17 through Passion I gain strength 3 (1/2)

Short time ago

Rodia

Outer Rim

A nineteen years old, wet behind the ears ensign was surveying the bridge of the Acclamator Dauntless. To be fair, he should not even be there – the young man had graduated from the Naval Academy on his home world of Axxila only five short weeks ago. He found himself assigned to the GAR when the Senator of his world decided to show his support for the war by arranging most of the graduating class to ”volunteer” for duty with the fleet. The green officer was called Firmus Piett. He was a short, brown haired man with piercing black eyes.

The ensign had the pleasure to be one of only three officers assigned to the Dauntless who were not clones. Those were the Captain, one Gram Tager, an experienced Corellian spacer with decades of service in that systems defense fleet. The other, was one of the lieutenants – Lars Robat. The rest of the crew, without exception were wearing the same brown faces. That of a mandalorian bounty hunter if the rumors were true. At least the clones usually knew their jobs though most of them, at least on his ship, lacked creativity and tended to do things by the book.

Piett was left to tend the shop, while the rest of the command crew were on a briefing in the capital, which was mostly used as an opportunity to chill off after the boring patrol they were conducting. Even now, when reinforcing Rodia and hunting down the few stray clankers left, and providing humanitarian aid to the starving population it was not a major change of pace for the starship officers. Most if not all ground operations were conducted by the clone commanders and their subordinates.

As the new man, so to speak, Firmus got to draw the short stick and remained as the ranking officer on board. However he was not particularly disappointed by that. Rodia was a hot, wet planet which was covered by swamps. Not his favorite climate. So he was content to remain on the bridge of the Acclamator where he was enjoying the blessings of the environmental controls which kept the inside of the ship pleasantly cool.

The Ensign was checking one of the endless reports which go hand in hand with running a major spaceship, this one dealing with the supply state of the cruiser. The Dauntless was an experimental Acclamator, a hybrid between carrier and assault ship which was able to deploy both ground forces and V-19 Torrent starfighters. Which, while useful depending on the situation, was hell on the logistics front.

Firmus was finishing a report showing the supply state of the fighter wings stationed on his ship when a message came in. The Venator that was transporting Nute Gunray, one of the leaders of the Separatists to Coruscant was under attack. For some reason the cruiser had not jumped to hyperspace shortly after getting the prisoner aboard and now its captain and crew were paying the price.

The young man was gripped by indecision for a few handful of seconds. At least a third of the ground troops were still on board as well as a lot of equipment and two squadrons of starfighters. The enemy attack was occurring over the side of the planet where the Dauntless and few other assault ships were landed. So he was on board one of the few Republic cruisers that could respond to the distress call in short amount of time. The only force that could do so faster was the cap flying in low orbit of the planet but that was only two squadrons of Torrents and a single wing of bombers. It might be enough to help the Tranquility deal with the three reported enemy frigates. A Venator with such support was a Match for so few Munificents. But the cruiser was reported to be boarded so it was all academic.

”Raise the ramps! Prepare for emergency launch! I want all fighters ready for combat yesterday!” Piett started snapping orders.

One of these days it may be his ship in distress and he hoped that whoever Republic captain was around would choose to assist.

=RK=

The Dauntless was breaking orbit carried by its powerful engines. The navcomputer was already busy with calculating vectors for a combat micro-jump. To Piett's unpleasant surprise it appeared that he and his ship were the fastest to respond if you do not count the CAP which was already on the way. The next ship, another Acclamator, that would be able to launch won't arrive for fifteen more minutes. It was a bloody eternity considering that the Tranquility was crippled and her captain was shouting frantically for support. Apparently one of the boarding parties was able to damage the reactor which had scrammed. With boarders running rampart and the main power out of the equation, the Venator did not have a chance.

Piett was watching on the holographic displays framing the bridge a representation of the vicious battle. The fighter compliment of the besieged cruiser had managed to knock out one of the enemy frigates and now, assisted by the cap and the bombers were attacking a second. For few short seconds it looked like that the Dauntless would arrive in time to assist with mopping up the enemy fighters. The second Munificent was shattered by a massed torpedo strike when two more CIS frigates jumped into the fray. They immediately launched their vulture compliments and suddenly the tide of the battle had changed.

”They did not stand a chance.” muttered the Clone manning the sensors control station.

”Navigation, I want a hyperspace jump plotted for right there.” Piett pointed to a specific place on the holographic display. ”Weapons, I want you to open fire at this formation of droid fighters the moment we complete transition. ”

RK=

Battlefield near Rodia

Outer Rim

I pulled up the control stick of my fighter with all my might and in a fit of desperation used the Force to help steer my sluggish Torrent. It pointed its nose upward and headed onto new a vector under the thrust of its over-stressing engines. It was not a moment too soon. A white and red colored mountain of armor and weapons appeared in front of me. I felt the belly of my fighter scrapping on its hull and I was nearly thrown out of my seat to bounce around the cockpit despite the shock webbing keeping me in place. The lost wing turned out to be an unexpected boon when I nearly struck a turret mount as it flashed by me on the right. If the wing was still intact that collision would have been the end of me.

I pulled out of my climb and smiled in relief. As I passed near the single bridge pylon of the Acclamator that had just saved my life (and nearly smeared me all over its hull) I glanced a relieved looking young officer on the bridge. Surprisingly he was not a clone.