STS. LOG-059. (Patreon)

LOG-059.

“We will be exiting hyperspace momentarily.”

I took the declaration in stride, even as the general hustle and bustle of a very packed bridge filled the air around me.

“Understood.”

Unlike the tight confines of a Munificent or the open expanse of a Venator, the subjugator dreadnought Perseverance sat somewhere between the two extremes. There was enough room to move about within the space of the vaguely horseshoe shaped walkabout that surrounded the primary command platform, though not to any particular excess.

Not that such a thing was really a problem for the droids manning their various stations.

An inherently mechanical nature prevented the plague of stiff joints in all but the most extreme of cases, leaving the machines to continue operating without fail, even as I stared down at the complex control terminal in front of me, every part of its glowing crimson surface pertaining to some different facet of the ship I was currently standing within.

Beside me, Kraken appeared decidedly less interested in the workings of his own vessel, though that was a given. Where the fleet killer was a novelty to me, it was merely a fact of life for him, leaving the super tactical unit to merely continue staring out into the vast expanse of hyperspace, no doubt counting down the seconds until we translated back into realspace.

At least until he turned to glance at me, golden photoreceptors inspecting my form while I idly stepped back from the terminal, satisfied with my poking and prodding.

I waited for the moment to pass, only for the transition back into our native dimension to go by without comment, lesser droids making callouts as both the fleet escorting Perseverance and my own newly reinvigorated flotilla began to pop back into existence in formation around the dreadnought.

“You appear interested in my chassis. May I be of assistance?”

Curiously, the admiral actually tilted his head a little, a rather drastic touch of personality to the automaton that I had only known for a relatively short while, after Kalani had ordered our brief collaboration. It wasn’t long until he spoke up though.

“Your garment. It is not standard.”

Glancing at the half cape in question, still just as ostentatiously flashy as when I’d first had it made, I nodded.

“Affirmative. I found myself desiring an aesthetic change, beyond merely repainting my frame.”

My (technically) superior officer nodded at that, before turning back to stare out at the stars, tone just as emotionless as before.

“After this operation, you will inform me as to where you acquired it. I will have one of my own.”

…Oho? Getting into fashion, are we Kraken?

Shaking my head in amusement and wisely restraining the comment to my inner thoughts, I instead elected to drive the conversation back to more practical matters.

In particular, the reason we were even in this system to begin with.

“My fleet will assist your own during the initial stages of this strike, but we will be departing shortly afterwards so that I may enact my own objectives. The price paid to the Hutts for this hidden hyperspace route was high, we will have to make full use of it.”

My counterpart accepted that with another nod, even as the entire purpose of his little excursion out from Sanctum appeared above us, presented as a translucent series of ships.

Everything from the newer Imperial star destroyers to Venators and even a few Acclamators and other miscellaneous vessels lit up the display, hovering in orbit of some lifeless Outer Rim planet that I had already purged from my immediate databanks.

Calculations had proven that the world itself was largely insignificant in the grand scheme of things, notable only for the fact that it sat in a prime position to jump over to other nearby systems that actually held assets of value.

No, what truly mattered was the message we would be sending, once we were done here.

Those same systems had staunchly held out against Imperial advances for literal years at this point, and had been some of the first to ring back in the face of Kalani’s galaxy-wide transmission. They had asked for help, calling upon the reborn Confederacy to follow through with its vows and aid them.

The complete decimation of the fleet that had been assigned to finally bring them to heel would hopefully prove enough of a statement that we were in fact willing to back up our words with actions. And if not…well, the destruction or seizure of enemy assets was generally a good thing, more often than not.

“Begin the operation. We will open with a debilitating strike upon their star destroyers.”

Putting the thoughts aside for now and settling back to watch as Kraken began to work his magic, guiding the hundred and fifty strong armada like a grand orchestra against the mere sixty enemy warships we were engaging, I relaxed about as well as a droid truly could.

After all, it wasn’t very often one such as I got to sit around and watch a master of the craft at work.

—

The first portion of the battle had been almost ridiculously unfair. In a stark replica to the first deployment of the dreaded Malevolence, Perseverance had slung forth a crackling EMP ring miles tall and wide, the coruscating mass of violent energy washing over the unexpected forward elements of the enemy like a wave of pink and purple.

Several larger starships had been caught in the blast, and from there things had escalated violently as both sides began to launch their initial fighter squadrons and missiles, trying to outrange each other.

A mistake on the Imps’ part, the Confederacy had always made do with an overwhelmingly superior turbolaser doctrine in the face of the Republic’s better missiles and torpedoes. In any other circumstance, it would have been the right move, but a second launched ring (slung shortly after the enemy fleet had finally reoriented to properly face us) resulted in their grand barrage being reduced to little more than useless metal sailing through the void.

From there, the resulting counterattack led to half a dozen smaller frigates and corvettes (alongside a particularly unlucky Acclamator that had been half buzzed by the edge of the ring) erupting in bright blasts of light and scrap brought about by intensely focused fire from over three dozen Munificents and Recusants.

An outright impressive display of firepower. Though even that hadn’t been the truly interesting part.

No, it was the reports and readings sent by the Vultures that had instead gotten my immediate attention, my photoreceptors scanning the shapes and figures broadcasted back to the fleet even as violent furballs began to form throughout the battlespace.

TIE fighters. The enemy fleet was using TIE fighters. Which was a given, of course. Except for the fact that these ones had actually been putting up a fairly even fight in the face of the swarm, prior to the number advantage tilting in our favour.

Intrigued as I was by the anomaly, I found myself commandeering a nearby sensor droid’s terminal, with Kraken seeing fit to ignore my antics and the B1 in question awkwardly glancing over my shoulder and twiddling its digits together as I isolated an image of one of the craft, enhancing it.

The sight that met my optics was remarkably familiar, and it took seconds to isolate the feeling back to my human memories, locked away in the deepest parts of my processor.

I had seen these starfighters before. The TIE/D, based off of our own Vulture designs!

Evidently the Empire had gotten more than a little sick of their own starfighter doctrine being found lacking in the face of our swarm tactics, and had elected to copy the Confederacy’s homework in favour of innovating anything else.

…Concerning, to say the very least. We held the advantage for now, but with the economic powerhouse of the Core Worlds putting their weight behind whatever this new initiative was, we might very well find ourselves drowned in knockoff Vultures if nothing was done. Something to look into to be certain.

“Focus all fire on that target, don’t let it through!”

I’d been in the midst of isolating those thoughts and editing them into an appropriate datapacket to share with Kraken when an alarm had sounded out just after the command, with the droid in question glancing up sharply at something out of my sight lines.

Stepping away from the console to move over towards the admiral, I almost paused at the veritable sea of red turbolaser fire filling the space ahead of the Perseverance up, but the sight of what almost the entire fleet was shooting at kept me moving.

Somehow, one of the Imperial star destroyers had managed to break formation with the rest of its flagging comrades and burst forward, mighty engines propelling it on a direct collision course with our own ship.

That was fine, of course, the next EMP ring was nearly ready to fire, and would leave the fat vessel a sitting duck for the horrific amount of punishment it would soon be receiving for its transgressions.

No, the real problem was the swarm of infinitely smaller figures following in its wake, using the bulk of the capital ship as cover in order to survive the onslaught bearing down on them. TIE/Ds made up the majority of the advancing chaff, but in between their distinctive shells I was able to spot transport shuttles, weaving in between fire as best as possible whenever they were caught out in the open.

It was stupid. Suicidal. No properly led force would ever even think of committing to a bloody boarding action of all things during a time like this, not when the rest of their fleet was currently in the midst of dying.

Almost without thinking, my free hand came up, mechanical fingers briefly grasping at the painfully expensive material woven into my half cape, the sight of a pair of dark starfighters handily managing to avoid blasts that should have killed a lesser pilot a dozen times over taking up my attention.

But evidently, we’d apparently had the bad luck of running into a force that wasn’t being led by some overly courageous Imperial admiral.

How unfortunate.