605. The Heist - Trychon

Raezyr grimaced internally as he heard yet another blast ricochet off his shields. He glanced down at his monitor and saw that his shields were holding, if only for a short while longer. The frigate that was bearing down was making a quick pass at them, but was already angling away to protect itself with its shields down. [i]Cowards.[/i] He thought to himself.

"Dengar!" He called back towards the airlock. "How secure is that seal? We need to start making some moves here... I'm sick of being a squatting dewback!"

He didn't get an answer back for nearly a minute and was about to yell again when Dengar sat down next to him. "Alright boss, the seal is set. Nothing short of a direct hit or two will tear us apart before we're ready now."

"Good. Did you set up the electronic link?"

Dengar nodded. "They're working on the systems from over there though... they know what they're doing... it will be a few minutes before they have navigational control up though. Need Atmo first so they can get out of those suits and move around."

Raezyr opened up the customized program Trychon had made for him for this mission. The first button right there in front of him was to tie the main controls of the shuttle to his own controls. "I don't need their computers up and running... I just need to link their engines to fire with ours."

Dengar seemed surprised. "I thought Trychon was the computer guy."

"Yeah, but I know ships." He could have done it without Trychon's program actually... but this was quicker and easier. Also, he would need the program to ensure the shuttle was properly prepared in a few minutes anyway.

Without so much as a warning to the others, Raezyr pulled hard on his steering yoke, sending the two ships on a sharp twisting dive away from the frigate in tandem. After only one minute, they were clear of any major threats. The fighters and freighters were keeping the Republic fighters fairly busy, and Trychon was going toe to toe with the other capitol ship.

It shouldn't be much longer before they were ready to seal the hole and head out on their own, the Sith thought to himself. He briefly considered heading through the makeshift docking seal and speeding things up but thought better of it and simply commed through to get an update.

"Zanz here... we're working on it. They must have initiated some additional security prior to having the hull breach. They must have assumed we were going to board, whether or not they could have foreseen our method. We'll get it... we just don't know how long."

Taking his concentration off of the piloting controls for a moment, Raezyr shook his head, frustrated at thier lack of progress. He had to give it to Trychon though. It was unclear whether the difficulties they'd run into were secretly expected, or if his brother was just extremely thorough in his preparation... but he'd had a plan for this as well. After scrolling through some of the options he'd been given, he found the one he was looking for and hit the button.

The comm came alive again. "Hang on... something's happening." There was a slight pause. "We're in. Checking the systems now."

Raezyr growled when the comm remained silent for another minute. "AND?"

"We're golden. Send Dengar back to help seal up and we'll be good to go in roughly five. Alert the fleet... I'm headed back to meet up with Dengar."

Raezyr waved a hand to dismiss Dengar, and then started the other program his brother had told him he would need to.

Dengar stopped in the doorway. "What was that you just did?"

Raezyr turned, slightly surprised and perturbed at the question as well as the fact that he stopped to ask it. "It was.... Just a program to reset the IFF signal and that sort of thing. Don't worry about it... get your job done!"

The Mandalorian left without another word, but he left behind a distinct impression of disbelief and worry.

---------------------

Trychon acknowledged the message from his brother stating that the final phase was underway and would be completed within minutes. He held onto his captain's chair as the ship shook yet again. He was getting constant updates on his screen, and his crew seemed to take the cue that he didn't need them filling him in on every detail. They were working out very well for not having run this ship before, and working in unison with relative silence most of the time.

He loved the quiet. It was really allowing him to oversee the entire battle as well as what was happening with his ship. He couldn't keep from grinning as he watched closely, the indicators between his own ship and the Hammerhead it was locked in battle with.

It was cutting it very close. Their shields were at fifty percent and his were down to only thirty, but their shields were dropping more rapidly now. The ability to provide targets for the advanced computers on board and let them handle the precision was paying off, and his opponent was losing gun emplacements. They had already rolled once to bring more guns to bear, and couldn't really afford the maneuver again. They also couldn't do what he was about to do.

A few taps on his pad set a few alarms off on the bridge. Delki spoke up. "We've lost life support systems on ninety percent of the ship!"

"Correction." Trychon calmly pointed out. "I've diverted power to our shields. We aren't using those systems and if we have to sleep on the bridge tonight, so be it."

Either everyone agreed with his logic, or they knew better than to argue against it anyway. Everyone was on the bridge, there really [i]was[i] no reason to keep that and a few other systems running. He'd reduce the shields on the rest of the ship if they weren't protecting his guns as well. This was his last skifter in the deck... and it [i]should[/i] work to tip the end of the battle in his favor.

As he watched the numbers slowly reflect his hopes over the next several minutes, he nearly lost track of time.

"Command to all ships! We have a go! Everything is good, find a vector and get out of here."

Trychon waved all of his crew members to continue on as he just stared at his screen.

"Control 1! You need to come about. You can't win that battle, and the frigate is turning around to help finish you off. We have ships that need to be picked up. If you don't turn around this SECOND, I will kill you myself."

"Well, that wouldn't end well..." He nodded to his crew before hitting the comm button. "As ordered, Command."

He got up from his chair and walked over to the display to watch the Hammerhead that would have looked so good painted on his chair... slip away.

[i]Next time.[/i]

604. The Heist - Raezyr

Jester One rolled hard to port and banked back the other way so hard the inertial dampeners had a hard time compensating. He could feel the centrifugal force begin crushing him into the jumpseat for that brief moment. He could change the settings on those if he wished, but he actually liked those moments although they made it hard to breath sometimes. It kept him from getting too comfortable in the cockpit of his fighter.

Technically it wasn't his fighter. It still belonged to the Republic Galactic Fighter Corps, but he defected with it. Defected wasn't the right word, but it was the word he chose to use. Desertion made it sound like cowardice, and really it had taken a lot of guts to do what he did.

Jester pulled back hard on the stick and decelerated, bringing the fighter into a tight loop and dropping right in behind the two fighters on his tail. His first maneuver had effectively broken their missile lock and now the hunted became the hunter. The cross-hatch on his HUD view dropped neatly over the first target and he squeezed the trigger. Red darts lanced out and pierced the hull, turning the fighter into a ball of fire and slag. "Die, Republic scum," he mumbled to no one but himself.

Every ship he shot down was just one more little piece of payback for his family and friends. Years ago, his home system had decided they no longer wanted to be a part of the Republic. He had been a kid at the time, and hadn't paid attention to politics much. Next thing he knew the Galactic Republic was landing troops on his homeworld to "quell the insurrection."

He had been conscripted in the following occupation and sent to the Academy where he endured his time quietly until the time was right to defect. He knew he would be unable to return home, so instead he struck out on his own, taking small bits of revenge in his own way and sending the profits back home to his loved ones.

He'd spent many years doing just that when this opportunity came along. He had already been payed a hefty sum up front for this mission, as had anyone who signed on with their own ship, and there was the promise of much more if the mission was successful. He didn't expect to live through this mission, but it didn't really matter, he'd already sent his sign on bonus home, and should the mission prove successful his share should set his family for life.

Unfortunately things hadn't been going their way. The opposing fighter force had been double what was expected, and while Control had apparently implemented some sort of contingency plan that caused one of the hammer heads to go crazy, there was still an attack frigate bearing down on them.

The frigate wasn't as big as a hammerhead and they carried no fighters, but they were bristled with guns. Most fighter pilots would turn and run when forced to go against one, but Jester wasn't most fighter pilots.

His comm crackled to life, "Jester One, Mole. We're going to have company!"

"We copy you, Mole," the Jester replied. He had already been formulating a plan and they had one pass at best to complete it. "Two, Five, Six, form up on me. Target their shield generators. They should be located just behind the dorsal fin."

"Leader, this is Five, you want us to attack that thing?" the other pilot questioned.

"Just do as you're ordered and take your lead from me," the leader of the fighter pilots replied. He adjusted his targeting computer for the spot on the ship where he knew the generators were located and increased his throttle.

As expected, the frigate began firing everything they had at the four incoming fighters. It was heavy and a couple of times the laser beams splashed across his shields, causing them to momentarily light up, but he kept his fighter moving side to side, waggling his way in and none of the hits were direct enough to do more than superficial damage.

His small force wasn't so skilled, or nearly as lucky. All three were taken out quickly, emphasizing the reason most pilots dreaded these small attack capital ships. Jester pulled up and broke off his run. He needed at least two ships for this, or it would never be successful, and he doubted they'd get a second pass at this.

"Command, this is Jester Leader," he said, dialing in the command channel. "I need one more fighter over here, and right now, preferably the best one you have left. Otherwise you better get your big guns over here."

-------

"Jester Four, Command," came the call over Mannix' comm. "Your wing is gone and you're flying solo anyway, drop the sortie and form up on Jester One as fast as possible."

Mannix didn't question the order. He'd taken out four enemy fighters single handedly and led three more into the waiting cross-hairs of gunships and freighters. Now they were sending him over to support Raezyr and the rest of the insertion team.

He checked his scopes as he jammed the accelerator to full throttle. To his surprise, there was only one fighter over there standing in between Mole and the attack frigate. Something began to nag at the back of his mind. Something about fighters and attack frigates. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He dismissed the thought as a distraction and pulled into position on Jester Leader's wing.

----------

Jester Leader gave Jester Four the same orders he had given the others, and this time his wing man managed to stay in one piece. Jester loosed his torpedos. The struck home and weakened the shields. He watched his scopes as Four's torpedos closed in... and missed their mark.

"Sorry about that Leader, I'll hit it on the next pass," came a kid's voice over the comm.

"Forget it kid, there is no next run. They know our strategy now. They know we know where their generators are. They're not going to mess around with us and let us at it again," Jester replied, but he was also planning.

There was one shot left, but he had to turn back now in mid run. He began banking and was about to Order Four to stay close to the Mole, and protect it at all costs when he noticed Jester Four was already making the same turn he was. In fact he must have started making the turn sooner because Four was already ahead of him.

"Four, what are you doing? You're going to get yourself killed!" Jester yelled at the kid.

"I'm going back to finish the job," came the reply.

Jester swore under his breath and pulled back hard on the stick and jammed the throttle forward, and felt himself being crushed into his jumpseat as he tried to catch the young pilot. "I suppose it's not going to do any good to order you out, is it?"

"Nope, sorry One," Jester Four said flatly.

The older pilot smiled to himself and for the moment regretted his decision to not get to know any of the other pilots before the mission started. He figured there'd be enough time for that if he survived this mission, but this kid reminded him of himself when he was younger: eager, daring, and a feeling of invincibility... with a touch of stupidity thrown in for good measure.

His ultra fast turn had taken him wide, and while his own fighter was faster, it was still taking some time to catch up. Suddenly his scoped lit up with new blips: the frigate had just launched numerous torpedoes and missiles at Jester Four.

"Four, this is One, break off!"

"Negative, One. This is my screw up, and I'm going to fix it." The kid said with a note of determination in his voice.

Jester watched as the missiles were closing in on their target, and noticed the frigate had launched a second salvo aimed at him as well. By his calculations, neither of them were going to be close enough to get accurate shots on their target generator before both ships were vaporized.

It suddenly dawned on Jester what the only clear course of action was, and he altered his course just slightly.

-------------

Raezyr watched the scopes intently as the fate of his own part of this mission rested heavily on those two remaining fighters. He knew Mannix was one of them, and as much as he had hoped that the kid would live through this, it was quite apparent that this was it for the kid. All that was left was the hope that he'd finish taking those generators out before he died.

Suddenly he noticed Jester One change his vector. He was no longer headed to make second pass as was Mannix, but had taken a trajectory which would put him on a collision course with Mannix. The Sith reached for the comm, about to warn the young Taxl monk and then looked more closely at the screen. "What in the name of the Sith is he doing?" he whispered to himself.

Suddenly Jester One's spacecraft swooped in on Mannix' tail. He held that position for the briefest of moments, then veered away. As if by magic, the torpedoes turned and followed their new target. Three seconds later, they connected.

-------

Mannix loosed two more torpedoes, and this time they connected. The explosion rocked the frigate and it's shields glowed briefly before coming down. He was still in shock and awe of what had just happened. Moments ago he had prepared himself to fire as he took his last breath, and now the defenseless frigate was veering off.

Although it was still going to pass near the Jet Razor, and most likely attack in passing, it was no longer on a direct attack route. His job now was was to harass and harry the frigate, doing as much damage as he could.

Later there would be plenty of time to think about Jester.

603. The Heist - Raezyr and Trychon

The wookie sitting in the co-pilot's chair on board the Muurian Interstellar light frieghter let out a long wail.

"Rub it in will ya?" the human female in the captain's chair replied sarcastically. Jahayne Kryll, captain of the Wayward Damsel, had already decided that signing on with Dianna Kingsdoom had been a fool-hardy thing to do. She didn't need Ryykarro giving her the, "I told you so," speech right in the middle of a battle.

Ryyki had been opposed to signing on from the start. He always had been able to smell trouble from a parsec away. The problem was that the Ibarrian carrot dangling at the end of her nose had been too much to pass up. She should have listened to the big, hairy wookie but it was too late now.

Ryykarro growled at Jahayne.

"I get it, okay? Just lock in the axillary power and angle that rear deflector screen. I don't think I've ever seen this many fighters before... not when they were shooting at me, at least!" Jahayne said, trying to change the subject to the matter at hand.

She had met Dianna a few times in the past and liked and admired her. Secretly, she sort of aspired to be her, to own and run her own operation, but things had never gone quite like she had planned. Unexpected repairs to her ship or falling prices at the wrong time had cut into her profit margins, meaning that instead of making some real money, all she ended up doing was covering her expenses and just getting by.

She had two things going for her though: her ship, and her best friend and co-pilot, Ryyki. While she sometimes cursed the ship for breaking down on her, she owned it free and clear and it was more than most people in her position can say.

The sound of a crash somewhere in the back of the ship brought her out of her momentary reverie. My life's not flashing before my eyes just yet... she thought to herself as she yelled unnecessarily at the Wookiee sitting next to her. "What was that? Oh forget it... I know you don't know either."

Her ship was one of the few freighters in the whole group that was fast enough to even think about venturing into a dogfight with republic starfighters. There was two others that had that duty. They hadn't been fast enough after all.

She managed to make it out of the the dangerous zone with another fighter chalked up to her score. That made five, which if she was in a regular military, would mark her as an ace. She didn't feel the accolade should really matter anyway, as she had the so called luxury of pulling out of the firefight and waiting for an opportunity to attempt a strike. She felt for the fighter pilots who had to stick it out in the middle of the fray. They must have nerves of steel. "Alright buddy, lets hang here just long enough for you to check out the engine. Go!"

She watched over the battle closely while she tried to ignore the sounds of equipment and parts being tossed in the engine room mixed with her first mate's howling. She cursed silently as she saw an opportunity to take off after a target, but was unable until Ryykarro came and strapped in.

It wasn't long before he did, informing her with a few quick grunts that it was their motivator. "Oh well, at least it's not something we'll need until we're ready to get out of here." She replied, hoping that the loss of fighters would at least mean that they could get a birth on the capital ship Dianna called 'The Stalker.'

They got back closer to the action. The hardest part about the tactic they had been instructed to use was deciding just how close to get to the sortie. Small, one-man fighters twisted and rolled in a relatively small area, locked in a deadly dance, while the freighters cruised around the edges, picking targets of opportunity like Dobvarian wolves circling a herd of styrrians.

The point was to provide support for the fighters yet not send the larger, less-maneuverable ships directly against the smaller, faster ships. Their own forces would assist in this tactic by leading any pursuit they couldn't shake out to the freighters and into their line of fire.

Rykkarro pointed to the sensor screen and grunted. The two watched as three Republic craft were being led in their direction.

"Oh boy, fresh meat. Let's get ready, Rykki," Jahayne said to her wookie companion. She could worry about the non-functioning motivator later.

"Get ready to give me full power... wait for it... NOW!" she yelled and the hairy co-pilot flipped several switches on the console in front of him.

Suddenly the third of the three Republic fighters veered off-course and away from pursuit of the Jester unit who was leading the targets in. Jahayne knew she should break course as well, but that fighter wouldn't be leading them out here if he didn't need help.

Rykkarro must have been reading her mind and let her know he thought it was a bad idea. "I know what I'm doing. If that third target begins to head this way, shift some power to the aft screens," she ordered. She sure hoped she really did know what she was doing.

Jahayne pulled the Wayward Damsel in behind her new targets and immediately started her auto-guns firing. Her targeting computer had received an upgrade and had so far performed remarkably well on auto-fire.

The wookie gave a long howl, and Jahayne looked at the screen. Just as she had dreaded, that third fighter had turned and come back. It had just been waiting for her to commit to her action on the other two Republic fighters. "Damn it! Shunt some power to the aft gun and..."

Her voice trailed off as warning alarms began sounding all over the cockpit of the small freighter. They were target-lock warnings.

A more agile ship might be able to evade the missiles or break the lock, and a bigger ship might be able to take the hits, but her own ship was neither large nor agile.

"Switch all power to the rear deflector screens and angle those babies to 45 degrees!" Jahayne yelled although she needn't have bothered as her friend was already doing it. She watched as two dots streaked across her screen toward the dot that represented the Damsel. They had at best 2 minutes until impact.

She looked over at the best friend she'd ever known. "We can't take both hits, Rykki."

-----------------

Dianna Kingsdoom watched the battle from the monitors on the bridge of her own ship. She was concentrating most of her firepower onto that second hammer-head, but she getting constant updates on all aspects from her well trained bridge crew.

"Captain, we just lost another freighter," said one of the crewman.

"Which one?"

"The Wayward Damsel, ma'am."

She said nothing for a moment. "Keep concentrating all your firing on that second hammer-head." She hadn't known Jahayne Kryll or Rykkarro very well, but she had liked them anyway and had been excited when they signed on. She had hoped they'd be a big asset, not only on this mission but in the future as well.

The losses were beginning to pile up fast. She opened the private link to the Jet Razor. "Raez, we can't do this much longer. We're losing too many people," she said quietly so her crew couldn't overhear.

"Babe," came the whispered reply, "I know that. We're trying to hurry over here, but to make matters worse, I've got that frigate bearing down on me..."

602. The Heist - Trychon

Earlier...

Dianna sat quietly in her chair aboard the Icy Steed awaiting their exit from hyperspace. She desperately wanted to give them all another speech to encourage them... or remind them that the group's safety had to come above all else, but she had already gone over most of that with them already. She hadn't pushed the latter point on them too hard despite Zanz's requests for a few reasons. Mainly because they were still pirates on a risky mission and that mindset wasn't necessarily conducive to a higher survival rate, but also because the group would be in dire straights if they walked away from this without the payoff, as she'd confided her lover the previous night.

Zanz told her that if the situation looked impossible, it probably was. He didn't leave her alone until she promised to withdraw if it seemed that way. She finally made him the promise, but she kept to herself that her view of impossible was likely a bit different. She would seldom disagree with her second in command about such a vital issue, but they needed this to work that badly.

As the lines of hyperspace receded she watched in silence, prepared to make any commands necessary. Her crew was accustomed to making their own adjustments, leaving her to concentrate on the scope of the mission as a whole. It wasn't long before the shuttle appeared and Raezyr set after it, calling for the attack group to follow suit. She crossed her fingers that the support for the shuttle would be delayed, even for a handful of minutes.

It wasn't to be the case though, as the Unity appeared moments later, and with another Hammerhead and a frigate in tow. She closed her eyes and fought with herself for only seconds. She looked up to see her entire bridge staring at her. She keyed her comm after letting out a heartfelt sigh. "Command to Control 1 and Mole 1. This mission is a scratch. We can't do this. Huttspit! Let's show them our hyperdrives and meet up elsewhere."

She watched her sensor panel as her small fleet began to execute her command, save two. The Jet Razor remained on the attack, and the Sith Stalker remained where it was. She stared at the screen in disbelief. Zanz had been right... the two Sith were suicidal in their goals.

She was about to reiterate the command when the Stalker responded. "Control 1 to Command - Sorry about the delay. This was certainly unexpected and less than optimal, but it was always a possibility. We have contingencies."

-------

Dianna breathed a sigh of short lived relief. It was all she had time for, as there was too much to do. The mole team had managed to breach the hull of their target, but the Republic's attack frigate was bearing in on them. The fighters were holding their own thanks to the unexpected support of the freighters, but they were on their own for now, as support fire was as dangerous as it was helpful in the middle of a dogfight.

She was about to order the freighters in to support the mole team and the Stalker, when the hammerhead Trychon had referred to as 'The Unity' began to launch its remaining fighters. Wampa meat. She thought to herself. She wouldn't admit it to his face, but thanks to whatever it was Trychon had done, they had been doing really well considering the unexpected odds. That was at an end now, it seemed.

"Command to all freighter support - We have more incoming fighters. Take out as many as you can before they get into the dogfight. After they're in the heat of it, break off and coordinate with Mole 1 and Control 1 to take on the big boys. We'll need all the help we can get!" She got up from her chair and began pacing.

"Alright guys... we need to go in and put ourselves in between that frigate and our aurodium. Don't worry for now about getting in position for targets of value... the fighter support is doing that. We need to keep the shuttle in one piece at all costs!" Not to mention the Jet Razor. She couldn't let her emotions get in the way of her command, but she also couldn't be positive that wasn't exactly what she was doing now.

It didn't take long before they were getting hammered for being an extra shield for the shuttle and the Jet Razor. She sat back down and pounded the comm. She was probably going to need her control panel repaired before this was all over. "Command to insertion team - I don't mean to push, but we need to hurry up a bit here!"

Almost as if on cue, alarms started to blare that The Unity was nearing firing range. They only had a minute or two left before they were all in very big trouble.

She didn't expect what happened next. Trychon's voice came over the comm, to nobody in particular that she could figure out. "Come on... Come ON!"

She was about to ask him to clarify when his pleas were answered. "Captain..." A voice spoke from somewhere over by the weapon controls. "The hammerhead... the one closing in... just shut down entirely. I can't explain it."

"Maybe when we're done here, we can get an explanation. For now, thank the Force or whatever you believe in... and make another run on that frigate." She looked down at her instruments and held herself back from taking and holding a deep breath. "Take us through their firing path one last time."

601. The Heist - Trychon

Spickolly worked diligently at his multiple consoles. A 'vibrojack' as he referred it was a malignant slicer program that took complete control of a system. He'd never heard or dealt with one that took control of an entire Republic ship before, but there were certain advantages that it presented him. The main functionality of this ship or any one like it in the Republic was preserved on a hard-coded computer core, which could not be altered. The Captain's codes were among the few preserved functions of the ship.

Using it, he would be able to shut the system down entirely and reinitialize it with only the core functions active. It would limit the ship's higher functions, including all major computer aided activities such as targeting and aided piloting, but it was better than the situation as it was. He chuckled to himself, knowing that the Captain didn't have to give him his code. He'd figured it out some time ago, but he didn't intend to let on to that.

He took a deep breath and initiated the shut down. He watched carefully as code crossed his screen to make sure that things went as he'd planned them. Nothing seemed amiss though, as it shouldn't. Within a minute, the ship was regaining power and core functionality.

He keyed his comm and got ahold of the Captain. "Heh. Alright, man... you're all set. You have to do without much computer power, but at least you're not blastin' your friends no more, am I right? Huhuh."

Spickolly heard the Moklam's taking a slow breath on the other side of the comm connection. The Captain often did that when he was trying to control his temper, and Spickolly had noticed it often. "No, Mr. Spickolly... that really isn't enough. I appreciate the fact that I am no longer going to be court martialed for destroying allied ships, however I'm likely to receive the same end if we're unable to effectively stop this madness that's going on right in front of me. We need our computers. Do you understand? Did you find the problem? I need you to remove it and get my ship working!"

The civilian slicer shook his head emphatically against the idea, despite the fact that nobody could see him do so. "Oh, heh, heh. I really don't recommend we do that, Mr. Captain. This program is like that other one... you know dude... the one we thought we'd zapped? It doesn't seem to follow any normal protocols, like the dude who made it taught himself how to cut programs from scratch. Heh heh. That's unreal. I can find the program and shut it off... but I don't want to just make it mad again."

Moklam's reply was short. He knew it had to be the Sith. That only made it that much more important that his ship get involved in the unfolding battle and quickly. "Do. Your. Job!"

Spickolly sighed. "Ok, dude. You're the bossman, bossman."

Using the information he'd pulled prior to resetting the computers on the vessel, he found the rogue program and cut in some gibberish code that should serve to break it and loop it on itself, hoping that it was a safer bet then trying to delete it entirely. After several minutes of this, satisfied that he'd given it his best effort, he began logging into the reboot again using the Captain's code.

His comm was beeping incessantly, with the Captain berating him for taking so long. He didn't feel like explaining that it was quicker the first time because he'd already entered the Captain's own overrides multiple times before contacting him, so he merely didn't answer.

When he was ready, he contacted the bridge and told them to prepare. He entered the codes one last time, and the system was online complete with targeting, sensors and all of its normal functions. Spickolly held his breath.

------------

On the bridge, Captain Moklam slammed his personal comm down, hopeful he was done with it for the day.

"All hands prepare to engage! Launch the remainder of our fighters for Hoth's sake, and communicate with the other ships to return to formation. We're done playing here! It's time to show those Sith bastards that the Republic is not to be trifled with!"

He surveyed the sensor data running across his personal screen. Their fighters had taken heavy losses with the support of the freighters in the enemy group. They still had a small numerical advantage, and the support was losing its effectiveness with the dogfight at full tilt. With the rest of the Unity's fighter support added, the advantage would be theirs once again.

He watched as the other ships went on after the largest enemy ship in attack formation, and ignored the incoming complaints from their respective Captains. He didn't blame them, but now was not the time. He took another deep breath as he continued to watch his orders executed. It was time to teach the Sith a lesson.

He could nearly feel the veins in his forehead returning to normal from their bulged state. He was going to take care of this problem once and for all. He didn't need the Jedi's help to rid the galaxy of this scum. They'd bit off more than they could chew this time.

Then he screamed as he watched his controls start to flicker again.