"Rear-Admiral Dylan, bring your flagship and the 'Resolute IX' into a flanking maneuver around the southern flank. Head along a straight vector south. Make it seem like you're fleeing," Rysell spoke, as Dylan nodded and turned around to command his forces.
"The rest of the forward line will form a 30-degree pitch rotation downward, targeting the underside of their forward destroyer line," he continued, before addressing the second lines. "Secondary Line: form up into sections with the Victory as the lead. Utilize your speed to flank along the northern side."
"Tertiary Line: Ton Falks and Interdictors will perform a slow retreat under the protection of the Carracks and Broadsides. All fighters will remain under the command of the 'Leviathan.' The enemy fleet does not have the numbers to employ escort squadrons."
"Yes, Commodore." He received a response before the comms quieted down, and Rysell made his way back to the bridge, where the 'Leviathan' was performing a dive, as the enemy had just barely reached the tertiary firing arc.
His orders were slowly taking shape, and the rebellious fleet responded accordingly—though theirs was far less organized. It was a disadvantage with a fleet as large as this; it was difficult to split them up mid-battle, which had resulted in some tactical mistakes.
Foremost, he had heavily split up his fleet. Of course, Rysell had divided his entire force into three sections of two Star Destroyers each, but in his opinion, the Admiral should have attempted to maintain a form of fleet cohesion. Now, he had split five Star Destroyers on each flank, with additional Strike and Carrack escorts, to hunt down odds of 3-to-1.
He had left his flagship and three others alongside the fighter compartment to handle the 'Leviathan' and the 'Justice IVV.' But that was all fine—if he was certain no reinforcements would reach them. The system was at the very edge of their sector, very near neighboring sectors.
And—he was rebelling against the Galactic Empire, an entity with endless resources and military capabilities.
Rysell watched with amusement as Linus's fleet slowly began splitting up, desperately attempting to meet the flanking forces—while the Admiral himself was trying to bring his weapons to face the 'Leviathan.'
The support ships, Strikes and Carracks, lagged behind—hesitant to be caught in a feigned retreat. But that would also be their doom, as Commodore Rysell turned to face the comms officer.
"It is about time. Spring the trap," he commanded, and the man nodded with a grin. Turning around, he pressed a few buttons—signaling the green light. At that exact moment, the interdictor field of the Immobilizer shifted—its limit suddenly positioned directly behind the opposing fleet.
Cronau sensors flared, and within seconds, six ships entered sight: three Imperial-II Star Destroyers and three Ton-Falk Escort Carriers.
Nearly forty Carracks and ten Strike cruisers were now pincered between three ISD-II's and 432 Imperial bombers. Luca turned to look at Rysell with wide eyes as only bombers exited the six vessels. It was truly ridiculous—yet Rysell remained as ice-cold as ever.
However, the captains and officers onboard the frigates and cruisers were not so calm. As the Imperial Star Destroyers unleashed devastating broadsides on the all-but halted Carracks and Strikers rushing to get their engines warmed up, ion and concussion missiles slammed into their shields.
"All ships of the Star Destroyer classification are to hold position—fortify and hold out. All cruisers and frigates are to circle around and assist our reinforcements," Rysell ordered, as Luca commanded the crew to angle their ship directly at the incoming four Star Destroyers.
"Deploy all interceptors—finish their last fighter complements," Rysell commanded, as the forward shields of the 'Leviathan' and 'Justice IVV' strained to maximum capacity, with a large amount of reactor power transferred there. The Justice and Leviathan formed up beside each other.
----------
Sweat beaded down Linus's forehead as his brain nearly short-circuited, listening to the screams of his Vice-Admiral and various Commodores. He had moved to his private meeting room the instant reinforcements arrived and called for his cabinet.
But everyone was panicking, and nobody had yet offered a clear suggestion that made sense to Linus. His fleet was now spread wide in a V formation. His flanks had turned 90% away from him to face the flanking units—while reinforcements were now literally behind him, destroying Linus's smaller ships.
Reports of numerous ion bombings on their engines flooded in—and Rysell was clearly attempting to keep them from moving to deal with these 'reinforcements' that relentlessly gunned them down.
Rysell's fleet had also fortified itself, turning to face their hunters. They would most likely focus all power into their shields and hold as long as necessary. Linus was caught in a pincer.
He could not simply turn 90 degrees—port facing Rysell while starboard faced the reinforcements. No, it required a long and taxing C-turn, one that would expose him to fire from both sides. Even if he succeeded, he'd still have fire directly behind him.
His eyes suddenly widened—support ships! "Shut the fuck up! Vice-Admiral Ios, organize the support ships. There are just three Imperial Star Destroyers. We have over fifty cruisers. Wolfpack them immediately!" Linus barked at his Vice-Admiral, who quickly ran out of the room and into the next.
'Damn these incompetent officers—they're blocking my plan. If only they'd remain silent,' he inwardly fumed, seeing nearly a dozen Carracks and four Strike cruisers already decimated, with another twelve of each class either destroyed or crippled—either their engines or reactors blown.
They could be salvageable after he won this battle; he'd just drag them into deep space with him. Turning to his officers, he ordered, "Full power to turbolasers. Take down Rysell first—then turn on the reinforcements."
Suddenly, a man burst into the room. "Admiral—Rysell's wing has engaged our starfighter wing, and we're suffering heavy losses," he reported. Linus's eyebrows shot up. Grabbing the man by his collar, he demanded, "How? I sent them to reinforce the rear line."
"Admiral, their TIE Interceptors and Defenders are far faster and caught up. Wing Commander Jared saw it prudent to terminate the hunters before engaging the bombers—"
"Karking mongrel! Tell him to ram the bombers with everything they've got. I don't care if they suicide-charge—just get them out of the sky!" Linus barked, releasing the messenger, who scrambled out of the room. He turned to his HoloPad, where his previous meeting had ended, now displaying a large projection of the battle.
He observed the immense barrage from all his Star Destroyers, unleashing domineering barrages into Rysell's fleet's shields. Yet, he also saw the reinforcements tearing through the meager resistance his Vice-Admiral was putting up.
'But there are surprisingly few bombers—' he thought for a second—until he saw them re-entering the fray from beneath the reinforcements' shields, hiding beneath the Imperial-II Star Destroyers. This time, they moved in formations of twenty-four, as if one squadron was placed in front of the other. But as he followed them visually, he realized something: they weren't heading toward the Carracks.
No—they were directly targeting the Imperial Star Destroyers. Linus reacted instantly, hurriedly attempting to contact his officers.
But suddenly, the ship shook intensely—and he felt something power down. He didn't know exactly what it was, but then the shaking was followed by massive explosions and alarms. In the next moment, the Vice-Admiral burst into the room.
"We've lost our deflector shields to the bombers, and both the 'Leviathan' and the 'Justice IVV' are targeting us—we need to abandon ship immediately."
As the news hit him, Linus felt his legs go weak, and he nearly collapsed. Barely managing to catch himself on the HoloPod, another earthquake-like jolt threw him to the floor. His mind was still struggling to comprehend what was happening.
'I've lost...'
And then, a turbolaser blast tore through the bridge, instantly vaporizing the entire structure and ending Linus's life—along with his Vice-Admiral and the entire crew.
---------------
Commodore Rysell puffed out his chest as the battlefield suddenly shifted. Imperial warships had been well documented, and the pilots knew precisely where to strike to inflict maximum damage. The bombing runs were devastatingly effective.
Especially as his fighter squadrons mopped up the last hostile anti-bomber defenses, the reinforcements tore through the remaining frigates and cruisers—fewer than a dozen left, their attention now focused on enemy capital ships.
The remaining twelve rebellious captains found themselves pincered by Star Destroyers, with no fighter support against hundreds of bombers, while being constantly harried by cruisers capable of substantial firepower.
The northern flank was progressing very effectively; the 'Relentless' was destroyed in space—an explosion rippling along its hull before reaching its bridge, blowing it to bits almost instantly.
A sudden wave of emotion hit Rysell as he watched his previous flagship go down in flames. But he pushed it aside. This was a battle of nearly twenty-five Star Destroyers, and the Victory-Class was simply too underwhelming in these circumstances. Its main strength was missile support at long range.
But they could not withstand close brawls with Imperial Star Destroyers—no matter the support. This was clear as the 'Griffon' activated emergency abandon-ship protocols; their deflectors were dangerously low.
The northern flank was retreating toward the planet, executing a clean C-turn that moved forward and to the right of the Victory ships, which now had no shields and were clearly incapacitated. Rysell guessed they saw no reason to continue.
Just as he was about to dispatch reinforcements—Strike and Carracks—a transmission crackled through. Captain Vahn Krennel appeared before Rysell, speaking from the rear bridge of the 'Relentless,' which still had power.
"Commodore, these scum shall not be permitted to rejoin the battle. It has been an honor serving under such a promising young man as you. I hope this sacrifice brings you the recognition you deserve to change the Empire—I know you can." The old man spoke, with some of his crew standing behind him, steadfast.
"Thank you, Captain Krennel. I assure you, your name will go down in history. I thank you for your service to the Galactic Empire," Rysell replied, sensing the old captain's intent—and the veteran saluted him. Rysell responded with a nod.
"I'll see you on the other side." The connection cut.
"Transfer the slave codes for the 'Griffon' to the 'Relentless.' I believe he will make good use of them," Rysell ordered, watching as the engines of the 'Griffon' flared to life. The northern flank was now 30% into their rotation, lined up perfectly—one beside the other, shoulder to shoulder. The 'Relentless' and the 'Griffon' now semi-powered by tractor beams and a singular ion cannon.
"Burn this into your memories, men—this is the definition of loyalty and self-sacrifice," Rysell proclaimed, as all crew members turned their eyes toward the pair of Victory ships.
The Imperial Star Destroyer at the tip launched broadsides into the Victories—futile as it was. The massive vessel then slammed headfirst into the side of the ISD-II, its engines blazing with even greater intensity.
The Victory pushed the first ISD toward another waiting in an identical vector on the starboard side. It was moving slowly—until the 'Griffon' joined the fray, slamming its hull into the wall of durasteel and anchoring itself there.
As it charged forward and connected with the next, momentum grew too strong—debris fragments and four Star Destroyers collided with the next in line, causing a chain reaction.
The 'Relentless' suddenly split in two, its tip no longer able to sustain the momentum from its rear ion engines, splitting horizontally. The 'Griffon' suffered an internal chain reaction moments later—both ships succumbing.
Fortunately, they had managed to evacuate nearly 70% of their crews; the 'Griffon' at 85%, the 'Relentless' at 65%.
In the next moment, Rysell received over half a dozen surrender requests as boarding operations began—an astonishing victory for the 32nd Squadron. They had defeated odds of 3-to-1, losing only a pair of Victory ships, three Strike-class cruisers, and eight Carrack-class cruisers.
It was well over half of the squadron's combat potential, but they had similarly devastated an entire sector fleet. Rysell had once again demonstrated what he could do to the galaxy.
But first, he had a fleet to capture—and a Moff to arrest.
-------------------------
Please support me via påetron, it really helps keep me motivated and I'm lowkey kinda broke so any help is very much welcome.
påetron underneath;
Pondsfyre - +20 chapters, alongside 5 other stories of mine. Each 50+ chapters.