Watching as the MC80b fell apart, absorbing three salvos of proton torpedoes at once, Wedge Antilles could no longer tear his eyes away from the tactical monitors on the bridge of his new flagship.
The Victory II-class Star Destroyer, named in honor of the late Supreme Commander Gial Ackbar, held the center of the Republic fleet's formation, supporting the advance with fire from all its guns.
Thrawn had managed to catch them off guard, arriving with his fleet at the location of Wedge's fleet base.
Trapped by the gravitational anomaly and the "bowl" of Dominion Star Destroyers on one side and the planetary orbit on the other, the New Republic ships suffered losses from the very first moments of the confrontation.
Already two dozen ships had been turned into space debris—and this had happened by no means due to someone's carelessness or betrayal.
And the precise, terribly precise salvos from Thrawn's Star Destroyers had nothing to do with it either.
"They clearly have more than one of these magical fighters," Wedge turned away from the image of the exploding escort frigate.
The Nebulon-B2 had taken about a dozen proton torpedoes to the stern, and a huge glowing sphere formed where the engines had been—the reactors had detonated.
The helpless bow section continued moving by inertia.
Receiving a kick from the shock wave, the remains of the ship spun, deprived of protection and the ability to stabilize course.
The two Dominion Victories holding on the left flank shifted the fire of their guns to the remnants of the New Republic ship.
It took only a few minutes for the ship to cease to exist. Even in the form of the bow section.
By this point, Wedge had already closed his ships—forty MC80-series Star Cruisers and two dozen escort frigates—with the Dominion fleet at a distance of forty units.
Now the shootout between the ships was being conducted almost at point-blank range.
Held from fleeing into hyperspace by the gravity wells of four Interdictor-class Star Destroyers, Wedge's fleet was forced to engage the Dominion fleet.
The initial tactic, based on defense under the cover of Golan stations, proved ineffective.
Antilles understood this as soon as two pairs of Venators appeared in the defense of the Interdictors, undoubtedly armed with ion cannons.
The exit from hyperspace of the latter was accompanied, among other things, by strikes from the "miracle fighters" on Wedge's fleet, leading to losses in the first phase of the battle.
After that, the Corellian moved his ships toward the enemy.
It was pointless to play defense when the enemy, having lured most of the Republic's fighters into battle with their own, had the opportunity to destroy the New Republic Star Cruisers without even closing with them.
A counterattack, if it didn't bring victory, would at least allow some of the Republic starships to break through.
Thrawn positioned his ships in three echelons.
In the center held the Grand Admiral's Star Destroyers, among which a dozen Victories were clear debutants in the battle.
Like the two that Wedge had encountered at Ossus, these twelve ships were not inferior in firepower to some Imperials. The Republic's onboard computers identified among them almost half (specifically seven) that had previously served in the New Republic fleet.
There were also the Monarch and Triumph, lost in the battle at Ciutric IV.
The Emancipator and Swift Liberty, which had participated in the attack on the Oplovis sector.
The Selonian Fire and Corusc Fire, which had disappeared in the Zonju system during the search for the Grand Admiral's fleet that had retreated from the Mustafar system.
The seventh Victory had disappeared while escorting one of the convoys...
Ten Imperial II-class Star Destroyers, and two dozen "ones" also held in the middle echelon along with the Victories.
And among these ships, besides starships that had previously fought under Republic identification data, the repaired Reckoning from Krennel's fleet, one could notice those that were on the New Republic's wanted list for Imperial terrorists.
The Stalker and Thunderflare—part of Death Squadron, which had disappeared from sight after the liberation of the Elrood sector from Imperial rule.
The Krueger under Captain Reder—another "bandit" and robber operating in the Outer Rim and causing no small amount of trouble to New Republic transports and its remote outposts.
Thrawn clearly hadn't been idle, attracting more and more ships to himself, both by taking them from the New Republic and by capturing Star Destroyers from Imperial rebels, or simply recruiting them into his service.
In the upper and lower echelons, fifty-two Dreadnaught-class heavy cruisers were divided equally into two detachments, and their fire was severely battering Wedge's support forces.
The huge half-bowl pressing the New Republic fleet to the orbit more resembled a noose.
The quartet of Venators, as expected, spat ion flame.
But the targets were by no means Antilles' ships.
The shields of the Golans disappeared in an instant, and the second salvo disabled four out of six stations. The shots that followed shortly afterward at the two remaining Golans clarified the situation for Wedge as clearly as both suns in Tatooine's sky.
"Thrawn is squeezing us into a fire sack," he said, seeing how the flanks of the Dominion fleet began to stretch to completely surround the tormented ranks of New Republic ships under fire.
The support fire had dried up, and now nothing and no one could prevent Thrawn from capturing half a dozen stations, dropping them from orbit onto the planet, destroying the geothermal energy sources and thereby paralyzing its supplies to the Core Worlds.
And even more so, nothing prevented him from completing the encirclement, shooting the New Republic starships under range conditions.
Wedge himself had allowed him to realize this by withdrawing the ships from orbit.
Thrawn had unambiguously offered him two options—stay in place and be shot, or move forward with hope of a breakthrough...
And the second option led to inevitable encirclement and subsequent destruction of one ship after another.
And in this hopeless situation, Wedge saw a chance.
Not believing his eyes, he assessed the position of the enemy ships, assessed the placement of the Venators, a wild thought compared numerous firing vectors...
There it is!
Thrawn made a mistake!
There's a way out!
Perhaps one in a million, perhaps another trap, but its realization could allow the New Republic fleet under his command to at least not lose the battle without any losses on the enemy's side.
And if the Force was with them today, then perhaps they would still manage to defeat the invincible Grand Admiral Thrawn.
"All fleet—turn left ninety degrees for the first formation, right—for the second," ordered Antilles. "Recall fighters for ship cover. Proceed to breakthrough."
The Corellian was sure of nothing, relying simply on his natural luck.
After all, it's literally embedded in the DNA of every native of Corellia.
"Why wouldn't luck finally work?!"
"Thrawn can't foresee literally everything, can he?!"
"Well, he can't, right?"
***
The TIE Avengers came to the Black Wing squadron after the capture of the Ubiqtorate flagship Red Dragon and Epsilon Nine station, where two more squadrons of the same type were located in the landing hangar.
Out of seven dozen—five squadrons of Avengers on the destroyer and two on the station—the Dominionites received three from the first source and one and a half from the second in relatively combat-ready condition.
Through simple manipulations with modular spare parts, they obtained two fully equipped squadrons, created in factory conditions, without the slightest artisanal intervention.
Which were led by Lieutenant Creb and Lieutenant Jainer.
The remaining machines were sent to the Dominion for study, repair, and possibly (which Krieg hoped for)—for subsequent reproduction.
Although the controls were not much different from TIE Interceptors, the new machine, due to the presence of launchers, a different power structure, and deflectors, required a change in the control approach.
Training is training, but in battle, the TIE Avengers clearly surpassed what Jainer had flown before.
He veered the machine aside when the red laser beams from the X-wing that had come up on his tail reduced the power of the protective field.
They didn't penetrate, but significantly cooled the ardor of the pilot accustomed to flying without energy protection. The jubilation that his ship would no longer fall apart from the first accurate hit was replaced by thoughts that the limit of the deflectors' strength should not be tested.
Protection is good, but on interceptors, he and his guys managed to fight without it.
And now they should be even better.
Together with Black Wing, they were breaking through to the very thick of the battle—where dozens of pilots from both sides were dying every second.
Creb had gone on a free hunt but hadn't been able to find the desired target for some time. It was unlikely that Rogue Squadron, whose transponders the Chimaera had detected from the very beginning of the battle, had perished in such a way that they couldn't be found.
The enemy had simply turned off the identification equipment and was now acting so as not to be detected by Creb and his pilots.
The Rogues, of course, were not cowards, but last time Black Wing had destroyed them with one TIE Avenger in the hands of one Creb and eleven interceptors piloted by his clones. Now there were a dozen of the best of the best.
No, Jainer didn't envy his former commander that the honor of hunting the Rogues had fallen to him. To fight the most advertised (and for the most part—rightfully victorious) squadron was the dream of almost every Dominion pilot, as well as the Empire.
But Krieg didn't flatter himself—he was a good pilot, damn good. But that was a bit lacking to deal with the Rogues.
And his order was completely different.
Now they were just moving together with the "blacks" to the battle site, but further their paths diverged. It just so happened that both squadrons returned for rotation at the same time and both left the Chimaera's hangar.
Creb continues the search and destruction of a specific enemy, Jainer and his guys—again guard the squadron of Scimitars, which Major Bren is training before the main battle of the current campaign.
The guys act cohesively, skillfully—and New Republic ships burn, blaze, and decrease in number.
Krieg's task—is not to allow losses among such rare machines and not to allow, in case of failure of the first order, the enemy to get anything from the damaged Scimitars.
It goes without saying that this primarily concerns the PLAE modules. Providing lightning acceleration to the new bombers, these installations were assembled (like the Scimitars themselves) almost by hand. And every specimen that falls into enemy hands brings the Republicans closer to solving this problem.
Performing aerobatic maneuvers, Krieg managed to break away from the pursuer.
Together with his wingman, they turned from pursued into pursuers.
The X-wing calmly evaded the queue from the com esc's laser cannons, came under fire from the wingman, performed a half-roll, and the next moment scattered into pieces, taking two missiles from Jainer right in the stern.
Flying around the miniature star in a parabola, avoiding stray debris, the commander of Gray Wing realized that his fighters, having driven off the annoying Republicans, were left alone.
Creb's guys, led by their lieutenant, had already broken away, rushing in pursuit of several New Republic interceptors that were trying to catch up with the retreating enemy fighters.
The New Republic aviation, as if divided into two parts, hurried to their capital ships.
And those, in turn, veered right and left, relative to the central formation of the Dominion fleet.
Clearly aiming at the flanks surrounding them.
"Not good," Jainer muttered under his breath, directing his squadron to where, according to the plan of this flight, the Scimitars were supposed to strike.
***
"Your opinion, Captain Pellaeon," Gilad heard the quiet tone of the Grand Admiral calmly seated in his chair.
The commander of the Chimaera glanced at Thrawn, but he didn't even twitch an ear, seeing how the attack plan was collapsing.
"Antilles has divided his fleet into two equal flotillas and intends to strike our flanks," the man voiced the logical conclusion. "He will use the concentration of fire from his ships on selected units to disable or destroy them, after which he will break through the barrier and have the opportunity to escape from us in two directions."
"And thereby all efforts to hold his fleet in Sarapin's orbit will go to waste," confirmed Thrawn. "Well, finally they thought of such a simple and effective maneuver."
Yes, interesting another thing—did Thrawn think that the enemy fleet commander would figure out how to break out of the unfinished fire sack, and how exactly to prevent it.
Because Thrawn had demonstrated too much in the current battle.
He had introduced all twelve upgraded Victories into the battle, demonstrating that all of them without exception had received eight-gun heavy turbolaser turrets.
He had involved the Scythe squadron on Scimitars under the command of clones of Major Bren—and this allowed in a short time to disable two dozen enemy starships.
Finally, Thrawn demonstrated that he had at least four Venators equipped with ion cannons.
If previously they were introduced into battle one or two at a time and almost always the enemy was destroyed, which did not allow information to spread beyond the battlefield, now...
As soon as Antilles breaks out of the gravitational vise, as soon as he leaves the system and the suppression of communication channels produced by the Eternal Wrath ceases to operate, then everything—the operation is failed.
The enemy will learn not only this, but also the names of the ships, the Imperials, which Thrawn has put into service and manned. Which means at Sluis Van instead of the expected easy walk, a slaughter awaits them. And with the current forces, it's certainly not enough.
By now, the Dominion fleet had already lost a dozen CR90 corvettes and four heavy cruisers. All these ships were on the edges of the flanks and became the first victims of the current confrontation.
They could easily be shot from the Venators, but the problem is that the enemy perfectly understands the weak point of the Dominionites' initial formation.
Thrawn positioned the ships so that the Dragons could disable the defensive stations—and combined with the overall losses, this prompted Antilles to leave Sarapin's orbit. Further, encirclement and destruction were planned.
Now...
Encirclement doesn't even smell.
On the contrary, Antilles may risk and, breaking through the "half-bowl," may try to envelop the Dominion fleet. When reforming from a blocking order to any other, confusion will inevitably begin, overlapping firing sectors.
And now it won't be Thrawn concentrating the fire of his ships on New Republic starships, but quite the opposite.
In other words—the situation smells a bit of bantha poodoo!
"And something needs to be done about it urgently!"
"I must admit, I am impressed by General Antilles' actions," said Thrawn, watching as the Republican grouping, led by the flagship Victory II, presses on the left flank. "First division of Victories to disengage on the left flank at full speed and together with the Dragons leave the system, overcoming the light barrier to point two. Captain I-Gor to lead the formation and await further orders. The remaining destroyers of the left flank to begin turning left, keeping the enemy in the firing sector. Heavy cruisers—turn one hundred degrees left, without interrupting fire contact. Execute."
What?!
The "half-bowl" was built on the borders of the gravitational anomaly. That the nimble Victories can easily turn around and overtake the departing enemy starships is understandable.
But why withdraw ten Star Destroyers from the battle at once?! It's understandable that the Venators won't be able to fire for the next twenty minutes while reforming. Yes, by that time, part of the enemy ships will clearly manage to get away. Yes, the Scythe would be a great help now, as they could knock out a dozen enemy ships.
But they went on rotation and can only join in some time.
And Thrawn made it clear that they are operating on the right flank.
Then why is he weakening the left?!
Why did he order the two central Interdictors to change position?
The four Imperial-class Star Destroyers closing this direction were frankly choking on enemy fire.
For their crews, this battle was the first large-scale engagement.
Thrawn, considering the scope of the current operations, was forced to take risks, taking under his command, among other things, inexperienced crews, only partially manned by clones. Apart from escort missions to escort cargo to fortress planets and patrolling the metropolis territory of the Dominion, they could not boast that they had combat experience in the campaign in one way or another.
Of course, on these ships, once forming along with the Crimson Dawn the First Division of the Fourth Fleet, there were experienced commanders and clones of Thrawn's campaign veterans...
And one cannot blame them for not being able to hold back the influx of twenty Mon Calamari Star Cruisers, escort frigates, Antilles' Victory II while performing a double Ackbar Slash maneuver with an entire fleet, not in column formation, undoubtedly.
"Report to the Impartial, Ubiquitous, Fateful, and Stormfront," Thrawn named the four Star Destroyers, "as well as their operational formations, that they need to increase speed to three-quarters and simultaneously turn right seven degrees. Scythe squadron to destroy cover ships. Sentinel and Constrainer to deactivate generators, perform a forty-five degree turn left and await new orders."
"Yes, sir," Pellaeon replied mechanically.
And only after that did he realize that Thrawn had just ordered the quartet of destroyers and cruisers (you don't even think about corvettes and frigates at such moments) to simply get out of the way of Wedge Antilles' fleet.
Yes, they didn't just run away—the Scimitars of the Scythe squadron under Major Bren's command smashed two Star Cruisers and all cover starships to smithereens.
But this was happening on the right flank!
On the left, Thrawn was effectively letting Antilles go free, not allowing him to inflict massive damage on the quartet of Star Destroyers.
Yes, on the right flank—a rout—Dorja, Stormaer, Astorias, Abyss, Reder, Lennox, and Mor on the Relentless, Abyssal Fury, Stormhawk, Void Wanderer, Krueger, Black Star, and Inexorable arranged a slaughter with the support of Point of No Return, Twilight, Red Gauntlet, Wolf's Claw, and six Victories. Thrawn had placed the most prepared, most experienced "original" captains he had on this direction. Dorja commanding them had full freedom of action within the general order, and now he was using it to the fullest.
He skillfully used the numerous turbolasers, ion cannons, and launchers at his disposal. The number of Star Cruisers and support ships remaining with the enemy stubbornly pushed forward, fiercely snapping back and intending to escape the hurricane bombardment.
The Krueger, Black Star, and Void Wanderer, along with the Abyssal Fury, also on the edge of the flank, but now the right one, came under enemy fire but reacted unconventionally.
Obviously, Dorja noticed Antilles' maneuver earlier, or just guessed, but these four Star Destroyers simply broke away from the general formation and ended up on the enemy's left flank during the breakthrough.
Effectively performing the Ackbar Slash, the Corellian held most of Dorja's subordinate formations on the right beam, and on the left—only four Star Destroyers, on which he tried to play out just like on the quartet of similar ships on the left flank.
But not so fast.
With the support of Scythe, Dorja not only cut out the enemy's light ships, which allowed him to unleash dozens of corvettes on the Republicans without much fear that they would perish in battles with their peers, but also the Republican starships couldn't properly fire on the Krueger, Black Star, Void Wanderer, and Abyssal Fury.
Because they held in the projection of the quartet of immobilized orbital stations, and any miss on them, this scourge of rapid-fire turbolaser shooting, led to shelling the stations. Which, obviously, had a much larger profile than the squat Star Destroyers.
Whether Antilles turned out to be such a humanist, or rightly feared that spy droids were recording the battle and such shooting would be used as evidence during Thrawn's appearance on the HoloNet, but instead of hurricane bombardment on these ships and their escort, the Republicans limited themselves to sharp targeted shots.
Which didn't prevent Reder, Lennox, Abyss, and Stormaer from acting with all available calibers. And if Gilad understood correctly, the four destroyers were also managing to land troops on the stations in parallel.
Virtuoso!
If this isn't the private initiative of these four captains, then Dorja will clearly get a promotion based on the results of this battle!
But, returning to the left flank commanded by Thrawn, one cannot say that everything is as rosy there.
The Impartial, Ubiquitous, Fateful, and Stormfront had already executed the Grand Admiral's order, and effectively these "ones" ended up in the rear of Antilles' retreating grouping.
The Chimaera, Dawnstrider, Autumn Pillar, Reckoning, Resolute, Captain Rensen, Stalker, Lunar Shadow, Memory of Liinade (which before the battle in the Barpine system pretended to be the Liquidator), and six Victories with twenty-six heavy cruisers and eight second-line destroyers—Venators and Interdictors—now had to bend into a "snake," a mirror letter "S."
"Sentinel and Constrainer have completed the turn," reported the watch chief.
"Excellent," the Grand Admiral said calmly. "Captain, transmit the order—release shuttles under TIE fighter escort to search for downed pilots in the central battle sector."
Pellaeon, without taking his eyes off as the Chimaera's port side smashed the protection of the already blackened from hits but still not exploding MC80b, switched his attention to the overall battle picture.
For a few seconds, he simply examined the picture, assessing the position...
The Impartial, Ubiquitous, Fateful, and Stormfront were now in the enemy's rear and, having turned, were firing on the enemy's trailing ships. The heavy cruisers, repeating the turn maneuver, supported them in this.
The remaining Star Destroyers, the "twos," were just completing the maneuver, while the Victories and Dragons were already gone without a trace.
"Turn maneuver completed!" reported Pellaeon.
The Chimaera, like the other "twos," was again wedge-nosed to the enemy.
The left flank showered the left beams of Antilles' flotilla with turbolaser and ion fire.
But in the time that the turbolaser fire had died down during the turn, the enemy had managed to raise the shield level, and now the Star Cruisers' deflectors so amusingly absorbed the energy projectiles.
"Excellent," Thrawn repeated like a mantra. "Captain Pellaeon, how much time do you think General Antilles' ships on the left flank will need to leave the gravitational anomaly area created by the Constrainer's generators?"
"Five minutes, sir," Pellaeon estimated by eye, based on the ships' positions, their speed, and proximity to the cone-shaped boundary of the specified zone.
"Ten-forty seconds, to be precise," corrected Thrawn. "What is the time for a full turn of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer?"
What kind of test on knowledge of materiel is this?
At such a time?!
"Three minutes and ten seconds, sir," Pellaeon knew how to keep his emotions under control, which sometimes broke through in such dangerous moments.
"For Victories and Venators a bit more," the Grand Admiral said thoughtfully. "However, that's no longer important."
Of course it's not important! You sent those ships out of the system!
Antilles will break through now!
Thrawn had accustomed them too much to victories with little blood, small forces, and grandiose defeats of the enemy.
Hence this anger—they were effectively outmaneuvered!
All plans down the drain!
It wasn't possible to just look at the smoking holes in the Impartial, Ubiquitous, Fateful, and Stormfront and the blackened hulks of corvettes, the holed cruisers... The Dominion was winning with a "dry" score! Why did Thrawn, knowing that the enemy has more protected ships, deliberately bring fewer Star Destroyers here?! Why didn't he use the reserves they have? Why from the Ubiqtorate fleet did he take only the Stalker and Thunderflare, although the others are also repaired, and the crews on them are adequate, now loyal to the Dominion! Well, except perhaps with the Red Dragon not everything is so unambiguous... Why did he leave these destroyers in the metropolis! Even with half crews, they could be useful now. They would hold with heavy cruisers and help with artillery, bombers...
If only the artificial gravity field didn't end so soon, there would still be a chance!
Yes, Antilles now...
Struck by the guess
With a light bell ring, the puzzle pieces came together into a single picture.
"Sir," coughing into his fist, Gilad addressed the Chiss, catching the concerned look of the Jedi Skywalker silently watching what was happening. "Should I give the order to Sentinel and Constrainer to activate the gravity well generators?"
"I thought you wouldn't ask, Captain," a smile appeared on Thrawn's lips for a moment. "Of course, give such an order. Vectors from third to eleventh. The distance will be just right for preparation by the time of fire contact. And report to the Crusader the deployment vectors. Captain I-Gor is probably already waiting for the opportunity to properly heat up the launchers, as well as the turbolaser barrels of his destroyer and the ships subordinate to him."
Judging by how young Skywalker's face stretched, he also understood the meaning of what was said.
The Alliance didn't make him a general for beautiful eyes.
He must understand something about military affairs.
If one believes the horror that appeared in his eyes, the young man understood that the end had come for the youngest general of the New Republic.
***
It's no surprise that Lieutenant Creb found the sought target near the flagship Star Destroyer.
A dozen X-wings with emblems characteristic of Rogue Squadron held near the Victory II, clearly forming an escort.
Not the slightest hint of transponder operation.
"Target detected," reported Lieutenant Creb, relaxing for a moment and accelerating his machine.
Eleven clicks in the commlink indicated confirmation.
A dozen TIE Avengers went on the attack, breaking through the firefight of enemy and friendly interceptors.
The enemy reacted almost instantly, but it was too late.
Two pairs of TIE Avengers rained laser cannon fire on two victims, opening the hunting season on the Rogues.
The well-familiar machine of the Rogue Squadron commander opened return fire, but didn't damage Creb, who mainly concentrated on evasion maneuvers. Moving in zigzags, rocking from side to side, he began axial rotation to confuse the enemies' targeting systems, without ceasing to fire at the latter.
The first minute of the battle ended with three destroyed enemies and two damages among his own.
Not critical—both machines in formation.
He saw how the missiles he launched smashed another X-wing flying toward him to pieces. The Alderaanian avoided the queue of cannons due to him, missed with return fire, but the next red streaks stitched the deflector field, instantly reducing its indicators to two-thirds of standard.
Not critical.
The wingman drove off the X-wing of Horn with fire, but he clearly didn't intend to give up.
Creb saw how he turned and rushed into a new attack. Behind him, strongly stretched, followed three more Rogues.
In piloting quality, they clearly уступали to Celchu and Horn—the movements of their machines are abrupt, but not devoid of filigree.
So not novices.
But not the level of the composition that Creb and Tia destroyed at Mustafar.
On the way, several thousand meters away, new marks appeared, gradually taking the shape of the rest of Rogue Squadron's machines. Slightly below, to those fighters that had just been attacked by Gray Squadron, joined those that had so far held in the lower hemisphere of the Admiral Ackbar.
Interceptors, A-wings.
It will be difficult.
"Black-Two, cover," ordered Creb, going into a dive.
The situation is not the best.
A-wings may not be the strongest fighters, but they are fast, agile, and dangerous.
Eight Rogues left and a dozen A-wings approaching.
Against twelve TIE Avengers.
In such layouts, even deflectors won't save.
But options are few.
The enemy uses the "pull apart" tactic, offering either to fight against one squadron, exposing the stern to the other, or to split pairs and then they will be shot one by one.
In any case, the Rogues realized a banal majority.
"Psh-psh-psh, Lieutenant Creb, how are things going?" sounded the well-familiar voice of the Corellian.
"And good day to you, Captain Horn," replied Creb, veering the machine aside from the A-wing's queue.
One of the concussion missiles caught up with the enemy and turned him into a fireball.
And at the same time, when two more A-wings perished, Black Wing suffered the first irreplaceable losses—Celchu and Horn finished off Eleven and Twelve.
"It seems your major is busy, so we decided to invite Pash Cracken, son of General Cracken, who died because of you, to the party," the Corellian continued broadcasting.
What's that got to do with it?
"And I thought this was a confrontation between our squadrons," Creb noted reasonably.
His heart began to beat a little faster—he talks too much, saturation is disrupted due to the imperfect life support system.
"This is a war between the Republic and the Empire," Horn cut off. "You will pay in full for all the killed. Oops, Creb, look, another one of your machines has ceased to exist."
The lieutenant noted on the panel the extinguished indicator of Black Two.
Another wingman lost irrevocably.
Creb waited until the A-wings flying toward him in a new pass approached close enough to be targeted, then launched a missile at them and went left. During this maneuver, he slightly turned on the axis, exposing the belly to those flying toward and the upper part of the fighter to those pursuing from behind.
The enemy didn't fail to take advantage of the situation and launched a proton torpedo.
The homing head reacted as it should—but it didn't help the A-wing when Creb went up in a candle.
"Corran!" Tycho Celchu's voice burst into the speakers. "Shooting at our own!"
Horn was silent, and Creb wasn't even going to guess what he was busy with.
His X-wing was still hanging on the tail of the Black Wing commander, and rare hits continued to devour the deflectors.
Missiles were running low, as were action options.
The battle had already gone beyond the confident defeat by the Admiral Ackbar's guns, and one could not expect Horn to fall behind.
He turned the confrontation into a personal one.
Well, let it be so.
For him.
Creb sharply pulled the stick away from himself, turning the "candle" into a dive.
The queue from Rogue-Nine passed by, not even scratching.
The computer didn't have time for the brevity of the moment when the ships were flying toward each other to react, and there was no effective launch of a concussion missile into Horn's canopy.
Actually, he didn't manage a similar maneuver either.
The balance of forces changed.
Only six Rogues and five A-wings left.
And seven blacks.
Against six clones of Creb acted ten enemy machines.
Then he saw smoke streaks—trails from missiles launched by enemies ahead.
Crebs in the surrounding space left only six. Now this figure included the "original."
But the com esc didn't remain in debt either.
The body experienced overloads, but he still managed to break away on turns and came up on the tail of the agile A-wing.
The homing missile corrected the absurdity of this ship's existence.
Nine enemies.
Another indicator blinked—a black perished.
Judging by the flashed machine of Celchu—his doing.
Only one missile left in the launcher, and it went to the nearest X-wing.
Another Rogue perished—the projectile tore the cockpit, flying into the canopy, and the machine fell apart, scattering into fragments.
Having looped, driving off the tail of his pilot the annoying New Republic interceptor, Creb rushed after Celchu, forcing him to stop pursuing another black.
The lieutenant fired three queues, draining the enemy's deflectors, but Celchu knew his machine virtuosically.
He bet that the deflectors would withstand cannon fire—and it cost the life of Creb's clone, whom Rogue-Leader was pursuing.
The scanners were dotted with marks of three surviving members of Black Wing squadron and six enemies.
A moment later, Creb received telemetry that the enemy ships—Star Cruisers—were under fire.
The Chimaera's OCC prescribed him to leave the current echelon due to the introduction of Dragons into action.
"Withdraw," Creb ordered the remaining pilots. "Lure the enemy onto yourselves."
No need to repeat twice.
If the Republicans buy it, they can be pulled further from the capital ships' firing sector and continue the battle.
They bought it.
One of the A-wings, using acceleration, broke forward, intending to destroy Black-Three.
The leader of the second pair maneuvered, breaking away, and Creb focused on shooting the pursuer with all barrels.
At the same moment, the proton torpedo launched by Corran Horn smashed Black-Four, who distracted the remaining Rogues onto himself.
The cockpit of the fighter pursuing Black-Three caught fire, and the interceptor, emitting clouds of gray smoke, began to slowly spiral.
Thanks to the lieutenant's fire, the enemy exploded spectacularly, turning into a white-red ball, and this spectacle could be called truly magnificent if one forgot that its price is a human life.
Now only two of them left.
Against five.
Two Rogues and three A-wings.
"Close formation," Creb ordered his wingman.
A quick glance at the scanners assessed the position.
No help to expect—allies are far, and no chance to hold until their arrival.
Only one way out—fight.
Creb with wingman went into a somersault over the right planes, with a simultaneous turn toward the three A-wings.
Two little ships perished in the flame of shots at the first salvo.
The machine of the squadron commander, apparently—that very Pash Cracken—Creb managed only to soot with cannon fire.
Unfortunately, neither he nor his new wingman had the opportunity to attack the enemy with missiles—due to their absence.
One on one with the Rogues, the Crebs would win. And the enemy did right to insure.
The warning system worked, and the lieutenant veered the machine aside, but the proton torpedo continued to follow him.
Relentlessly and threateningly approaching.
"This is the last one, Lieutenant," reported the wingman.
Creb trusted his own clone—he also kept count of the missiles left with the enemies.
A laborious occupation, but the lieutenant didn't complain about memory.
"Disperse," he ordered, perfectly understanding that the wingman shouldn't suffer in the explosion.
Moreover, the second TIE Avenger constrained his maneuvers.
Because Creb intended to do the most idiotic thing he could think of to get rid of the proton torpedo.
He went onto the projection of the course of four Star Destroyers that were urging the enemy fleet from the stern.
Diving into the abyss of turbolaser and ion fire, he had extremely low chances of survival.
Actually, with the proton torpedo and Horn with Celchu on his tail—even less.
The lieutenant had already come to terms with the fact that in two out of three outcomes, death awaited him—either plasma from the guns would catch him, or the torpedo would destroy him.
Chances of survival are small.
He darted sideways like a scalded gizka, dodging both friendly and enemy shots.
Judging by the fact that he was still managing to survive—everything was being done correctly.
But the proton torpedo is almost here, almost close...
Creb veered the machine right, letting a green turbolaser flash pass over his machine.
Mentally counting the intervals between shots, convinced of their identity, timed it and rushed up a second after another flash flickered over him.
The explosion threw him forward onto the control panel.
It took a moment to realize that he still existed, and the TIE Avenger obeyed the control systems.
So not all is over yet.
But the aft deflector not only discharged but its projectors burned out.
The stern is defenseless, and only a miracle that Horn and Celchu didn't catch him.
However, by the absence of red beams nearby, he understood that something was clearly wrong here.
Dodging another flash of green turbolaser charge, Creb exited the destroyer's firing sector and instantly oriented himself.
The A-wing disappeared.
And the Rogues are enjoying chasing Black-Three.
Well, two can play this game.
"Black-Leader, this is Scythe-Leader," Major Bren's voice sounded in the helmet. "Do you need help."
The decision was made in the same second.
"No, sir," replied Creb.
"Continue executing the assigned task," Bren said through the noise of interference.
Out of the corner of his eye, the lieutenant noticed fire bouquets blooming where New Republic ships were.
Finding themselves in a new gravitational anomaly field deployed by Sentinel and Constrainer, Wedge Antilles' ships from the left flank came under fire from four Dragons.
But unlike the previous application, the Venators did not disable New Republic starships.
They only removed their deflectors, while the enemy fighters distracted by TIE Interceptors could do nothing against raids by TIE bombers covered by Corellian corvettes, and anti-ship missiles spewed by the six Victories that arrived from beyond the system.
Not to mention that dagger fire was being conducted from the port side by Star Destroyers and heavy cruisers.
Stopped by the gravitational anomaly of two Interdictors, the Victories and Dragons fired from a distance of fifty-five units.
From thirty-five units, the Star Destroyers fired.
And at this moment, the enemy could experience the full deadly power of the "twos," covered by deflectors that the enemy was no longer destined to remove before their demise.
Forced to fire both at the Victories and Venators, and at the destroyers, the Republicans, losing a Star Cruiser every minute of the battle, could not overcome the new fire sack they had fallen into.
The power of anti-ship missiles, which the Victories spewed from their launch shafts every thirty seconds, rotating in place and continuously launching them from all four sides of the destroyers' plane, is insurmountable.
One hundred twenty missiles every half minute rushed into the enemy fleet, causing pain and destruction.
The forward New Republic ships lost shields and experienced rocket fury, turning into shapeless hulks, torn apart so that only by a miracle could one recognize Mon Calamari starships in them.
Cover ships, falling under the hurricane fire of the "twos'" turbolasers, drifted with holed hulls, turning the battlefield into a ship graveyard.
The quartet of Star Destroyers that cut off the enemy from retreating to Sarapin's orbit, by now supported by two dozen heavy cruisers, represented an insurmountable barrier to retreat.
The New Republic ships—a dozen Star Cruisers and a single Victory II—tried to break out of the trap by turning right.
It was in this direction that Dominion ships were absent.
But this maneuver too turned out to be a trap.
The Dragons spewed ion fire, striking ships one after another.
This time they were immobilized, which meant only one thing—these ten MC80bs would be captured.
Like the flagship Victory.
Unlike the starships on the right flank, destroyed in full, on the left flank Grand Admiral Thrawn intended to capture trophies.
And when the targeting frame fixed the silhouette of the X-wing, Lieutenant Creb understood that nothing mattered anymore.
The four laser cannons of the TIE Avenger developed a rate of fire that literally turned the queues into two pairs of continuous laser beams.
Creb deactivated the deflectors and transferred all the power of his cannons to the lasers.
The fighter deflector of the Rogue Squadron commander lasted a second.
And after that, the green beams tore the left lower engine, causing the X-wing to skid right.
Creb with the icy calm of a professional continued to press the trigger, watching as the cannons opened the two right engines, scattered the right planes, and the uncontrollable little ship jerked out of the sights.
He felt nothing when he saw the death of Black-Three.
The lieutenant continued to destroy the machine of the legendary Alderaanian.
Tycho Celchu.
Commander of Rogue Squadron.
Hero of the New Republic.
Hero of the Rebel Alliance.
Ace pilot, with hundreds of downed pilots to his credit.
Once an Imperial pilot, student of Baron Fel himself.
The traitor's machine exploded in the usual orange ball of flame and debris.
For a moment, it seemed to Creb that he saw a green beam vaporize the body in the orange jumpsuit, but he understood that this couldn't be.
Just a figment of his imagination.
The next second, his TIE Avenger lost the right cannons and one of the right planes.
The machine spun, and only with the help of engine play did the lieutenant manage to stabilize in space.
In the process of rotation, he cut power to the destroyed cannons, thanking technician Alex for installing a buffer on his machine, thanks to which, like on X-wings, there was the possibility of pumping energy between engines, guns, and shields.
"This will cost you dearly, Creb," Horn said in the ether, poorly hiding his rage.
The stick was beaten by serious vibration, which meant disruption of the stabilizers and desynchronization of the engines.
Bad business.
The X-wing was coming in for a new attack.
And the lieutenant understood that they were so far from the main battlefield that, if Horn desired, he could freely get to the borders of the artificial gravity zone and escape.
The scanners already displayed marks of Jainer's squadron—they lost two, which is a very good option.
But, if Creb knew anything about Jainer's combat task, it was that he wasn't supposed to encounter a large number of enemies.
In a short time, they will be here.
And for some reason, not shooting.
Despite the damage, Creb didn't intend to give up, moving, albeit on a yawing course, and periodically nibbling at Horn's deflectors.
The latter surely also saw the approach of Gray Wing and performed simple mathematical calculations.
He has two engines damaged—consequences of flying near Celchu's death site.
And if so, he won't make it to the hyperspace jump point if he continues the hunt.
And even if he's ten times a Rogue and a Jedi, he can't handle ten TIE Avengers.
"An unusual dilemma, Jedi Horn, isn't it?" Grand Admiral Thrawn's voice appeared on the common frequency. "Finish off the wounded victim, or save yourself. I'm really curious what you will prefer. Especially given that I have proposals for you that you cannot refuse."
The switch clicked, and Creb stopped hearing anything—the Chimaera encrypted the frequency.
***
Captain Pellaeon momentarily distracted from studying the reports from his destroyer's decks to listen to what the Grand Admiral was discussing with some Rogue there.
"Go to the Hutts, Thrawn," Horn, judging by the long-range scanner data, tried to go on the attack, but at the cost of the right deflector and a short queue, Creb managed to drive him off. "Your little lieutenant will die soon."
Skywalker's face darkened.
"Amusing," replied the commander. "But Lieutenant Creb is a military pilot. I think he, like his colleagues, understands how changeable military fortune is. However, I consider it my duty to remind you that if you linger around his machine for another two minutes—you will be finished off by the TIE Avengers of Gray Wing squadron."
"But I'll avenge my comrades!" Horn growled.
"Commendable," Thrawn appreciated. "Stupid and unworthy of a military pilot, but commendable. Your impulsiveness suits me. I'm curious how much you want revenge now: enough to think logically, or not?"
"Stalling for time so your pilots arrive?" Horn asked mockingly. "I'm a Jedi, even they won't be competition for me."
"Maybe so, but I strongly doubt it," declared Thrawn. "I can assure you of one thing: if you don't direct your X-wing away from Lieutenant Creb's machine now, I will give the order for the execution of Jedi Skywalker, who is a couple of meters from me and with a feeling of pain beholds how your fleet and its crews turn into memories."
Several seconds of silence.
"Skywalker's fate doesn't touch me," declared Horn, but there was no longer that confidence in his voice.
"Oh, I don't doubt it," declared Thrawn. "But you see, Captain Horn, I have a bit more leverage on you besides one Jedi. For example, the last of your friends—General Antilles. Yes, he is already captured—you can admire how the Chimaera lands troops aboard the Admiral Ackbar. You know, after all, the 501st Legion stormtroopers are operating there, and they have no order to take prisoners..."
"But you will give it if I leave Creb alive, right?" Horn howled like a rancor.
He almost went on combat course but sharply changed direction, without opening fire.
"In my opinion, an interesting deal, isn't it? One life in exchange for many lives."
"We... don't bargain with terrorists," Horn said haltingly.
"Your right, but how am I connected to terrorism?" Thrawn was surprised.
"Because..."
"That was a rhetorical question, Jedi Horn," the Grand Admiral said in a strict tone. "You have long strayed from the path and ceased to be the person you wanted to appear. I hope you haven't forgotten that you deserted from the New Republic Defense Forces to save your father-in-law and wife?"
"I'll save them as soon as we finish you..."
"Or I can contact the place where they are held and order them thrown into space," Thrawn suggested an alternative. "Judging by the fact that you are busy with anything but searching for them, you have long ceased to care about their fate. Which is curious, but they continue to be interested in yours. True, Mr. Terrik increasingly wants to break everything he can on you. I won't say I condemn him for such intentions."
Horn's X-wing wagged and sharply turned toward the borders of the artificial gravity zone.
"What do you want from me?" Horn's voice sounded dull, and Gilad understood that the man was broken.
"You are a descendant of a Jedi lineage, Corran," said Thrawn. "As far as I know, your grandfather, Rostek Horn, is not your biological one—he was a friend of your biological grandfather, Nejaa Halcyon, a Corellian Jedi..."
Skywalker came to life, looking around as if trying to ask someone if what he heard was true. No, he knew it was so—according to Thrawn. But those who knew this little secret preferred to keep quiet.
Honestly, even Pellaeon didn't know where Thrawn was so well informed.
"Digging into my past?" Horn asked angrily.
"And who will forbid me to do that?" and here stand, think, was this question rhetorical. "But, back to the pressing. I let you go with one purpose—you go to your grandfather. Rostek Horn has data related to Jedi teachings. You will get these data for me, after which you will get back your wife and your father-in-law."
"And if I refuse?" asked Corran.
"Then you'll have to find other relatives," Thrawn replied laconically.
"And you kept saying you don't fight civilians," Corran smirked. "You hold them hostage! Simple people!"
"Leave your semantics, Horn," advised Thrawn. "Your wife and her father helped you and the Alliance in the fight against the Empire, receiving remuneration or for personal convictions. One way or another, but this, according to the Imperial laws by which the Dominion lives and which I adhere to, equates them to mercenaries. To bounty hunters, if it will be easier for you to perceive. They are not prisoners of war and not civilians. Their death won't even touch me."
"Just dare, Thrawn," declared Horn. "And you'll regret it!"
"Just as I regretted capturing them almost half a year ago?" clarified the Grand Admiral. "Let me remind you that you seem to be a loving husband..."
"Fine," said the Jedi. "I'll consider your..."
"One more thing," said Thrawn, receiving a data pad with a report from the hands of the watch chief.
Gilad thought about how many extra duties he could assign to this initiative lieutenant.
And whether he could at all—perhaps this is vitally important information that couldn't wait.
"Decided to change the terms of the agreement?" Horn smirked doomedly.
"You are right," declared Thrawn. "A message came to me from my people on the Lusankya. Agent Iella Wessiri is your close friend, isn't she?"
"You captured the Lusankya too?" Horn was stunned.
"Yes, somehow the week didn't go well for the New Republic Defense Forces," Thrawn simply replied. And on the bridge, the watch almost choked with laughter. Only Pellaeon's angry glance interrupted the nervous hysteria of the subordinates. Thrawn didn't even twitch an ear. "I have a different proposal for you. I will give you your girlfriend along with your wife, father-in-law, and all the other stipulated prisoners—Antilles and Skywalker—if you deliver me these data."
"If they exist, I was never told about such," warned Horn. "I think grandfather would have reported..."
"Just take an interest in his greenhouse," advised Thrawn. "That's all, Captain. You have already received the frequency for meeting with me."
A few seconds after the Grand Admiral disconnected, the mark of the last operating X-wing disappeared from the scanner screens.
But marks of several Acclamators with cargo of equipment necessary for repairing ships and turning Golan stations into those that can travel in hyperspace appeared.
"Escort Jedi Skywalker to his cell," ordered Thrawn, continuing to contemplate the battlefield where he destroyed another New Republic fleet.
Pellaeon had many questions for the commander, and he vowed to ask them at the next meeting.
And now he was just doing what he had to.
***
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