StarWars: Renegades -In The Name Of The Fallen

A Ballet Of Warships

Yela
Yela felt the Pride's docking clamps taking hold of the red Consular-class Corvette that she had hitched a ride on.

"Hard seal," one of the crew members announced. A second later the airlock opened. 

"Inform Foster I'm heading up to CIC," Yela ordered.

The last hour had been very hectic and she had blended out most of the mass mobilization. In fact, she had spent the flight up to the Pride in meditation. Her unborn child also hadn't appreciated the stress and had informed the Queen quite plainly of her displeasure with a few kicks.

Yela hurried through the massive warship, flanked by two two-hundred-pound Commandos.

Five minutes later the Queen passed the security in front of the CIC and stepped into the dimly lit room. Her husband, Boss, and Foster were standing in front of the plotting table, staring at the holographic projection of the star system.

"The Queen stands on deck," someone yelled and every one stood at attention for a moment.

"Same drill as with the King. Get back to work," Foster ordered sharply. 

Yela joined her husband who protectively wrapped an arm around her.

"Tell me something."

"We just met up with the Grace, the second, and the third fleet and are taking up defensive positions between two of the heavy orbital Battle Stations."

A glance at the hologram confirmed this. The Pride and Grace were hovering side by side and Alderaan's fleet of Dreadnoughts, Corvettes, Frigates and destroyers had taken up position around them. Another smaller fleet was waiting maybe two thousand miles away.

"New contact on long-range sensors. There is a fleet coming straight for us in Hyperspace," an officer reported. 

"Sound the general alert. Order the fleet to stand by. Squadrons one, two, and three are responsible for capital ship defense but remind them to stay out of our firing solution because we won't stop shooting. Squadrons four, five, and six are to join the bomber waves and provide cover. The entire second and third air wing are to stay in reserve. I want one of my Arc-170 Squadrons ready in my hangar for surgical strikes. Remind the bomber crews to aim for shield generators and command centers first. All gun batteries are to stand by for further orders. Firing control, stay in close contact with the Grace and the other capital ships," Nina ordered.

"So, what's the plan precisely?" Alexander asked. 

"Draw this fight out and batter them as much as possible. They know our fleet strength so they won't send anything small enough for us to win by the might of our guns. I will buy our ground forces as much time to prepare as possible and then jump out of the system before my fleet gets destroyed. Before I jump out I'll engage the Serenity protocol and if we're lucky I'll be able to return at a later point in time with reinforcements."

Alexander's eyes narrowed. "You're running!"

The short, chocolate skinned woman rounded on him, a dangerous sparkle in her eyes. "Your majesty. Let me remind you that up here I am responsible for millions of tons worth of warships. I won't throw away the lives of the men and women that serve under me for a political statement. I'll fight as long as I can and then retreat with my head held high. I might not be a tactical genius like your little brother but I am still a quite capable Naval commander. I spent most of my carrier serving under one of the most talented commanders in recorded history and have more combat experience than just about everyone else here. Now, if you think you can do a better job than me I'll happily stand down and hand my ship and command over to you. If not I suggest you shut up and let my do my fucking job."