Star Wars: The Rogue Knight

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 p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e 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 sh.i.p.s 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 c.o.c.kpit 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.

But I had no time to ponder his identity. The second wave of CIS fighters were too close to pull out. They ran headlong into the onslaught of the close in weapons of the assault ship which was modified to carry twice the normal quantity of flack cannons. As the formation of vultures approached they were swallowed by the firepower arrayed against them. A wall of explosions, which was spiting flaming broken hulks was flying towards the cruiser. A third of the vultures were smashed to rubble when they found themselves without any room to maneuver. Close to another third were unable to evade the armored bulk of the Acclamator and slammed into it. They wrecked some of the gun emplacement but beyond that all they did was to dent the armor. The droid fighter simply had not attained enough velocity to seriously damage the cruiser. I along with my two companions who managed to evade running headlong into the Acclamator pounced gleefully on the disorganized remains of the second vulture wave.

My grin became wider when I saw the assault ship lowering its forward facing ramp and launching fighter squadrons while exchanging broadside fire with the remaining two frigates.

I turned left and shot up a vulture unlucky enough to fly right in front of my fighter.

That's when Mr. Murphy decided to rear his ugly head and end my dog-fighting days in that particular Torrent. My fighter's frame had sustained too much abuse in the short battle and it started falling apart around me. First, the left engine gave up, followed by the c.o.c.kpit lightning up like a Christmas tree with warning lights. The close encounter with the Acclamator had done much more damage to the underside of my ride that I first thought. I concentrated on the Force and used its energies to stabilize my fighter for few more seconds as I flew along the starboard of the assault ship and headed for its open landing ramp. Around me the Acclamator's shields blazed blue as they struggled to disperse the titanic energies bombarding them. My heart threatened to jump out of my c.h.e.s.t – it was beating that fast while I was struggling to pilot the barely responsive Torrent and to maintain its remaining structural integrity by using my will alone.

I was keenly aware of how close my fighter was to shattering under its own momentum. If it had suffered the same damage in atmosphere, I'd be a goner by now. The Torrent was shaking as if I was flying through a hurricane. There were a lot of vital pieces that were still in place and working only thanks to the Force energies keeping them together.

I banked under the nose of the cruiser and my wounded craft managed somehow to remain in one piece (more or less) as I guided it towards the closing ramp. The two still working engines w.h.i.n.ed piteously for one last time and went quiet forever while I was struggling not to smash into the fast approaching deck.

The canopy covering the c.o.c.kpit blew away after I struck the plastic covered ejection button. The micro repulsor placed under my seat activated and I was catapulted away from the fighter. By sheer dumb luck the Torrent managed to survive long enough to carry me through the air retaining force field. It hit the hangar deck and rolled around spilling pieces of its fuselage in all direction. The few clones who were near the crash jumped away in search of cover.

My seat tumbled through the air and I was doing my best to gently bring it down (and myself, of course). In the end I telekinetically unlocked the straps keeping me in place and jumped to the floor. It proved far easier than halting the momentum of the spinning chair and floating it down.

Once I was securely on my feet I watched with amus.e.m.e.nt how my seat bounced off the armored nose of an artillery walker. Then I raised my hands in a non-threatening manner when about a platoon of clones pointed their blasters at me. They did not appreciate my entrance and messing up their orderly ship.

"I am Delkatar Veil. I'm with the Jedi who were escorting Nute Gunray to Coruscant. I want to thank your captain for his timely intervention."

"The captain is not on board. Ensign Piett has command." said a clone lieutenant.

Interesting. Was that Firmus Piett, the fella who would have become a captain and later Admiral under Vader's command, in that future that would no longer happen?

"Lieutenant, please patch me to your commander."

=RK

"This is Ensign Piett, acting commander of the Dauntless. Who am I speaking with?" asked the young officer without moving his eyes from the tactical display. "Target their starboard hangar with the next couple of salvos. I don't want that frigate launching any more small craft."

"This is Delkatar Veil. I am with the Jedi escorting Gunray. "

"And? I hope that this is not a social call. I am a bit busy right now." Firmus nearly snapped at the stranger.

This was his first real space battle, one in which he was in charge of the whole ship, no less. It was no surprise that he was on edge.

"The Viceroy is dead. I want to borrow a few of you LAAT's and visit one of the remaining frigates."

The first thought of the ensign was that this Veil character was insane. Or Jedi. Perhaps both. Then he considered the idea. If the battle continued as it was, soon the Republic would have space superiority and leave only the Munificents as threats. However the bomber wing was decimated and the Dauntless had a third of its heavy guns replaced with additional flack cannons. It was great for dealing with that damn vulture swarm but it also meant that he did not have the firepower to batter the shields of the second Munificent before the frigate escaping if it chose to do so. The other one, with which his ship was trading broadsides was another matter. At this short range the CIS craft did not stand a chance. It was a good thing that the Acclamator class had a novel shield design consisting of multiple redundant generators. That Dauntless a huge advantage versus its enemy in the point blank slugging match they were engaged in.

"Get few gunsh.i.p.s out to gather the Tranquility's escape pods before the clankers blow them up out of spite." Piett ordered and then turned his attention on the unexpected guest on his ship. "What are you planning to do with my men, Veil?"

The ensign raised an eyebrow when he heard the idea of the man. It was audacious and explained why he wanted to risk his life for taking a single enemy frigate when the battle was all but won. It was only a matter of time before the Separatist space forces were reduced. Unless heavy enemy reinforcements came in the next six or seven minutes before additional sh.i.p.s from Rodia arrived.