Rebel Squadrons

ORW3:SC End of Competition NL

By FA Dave Trebonious-Astoris
Unit: The Rebel Squadrons
Narrative, Mar 29, 2007
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Greetings RS members,

As you probably know, Outer Rim War 3: The Subterrel Conflict has come to a conclusion. The purpose of this newsletter is to explain how the competition ended, who won, and to recognize those from the RS who participated.

-=The end of ORW3=-
I'm sure many of you are wondering why exactly ORW3 ended when it did. According to the rules established at the beginning of the competition, it should have lasted until one of the three factions defeated its opponents and won control of all 12 systems in the Subterrel Sector. Unfortunately, we didn't quite get to this point. As of the last battle, Battle 7, the Sith faction had 11 systems and the Rebel faction had only one. Battle 8 should have been a do-or-die battle for the RS and Rebel faction. Instead, the Dark Brotherhood pulled out of the competition. Since they were the only real club playing for the Sith faction, this left the Rebels without an opponent. Therefore the Rebel faction won by default since it was the last faction standing on the field of battle. Why did the DB drop out of ORW3? Officially, they gave a couple reasons. They insist that they want to pay more attention to their internal competitions at the moment. They also complained that the rules were changed but the ORW Council did not follow the changed rules and that if the Council did follow them, the Rebels would have been at 0 systems at the end of Battle 7 rather than 1. This complaint can be discounted. The ORW Council never agreed to any change of rules that would have made Battle 7 worth 3 systems. Battle 7 cost the Rebels 2 systems and left them at one total remaining, and the DB simply pulled out rather than try to finish the job.

-=The victor: Rebels!=-
As a result of this, the Rebel faction wins ORW3 by default. This was obviously not the ideal outcome and is definitely anti-climactic, but we can't force other clubs to participate if they do not want to do so. Commodore Michael Raven has written an excellent narrative that fictionally describes how the RS and its rebel allies turned the tide, despite being reduced to a desperate last stand. You can find that narrative at the end of this NL.

Over the course of the competition, 27 RSers participated and represented us in the Rebel faction. In recognition of their service, they have already received RS merits as well as combat medals in proportion to their contributions. However, I would like to recognize them once more. I'm happy to present each and every person who participated in ORW3 with a new commemorative medal, the Subterrel Campaign Medal. Thank you all for representing the RS in the trenches in ORW3! This medal has been awarded to all participants, who are listed here:

GEN Harley "Jester" Quinn
COM Michael Raven
RA Patrick Blastfire
CPT Joshua "AgentYoda" Mumishi
LCM Olith Hesto
MAJ Gavin Starseeker
LJG Odin Vaaj Bruth`Kothae
LGN David "Heavy" Pasiechnyk
CMDR Kane "Kay" Dev Redron
MAJ Jotheb Tahn
FA Dave Trebonious-Astoris
FA Kaz Falcion
CMDR Luren "DaLe" Ketan
MGN Anton "Ups" Nels
MAJ Reb Jaxra
MGN Phil Darkfire
CPT Hyde
MAJ James "Corsair" Folen
LJG Max Reem
VA Tyrell "Spokes" Borran
LJG Blackhawk
BGN David Vaughan
GEN Sienn Sconn
1LT Jalen Ramz
MAJ Keldar "Whisper" Wenn
1LT Merlance
MAJ Devara Nomobgo

In conclusion, I'd like to first thank some people. A small committee of representatives from most of the clubs involved spent many hours back in 2006 carefully debating the merits of the rules and special thanks should go to GE Munro Burton and RS Raven amongst that group. RS Jon Anchorage was vital in the very early stages of organizing the competition because he put in the work of emailing dozens of different club representatives to try to find clubs willing to join ORW3. The work of DB Orv Dessrx in coding the web-based match reporter should not go unnoticed, as it revolutionized the way we reported and administrated the competition. RS Terrak Jace is owed thanks for his work on graphics for the ORW3 site. NR5F Wolverine, GE Thot Ghor, and NR5F Mike Skywaler wrote the fictional Outer Rim Times Newsletter which was always entertaining to read. Finally, the competition could not have happened without the dedication of DB Karel, the chief moderator and my most important collaborator in administrative decisions over the course of the competition. I also thank all other individuals who were involved in ORW3 on any level for your assistance in making this competition a reality.

I should also mention that the ORW3 webpage has been modified to reflect the fact that the competition has now ended. It will remain up for historical purposes for anybody who is interested in looking at it. Finally, I'd like to note that the End of ORW narrative, below, should not be confused with the RS-wide ITOD narratives that have been released lately, although the characters in it are largely the same. The narrative is written by Commodore Michael Raven.

-----Begin narrative-----

-=Bridge of the Imperial I-class Star Destroyer Redemption, high orbit over Azemin, Unknown time=-

"Full damage report!”

Fleet Admiral Kaz Falcion’s voice broke the eerie silence on the bridge of the Redemption. The crew had been silent since the gargantuan warship barely escaped an ambush by three others of her kind only minutes ago. The blood red insignia emblazoned on their hulls having burned its way into their minds. Officers and enlisted men alike pick themselves out of the rubble and debris surrounding them. The bridge was in shambles, having sustained multiple direct hits by the opposing Star Destroyers, bulkheads litter the crew pit area some having smashed entire consoles, others landing dangerously close to the exposed crew below. By some grace of the Force, or whatever deity the crew believed in, some say that the Fleet Admiral himself is supposed to be a center of worship; most of the bridge crew had escaped without injury.

“The bow shield grid is shot, completely shot... Damage control teams are grabbing some of the spare matrix relays but I’d say without a trip to a full repair yard we aren’t going to get more than sixty percent out of them. Aft shields are at twelve percent and fluctuating, port and starboard shields are down but I can take care of those from here. Generator two is fluctuating and I’m going to have to take her offline... give me two days.” The shield officer reports first, the other assorted bridge officers lacking the raw courage to report bad news to the admiral.

“...Eighty Percent and you have one day.” The admiral responds emotionlessly, looking out of his cracked prow viewport.

“...Yes sir...” He responds reluctantly, before turning to his console to attempt to re-establish the shields.

“Sir, weapons are running at about thirty two percent, two of the deck guns are damaged, and the power grid is completely fried to most of the prow and starboard weapon systems. Ion cannons are shot, turbolaser batteries twenty two through thirty nine are completely out of commission at the moment.” This time it was the gunnery station, the officer standing there having just removed enough debris from his console so that he could read the streaming reports coming in.

“Lateral sensor grid is shot, we can see about eighty kilometers ahead of ourselves but past that we’re running with our own eyes. Dorsal sensor grid is shot, ventral sensor grid is offline, COMSCAN is completely fried, but I’ll have that up soon. Internal chronometers are completely fried, and we have no reference to reset them with.”

“Long range communications offline, holographic communications offline, we’re deaf and mute, sir. We’re going to start using Mon Calamari blink code with whatever turbolasers are still online.”

“Hangar doors are sealed shut, we’re lucky they didn’t breach. My crews will have them open again within the hour. Hangar tractor beams are out, and will be out for at least a day, everything will have to be done manually.”

“Hull integrity at sixty two percent, we’ve got minor breaching across decks five through seven, eleven and twelve, and a minor breach just outside of engineering. Looks like there’s an active torpedo lodged in the hull, just below the command tower. I’ve dispatched a team to disarm and remove it.”

“Maneuvering ion thrusters are offline, two of the Destroyer-I ion engines overloaded from the emergency power boost. All four Gemon-4s are out… Primary hyperdrive blew right after we exited hyperspace. Backup hyperdrive is shot... We’re looking at a maximum speed of about twelve MGLT.”

“Main reactor core is down; we took her offline to prevent a catastrophic breach. Secondary generators are offline, and we used most of the back-up cells in that hyperspace jump and to shunt power to the engines, but… we should be fine until the main reactor is operational.”

With each station report, the scowl on Kaz’s face seemed to increase exponentially in magnitude. Once the last report was rattled off, a silence set across the bridge again. Kaz rises from his command chair, and as he rises, a dull snap resonates through the bridge as it breaks loose from its base, falling to the hard durasteel floor in a crash of metal-on-metal. Kaz visibly twitches as he turns toward the crew pit area, his steely silver eyes piercing even the sturdiest of hearts. The bridge falls completely silent as every pair of eyes turns to look at the admiral, a deck officer is frozen in mid-stride, her head craned to watch as the admiral pauses just above the crew pit; folding his hands behind his back. He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply before the two silver orbs snap open again; he speaks slowly, but powerfully.

“I want all stations back online in forty eight hours. Any officer that does not have their men in line and their systems functional will feel the full fury of my unbridled rage. Deck officer, I want Raven in the conference room twenty minutes ago. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?” He bellows, his eyes nearly shuddering with pent up anger.

“YES SIR.” The entire bridge nearly resounds in unison. The deck officer unfreezes from her mid-stride stance, nearly plowing into a bulkhead.

Kaz nods to nobody in particular before striding toward the conference room, leaving the bridge crew to ponder what he had in store for the SSF strike force leader...

-=Primary conference room, Imperial I-class Star Destroyer Redemption, 20 minutes later=-

“If you knew how to command a strike force, we wouldn’t be in this situation you kriffing bean counter!” Kaz screams at Raven, standing in front of the conference room table with his palms flattened on top of it. Assorted insults had flown back and forth between the two men since Raven had arrived at Kaz’s summon, nearly ten minutes prior. They only seemed to fuel the shared rage by the two commanders, one leading the entire strike force in what seemed to be a hopeless battle against a far superior force; the other leading his single starship at the behest of the former. Raven’s stance was similar to Kaz’s, though on the opposite end of the table.

“If you were to get off your kriffing ass and actually do something instead of taking root in that damned chair of yours, maybe some of these engagements would have gone our way!”

“YOU are the one in charge of this strike force; it’s YOUR flawed tactics that have gotten us into these losing engagements in the first place!”

“Do you expect me to be responsible for the actions of every man here?! Each ship is their captain’s responsibility; read: YOURS. I am just here to maintain overall command and control of the situation!”

“You clearly fail at your job, and at life.”


“Yes, go on, realize that you completely fail, in fact, why don’t you go kill yourself and save us all the trouble?”

“Listen you pompous ass. Why don’t you do something constructive like leaping into one of the fires scattered around the ship. I’m sure we can find a nice one for you to take a walk into!”

“Cry more. And congratulations on attempting to use an insult I just used on you, clearly... Fail.”

Just as it seemed that Raven was going to leap across the table in one motion and throttle Kaz, the two of them are interrupted by the conference room doors sliding open. Their two heads snap over toward the disturbance, both voices booming out.


“S...S...Sirs?” It was the bridge deck officer, a young Lieutenant by the name of Janet Melody. She stands in the open door arch, trembling slightly. “O...One of the recon flight officers just returned… he wants to speak with the two of you... he says it is urgent.”

The officer’s statement seemed to confuse Kaz for a moment, his rage transforming into a furrowed brow. “Wait, what? I thought the hangar doors were sealed shut.”

“They are, sir. He ejected from his craft and entered through one of the hull breaches to get inside, sir.” She responds, slowly regaining her composure.

Both Raven and Kaz glance at each other with the same half-shocked half-enraged look on their faces.

“Business first?”

“Business first.”

The two take their seats, before Kaz nods to the deck officer. “Send him in.”

She nods, stepping out of the conference room. After a moment, Phil Darkfire bursts into the conference room; his flight suit disheveled on his body. Without a moment’s hesitation he walks to the conference table, slipping a data card into the room’s holoprojector. A planetary system appears before the three men, a lush blue-green world materializing with small pinprick-sized stations orbiting it. Phil taps a few additional commands into the projector, having not said a single word up to this point. The projector’s display magnifies, focusing on a clustering of stations, ranging from repair yards to a half-constructed planetary shipyard. Surrounding these installations are dozens, perhaps hundreds of ships of every shape and size; from corvettes, gunships and carracks, to a small clustering of four Imperial II-class Star Destroyers.

“Sirs, they’re coming for us. I was running recon in grid nine-seven-alpha after a few of our transports were reported lost near there; and stumbled upon a small flotilla of starships. They didn’t detect my fighter so I decided to remain at a distance and follow them; they made their way here, to the Pyaimm system. They joined up with another formation of ships here...” He points to a grouping of ships on the display, near the shipyard. “...and started taking on shuttles and transports from the repair yards. I was running virtually no systems, just passive sensors, and thought it’d be best to stay around… After about ten minutes of little action, three Star Destroyers entered the system, followed by another dozen or so capital ships. A fourth Star Destroyer and her escorts arrived a short time later; and began forming up into attack squadrons. Sirs, I can only imagine that they’re amassing their entire fleet to take us out while we’re on the ropes.” Phil says, exasperated.

“Did you get any data on their ships?” Raven asks as he inches closer to the projector, his eyes surveying the ships and their formations.

“Nothing close... but... I don’t know if it’s much but the four Star Destroyers have taken up a central position in their formations, and were taking on quite a few shuttles, but very few transports and assault transports.” Phil replies, regaining his composure from having run through half the ship to get to the conference room.

“Officers, probably.” Kaz says, shrugging. “Does it really matter? This just means we’re going to pack our bags and leave before the landlord comes to collect rent.”

“Wait...” Raven says, staring at the fleet formation and the holographic starships from mere inches away; his face distorted by the image being projected. “...There might be another option...”

“...Oh no you don’t.”

“Phil, thank you for this information, I’ll be sure to add another nice shiny object to your medal case if we make it back.” Raven says, a grin forming across his face as a plan formulates in his mind.

“If? Sir?” Phil asks with a quirked eyebrow and slightly worried tone.

“Well, if not... We can always make it a posthumous award.”

-=Primary Conference Room, Imperial I-class Star Destroyer Redemption, 3 hours later=-

“...and essentially, that’s the plan.” Raven finishes his pitch with a simple statement before taking his seat again. Arrayed around him was a group of officers from both the Subterrel Strike Force, and a second New Republic team, Battle Group Hunter. The battle group had been in the Subterrel sector for nearly as long as the Rebel Squadrons, unknowingly fighting in parallel to each other for quite some time before an accidental meeting. Since then, the two had become unofficial allies in the fight against the two opposing Imperial aligned factions. With both groups now on the verge of annihilation, Kaz had dispatched couriers to summon them to the Redemption to pitch a daring plan to turn the tides on their foes.

“You’re either mad or insane.” The commanding officer of the battle group, High Admiral Angelus, speaks first, staring at Raven in mild disbelief at the plan he had just heard. “There’s absolutely no way that will work, no way in hell.”

“It can work. We’ll have the element of surprise on our side, and we know their fleet positioning and layout… What alternatives do we have?” Raven replies, knowing that Battle Group Hunter had been sustaining heavy losses in the last few conflicts as well.

“We get in our ships and go home.” This time it was another member of Hunter, Rear Admiral Marcus Gustavsson, who spoke.

“Sure, and run right into the interdictors and assault ships they are sure to have waiting for us at every hyperlane out of here. They are amassing their entire fleet to wipe us out in one swift stroke. If we don’t break out of the cage and take the fight to them, we will sign the death warrants for every man and woman under our command.” His tone increasing in intensity, Raven glares daggers into the High Admiral’s eyes. “This is your call. Our men are ready and ABLE to do what we ask of them; we CAN pull this off. Are you willing to take the chance or should we sit back and watch the light show of a thousand turbolasers hitting your bridge?”

“...Assuming your crazy ass survives… Battle Group Hunter will be ready to do our part.” The High Admiral says, nodding slightly.

“Then I believe we’re done here... thank you.” Raven says, closing his eyes momentarily, letting a breath out.

After a few moments, the officers of Battle Group Hunter leave the Redemption’s briefing room for the shuttles that had ferried them from the Angel of Death. Kaz and Raven sit silently in the conference room, both men reflecting on what was about to occur.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” Kaz breaks the silence, glancing over at Raven.

“I can’t believe you agreed to it.”

“Momentary lapse of judgment. When I regain my senses I’ll kill you.”

“Fair enough.”

-=Bridge of the Imperial I-class Star Destroyer Redemption, unknown time=-

“Calculations for in-sector microjump nearly complete sir.”

“Excellent, all stations, report!” Kaz bellows after acknowledging the engine officer.

“Power generators running at maximum.”

“Sensors online.”

“Communications online.”

“Engines online.”

“Shields are up, sir!”

“Weapons at full charge.”

“All ships ready for launch.”

“All strike force craft report full battle readiness.”

Kaz grins to himself, there was a certain euphoric rush that always hit him right before a battle; particularly a large battle. He knew what while out-gunned and out-numbered, his crew was perhaps the most well-tuned machine in this part of the galaxy. He glances over at Raven, who took up a position near the prow viewport, a communications console in front of him to coordinate the battle. He glances to his officers, all looking up at him awaiting their next orders. His gaze turns back toward space, his silver eyes locking forward as he gazes out at the stars…

“Microjump calculations completed, we’ve transferred them to the strike group. Hyperspace in five, four, three, two, one...”

The Redemption lurches forward as she rockets into the chaotic blue-white void known as hyperspace, but only for a moment, not a second later she reverts into real space... three kilometers off the bow of a red-emblazoned Star Destroyer.

“ALL BATTERIES! TARGET THEIR BRIDGE AND FIRE AT WILL!” Kaz screams, his eyes locked upon the Imperial II-class Star Destroyer directly ahead.

Immediately, streams of turbolaser fire of all shapes and sizes lance out from the Redemption’s primary guns, secondary blasts appearing from her port and starboard side as flanking starships unload their entire prow weapon arrays into the massive prow hull laid out before them. The first turbolaser blasts rip into armor plating, hot globs of liquefied metal eruptint out of the Star Destroyer's dorsal flank, floating aimlessly in front of the ship. Other blasts slam into the command tower of the Star Destroyer, tearing into its reinforced hull plating, each blast peeling away centimeters of armor. The volley sustains for several long seconds, the hull of the enemy Star Destroyer withstanding blast after blast as its crew scrambles for their battle stations, having been caught completely unawares.

With a groan that fills the entire vessel, the Redemption’s main batteries finally fire, enormous blasts of green energy searing from her hull, reaching out to slam into the enemy Star Destroyer. Entire chunks of hull are blown clear out of the starship, secondary eruptions bristling its hull as key systems are utterly annihilated under the barrage of gigajoules of energy. The Star Destroyer lists forward, before its entire command tower is engulfed in a ball of white plasma which expanding for a few hundred meters before dissipating; a crater bored into the ventral hull of the once proud starship. The Destroyer shudders for a moment before going completely dark, its lifeless carcass listing toward the planetary surface; quickly accelerating.

“Sir! The destroyers are rotating to attack and are trying to establish their shields! All fighters and support ships have been launched from our hangar and are starting proton bomb runs on the nearest vessel, we’re reading dozens of ships starting to power up!” The sensor officer yells from his station as the Redemption begins to take return fire, her shields easily withstanding the sporadic but intensifying fire.

“Target the nearest Star Destroyer and fire! I don’t care if the weapons boil right off our own hull, keep them firing!”

The Redemption’s entire array of turbolasers, anti-starfighter laser cannons, and massive deck guns, combined with the firepower of the entire remainder of the Subterrel Strike Force comes to full fruition as a monsoon of green and blue bolts traverse space, slamming into the hulls of the now three Star Destroyers that made up the core of the massive fleet arrayed around them. Defensive fire quickly begins to intensify as more and more crewmen reach their stations and swivel their guns to bear upon the nearest New Republic starship, but the seemingly endless downpour from the ships of the Subterrel Strike Force does not halt. Two squadrons of Y-wings burst from the rear of one of the Star Destroyers, searing up the rear of the command tower, their pilots launching torpedo after torpedo into the unshielded aft of the Destroyer.

As if hitting the back of a person’s head with a baseball bat, the rear of the command tower explodes forward, a plume of fire blasting out of the front of the tower and into space. The Y-wings continue their run, traversing down the Destroyer’s dorsal hull, now expunging spherical proton bombs onto its hull. The small but powerful charges lance into the hull, miniature thermal detonations prickle the hull before secondary charges detonate on the damaged sections, ripping apart entire decks under their explosive might.

The Y-wings loop around; both squadrons initiating strafing runs against a separate Star Destroyer as a mixed wing of X-wings and A-wings descend on the starship the Y-wings just finished with. The X-wings open up with a volley of proton torpedoes, blasting apart entire sections of hull that had been damaged by the Y-wings, and critically damaging key systems. The turbolaser fire from the Destroyer quickly becomes disorganized as the gunners attempt to keep track of the smaller targets swooping over the starship’s hull, and even more sporadic as the torpedoes tear into power relays and conduits, severing connections and sending powerful surges across others.

The A-wings rocket along the length of the Star Destroyer, their dual laser cannons strafing the hull as fast as the pilots could possibly pull their triggers. Concussion missiles suddenly rocket from their dual launchers, ripping into the superstructure of the command tower as the X-wings swoop down toward it, unleashing another volley of proton torpedoes into the command tower. An internal explosion shakes the entire starship as the torpedoes find their marks, and the entire starship seems to shudder for a moment. Rippling explosions rock the entire hull of the Destroyer, hull plating erupting from the inside out, propelling durasteel and quadanium steel armor into space. The entire starship seems to rip apart as an orange fireball engulfs the entire hull; the ship exploding in a brilliant fireball that illuminates sensors for light years.

“Second Star Destroyer down sir!” The Redemption’s sensor officer reports as the ship shakes again from the impact of fire from both remaining Star Destroyers.

“Status of the fleet?”

“Taking hits but alright, their interdictors are charging gravity wells; fifteen minutes until deployment.”

“Is phase two of the operation ready?”

“Yes sir, everything is set!”


The Redemption shudders again as its shields take a tremendous beating from the two Imperial II-class Star Destroyers, one of which had finally established its shields. The other, under precision targeting by the other ships of the Subterrel Strike Force, had lost its ability to establish its shields after having ion blasts litter the hull at critical locations. Every capital ship remaining in the strike force, save the Redemption, was encircling the battered starship like vultures, pouring turbolaser fire and laser fire into its exposed hull. Transport craft and shuttles alike dance around it as well, dropping proton bombs onto its hull, their turreted weapons continuously firing into its red-hot hull.

Enemy starfighters, having been quickly scrambled, begin descending on the Subterrel Strike Force, the full might of the enemy fleet finally being brought to bear. Dozens of capital ships rocket toward them at maximum velocity, unleashing long range turbolaser fire into the fray. Torpedoes and missiles from enemy fighters begin streaking toward Rebel Squadrons starships as they frantically attempt to bring down the third gargantuan destroyer. Impacts rock the smaller but more nimble ships of the Strike Force, but as the enemy forces close on a pair of shield-less ships… they quickly rotate toward open space and blast into hyperspace along predetermined vectors.

The enemy Star Destroyer, not as fortunate or as well-prepared as the Subterrel Strike Force, begins listing to the side as three starships rocket along its ventral hull, concentrating their entire armaments on the carbonite-reinforced dome on the underside of the Destroyer. Blast after blast chips away at armor plating, with each subsequent jolt to the hull causing more critical damage. The three ships blast out from the rear of the Destroyer… and leap into hyperspace as the Solar Ionization Reactor on the Destroyer gives out under the tremendous strain, the entire ship detonating into an expanding white ball of hypermatter before dissipating into nothing but constituent atoms.

“Destroyer three is down! Sir we’re taking heavy damage!”

“I can’t keep the shields established, we’re going to lose them!”

“Order the rest of the fleet into hyperspace, shunt all power from weapons into the shield array and engines... Evacuate all exterior areas of the ship!”

The officers down in the crew pit balk at the order, looking up at the Admiral.


Rushing to complete his orders, they are carried through to the letter, the offensive fire from the Redemption ceases almost immediately; and the remaining ships of the Subterrel Strike Force leap into hyperspace, each escaping ship enraging their attackers more.

“Signal Hunter!”

“But sir, if we signal them with that command ship still op...”

“ARE YOU QUESTIONING ME?!” Kaz screams, his mind racing as his new plan formulates.

“NO SIR! Hunter signal sent!”

“HELM! Bring us about to four five mark three two!”

The starship lurches as the helmsman brings the ship around, every ship within range pounding on the Redemption’s now-reinforced shielding with their weaponry. Even with the entirety of the weapons grid on the Destroyer devoted to feeding the shield generators more power, hits begin leaking through to impact against the hull, causing explosions all across the outer hull of the ship. Kaz watches as the Destroyer finishes its rotation… finding his silver eyes staring straight at the last enemy Star Destroyer.

“...Reroute all power that isn’t going to the shields to the engines! FLANK SPEED!” He screams.

Eyes widening with realization... the bridge crew grabs onto anything near their stations as the Redemption rockets forward with its seven engines glowing bright blue with the amount of power being fed into them. The enemy Star Destroyer’s commander, realizing what the Redemption was doing, orders his ship to pitch downward... but the maneuver comes too late. The Redemption’s armored prow tears into the Star Destroyer as the force of the impact overloads the shield generators on both ships instantly, causing explosions across multiple decks. The Redemption’s nose section rips into the enemy destroyer, the entire starship raking up the dorsal hull toward the command tower.

Every officer on the bridge is thrown from their chairs, sparks and small console explosions ripping across the bridge. Bulkheads, recently patched up, erupt out of their places yet again, littering the floor with debris. The Redemption continues moving forward, ripping into the enemy Destroyer until she comes in contact with the base of the opposing Star Destroyer’s command tower. With a sickening crunch that shakes the entire ship, the Redemption slices the command tower clear off the opposing Star Destroyer. Explosions rip across the hull of the enemy Destroyer as power regulators fail, other systems overloading due to stress, as the Redemption rips clean through it.

A loud groan rips across the Redemption as the enemy Star Destroyer explodes directly under it, tearing large gashes and holes in the already battered hull. The entire nose section of the starship, nearly a full hundred meters, looks like it had been bitten off by some space creature, smashed and mangled beyond recognition. The Redemption shudders as it continues forward, the hull threatening to give way under the stresses of the combat she had just endured.

“HELM! GET US OUT OF HERE!” Kaz screams, scrambling back to his feet as a console erupts into flames far too close to his body.

With a lurch, the Redemption blasts into hyperspace as the helmsman slams his fist on his control board; having pre-calculated their escape vector.

Kaz raises his eyes just before the Redemption hypers out... laughing maniacally as he watches the entirety of Battle Group Hunter exit hyperspace on top of the leaderless, disarrayed Imperial forces. And though, at a price...

The tides had turned.

-----End narrative-----

Dave Trebonious-Astoris
Fleet Commander

=The Rebel Squadrons=
A H.I.E.R. Organization: Honesty, Integrity, Equanimity, Respect


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