"S-1, give me what we've got on the Corvettes," Aaron said as the ship weaved through X-wings, closing on the enemy vessels.
"The Corvettes are running in pairs, each with an escort squadron. The closest is 1.5 kilometers out. They just passed 'Xindros' from port to starboard—currently dead ahead, 600 meters," the sensor officer reported as Aaron turned to the HoloTable.
The Arquitens was designed for patrol and hunting missions, with a megalight per hour (MGLT) rating of 75. The Corvettes had 81 MGLT. We need to slow them down.
"C-1, contact 'Xindros.' Request tractor beam assistance to slow the Corvettes," Aaron ordered.
"Yes, sir," came the quick reply.
"Full speed ahead—no slowing down, whatever happens," Aaron added, eyes sharp as gunners fired at the swarm of X-wings.
"Shield status?" Aaron asked.
"91% efficiency, sir," came the response—until the ship shuddered from a direct hit.
"88%, sir," O-2 reported. Aaron sighed; the shields wouldn't hold much longer under this fire.
"Sir, message from 'Xindros.' They've agreed to assist," the comms officer said as Aaron watched tractor beams from the Imperial Star Destroyer latch onto the lead and rear Corvettes.
It took three to four heavy tractor beams to stop an X-wing, and six to eight for a Corvette. Four beams locked on the lead Corvette, two on the rear. The others had caught X-wings, but those escaped.
"They've slowed to 40 MGLT for the lead and 60 for the rear," the sensor officer said. A grin spread across Aaron's face.
"G1 through 4, open fire on the lead Corvette. G5 and G7, target the rear," Aaron commanded. Only the front-facing heavy port and starboard turbolasers had a clear shot.
Suddenly, the lead Corvette spun to face them while the rear sped ahead.
"Blast—a suicide charge!" Aaron thought, shouting to his gunners.
"ALL GUNS, fire on that Corvette!" he yelled as the Corvette accelerated, energy diverted entirely to engines, halting its fire.
Despite the 400 meters between them and the overwhelming firepower facing it—four medium and four heavy quad turrets—the Corvette pushed forward.
"G9, switch to targeting missiles. Double pace!" Aaron ordered, then turned to comms.
"C-2, tell 'Xindros' to ignore the Corvette facing us. Prioritize the escaping one."
Aaron's gut twisted. The Corvettes' escort squadron had vanished into the fighter swarm. Did they abandon their charges? Rebels rarely left their comrades behind.
"S-1, scan for large X-wing clumps in the swarm. Notify me of the closest," he instructed, eyes back on the closing Corvette now less than 200 meters away and visibly damaged.
"Take evasive maneuvers," Aaron ordered the pilot. Turning to G9, "Are targeting missiles ready?"
The nod was quick.
The Corvette wasn't trying to ram—it fired concussion missiles at point-blank range.
"LOCK ON THOSE MISSILES! FIRE!" Aaron commanded.
The Corvette shifted shielding to 80% speed, 20% forward defense—enough to keep it alive for now.
"Detecting gravitational fluctuations. They're attempting hyperspace jump!" the sensor officer announced.
Aaron smiled faintly. "Trying to jump to deep space. Their only hope, but too late."
The targeting missiles slammed into the Corvette's concussion missiles. Aaron gave a simple command:
"Target their engines."
The Arquitens' ventral and side cannons fired heavy lasers onto the Corvette's exposed rear and dorsal shields, which had been sacrificed for speed.
The engines exploded first, triggering a chain reaction that split the Corvette in two before it died.
No time to rest—another alert sounded.
"Incoming squadron! Fifteen contacts, starboard!" the sensor officer shouted.
Aaron turned to see the X-wings diving beneath the Imperial Star Destroyer, aiming for the ventral hull.
Quick to react, Aaron ordered, "G1 through 9, ignore fighters. Focus on the Corvette!"
"Send Vice-Admiral Corr a message: 'Space Battle of Muunist, Anakin Skywalker,'" Aaron said with a smirk.
"Sir?"
"Just do it!" Aaron said, then leaned toward the pilot.
"Climb, max acceleration. Pass over 'Xindros' deck before the X-wings."
The pilot nodded, pushing the 'Hound' upward at a 70-degree climb as the X-wings closed in beneath.
"Divert shields to rear and ventral. Leave deck and forward shields down."
"Closing in—500 meters," the sensor officer said.
"We need 150 meters more. Might make it," the pilot said, as the ship climbed and gained speed.
"Roger," came a transmission from Vice-Admiral Corr, easing Aaron's mind.
"400… 300… 200… 100… Almost over it!" the pilot counted.
Shields took a beating, dropping to 70%, but then the impacts stopped as the ship passed over the ISD's deck.
All starboard guns—heavy, medium, close-range turbolasers—were trained on the incoming fighters. Twelve TIE Fighters surged to intercept the X-wings that dared follow.
"Turn 140 degrees forward, 30 degrees sideways. Aim at the Corvette. Leave the fighters to the TIEs," Aaron ordered.
Activating the ventral camera, Aaron watched the X-wings climb, only to be met by thirty turrets and twelve TIEs—decimation.
Five X-wings broke off, fleeing straight to escape the trap, pursued by TIEs.
"Status on the remaining Corvette?" Aaron asked.
"Shields at 30%. They patched one breach too fast," Luca replied.
"Luca, pick four targets on that Corvette. Spread ion missile fire to maximize shield damage," Aaron said.
Luca nodded, working quickly while gunners kept firing.
Aaron refocused on the HoloMap. Before his arrival, Corr had struggled against two Corvettes, but now one was immobilized. Corr had rallied pilots, pushing the Corvettes away.
X-wing numbers dropped from 36 to 15 but were reinforced back to 27. TIEs had suffered heavy losses, fewer than 30 remaining, barely hanging on.
Then a notification made Aaron smile.
"Inform Vice-Admiral Corr—the rebel capital ship's shields are down. We've won."
Cheers erupted, but the crew stayed sharp. The danger wasn't over yet.
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