Duel The Rimma Incident - Anathemous vs Drake

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Rimma Trade Route, aboard SIN "The Herald"
Tag: Toren Drake

Spoiler: FLEET

• GROUP Ⅰ
  • x10 SHIPS
  • Keres-class Stardestroyer - (Flagship)
  • SC-07 "Lussk" class Assault Cruiser(s)
  • Indictable-class Frigate(s)
  • [Thanaton-class Corvette(s) - (Interdictors)
• GROUP ⅠⅠ
  • x10 SHIPS
  • Harrower-class Battle Cruiser(s)
    • w\Caldoth-class Bomber(s)
    • w\Disciple-class Starfighter(s)
  • Indictable-class Frigate(s)
  • Thanaton-class Corvette(s) - (Interdictors)

Anathemous anxiously gripped the command chair.

She'd been dispatched by Second Legion command to hunt the rumored survivors of the battle for Woostri. A convoy of some sort, limping back to Alliance borders. Borders she now sat between, lying in wait with Interdictors to ambush, the same way she used to ambush pirates and saboteurs back home. Only this would be her first real fleet command if she caught anything. Untrained pirates and brigands didn't count, these were real soldiers, and though her freckled face refused to show it behind that cold stare into the void, a part of it terrified her.

Not because she may die, but because these weren't just her men she was spending, but the Dark Council's.

Failure would bring another black mark upon her record, one she couldn't afford after her little rebellion on Echnos. To make matters worse, she could feel the battle coming closer. She didn't know when, she didn't know where, but Anathemous had known for some time now that it was coming, as if the force itself whispered doom in her ear.

And so she'd come here, just off the Rimma Trade Route, to face that battle on her own terms.

The interdictors sat at the front of her formation, backed up by frigates and star destroyers, waiting to drag the enemy out of hyperspace and within range of her most heavily armed vessels. Far ahead of them sat another group of notably smaller, but faster ships, poised to strike from the rear.

They were aptly named "Group Hammer", awaiting signal from their dark lord, commander of "Group Anvil".

"Where is my tea...?" she inquired to the bridge, gaze never leaving the speckled darkness outside.

"A few more minutes, my lord."

Anathemous groaned under her breath. She needed her brew to take her mind off it, or fighting to break out, they were the only things left in this world that could wrest focus enough to drown doubt in action.

All except...

She glanced down at the echani silver wrapped around her finger. A promise ring.

...I'll be home soon, love. I promise...

Suddenly the klaxons blared throughout the bridge, flashing red lights sending the crews into a flurry.

"My lord, it's The Malak, she's pulling something into realspace!" her second reported urgently.

"Finally!" Anathemous exclaimed in relief as she stood from the command chair.

This was it, it had to be! No more waiting, just captains proving their mettle.

"All hands to battle stations, let's she what we've reeled in."

​

 

[Toren Drake]

Location: Rimma Trade Route
Flagship: ANS Freedom's Hope
Fleet: Task Force Torch (What remains)​

The Battle of Woostri had taken a tool on everyone. It's people first and foremost. The group of transport craft that Toren now escorted through space and back to the safety net of the Alliance borders. New borders since they had lost Woostri to the relentless and powerful attack from the Sith.

Toren was tired. His men were tired. His ships were beat to all hell and he only had a portion of his fleet. He lost quite a bit of ships above the water world, attempting to halt the Sith armada as they tore into one of the Alliance's most precious data centers. But it mattered not. They brought too many forces and their ships packed one hell of a punch.

The Alliance fleet was blown aside and forced to recover anything they could before limping back to GA space. Toren had already sent ahead any ships that could make the journey. The eight to ten warships he had with him were the ones that couldn't even make a single hyperspace jump without immediate repairs. So he stayed with them. He would not abandon his men and these civilians to fates in a Sith labor camp somewhere. No matter how much GADF brass ordered him to. No doubt he would get a good ass chewing for that back on Fondor.

Lost in thought as he sat on the bridge of his battered flagship; ANS Freedom's Hope. The rest of his formation was below optimal even for this simple escort task. He had lost too many ships and sent all the good ones on ahead to try and get them away from further Sith hostility. They would be better served getting repaired and sent back to the frontlines than escorting his old ass back to Alliance command.

There would be more battl-the bridge got drowned in red as the klaxons sounded. Rear Admiral Toren Drake lurched forward in his seat as he watched the significantly lighter civilian transports be pulled from hyperspace. He knew before his bridge crew even announced what had happened.

"Admiral, the transports have been interdicted!" Shouted a young Lieutenant manning the sensor station.

"Captain, drop us out of hyperspace. Order the fleet to do the same. We won't leave those people to the mercy of whoever awaits us." Ordered Toren.

"Aye, aye sir. Lieutenant Brim, drop us out. Lieutenant Commander Salso, order the fleet to follow us in. Everyone to their battle stations." Spoke Captain Yolna, she had been with the Admiral for years now. Always faithfully commanding his flagship for him. With the Commodore being sent ahead to Fondor with the rest of their fleet, the ones that had survived that is, she now served as defacto second-in-command. For how longer, she wondered.

The Alliance warships dropped out of hyperspace in a staggered formation, clearly not preparing to have their transport ripped away. The scars of war were apparent on their hulls, their crews and their munitions. Toren Drake feared how fast this would be as he gazed at the awaiting Sith fleet. No doubt not having any of the current weaknesses the Admiral and his fleet did. He did not even have enough pilots to man all 45 starfighter squadrons within his flagship, something that would easily have turned this into a quick skirmish in their favor.

With the civilians trapped between them and what looked to be the main Sith force, he noticed on sensors a awaiting second portion just out of reach.

He stood from his command chair and quickly assessed the only option he had left...

"Captain, take Freedom's Hope with two escorts and charge that main formation pass the civie transports. Have the other six ships remain here to block that second Sith formation. Stone wall them if they have to but don't let them get to the transports." Drake grimaced.

He'd lose more men this day.

 

[Kaila Irons]

SIN "The Herald"
Tag: Toren Drake ​

Spoiler: FLEET

• GROUP Ⅰ
  • x10 SHIPS
  • Keres-class Stardestroyer - (Flagship)
  • SC-07 "Lussk" class Assault Cruiser(s)
  • Indictable-class Frigate(s)
  • Thanaton-class Corvette(s) - (Interdictors)
• GROUP ⅠⅠ
  • x10 SHIPS
  • Harrower-class Battle Cruiser(s)
    • w\Caldoth-class Bomber(s)
    • w\Disciple-class Starfighter(s)
  • Indictable-class Frigate(s)
  • Thanaton-class Corvette(s) - (Interdictors)

Anathemous watched the first ships ripped from hyperspace with an attentive gaze.

"Shall we open fire, my lord?" the officer questioned.

Her gloved hand shot up in silent signal to hold fire while she finished her assessment, eyes darting along the smaller ship's surface. No insignia, no weapons that she could ascertain as of yet.

"Civilian transports, likely refugees, though sympathizers may hide among them. Order them to standby for a search."

"Yes my—"

Another ship dropped from hyperspace within seconds, the hyperwave warning barely having time to sound the klaxons as a great beast of metal and shield tore into realspace. Her eyes widened, more so than she'd ever let them see, knowing her first battle against a worthy adversary of the stars would be a Dreadnaught.

But there was no time for the impulsivity of fear.

"Group 1, focus fire on that dreadnaught!" she commanded immediately.

"Group 2 will advance escorts and rake the stern of anything bearing arms, I want those engines smoldering."

"And the civilian craft?"

Anathemous paused but briefly. If the Alliance vessels were still escorting them, damaged as they are, they either carried something valuable to the war effort or this commander simply placed a great deal of value on the innocent souls aboard. Either way, she could perhaps use their own hearts against them.

"Allow the civilians to flee a short distance and then engage with ion weaponry, use them to lure Alliance ships away, perhaps it will divert them from screening that dreadnaught."

"Aye ma'am!"

Already her escorts were painting green streaks across the void via heavy turbolaser emplacements from the Lussk-class stardestroyers, whilst The Herald itself thrummed as baradium cluster missiles sent long arcs of smoke across the battlefield to batter shields and escorts alike.

All the while, Harrower-class stardestroyers prepared their hangars stuffed with fighters and bombers alike. Many pilots and gunnery crews would die this day, she knew, but if she spared them by running now while there was a chance, their heads would roll all the same soon as they docked above Jutrand. Better they die gloriously for the empire than be remembered for cowards.

She just had to make them count.

"Mister Darrow, divert power to the Damocles and inform me when charged..."

 

[Toren Drake]

Location: Rimma Trade Route
Flagship: ANS Freedom's Hope
Fleet: Task Force Torch (What remains)​

Drake continued his slow approach toward the main Sith fleet before him. The two ships escorting his flagship were Chandrila-class which Drake planned to utilize their exceptionally defense capability to create a strong bubble of defense around his already wounded flagship. Had they had time to make full or even significant repairs since Woostri then this battle would be a easy one.

Though they had no such luck. And that bothered him. Worried him, even.

The other ships left behind to protect the civilian transports were a mix of frigates and corvettes. Though he wished he had the rest of his fleet here with his other heavy hitters who were sure to chase these vermin away without effort. But reality was always different than what one hoped.

Just as the enemies main group opened fire and focused their efforts on the flagship, Drake braced himself as they received the combined fire of a entire squadron. Though she was wounded and bleeding already, the Freedom's Hope still held under the pressure. Now it was time to respond in kind.

"Captain, inform the two escort Star Defenders to cover us with defensive fire. Keep those missiles and starfighters off of us and focus on that groups smaller vessels." He informed his current number two as he looked her way. "Also-"

"Admiral!" A young officer from down in the pit suddenly spoke out and cut him off mid-sentence.

"What is it, Ensign?" Drake responded as he looked down at the young man.

"What appears to be their leadship sir, its energy readings are spiking gradually. Some type of energy build up."

Drake took his eyes from the young officer and gazed out across the new battlefield and locked onto said ship. No doubt that must be their command ship if it had some type of hidden surprise aboard. Time to welcome their commander with a bit of hospitality of his own.

"Captain, open fire all batteries and target that flagship. Send forward our starfighters and have our bombers target those Lussk-class. I want as many of their guns out as we can take or they'll tear right into us."

"Aye aye, sir!" Came the response as the battle went into full swing in earnest.

Thousands of different colored lasers streaked across the space between the two formations as differing types of weapons were unleashed on one another. Scrambling between all the lasers and missiles being exchanged were multiple squadrons of starfighters and bombers darting across to land hits wherever they could.

The battle had begun.

 

[Kaila Irons]

SIN "The Herald"
Tag: Toren Drake ​

Spoiler: FLEET

• GROUP Ⅰ
  • x10 SHIPS
  • Keres-class Stardestroyer - (Flagship)
  • SC-07 "Lussk" class Assault Cruiser(s)
  • Indictable-class Frigate(s)
  • Thanaton-class Corvette(s) - (Interdictors)
• GROUP ⅠⅠ
  • x10 SHIPS
  • Harrower-class Battle Cruiser(s)
    • w\Caldoth-class Bomber(s)
    • w\Disciple-class Starfighter(s)
  • Indictable-class Frigate(s)
  • Thanaton-class Corvette(s) - (Interdictors)

Fighter-bomber squadrons were already reporting contact and losses alike as Alliance flak forced evasive maneuvers and those outside defensive perimeters were dragged into spiraling dog fights, the first duels of this battle.

Interestingly the Alliance had not responded in the way she expected, and the civilian ships remained close a piece of the formation rather than flee outright, although this splinter had not joined the charge which could still be used to her advantage.

What she hadn't prepared for however was for The Herald to be singled out so quickly.

"My lord, enemy fighters-bomber squadrons have diverted towards The Herald." Darrow warned over the sound of turbolasers impacting the shields before them.

"Switch engines to vertical thrusters and prepare to drop us behind the Lussk escorts, we'll use them for cover and send missiles over the top."

"And the Damocles?"

"Drop soon as they've fired."

The twin-Damocles cannons soon opened up in a short burst of massive ionized bolts all directed at the ANS Freedom's Hope, with design to drain it's shield. It wouldn't shut them down outright, but rather begin the process of chipping it away, chunk by chunk.

"NOW."

Then, soon as they'd dispensed all their munition, The Herald began to slowly lower itself into cover behind the Lussk-class Stardestroyer escorts to hide away from enemy turbolaser fire whilst reloading the Damocles. Their own cannon fire ceased, instead focusing on it's many flak guns to deter enemy fighters and bombers.

"Recall all of Group 1's fighter-bombers to defend The Herald." Anathemous ordered, sending them into a fighting withdrawal away from the enemy fleet to defend their own flagship.

All the while, The Herald continued to lob missiles over the heads of their allies and into the enemy dreadnaught, while the escorts began to battle the enemy's smaller ships.

To compensate for the lack of offensive fighter actions from Group 1, Group 2 responded by disgorging dozens of fighter and bomber squadrons from the two Harrower-class Stardestroyers, which acted equally as hybrid carriers. These swarms of faster mover craft raced towards the Alliance vessel's rears like locusts with orders to target engines and thrusters in particular.

That just left the larger ships.

"Get Group 2 on the line and charge the enemy rear, at the last minute I want a few escorts to split off and attack the enemy escorting those Civilians. Take some pot shots at the transports specifically, create the illusion of threat to the refugees."

"Why not destroy one of them, make them sweat for it?"

Why indeed.

Kaila would not waste time arguing her vestigial morals to an imperial officer, but there were... practical arguments to be made for either decision, she supposed.

"The long those civilians live, the longer the enemy has to spend resources protecting them. Let's see if they take the bluff."

"I see. The Emperor wasn't bluffing on Woostri, destroyed an entire city. I doubt they'll take any chances."

As commanded, Group 2 had begun charging the enemy flank, a few ships and even a fighter squadron breaking off to attack the escorts around the civilian ships, even strafing the transports once or twice.

Then at last, an echnosian trooper brought her that tea cup.

"...oh thank the fanged god."

She whispered, then quickly sipped the soothing drink.

​

 

[Toren Drake]

Location: Rimma Trade Route
Flagship: ANS Freedom's Hope
Fleet: Task Force Torch (What remains)​

Drake watched as the Damocles cannons hit his shields, hearing the warning klaxons alerting to the fact the shield capacitors were failing. The ships systems were being overloaded and would not hold for long, especially considering the enemy starfighters and bombers were targeting their engines. Drake wished they had repaired her enough to swat this enemy fleet away but it seemed they were doomed to fail.

"Have the support ships focus fire on that second Lussk, take it out of action. Full power to engines and charge toward that other Lussk shielding their flagship." The Admiral ordered, knowing full well what he must do.

While the two Chandrila-classes focused fire on the single Lussk, the Freedom's Hope focused its fire and began a trajectory to ram the second Lussk shielding the Herald. Full munitions were launched at the Lussk to soften the target up as the Alliance fighters and bombers continued to target the enemy flagship.

Meanwhile, the ships left behind with the civilians received their own orders as the civilian vessels tried to fend off the enemy fighters targeting them. Eventually, they would attempt to escape to hyperspace when the Freedom's Hope gave them the chance with its sacrifice. With the second enemy group still close enough to threaten their rearguard, the Alliance ships tasked with guarding the civilian transports focused their AA on the enemy fighters.

Back on the Freedom's Hope, Rear Admiral Drake began preparations to have his crew abandon ship via shuttles, escape pods and whatever other vessels they could while the Chandrila-classes prepared to receive as many of them as they could. Though more than enough made the decision to stay with their ship and home. Drake admired their bravery if not saddened by the lives that would be lost just like Woostri.

As the Freedom's Hope neared the Lussk that the Herald was hiding behind, the massive ship bared down on the smaller vessel with everything it had while locking its tractor beams to try and stop the ship from maneuvering out of the way. Drake could only hope this would create enough chaos and a gap within the Sith comms and cohesion to allow the civilians to escape. Hopefully the rest of the squadron would follow suit, though he remained quietly pessimistic.

"It's been an honor to serve with you all. May this serve as some form of symbol of Alliance defiance in the face of these Dark sided bastards."