Transport Capture

The six assault transports rocketed toward their target freighters, weaving through debris from shattered capital ships and fighters. Inside Transport Five-Six, Sonya adjusted her chest plate, eyes sweeping the mixed contingent of marines—scarred veterans beside wide-eyed rookies. It felt like Omega was starting to gel well, figuring out each teammate's strengths and weaknesses.

Kat stowed her datapad as the drop master barked, “One minute to dock!”

Kat gave her gear a final check. “Once the breach charges go off, Sonya storms through hard and fast, followed by James, Alex, and me as rear guard. We move to secure the hold while the marines secure the breachhead and push toward the bridge.”

James shot her a skeptical glance. “No offense, lass, but just the four of us for the hold?”

“We cloak the second we’re in. The marines will support us after they complete their tasks.” Kat smirked. “Besides, they gave you a plasma LAW along with your light repeater, so you can deal with armor or Tank Men.”

“Twenty seconds!”

They unstrapped and took up positions around the airlock, readying weapons as the transport slammed home with a metallic clang. The drop master monitored the seals. “Soft seal confirmed. Cutting charges set… Fire in the hole!”

Cutting paste flared white-hot, searing through the freighter's outer door. A secondary charge thudded, punching the panel inward. “Breach achieved! Opening airlock!”

Sonya flicked her SMG's safety off and surged forward the instant the door cleared—braced for a storm of fire that never came. Only crimson emergency lighting bathed the silent corridor. She advanced to the intersection, slicing the pie as the team stacked behind her, boots ringing on deck plates.

“No welcoming committee,” James muttered, covering the far side.

Kat's instincts screamed ambush—these were textbook choke points. She glanced back at the marines. “Eyes sharp. If this cargo matters, they'll fight for it. Omega—cloak up and move.”

Cloaking fields shimmered alive. Omega glided right with practiced precision while the marines took left toward the bridge.

Nearing the hold, James whispered, “Wouldn't it figure if it actually is just mundane supplies.”

Alex covered the rear. “I could live with an easy op after the last one.”

Kat reached the blast door sealing the multi-level cargo bay. “Locked. Give me a second.” She deployed her lock-breakers and went to work.

The others readied themselves as red flipped to green; the door rumbled upward. Sonya rolled beneath it, weapon sweeping, the others flowing in cloaked formation. Kat sealed the door behind them and surveyed the vast space: stacked containers labeled Spartan VI cloning cylinders, biogel tanks, catalyst crystal containers. Hazmat-suited technicians worked on the catwalks while Blackwatch troopers patrolled.

Kat breathed, “'Miscellaneous equipment,' my ass. Enough biogel and cloning gear to outfit a fleet.”

Sonya peered through grating. “Tangos below—Blackwatch patrols.”

Alex spotted movement amid containers. “Frack. Two Tank Men on this level.”

Kat's jaw clenched. “We go loud, we lose stealth and all hell breaks loose.”

Sonya holstered her SMG. “Tank Men are the priority. Separate them and I can drop them quietly.”

“Tricky on these walkways, lass.”

Alex hissed, “Incoming—bow side.”

Kat spotted them. “Move to the stern, quietly.”

Sonya’s voice was ice-calm, but determined. “One, I can take them, but it could get messy and loud.”

Kat hesitated. “You’ve only had three activations.”

“Two were strength—we have to face them eventually. I’d at least have surprise.”

Kat quickly weighed their options, none good. “Fine. We’ll pull back, ready to go hot. Take them when you’re ready.”

The familiar rush surged as Sonya dropped into stance. “Yes, ma’am.”

She froze, minimizing distortion as the Tank Men rounded the corner, chatting idly.

“We should be up defending the bridge or engineering, not babysitting cargo.”

“They’ve got enough troops guarding those two points—nothing’s going to get through before they either get the hyperdrive working again or reinforcements arrive. Besides, they haven’t even had time to field any Tank Men.”

“Then explain what happened at that research outpost. They found two dead Tank Men outside and five in the ruble.”

“The ones inside were probably killed by the blast, and the pair outside probably just got unlucky—we don’t even know if they were even fully…”

Sonya felt Reflex energy shift inside her, malleable. She channeled it into raw muscle enhancement—power and speed flooding her limbs. She exploded forward, crescent kick shattering the first Tank Man’s neck with a wet crunch. As he crumpled into his partner, Sonya was a blur, palm strike crushing the second’s windpipe. He clutched his throat, unable to scream. She seized his helmet in a reverse grip and twisted, his spine snapping like green wood.

She quickly grabbed both and eased them down without a sound. The others stared in stunned disbelief as Sonya made sure the second was dead, then searched their utility belts and took their access keys. She stood up and started quietly making her way back, feeling the energy surge fade, leaving behind a dull ache. The rush lingered, intoxicating.  She whispered into her comms, “Tangos down.” She pulled a cloth from a pouch and wiped the blood off her gloves before it could give her away.

Kat found her voice as Sonya wiped off the last of the blood and became almost invisible again. “How…?”

“We’ll talk about it later. I overheard them saying there are a lot of troops defending the bridge and engineering—I don’t think we can count on being reinforced anytime soon.”

Kat nodded. “Ok, let’s try to clear each catwalk quietly. Two, take Four and go down the starboard ladder. Three and I will go down the port one. Let us know when you’re ready to descend.”

“Roger that.”

Kat and James quietly made their way to the port ladder and waited for Sonya and Alex to reach the starboard one. After a few moments, Sonya activated her comms, whispering, “Ready.”

Kat reflexively nodded as she slung her sniper rifle over her shoulder and responded in kind. “Go, go, go.”

Kat grabbed the outside of the ladder and slid down to the next catwalk, touching down lightly. She unslung her rifle and proceeded toward the bow, stopping dead as James slid down behind her. She whispered, “We’ve got two Blackwatch over here approaching us.”

Sonya had moved to a crouched position, whispering back. “Got two over here as well—preparing to move in and take them out.”

“You’re clear to engage.”

Kat and James crept forward into knife range. Blood from the dead Tank Men dripped from the catwalk above, spattering across the Blackwatch troopers’ visors. One wiped his helmet and looked up. His hand moved toward his comm.

“Intrud—”

Kat and James opened fire. Blaster bolts punched through armor. Both troopers dropped. Kat keyed her headset. “We’re blown—go loud!”

The hold erupted into chaos.

Blaster bolts screamed out, crisscrossing the multi-story hold toward where Kat and James fired from, ricochets sparking off catwalks and cargo containers, forcing them to displace and find cover. Blackwatch troopers poured onto the catwalks, rifles spitting blue fire. Security droids scuttled out of hiding places along the walls, red targeting lasers sweeping for targets.  Technicians scrambled for cover.

Alex’s assault rifle spat a burst that burned into a Blackwatch trooper’s chest armor on a lower catwalk, sending him sprawling backward. Sonya charged the two Blackwatch she had been stalking. Their visors caught the shimmer of her cloak a half-second too late.

“Contact front—”

She slammed both palms into their chest plates. The armor deformed under the impact. The troopers flew backward over the railing, tumbling two levels down into the containers below.

Kat dropped behind a container and poked around it firing with precision, shots hitting two charging Blackwatch, knocking them backward to the ground, armor smoking where the bolts cut through. “Three, suppress port! Two, clear the center!”

Sonya was already moving, cloak shimmering as she vaulted a railing and landed catwalk-level with a squad. Her halo flared—three distortion orbs materialized with precision, and heads vanished in wet crimson bursts. She rolled under the panic fire of the remaining Blackwatch, came up inside their guard, and drove an elbow through his visor. The trooper dropped, gurgling blood.

Alex cast quickly. Spectral chains lashed out and wrapped the spider-droid’s legs just as its targeting laser locked onto Sonya. He yanked hard. The droid tore free from the wall and crashed onto its back on the catwalk in front of him, legs flailing. Alex brought his assault rifle up and shredded its core in a burst of sparks.

Three more Tank Men burst through a hatch, eyes already glowing.

James’s jaw tightened. “Frack me.”

The lead Tank Man charged Sonya. Their distortion orbs met in a violent clash that shredded nearby cargo containers. The catwalk between them screamed and collapsed. Sonya flipped clear and came up firing, her SMG shredding a spider-droid that had locked onto her.

The Tank Man leapt the gap and landed ten meters away, cracking his knuckles.

James dropped to one knee, let his repeater hang, and pulled the plasma LAW free. “Clear back-blast!”

The rocket streaked across the hold and detonated center-mass. Armor, flesh, and bone vanished in a sun-bright flash. What remained of the Tank Man collapsed at the feet of the other two.

Silence for half a heartbeat.

The two surviving Tank Men roared and charged.

Sonya met the first head-on. She deflected his swing and drove her fist into his face. Bone and armor gave way. Her cutting beam lanced out from her hand, punched through his skull, and exited the back of his helmet in a spray of blood and bone.

The second Tank Man’s blow caught her across the forearms. Guards cracked. Bone fractured. She flew backward across the catwalk.

“Duck, lass!” James shouted.

Sonya flattened. The second plasma rocket took the remaining Tank Man in the upper chest. Another blinding detonation. He went down the same way as the first.

The last security droids locked onto Sonya. Her eyes flared—not the usual Tank Man white, but a deep sapphire. Distortion orbs tore both droids apart.

James dropped the empty launcher and brought his repeater up, cutting down the last cluster of Blackwatch trying to advance. Kat rose from cover and dropped the final three with precision shots.

The hold fell silent except for the ringing in their ears and the hiss of cooling metal.

Kat kept her rifle up, scanning. “Clear?”

Sonya pushed herself up, forearms screaming. The sapphire glow in her eyes had faded, but the fatigue hit harder than usual. She leaned against the railing, breathing steadily, and scanned the lower level.

“We’ve got a half-dozen techs trying to hide down there,” she said.

James decloaked and pointed his repeater toward the containers. “Hands up, lads. Don’t make us restart the party.”

One tech slowly raised his hands, set his sidearm on the deck, and stepped away from it.

“Smart move lad—I hope your friends are just as smart.”

The other techs quickly followed suit as Alex slid down the ladders to where they were, pulling out zip cuffs to restrain them. Kat switched frequencies on her headset. “Omega One to Marines—hold secure, six prisoners.”

Heavy fire crackled in the reply. “This is Kilo One-Three. We are almost to the bridge—meeting stiff resistance.”

“This is Kilo One-Five. Engineering is ours. It looks like the ion effects are fading, but they sabotaged the hyperdrive—we’d need a repair team and parts to fix it.”

Irena cut in, “Acknowledged, Kilo One-Five. Similar situation on the other freighters. If you can get the engines running, we’ll have you dock and transfer the cargo off.”

Kat looked around. “Be advised, my freighter is loaded with biogel, regen tanks, as well as cloning cylinders.”

There was a long pause before Irena came back. “Freighter three will dock first. Flight will coordinate.”

Back on the Avenger, Greg looked at the chrono. “We’re running out of time. Jan, recall all craft except for the CAP.” He keyed engineering. “Actual to Maria—I have a question.”

Maria’s gruff and gravelly voice responded. “Let me guess—you want to know if we can extend the fold bubble enough to get the freighters in it?”

Greg chuckled. “I take it you’ve already been working on that.”

“Theoretically, it can be done, the freighters have to be in tight to us.”

Greg nodded. “We’ll do our best. Thanks, Chief.” He turned to the marines and security section. “Irena, have your marines bring the transports two and three to dock. Transport one needs to get as close as it can to our ventral side. Coordinate with Flight Ops.” He turned to the other side of the CIC where flight ops was. “Jan, pull the CAP and have the dropships RTS as soon as the freighters are close.”

Jan looked up from her tactical ops board. “I estimate two minutes until they can begin to dock.”

Hammerly called out, “Massive signature coming out of hyperspace! It’s the Relentless! Bearing nine-two, Mark two-zero, range twenty klicks and closing fast!”

Greg called out, “Concentrate fire on it!” as Irola opened fire with all the broadside guns she could bring to bear. Greg grimaced—they had seconds before the Relentless was lined up to fire either its main gun or the lances. He keyed engineering again. “Chief, tell me you have something to stop those lances!”

Maria growled a response. “Tell weps to cease fire—I’m going to create a barrier.”

Greg looked over at Irola—she had heard and stopped all the batteries and a nearly opaque sapphire barrier materialized.

Meanwhile, onboard the Relentless, Captain Packner watched as the bow shields took a pounding from the Avenger’s batteries while the Relentless returned fire with the batteries they could bring to bear. He looked over at Jarad at the weapons station. “Remember, the Emperor doesn’t want the Avenger destroyed.”

Jarad scowled as the lances slowly rotated into position. “I know, sir. Helm, prepare to turn thirty to rake fire.” He watched with eagerness as his targeting display showed the lances were almost in position. Given the scarceness of Reflex energy, the Emperor had never allowed them to use either the main gun or the lances until today.

The sensor officer called out, “The Avenger has put up some sort of energy barrier! It looks to be made out of Reflex energy.”

Jarad smiled sinisterly as the targeting reticle turned green. “It won’t help them. Helm, begin your turn!” He pressed the switches for both lances, gleefully calling out, “Firing!”

Hammerly called out, “Energy spike from the Relentless—they’re firing their lances!”

John’s voice cut across the CIC. “Brace for impact!”

The deck shuddered as the lances struck. Greg braced himself and watched the holographic damage display, expecting the worst.

On the Relentless, Captain Packner stared as the beams hit the sapphire barrier and flared in an intense flash. The barrier held. Jarad kept the beams on target and increased the intensity, risking overload.

“Helm, reverse your turn!” Packner ordered. “Keep us out of their forward arc! Cease fire on the lances!”

Jarad snarled. “That barrier won’t hold—”

“Not before the lances drain what Reflex energy we have left. Once we’re broadside, we outgun them. Flight, launch fighters off the port side as soon as it’s clear.”

“Damage report!” John called.

The DC chief looked up, surprised. “No structural damage reported. Engineering says they can’t hold the barrier much longer without risking catastrophic feedback.”

Greg let out the breath he’d been holding. “Drop the barrier. Good work, Maria—you just saved our asses.” He glanced at Irola, who had already reopened fire with every battery she could bring to bear. “Helm, bring us around. Jan, launch attack craft from the port side. We’re in a turning fight now.”

The two massive warships traded intense fire, shields flaring as the ships slowly rolled, turning to bring fresh shields to bear. While the Relentless out gunned the Avenger in terms of batteries the Avenger’s Reflex-powered arsenal was more powerful than the Relentless’ turbo lasers and fusion powered particle beams.  As fighters from both sides streamed across the void to engage each other, the Relentless’ shields started to fail first, its hull flashing white where Reflex and Reflex powered particle beams broke through weakened shield sections, blowing apart nodes and turrets with almost sniper-like accuracy.

The Avenger’s shields finally weakened, and fire started impacting the hull, shedding ablative armor. In the CIC, Greg grimaced as more sections of the ship turned yellow and red on the displays, the DC chief calling out damage reports. He looked up at navigation. “Set fold coordinates for Ta’charin space. I want to be able to fold as soon as the freighters are in position.”

John stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Sir, while I appreciate the confidence, this isn’t a sure thing.”

Greg kept his eyes on the tactical display and answered just as quietly. “I never said it was. Look at the tactical.”

John studied it for a moment. The two ships were circling, trading fire. Then he saw it. “We’re taking less and less return fire.”

Greg nodded. “Irola and Striker are hitting like snipers. We’re losing batteries, but nowhere near the rate they are. For every hull breach they open, they’re losing several guns. We’re rapidly defanging them.”

Hammerly called out excitedly, “Secondary explosions coming from the Relentless! We got a couple of their magazines!”

Back on the Relentless, its CIC shook from the internal detonations as their DC chief called out, “Magazines two and five have detonated! Hull breaches reported on all decks! Starboard flight decks report significant damage.”

Packner checked his readout at the tactical table and sighed before calling out, “Nav, calculate a short jump to the nearest friendly system. Flight, you have until we’re in position to jump to recall the fighters. Comms, inform Grand Admiral Kathara of our status and let her know we’re pulling back. Ask her to deploy additional assets to capture the Avenger.”

Jarad cursed silently before speaking. “Sir, we’re still in this fight.”

Packner shook his head. “But at what cost? We can’t count on a lucky hit to turn the tide; besides, we’ve effectively taken the Avenger out of the fight for some time as they repair her. If they manage to disable our hyperdrives or engine power, we’re dead.”

Back on the Avenger Greg studied the tactical. “They’re getting ready to rabbit.”

John allowed himself a thin smile. “Yep, they’re doing combat landings.”

Greg looked up at Irola. “Can you take out their hyperdrive?”

Irola adjusted her fire. “I’ll try, sir, but I’m not sure I can bring enough remaining firepower to bear on it.”

Greg nodded as he looked up at the DRADIS. “Once he bolts—continue with the recovery operation. I doubt we’ll have much time until more ships show up; they’re smelling blood in the water.”

In a blur of pseudomotion, the damaged Relentless jumped away, leaving behind dissipating smoke and debris. John’s smile widened. “We did it! We drove them off!”

Greg looked over at the DC representation of the Avenger and the black and deep red areas. It had been a slugfest, and while the Avenger gave more than it received, it still took a lot of damage. He rubbed his eyes. “Set condition two. Helm, fold out as soon as the freighters are in their positions.”

Five minutes later, the Avenger reappeared from its fold jump in Ta’charin space. In the CIC, Greg surveyed the room as the nav officer called out, “Fold complete.”

Hammerly, unaffected by the jump, scrutinized the sensor data. The advanced DRADIS updated, displaying the bustling space around the multiple dry-docks and the planet. “We’ve successfully jumped into Ta’charin space with a drift of three klicks from the target point.”

Greg nodded. “Probably due to the freighters. Martines, let them know they need to send salvage tugs for the freighters.”

Martines quickly relayed Greg’s instructions. “Ta’charin control is sending salvage tugs and has given us a vector to a berth at the black-docks.”

Greg checked a couple of readouts and sighed. “Acknowledge with our appreciation. Helm, follow their vector at best speed for the traffic.”

“Aye, sir. Estimate fifteen minutes until we begin docking.”

John stepped over to Greg, rubbing his temples—he was one of the few still affected by the folds. Greg started unstrapping. “Set condition four until we dock.” He turned to Damage Control. “Have all sections begin damage assessments and send the summary to my ready room along with the casualty report. I need to contact Thrawn and update her once I have the estimates. You have the CIC, John.”

John smiled. “I have the CIC.”

Minutes later, Greg sat at his desk looking over the initial damage estimates when Martines signaled him. “Grand Admiral Thrawn wishes to speak to you.”

Greg sighed—he should have guessed she’d been alerted to their return and visible state. “I’ll take it here, thanks.”

The viewscreen activated instead of the holo, which Greg figured she would use. “Captain, I believe my orders were to harass the enemy but keep your ship from taking significant damage.”

Greg nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I take full responsibility.”

She looked over to the side. “I have just been told that you also brought back three large freighters with you.”

“Yes, ma’am—the hyperdrives were damaged by the defenders, and I thought it wise to bring these back as they could be critical to our operations. I’m sending you what our initial estimates have for the cargos.”

Greg transmitted the data, and Thrawn looked at the information with her normal stoic expression as he continued. “The Relentless jumped us as we were getting the transports into fold range. It’s only because of Chief Maria’s ingenuity that we survived their lance strike. We were forced into a slugfest with it, and with the efforts of Lt. Irola, Striker, and our DC teams, we were able to force them to withdraw. Hammerly’s scans indicate that they took significant damage that will put them out of the fight for an extended period of time.”

Thrawn looked back at him, raising an eyebrow. “Now that you have time to reflect on the events, do you believe that you made the correct call?”

Greg thought for a moment. “I know what the smart play should have been, but those freighters were too valuable to just destroy. For better or worse, I stand by my call.”

Thrawn nodded. “Our biogel supplies are dangerously low, and our medical and military equipment is… lacking. Once again, you assessed the situation and took initiative. I think you’ve proven that you should be assigned broader orders, and that will be reflected when the Avenger is ready to return to action, Captain. I look forward to reading the full after-action report.”

Greg looked pleasantly surprised. “Yes, ma’am—I will get right on that.”

Thrawn continued. “Pass along my compliments to your crew as well. We will speak more later.”

Thrawn ended the transmission and leaned back in her chair. The Avenger being out of action was troublesome, but if even only half the inventory listed for those transports was correct and survived, it gave her more breathing room and more than made up for the temporary loss of the Avenger. She allowed herself to smile—the decision to place Greg in command with his choices was a well-calculated roll of the dice, and it was proving to bear the results she was hoping for. She just had to do everything in her power to make sure that continued.