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POV: Dreams and Memories (III)

A voice from the past

By Michael Stauber

 

[Aboard the ISD Guardian]

History - Destilled Hear-Say.

     - Thomas Carlyle, The French Revolution

 

Bustling activity was always a common sight on the bridge of an Imperial Star Destroyer, even at unusual times of day. Or night, in this case. Lieutenant Commander Dahlgren, serving the Empire more than seven years was more than used to it by now, even though that he didn’t like the circumstances that had forced him to report in that late. Maybe it was because he didn’t like to be the messenger of bad news, because he knew of a lot of instances where superior officers had forgot about the wisdom that a messenger was just reporting the bad news and not responsible for them. With a solemn expression on his face, straightened back and firm step he approached Vice Admiral Garner, who was standing in a crowd of staff officers while paying close attention to the words of the ISD’s Captain. Lieutenant Commander Dahlgren waited until the Admiral had noticed his approach and gave him the sign to speak.

"Two Gunboat’s of Theta Squadron returned from their mission, reporting four casualties and that the mission has been a failure." Dahlgren thought about adding some details to the report, but decided against it as the Admiral’s expression darkened.

Vice Admiral Garner traded a quick glance with his Flag Lieutenant and then he smiled, much to Dahlgren’s surprise. "I see. Anything else?"

The Lieutenant Commander threw his brow in furrow, but then added: "They reported heavy opposition not only from the target itself, but also from half a dozen of A-Wing’s."

The Admiral’s casual and relaxed expression shifted towards uncertainty, as he turned around to consult the star chart.

"That’s quite unexpected, but we can accommodate for this inconvienice." He addressed the ISD’s Captain and added: "Send Reconnaissance Drones to Reconnoiter each and any sector between the coordinates 44-7 and 42-1. We have to find the base or ship from where this A-Wings operate. If we manage to take it out in a decisive strike, then we can continue with our mission as planned."

Lieutenant Commander Dahlgren took for granted that he was dismissed and with a relieved expression on his face he turned around and walked away to resume his duties.

 

 

[Aboard the Skipray Blastboat Millennia]

Two or three times I loved,
Before I knew your name or your face.
I loved you in a voice or in a candle's flame.
This is what Angels do to us and how
they teach us to adore.

                           - John Donne, Air and Angels

 

The cramped crew compartment just behind and under the cockpit of the Skipray Blastboat seemed to be a lot smaller with four people jammed into it, even though by specifications it was designed for five crew members. Vyper took another sip of his orange juice and reflected the last two hours that had taken place. He went through the short conversation again that he had with Sandra over the commlink and the looks that they had exchanged once his A-Wing had docked to the Blastboat. It had been just small talk, the exchange of pleasantries and curious looks, but nothing more than that. Right now she was plotting the course for their next hyperspace jump and had turned her back to him and Vyper noticed that for all the time that she had been doing so he had kept watching her. He used this moment to reflect his thoughts and to listen inward what his heart told him. At first he was surprised to find a lack of excitement. Yes, of course he was excited, but not as much as he had expected himself to be in face of this unexpected situation.

The last couple of years ever since had been very, very difficult for Vyper and it had taken him a long while to regain inner peace and emotional stability. And just when he had accomplished that and had come to terms with himself and was ready to move on, she had stormed back into his live like a refreshing spring-whirlwind. Ever since he had received her message he had felt that the dike’s that he had risen in protection of himself over all this years started to crack open more and more. While plugging his fingers into the opening holes he kept telling himself that it is foolish to go there again, but thoughts set aside and listening to his heart he knew what the answer was and always has been. For him. He didn’t know if that was true for her as well, though.

The Rebel pilot asked himself: "What will change now that we’ve met again?" and "What does she want me to do?"

He looked over to Dario, who was uncomfortably checking his surroundings and always kept one hand close to his sidearm, even though that neither Sandra nor the guy that she had introduced as Malcolm posed any threat. Dario hadn’t said much since he came aboard and Vyper appreciated it, even though his fellow pilot probably had more questions than even himself. Questions, that he had not yet gotten an answer for and probably wouldn’t get for the time being.

"What does she want me to do?", he asked himself again and then he remembered that they’ve been there before. Back then the answer had been: "Just be yourself".

And he was going to do just that.

He put his glass down on the small sideboard as the hyperdrive motivators of the Blastboat came to live and made the jump to lightspeed. Sandra returned to the crew compartment and threw her hair back with both hands before she sat down on one of the bunks.

"We’ve got two hours before we drop to sublight again and I think some explanations are in order."

She glanced over to Dario and then her comforting blue eyes rested on Vyper, who badly wanted a cigarette and gave in to this needs. While lighting it up he broke eye contact and then picked it up again, saying: "Yes, I think some explanations are badly in order. For all those years I thought you were dead, until you’ve sent me your message." He wanted to say more, but it didn’t seem to be the right time or place for that.

She sighed heavily and looked over to Dario again, who made preparations to rise to his feet. But then she shrugged and gestured him to stay. "What I say now should not go any further than this room. Michael, you take for granted that I once belonged to the Imperial Special Op’s, but that is not the entire story and what you know about me is also not the complete picture."

She swallowed hard and brushed some hairs out of her face before she looked him firmly into the eyes. "After graduation from the university I joined the Empire and worked my way up to the top, gathering vital information and insights and reporting them to my true superiors. I uncovered a vital operation that was threatening an important Alliance asset and I was able to put a stop on that. Unfortunately doing so blew my cover and I had to give up the legend that I had worked on so hard. My time in the Empire did run out before I had a chance to say good bye to you. It hasn’t been until very recently that I learned about your defection and now that I need your help I established contact again."

Dario looked from one to the other and noticed that his wingman looked deeply into the eyes of this beautiful, slender woman. Michael’s somewhat tense body language eased and it seemed that by looking into her eyes he had found what he had been looking for. And that troubled Dario more than anything else, because her last words were still ringing in his ears: "... now that I need your help ...". For Dario it looked like Vyper had overheard that sentence and given it another meaning, more to his liking. Finally Sandra smiled at Vyper and Dario knew, that if he had been subject of such a smile, then he would be lost as well.

Finally Dario coughed and said: "I don’t know what’s going on, but I’d like to offer my assistance as well. So what can we do for you, Ma’am?"

Sandra came over to the small table in the middle of the crew compartment and punched a few keys on a pad at the sides. The wooden surface slid open and revealed a small holographic projector, which came to live. Colored lights flared up and projected a three-dimensional star chart into the air above the table. The chart zoomed closer in they noticed several icons within, that had name tags assigned to them.

"We’re currently here, approximately four jumps from Imperial controlled territory, while this sector is firmly in the hands of the Rebel Alliance. A lot of jump anomalies, space nebulas and asteroid fields make it a difficult terrain for any prolonged space battle, because giant fleets could pass through this sectors for weeks without finding each other."

Dario and Vyper knew all this, because it had been part of their day to day duty in the last couple of weeks. They knew that the Empire had staged a lot of limited raids and probes into this territory and hadn’t it been for the intervention of White Squadron and others, they might have succeeded.

Then the map zoomed closer to the imperial border and even beyond it, into a region of space called The Twin Sun. Sandra pointed at this system and went on with her lecture.

"Alliance assets have revealed that the Empire has constructed a new Space Factory in this area and of course that raised our curiosity. A factory that close to the border is as much of a threat to us as it is a tempting target. The Empire knows this as well and recent Reconnaissance flights show very dense mine fields and strong fleet concentrations."

Dario interrupted her and asked: "How strong?"

"Two Imperial Class Star Destroyers, a dozen Frigates and Corvettes and several Cruisers and Carracks.", she added with a sigh and went on. "It’s more than sufficient for defense, so we estimate an upcoming offensive once they have gained more data about where to strike at."

Vyper shook his head and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I agree that it’s a threat and that they will most likely strike out soon, but I disagree about gathering data."

He shrugged and pointed at the holographic image. "They might not know our strength and where we have concentrated our forces, but Imperial doctrine in a case like this is: Threaten something the enemy values and he’ll come out and defend it. So I’m more than sure that they are going to strike a civilian target like the colony on Ga’jakobo or the mining complex at Shobashiri III."

Dario nodded slowly. "And if they’re using more than a token force for this task, then we both know that they’re going to succeed. Heck, even one ISD and a couple of Frigates is more than sufficient to wipe out our defenses over here."

Vyper smiled and looked up from the map projection. "Yes, but it’s not sufficient to defend the vast area of this sector once they have taken it. We fought against the odds before and we succeeded. We can pull it off again."

A laughter like crystal bells rang through the confinement of the Blastboat, as Sandra looked from one to the other. "Gimme break, guys. One Blastboat and two A-Wings against the Fleet of Vice Admiral Garner? I think I have a better idea."

Vyper smiled at her and then said: "Actually I was thinking about having the rest of White Squadron joining us in our cause, but OK, let’s hear your idea."

She walked slowly around the projection and pushed a button at the console. The map display folded together and the laser projection drew a new picture. It showed a massive, bulky cylinder with four central fins at the end and right beside it was a small window with technical data regarding this object.

"Ah, I doubt that we need further assistance. Take a look at this and tell me what you make out of it."

Vyper examined the cylinder and glanced over at the data readout. "Hmm ... looks like a modified space bomb to me. There is no size reference, so I don’t know how big it is. But the data says that it uses NoX-2000 instead of the usual Nomotexatrin explosive. That should increase the explosive power quite some."

Sandra nodded and pointed at the Space Bomb. "The range has degraded due to the added weight of the warhead, but tests have shown that the bomb is three times stronger than usual. The NoX-200 is pretty instable and once armed the explosives might go off too early or not at all, but we have four in stock and I intend to make good use of them."

The pilot from Iberya looked impressed. "One of this eggs should be enough to waste an ISD, provided that you get through the fighter cover. Not bad."

Sandra nodded with a smile on her face. "That’s right. But an ISD shouldn’t be our target of choice, right?"

Crossing his arms before his chest Vyper grinned and gave Sandra a thumbs up. "We’re going to spare Vice Admiral Garner the embarrassment and the cancel the offensive for him. And don’t worry, Dario and I will make sure that you can make your delivery without that much hassle."

"Oh-oh!", Dario said. "I smell trouble ..."

 

 

[ISD Guardian, inside the Twin Sun System]

To the fight and to the weapons I fly!

   - Richard Lovelace, To Lucasta, Going to the Wars

 

The darkly metal cylinder had a length of around 2 meters and a diameter of roughly 30 centimeters. It resembled an old shaped torpedo and was cramped into a narrow tube close to the hangar bay exit of the star destroyer. One end harbored a strong propulsion system of the same kind which was put into use by propelling TIE Fighters, while the other end was equipped with a vast amount of sophisticated scanners, sensor and communication arrays. Almost the entire hull was crafted out of solar receptors, which served in providing the cylinder with power to operate it’s drive and internal systems. And those internal systems just came to live. Bits and Bytes, consisting of a complete sets of orders and navigational data were downloaded into the small electronic brain inside the cylinder. For the first time since it had left it’s production plant the brain went alive and the small electronic brain sorted through this data, recognizing that it now would be known as Spyglass-653. As soon as it had learned that, the outer hatch opened and Spyglass-653 started it’s maiden flight, when it’s powerful propulsion system propelled it out of it’s launch tube.

Immediately a vast sensation in form of sensor input flooded the electronic brain and it began to analyze the data it was receiving. The data turned into blips, which arranged on a three dimensional chart and each blip quickly became a vector attached, as it’s current speed and course were recognized and logged. A quick sweep with the active sensors added even more information and soon Spyglass-653 matched the signatures of each blip with data from it’s memory, assigning blocks of additional information like ISD Guardian - IFF01 - B426 - C2FF - 23A2 - 05 to each of it, as it continued it’s flight towards the set destination.

Soon it reached it’s first waypoint and adjusted it’s course according to the assigned flight plan. After a last internal self check of all systems and after pre heating the hyperspace motivators Spyglass-653 entered another dimension and crossed a vast distance in a mere eyeblink.

As soon as it had entered hyperspace it returned from it. A similar sensation like the one it hat witnessed after launch overcame the small electronic brain of Spyglass-653, but when it discovered absolutely nothing in the close vicinity, then it couldn’t help but to feel disappointed, if not even bored.

Out of boredom Spyglass-653 activated it’s active sensor array, which had a by far greater range than the passive sensors, but also drained more energy and made it more likely that it would be detected by similar systems around, that Spyglass-653 didn’t know of by now. The wave of sensor energy assembled in the small emitter-array and raced outward and into all directions. Expanding with every kilometer that it traveled and losing in signal strength. Suddenly some of the emitted energy bounced off an uneven surface and was strayed back and reflected into all kind of different directions. Some of the signals even found their way back into the receptors of the passive sensor array of Spyglass-653. It took only milliseconds and Spyglass-653 had determined the size and relative position of this object and a quick second active scan completed the information by a whole deal. The databanks listed this craft as Frigate and so Spyglass-653 started to query the transponder of this ship with the proper code sequence. The information came in as "Alliance Frigate Joan d’Arc". At the same moment Spyglass-653 noticed a strong, bundled sweep of energy coming in from the direction of this target and it’s electronic brain registered that it had been detected by the active sensors of the Frigate, which activated a sub routine deep inside it’s memory core. All relevant data was transferred to an output device, where FRG Joan d’Arc - IFF00 - 773C - 25CB - 6301 - 07 was sent out with a scrambled narrow beam radio signal. Spyglass-653 very well noticed that the registered target was just barely inside the corner of the transmissions beam and that it would most likely receive the data as well, but no orders regarding this situation were stored within it’s brain, so it went ahead.

As soon as the transmission was out, Spyglass-653 initiated another pre heating of it's hyperspace motivators. Unfortunately a blinding, green bundle of photons lashed out from the Frigate and even before Spyglass-653 could recognize it as a laser bundle’s fiery greeting, it’s existence ended once and for all time. All that remained was a drifting cloud of molten fragments.

 

 

[Aboard the FRG Joan d’Arc, CIC]

Who challenges ... the
bottomless, endless Abbys?

         - John Milton, Paradise Lost

 

"We nailed it!", Lieutenant Fraser reported with enthusiasm and glanced from his weapons control station over to the targeting display.

Suddenly the Communications Officer over to Fraser’s left leaned forward and frantically worked the controls of his station. Without looking up he glanced over at the Commander Shok’wave, Lieutenant Commander Foxfire and Flight officer Torpedo, who had been following the entire event.

"Looks like the probe finished it’s transmission just in time and I dunno why, but we received it as well, sir. Decoding will take a long while, though."

Shok’wave’s face lit with a smile and she came over to the communications console. She looked at the data and then patted radioman Smithers on the back.

"I doubt that we need to decode the transmission. The fact that we received it, where it came from and where it went to says us all we need to know. Plot a course from the source of the transmission, align it with our present position and lengthen the plot outward until it reaches the next solar system."

Smithers did as ordered and transferred the information to the tactical display, which was located in the middle of the Combat Information Center and took up most of the space. Shok’s glanced over the map and studied it carefully.

"Now tell me what we know about this Twin Sun System and prepare for a relocation of the Joan. The Empire knows that we’re here and we’re not going to exploit that information on our expenses. Let’s make a small jump to get out of here first of all an then we’ll plot a course which brings us closer to this Twin Sun System, so that we can take a look."

"It rather seems to me that it’s the Empire who’s buying this time.", Foxfire said with a smile.

Torpedo scratched his chin and shrugged. "I think two can play this game. Let’s leave a probe of our own behind and see, how the Empire reacts to the news of us being here."

"Sounds fine with me." Shok’s said and eagerly awaited whatever their computer had to tell about this star system.

 

 

[Aboard the ISD Guardian, inside the Twin Sun System]

The Lion doesn't defend itself against traps,
and the Fox doesn't defend itself against wolves.

                       - Niccolo Marchiavelli, The Duke

 

Lieutenant Commander Dahlgren closed the zipper of his flightsuit all the way up before he stepped into the hangar bay. He nodded towards the two technicians who had readied his TIE Advanced and their thumbs up told him all he needed to know. Soon he and his flight of five had launched and left the massive structure of their mothership behind. They had to maneuver carefully, because a lot of traffic was going on around them. Six Frigates, twelve Corvettes and several bulk freighters were the biggest blips on their targeting display, along with the massive ISD Guardian and the Factory Station that the ISD hovered above.

Each capital ship had fighters on patrol and the uncounted shuttles and transport shuffling crew and equipment around didn’t make navigation easier, especially because a dense layer of minefields separated the space around the Factory into navigateable and hazardous, even deadly sectors.

Finally they reached their patrol sector and relieved another flight of five TIE Advanced, which returned to the ISD Guardian to catch some stand down time.

"Avenger Lead to Avenger flight. Assume patrol pattern Omega-5 and watch your sensors closely. I have the lead, Avenger 5 watches our rear.", Dahlgren radioed and heard the acknowledgment from his wingmen. He glanced over his instruments and prepared for another set of long and boring hours on patrol.

Suddenly he received a broadcast over the main command circuit: "ISD Guardian to Perimeter Security, Flights Alpha, Avenger, Theta and Gamma. Resume patrol as ordered. Mission Control and Recovery transferred to ISD Huntsman. Guardian over and out."

Dahlgren stared at his Star Destroyer in disbelieve, as it’s massive hull swung around and slowly, but steadily picked up speed on an outbound course. Two minutes later it made it’s jump to hyperspace and abandoned him and his men, as well as his fellow pilots from the other flights. Their mothership apparently had some urgent business elsewhere. So urgent, that there hadn’t been time to recover all deployed fighters, leaving it under-strength for whatever mission was at hand. He couldn’t help but to wonder if he’d ever see the Guardian and his few belongings again, which had remained aboard.

With a curse on his lips he flipped his radio to the Huntsman’s flight control to reported in and to find out if they knew what was going on, but instead they served him off with a noncommittal "Huntsman to Avenger Lead. Resume patrol and stand by for further orders."

"Thanks guys! It’s glad to know that our work is appreciated!", Dahlgren thought and swallowed his anger.

 

 

[Aboard the Skipray Blastboat Millennia]

Separation is all, what we know about heaven.
And all we expect from hell.

- Emily Dickinson, My life closed twice before it's close.

 

"Docking clamp open, A-Wings clear for maneuvering.", Sandra said and released the transmit button of her radio.

Several meters behind her the two runaway A-Wings from White Squadron slowly dropped speed and drifted away from the Skipray Blastboat. Michael glanced over to Dario and gave him a thumbs up, as they both finished their in flight check and picked up speed and rejoined formation with the Millennia at her wing tips.

"I hate to be so picky and hard to convince.", Dario said over the open channel, as he studied his navigational data. "But you two are really sure that this will work?"

Michael chuckled and shook his head, before he replied. "Ah, my friend. A lot of things can go wrong and I don’t even want to know how old the data is, that we place all of our lives upon. For all what we know the two suns could be nova’s by now, a Star Destroyer could be right on top of our entry point or a shower of micro meteoroids could be somewhere in our flight path."

Sandra’s refreshing laughter could be heard over the comm, just before she added: "Or our last fight could have thrown our nav-computers out of sync, or a untightened screw could come off and result in a premature exit from hyperspace, or ..."

Dario groaned and threw his A-Wing into a barrel-roll.

"Stop it right there, you two! You have a nice way to reassure me, you know that?"

Sandra sighed for a moment and then she said: "You’re right. I’ve seen better plans like this go wrong, but we all know the risks and the gains. So are you in or out?"

"As if you have to ask!", Dario grumbled and looked over to Vyper’s A-Wing, who stayed dangerously close to the Blastboat’s wingtip.

 

Into the fray ... (C) DSC "Arachnoid" 1998

 

Michael didn’t reply to Sandra’s rhetorical question and indeed he knew that their plan was more than risky. Coming out of hyperspace well inside a star system, of which they had only questionable and outdated data was one thing. But coming out inside and on top of an suspected enemy formation of war ships more than tricky and a gamble which heavily relied upon the fail-save-mechanisms of their hyperdrive’s. If all went according to plan, then they should re-emerge from hyperspace just within missile range of the factory station and within two minutes they could jump back to safety. On the other hand Michael knew very well that no battle plan survived first contact with the enemy.

"Let’s pray to god that they don’t have an Interdictor!", he thought and checked his instruments for the last time.

 

 

[Aboard the FRG Joan d’Arc, Communications Facility]

The slings of death surrounded me,
and the pains of hell held me in their grasp.

                                    - Psalm 116.3

 

Stephen Psycho Proud set down his glass of cool aid and glanced over to Owen Stone, better known as Granite, as he frantically worked the keyboard. "You have nerves, you know?"

The Caldanian shrugged Psycho’s remark off easily and mumbled: "What the hell ... how much longer will it take anyway?"

Wiping sweat from his brow Psycho entered another line of instructions and hit the enter key. Finally the display on the screen changed and instead of "Connecting!" it showed the Imperial Crest in all it’s colorful might.

"Don’t rush me. We need to make sure nobody can follow our tracks and hacking into the main Imperial Database isn’t exactly a piece of cake. I can’t believe you managed to talk me into it! Shok’s will eat us alive if she finds out."

The Caldanian pilot chuckled and gnawed on a piece of bread. "If you don’t tell her, I won’t. And from what I’ve seen in the Alliance records we’re in deep shit anyway, so if Sherry bites our heads off, we’re probably in a much more favorite position."

The screen changed once again, this time showing the crest of the Imperial’s Intelligence Division, a contradiction in terms which forced a chuckle out of both pilots.

"OK, now let’s take a peek at Vyper’s Imperial record!", Granite urged.

Psycho looked at a small piece of paper where he had written Michael’s old Imperial Identification number down and entered it into one of the query fields. It took a few seconds until the screen changed.

"Strange, his record is noncommittal as a politicians promise. Just the basic stuff. Where he served, how long, combat engagements and stuff like that. It doesn’t even say that the contend is classified, but lists that there is a quite a nice reward on his head."

The Caldanian bowed over to Psycho and looked himself. "I see. Well, well, then let us check out the bitch. What was her name again?"

He tried hard to remember, but finally Psycho started hammering in her name all by himself. He almost never forgot any important detail. Now the screen filled itself with long columns of text and several images.

"Now that’s a pretty lass, don’t you think?", Granite asked as he admired one of Sandra’s pictures.

"Yepp, sure is!", Psycho mumbled, as he started reading. "And a deadly one, too!" He pointed at one of the columns. "Just look over here! She screwed around with the Empire and sold them out to the Alliance. She was a long time sleeper Agent!"

Granite nodded warily. "That confirms the information I found in the Alliance Databanks, but it looks once she changed affiliation they never trusted her fully again and that’s why she quit and started working as freelancer."

Psycho scratched the shadow on his chin and scrolled down a little bit more. Without looking up he said: "What I don’t get is how you can hope to survive in this kind of business without the powerful support of one of the two big players. Looks like neither the Alliance nor the Empire is at speaking terms with her. Oh, forget about that!", he exclaimed and stuck his finger at the screen.

"I guess that’s what you’ve been looking for, uh?", he said an looked over to Granite.

Granite was a slow reader, but it didn’t take him long until he nodded in approval.

"Don’t you just hate it when I’m right?", he mumbled. "She’s a bloody bounty hunter. Heck, she even got an advance for our Evil one, which means she’s quite good!"

Psycho started to get nervous and fumbled around with the keyboard.

"What? No, wait, this is interesting!", Granite said, continuing to read even more.

But Stephen’s worries increased as he peered over to the secondary monitor, which showed statistics and additional data about their current computer-interlink with half a dozen private, commercial and last but not least Imperial computer networks. The path they had taken to log into the Empire’s inner sanctum should confuse any spectators and delay any effort of tracing, but it was just make-shift, which would work once and for a short amount of time. And right now Psycho had the strange sensation that their time had just run out.

 

 

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