The dancers in this particular dance went about their business with grim faced life and death determination. But it was a dance... A deadly dance.
Fighters, lasers, missiles, torpedoes all swirled in a gigantic symphony of death and destruction. Some lived, many died, they all danced on...
The Star Destroyer Titan.
"They appear to be withdrawing Admiral." Commander Hark, the Executive officer of the Titan reported from the work pit.
"It wasn't much of a battle once we showed up." Lieutenant Commander Gaskin, the ships Flight Officer, sneered.
"It wasn't meant to be..." Thrawn said watching the dance through the large windows of the command balcony.
"The last of the Rebel frigates and cruisers have entered Hyperspace." an officer in the scanners section reported.
"They are in full retreat now." Hark reported.
"No Victory for the Rebels today sir." Gaskin gloated.
"A ruse." Thrawn said softly.
"There are still a number of Starfighters to deal with." Hark said. "But our combined strength will make short work of them."
"Recall all fighters." Thrawn ordered. "Immediately."
"Sir!" Gaskin protested. "We have them!"
"We have nothing." Thrawn said. "Recall all fighters and set a course for the Hewitt system. Now."
"Yes sir." Gaskin replied then turned to a communications officers. "Send to all squadrons and all wings: immediate breakoff and withdraw, repeat, immediate breakoff and withdraw."
Gaskin was disgusted. This was his first assignment with Admiral Thrawn. They had spent three weeks in the Hewitt system, patrolling and patrolling and patrolling. There was nothing there, no rebels, no base, nothing. Yet Thrawn seemed to obsess with the Hewitt system, and now three weeks later a Rebel attack on the nearby star system of Shalidan and they finally had a chance to show their mettle and suddenly this cowardly withdrawal at the moment of victory!?! Worse, orders to return right to the Hewitt system, the dead system. There were no rebels there, despite what Imperial Intelligence told them, the Hewitt system was a dead end. Every expedition there had proved that, again and again.
Gaskin looked up at Thrawn standing on the command balcony staring passionlessly out the window. Gaskin felt a new wave of anger sweep through him but he held it in check. Now was not the time to cross Thrawn. Despite the fact that he was an alien (very tall and a being with majestic bearings, scintillating blue-blackish hair, pale blue skin tone, and glowing red eyes) he was currently in high favor with the Emperor and some said Thrawn would be the first non-human to ever become a Grand Admiral and serve on the inner circle of 12 Grand Admirals.
Gaskin now thought it unlikely, no one could make Grand Admiral by turning their back to easy victories.
Luv Shara stared out the window at the window wishing she could see the ships. Five Imperial Class Star Destroyers. The 4th squadron of the 2nd Imperial Flotilla. Coming here had been risky. The Wormhole had been expanded just enough to permit the Dragon to slip through and close again. Now drifting here watching the Empire sweep the system over and over again Luv couldn't help but be impressed by Admiral Stardrifters wisdom.
Thankfully the Klingon supplied Cloaking device was still functioning. The only thing that saved the Dragon when the Jem'Hadar attacked. Still the damage to the Dragon had been severe. They still had no replicators and no Transporters. The Photon's were iffy and the Impulse engines not quite at 100%. However in the last few months they had taken the three barely space worthy Peregrine ships and brought two of them back up to combat readiness, with the third only a few weeks behind. The phasers and shields were fully functional and that was what was important.
The urge to strike out in revenge ran deep in Luv Shara and it was becoming less and less important to her who she struck at.
They'd been in the new universe for two days, having come though to watch the Imperial Fleet. Back in their home universe the Rebel fleet was waiting to move out. The Dragon had been in contact with Admiral Mirek at the secret rebel base on Krysnla and a strike against the Imperial space station at Gorolius VII was ready to go. But first something had to be done about the Imperial ships here in the Hewitt system.
"What's taking so long?" Frank Fenelli asked. The short slightly chubby human was one of Luv's most trusted friends and they had fought the Cardassians together for a long time. Like Luv, Fenelli had plenty of reasons to hate and hate deep.
"Give them time." Luv replied.
A diversionary attack had been hastily planned and put together by Admiral Mirek against the nearby system of Shalidan. In order to draw off the whole Star Destroyer Squadron it had been necessary to use a large number of the Rebels ships and prized cruisers. Mirek had warned Luv that they would not keep the fight up long, the Rebellion could not afford to the losses.
"Wait!" Fenelli said. "The fighters are moving back towards the Star Destroyers.
"Get Jennifer up here!" Luv commanded.
Fenelli jabbed a button on a panel. "Nichols to the bridge."
A few moments later the impossibly beautiful form of Jennifer Nichols came onto the Dragons bridge. Bright, 25, honey colored hair and strange green eyes. Jennifer had been breaking hearts since the age of 14. She was also a talented pilot and a dedicated member of the Maquis.
"They're on the move." Luv said to Nichols. Luv had hated the beautiful Nichols at their first meeting two years ago. But in the following two years that hate had melted away into first affection, followed by deep friendship, and finally close sisterly love.
Nichols took her place at the Dragons helm.
"They're aligning with Shalidan." Fenelli reported. "The last of the fighters are being recovered now."
They waited, then suddenly the five large ships vanished from their sensor screens.
"There they go!" Fenelli cried almost gleefully.
"Take us to the Worm Hole." Luv ordered.
"Aye." Nichols said working her hands over the controls, bringing the Dragons impulse engines to life and steering the craft towards the Worm Hole.
"Configure the phasers to fire the Tachyon stream." Luv said.
"Phasers ready." Fenelli replied.
"Fire."
The Worm Hole suddenly burst open and the Dragon plunged through and came out on the other side.
"Ship, sensors are detecting a ship!" Fenelli cried in alarm.
"Is the cloak holding?" Luv demanded.
"Affirmative." Nichols responded.
"What kind of ship?" Luv asked Fenelli.
"Cardassian, Galor class."
"Damn!" Luv cursed. Now was a bad time for the Cardassians to be here. JA125 was 9 light years away and it would take the Rebel fleet at least 9 hours to get here. It was questionable if the diversion at Shalidan would give them that much time.
"At least it's not the Jem'Hadar." Nichols said.
Luv silently agreed. The Jem'Hadar had the annoying ability to spot ships even when cloaked sometimes. The Dragon was in no condition to fight the Jem'Hadar, although their time was coming, that much Luv did vow.
"Did they notice us coming out of the Worm Hole?" Luv asked.
"It does not appear so." Fenelli replied. "They are slowly moving away."
They waited and a hour slowly crept by.
"They've gone to warp." Fenelli finally reported. "Course 119 mark 012, warp 6."
"It's about time!" Luv said. "Signal Admiral Stardrifter, tell her it's clear to come through."
"Transmitting." Fenelli said. "They're responding. They're on their way."
Captain Kreegan, commander of the Gorolius VII Imperial Base, was doing paperwork when Lieutenant Iridar, his adjutant, knocked on the open door. Kreegan looked up.
"Message coming in from Shalidan, they're under attack by Rebel forces." Iridar said. "We're ordered to step up our alert status in case the Rebels decide to make strikes at other targets in the area."
Kreegan nodded. "What ships to we have out?"
"Delta's one and nineteen."
Kreegan shook his head and frowned. Delta nineteen was the new cadet squadron. Actually cadet was fallacious, each member of the squadron had satisfied the minimum requirements of Imperial Pilot doctrine and was fully qualified, however their graduation was only 3 weeks ago. They spent 2 weeks on leave and have been at the Gorolius Station for one week on a 10 week initial utilization tour before being assigned a permanent duty station. The purpose of the utilization tour was to familiarize the new pilots with squadron life in active duty, and maybe even give them a little taste of action.
Kreegan ran the partols in Gorolius system on a simple schedule. There were 6 squadrons assigned to the station. A standard duty rotation would have 2 squadrons flying patrol, 2 squadrons on stand by for immediate emergency launch, and 2 squadrons would be stood down for R&R. At a time of higher alert status Kreegan liked to have his best squadrons out in space as the first line of defense, this time one of the squadrons was the rookie squadrons. In addition to the Stations Tie Fighter complement there would normally also be a Victory class Star Destroyer as well, but the VSD Anselar had been ordered out a few weeks before, Kreegan was hoping they would replace it with one of the newer Imperial Class ships.
"How long to bring them back and get Alpha's four and five out?" Kreegan asked.
"An hour, maybe a little more." Iridar replied.
"Okay, bring nineteen back and launch four to replace them, rotate the others forward in the launch order and signal condition yellow until further notice." Kreegan said. There was little else that could be done. If they got in real trouble Star Destroyer Squadron 4, under Admiral Thrawn, was lurking around somewhere.
"Where is Thrawn's squadron?" Kreegan asked.
"They're headed for Shalidan." Iridar said. "They were at the Hewitt system."
"Chasing ghosts?" Kreegan asked half joking.
"Could be." Iridar grinned back.
The Hewitt system was the supposed location of the Phantom Rebel base. Kreegan didn't think there was any special base hidden in the Hewitt system. If there was then one of the many Imperial expeditions who's job it was to find that base, would have found it. That system was scoured end to end. Not a single asteroid was left unturned. No Rebel base. Although Kreegan did have to admit that in the past half year Rebel craft striking in the area did have a tendency to retreat in the direction of Hewitt. Personally Kreegan thought that some clever Rebel commander was using it as a Rally and Marshaling point to keep the Empire off the scent of the real base. He also believed that the rumors of the Phantom base were more than likely started by the Rebels themselves to keep the Empire guessing.
Kreegan turned back to his paper work.
Suddenly the lights shifted to red and an alert Klaxon started to sound. Kreegan looked up, Iridar who was still standing in the doorway looked equally surprised. Both men darted out of the office heading for the Control Center.
Commander Jernigan checked his instruments again and looked back at the count down timer, it was just past the 10 second mark now. He slipped his gloves on and made sure they were tight then rested his hands lightly on the controls. The R2 unit made a slight chirping sound and the stars returned.
Jernigan craned his neck to look around, the rest of the X wings of Blue Squadron were around him, just as they should have been. Including Blue 12 which was impressive considering that this was the strange Blue skinned aliens' (a Bolian if Jernigan remembered correctly) first time making a Hyperspace jump instead of using that strange Warp thing of theirs...
Jernigan keyed his mic. "Attack formation four."
There was a quick chorus of affirmatives as the 12 X wings jockeyed for position. Around them the 5 other X wing squadrons maneuvered, along with 4 A wing and 4 Y wing squadrons. In addition to the fighters there were 4 of the Calimari Cruisers and two Nebulon B Frigates, one a Medical ship, the other outfitted for bombardment.
"Bandits at Sector 7." came the voice of one of the A Wing pilots. "Looks like Ties."
"Another squadron coming it from Mark 8." came the voice of Gold leader, the X Wing Wing Commander.
"Yellow and Green squadrons cover the Medical ship, Y Wing's converge on the base, Blue and Gold take care of the fighters, the rest cover the Y's." Came the calm collected voice of Admiral Stardrifter. "Keep and eye our for Capital ships and shout when you see something. Cruisers attack plan Alpha."
Jernigan keyed his mic. "All right, you heard her, lets get those fighters!"
Kreegan coughed, the Control center was filled with smoke and the overlapping sound of four or five different kinds of Alarm Klaxons was starting to give him a bigger head ache than he already had.
What a terrible way to end a career, he thought. destroyed by the phantom Rebels. It was true, they had come out of Hyperspace from the direction of the Hewitt system, and it made perfect sense. A fake at Shalidan to drawn Thrawn away and this, the real strike. There was no way for Thrawn and Squadron 4 to get here in time, even if they left at the same moment the Rebels appeared.
The Ties were fighting well, the Rookies of Delta nineteen were gone, atomized bits of debris spreading for infinity across the heavens. The others were badly mauled but still trading blows with the Rebel fighters and taking shots at the cruisers when they could. The Stations gunners were fighting a loosing duel between the Y Wings and the guns of the Calamari cruisers.
Kreegan stepped over the corpse of Iridar and checked one of the scanner screens. The operator was also dead. One of the Nebulon B's was breaking away from the rest of the cruisers and was headed in. Kreegan ripped the communications headset free the corpse of the crewman who manned the scanner station and shouted into it.
"One of the Bastards is making a bombardment run, all heavy guns concentrate on that Nebulon!"
Four small glowing red projectiles fired from the side of the Nebulon, faster than anything except turbo laser shots, faster than any missile had the right to go. Kreegan was stunned for the moment it took them to cross space and strike the station. The floor lurched suddenly and sickeningly up and Kreegan saw the edge of the scanner console flashing towards his head then his world exploded into blackness.
James Withiar was bathed in sweat.
The ship lurched again and there was another explosion, he cursed and looked up at the anxious eyes staring at him.
"I wish they'd keep this thing steady!" he snapped at no one in particular.
What a lousy piece of luck, he thought. It had seemed like a good idea a few weeks ago when it was discovered that the photon launcher on one the Peregrines would never function again to jury rig a Rebel missile launcher to hold the Federation missile weapon. Of course it sounded easier than it had proven. Stardrifter had been reluctant to allow the photon's on one of the Calamari Cruisers for fear of what might happen to one of her precious Cruisers should something happen to all that antimatter. Withiar could understand that. As a Maquis it was a decision they might have made had their positions been reverse. So as a compromise Stardrifter had authorized them to try and install them in one of the Nebulons, and since one was a medical ship that left the Rebel ship Exetus, formerly of the Imperial Navy.
The launcher which should have fired all twelve torpedoes jammed after the fourth leaving a fifth and fully armed torpedo in the firing chamber and a sixth armed in the loading mechanism. One of the exhaust dampers must have also failed because Withiar would have guessed that the temperature was easily 45+ °C. He looked up at the faces of the Exetus's crew, he was no telepath but he could read their thoughts in their faces. Each was hoping that this strange man from a strange universe would be able to fix the problem with out getting them all blown to kingdom come.
"Hand me that C Spanner." he shouted and someone thrust the heavy hot tool into his hands. "Thanks."
Withiar crawled into the rigged machinery and started to try and free the torpedo jammed in the loading mechanism, once done he would see about getting the one out of the launcher or maybe getting it jettisoned.
There was another blast and the ship shook again and the already straining machinery gave an additional groan.
"Jeez!" Withiar cursed.
Withiar was no ordinance man. His older brother Mark had been a Starfleet ordinance man for 8 years. When the brothers joined the Maquis the older had taught the younger as much as he could. Withiar desperately wished his brother was with him now. Mark Withiar's remains were drifting thought space somewhere very far away with the remains of the rest of the crew he was with when the Jem'Hadar attacked.
Withiar started to hammer the C Spanner against a bent rod with all his strength. "Come on you bastard!"
Another set of hands joined his and he looked into the eyes of one of the Rebel crewmen.
"Thanks." Withiar said then resumed his hammering. Others started to filter down through the machinery, unsure and scared they started to try and free the projectile from is position.
Stardrifter looked at the remains of the station. It wasn't the effect they had hoped for. The failure of the Exetus to deliver it's full blow was disappointing but Stardrifter did have to admire the damage done by just four of the Maquis missiles weapons. Of course it was a big help that the fighters and cruisers had battered the stations shields down first.
"We're done here." Stardrifter said.
"Agreed." General Embers said then turned to the Communications officer. "Send to all ships rally and fall back to the Hewitt system."
"Signal the Dragon." Stardrifter said. "Tell them we're on our way."