major captain, wing leader, ground commander, and mercenary representative was present either in person or by secure holo.
The target system floated in the centre of the table in layered detail: three planets, four primary hyperspace exit vectors, the main depot complex, and every known defence concentration our probes had managed to map.
I stood at the head of the table and let the room settle before speaking. "This will not be a slow envelopment," I said. "We hit them with speed and simultaneous pressure. The objective is simple: deny escape, shatter their fleet, seize the depot, and clear the system. No prolonged siege if we can avoid it, the faster we are out the better. This operation and subsequent clean up is to take a day, after that we leave and blow anything we cant take."
The holomap shifted, highlighting the four hyperspace exit vectors in red."Those are the only viable clean jump lanes out of the system based on current stellar mass distribution and local gravity wells. We close all four at the opening of the engagement."
I turned to Reza. "Naval plan first."
Reza stepped forward and expanded the system view. "We will enter from four separate vectors in coordinated realspace reversion. Timing tolerance is tight no more than a thirty-second variance across the entire force." He highlighted the assignments."
Task Force One Iron Reaver, two heavy cruisers, three Nebulon-B2 frigates, and four CR90s will revert on the primary approach to the main planet. Their job is to drive straight at the largest concentration of enemy capital ships and pin them against the planetary gravity well. Iron Reaver leads. The heavy cruisers form the anvil. Frigates and corvettes screen against flanking attempts."
"Task Force Two Vesk's Company in full, reinforced by one heavy cruiser and two light cruisers from our own forces will take the second exit vector. Captain Vesk, your boarding strength is the key here. You will not only block the lane, you will aggressively close on any enemy ships that attempt to break past and cripple them for capture if possible."
Vesk gave a short nod. "We can do that."
"Task Force Three Auralis Free Wing, both light cruisers, full N-1 complement, supported by two of our light cruisers and three Nebulon-B2s will seal the third vector. Captain Valen, your fighters will have free range to hunt anything that tries to run. Prioritize enemy bombers and faster craft firs"
Sera Valen's holo image inclined her head. "Understood."
"Task Force Four both Acclamators, the remaining light cruisers, the rest of the Nebulon-B2s, CR90s, and the bulk of our patrol craft will close the final exit and serve as the mobile reserve. If any enemy concentration tries to mass and force a lane, Task Force Four reinforces and crushes it." Reza adjusted the map again, showing fighter allocations."
Fighter operations will be layered. Auralis N-1s handle high-value pursuit and precision intercepts. A-wings from Vesk's contingent will perform fast-response interception. Z-95s and TIEs will form the main engagement screens around the capital ships. Y-wings and TIE bombers are reserved for coordinated anti-ship runs once enemy screens are disrupted. and for close air support once ground forces are engaged. Kom'rks remain under Mandalorian control for flexible strike and support roles all across the battlefield."
I took over again as the map shifted to the planets."Ground operations begin only after local space superiority is established over each world. We do not land into contested orbital space if it can be avoided."
The main planet expanded first."Primary objective is the depot complex. That is the heart of their logistics network and the reason this system matters."
I nodded toward Torv and Jaster."Ground assault command for the main depot will be joint. Torv holds overall coordination for stormtrooper and militia elements. Jaster commands the Mandalorian contingent and spearhead operations. We land five thousand troops on the main world in the first wave: fifteen hundred stormtroopers, three thousand militia, and two hundred Mandalorians. The remaining forces stay in reserve for reinforcement or secondary objectives and to secure the smaller depots on the other 2 worlds."
Equipment package for the main assault resolved above the table: Standard stormtrooper loadouts with expanded heavy weapon support and additional CQC supplies like shotguns, extra grenades and plasma breaching charges.
Militia squads with additional dedicated sniper and heavy repeaters.
Mandalorian units equipped for rapid breach and shock assault with small plasma shields and a generous amount of various explosives.
There will be some light mobile artillery and mortar sections and missile launchers.
A limited number of armoured speeders and troop carriers along with a few scavenged, patched up tanks like 4 2-M Saber-class repulsor tank and 5 heavily modified TX-130 Saber-class fighter tanks
Combat engineers with demolitions and door-breaching charges along with interference and hacking equipment will be spread out between different companies.
"Tactics are straightforward," I continued. "Lightning landings at three points around the depot. Mandalorians hit the command and control nodes first. Stormtroopers push the main avenues and landing fields while militia expands the cordon and prevents breakout into the surrounding settlements and closes the gap and cleans up any stragglers and provides support for Stormtroopers and Mandalorians. Secure the depot, seize data cores, munitions, and any intact ships on the ground."
The holomap shifted to the second planet. "Secondary world, smaller population centres, suspected holding pens and secondary storage sites. We commit a lighter force: four hundred stormtroopers, one thousand militia, and twenty-five Mandalorians. Objective is rapid seizure of major settlements, liberation of captives if present, and denial of any secondary staging fields. Speed over thoroughness. If resistance is light, we garrison temporarily and move on."
Then the third planet. "Tertiary world. Minimal infrastructure most likely used for concealment and temporary berthing. We send a small combined detachment only one hundred stormtroopers, five hundred militia, and the remaining Mandalorians if available. Their job is to sweep, destroy any hidden facilities, and ensure nothing of value remains operational behind us."
I looked around the room. "Rules of engagement: enemy combatants who surrender are to be taken alive when feasible. Leadership, organizers, and anyone tied to the wider network are high-value targets to be taken alive, we need prisoners and data over body counts."
Reza spoke again. "Extraction and contingency?"
"If the naval fight turns against us on any vector or they receive reinforcements, Task Force Four is authorized to abandon pursuit and reinforce the compromised lane. If a ground landing is in danger of being overrun, we pull back to the ships rather than reinforce failure and bomb them into submission without taking the entire place down with them. This is a strike operation, not a crusade. We break their base of operations and leave them unable to continue the campaign against our systems from these planets and get actionable intel on who is supplying them."
Silence held for a few seconds as the full plan rotated above the holotable in layered detail jump vectors, force allocations, landing zones, contingency branches.
Finally Vesk grunted and gave a predatory smile. "It's aggressive. I fucking love it, I thought you'd be some wet behind the ears brat who is indecisive but it seems I was wrong."
Sera Valen studied the fighter assignments one last time and replied simply, though there is a hint of approval on her face. "My pilots can hold their lanes."
I rested my hands on the edge of the table.
"Then we are agreed, final prep begins immediately. We launch as soon as all forces are in position."
I looked at every commander in turn. "Dismissed. You all know your roles."
The room began to clear, and people disconnected, officers already moving with purpose, voices low and focused as the plan transitioned from theory into motion. The attack was no longer a possibility, it was a schedule.