The Enemy of my Enemy

2001 short story by Paul Squire

Thirty-seven years after Episode IV – A New Hope

 

 

I’d come to the Setnin Sector as a boy, my family fleeing the almost constant wars that troubled the Republic.  It was ironic that Setnin, cajoled into joining the New Republic, was now at war after decades of peace.  As I entered my middle life, another ‘empire’ threatened everything I held dear, and I had the very same concerns for my family as my parents had once felt for my siblings and I years before.

The Prime Lord’s war had been brutal and long drawn out.  I was ashamed to say that his forces lack of speed in conquering my adoptive sector had more to do with the logistics of supplying their small invasion force across their newly taken territory than with any fight the Setnin Defence Force had mustered.

As for the New Republic, now re-branded into the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances, a name that makes me sick… I won’t speak of them.  Even now, years after, the bitterness of their betrayal of their brothers in Setnin is still too sharp.

 

 

Five or so years into the war I’d been assigned to the staff of the renowned Mando Kerreet.  Mando had worked hard to be the voice of the non-affiliates on the Setnin Council, and even before I became his archivist I’d come to respect the man.  As the Ki-Ki threat had loomed he had been working hard behind the scenes of the paranoid world of Setnin politics to secure the safety of the non-affiliates he represented, and it was as a result of securing several mercenary contracts that I’d been brought on board.

   “Mercenaries are just businessmen, Serrano,” he’d tell me. “They just tend to talk less and do more.”

   “Nothing like politicians then?” would be my standard reply, and he’d snort in a half offended, half agreeing way.

His usually jovial mood had all but evaporated by the time we arrived on Histai.        “We’re losing this war,” he confided in me the day after we’d booked ourselves into one of the larger staterooms in the capital’s Red Star Hotel.  I knew he was right.  After a further two years of war almost half of the non-affiliated worlds within the Setnin Sector had been lost.  Some, like Glovatie had allied themselves with the Ki-Ki Empire, whilst others had been trampled underfoot by the unstoppable Ki-Ki legions.

   “Histai will be different,” he told me, his voice earnest. “It has to be.  If we lose Histai then that’s it.”

I remember disagreeing with him, but he was adamant.

   “Serrano,” he explained slowly. “It all comes down to politics in the end.  We’re on our own.  The Galactic Alliance can’t help us, the Setnin Council don’t want to.  Our only friends now are the mercenaries we pay to defend us, and their friendship does not come cheap.”

   “Histai isn’t the only rich system in the alliance.” I said, but Mando gave me that politely condescending smile of his.

   “It’s not just the money.” He’d explained.  “It’s the resources.  The only major shipyards available to us are here, in this system.  If we lose these we can’t refit our own forces or our mercenary contingent.  The nearest friendly port is outside the sector.”

   “Commodore?” I asked, referring to the colossal shipyards, dry docks, and orbital factories spread throughout that industrious system.

   “The Setnin Council wouldn’t allow it – even now, with the Ki-Ki threatening to devour them too.  Besides, Ocern Gabe would want to keep Commodore’s shipyards working solely for the S.D.F.  They’re going to need every ship they can lay their hands on.  Our needs don’t even come into it.”

   “And can we do it?  Can we hold Histai?” I’d asked.

Mando’s only reply was that smile of his.

I remember those days on Histai as being amongst the darkest in my long life.

 

 

In our third week I received a call from the head of the local administration.  Mando had been in council with his peers.  The local government had deferred to Mando’s authority, and he’d been chairing the Histai Council of War, with his colleague Kro Shush and the Noscage representative, Hens.

Two mercenary groups had units on station in the system, and had been training up the Histai Garrison, bolstering the defence force with their own units.  Mando was keen to see what progress had been made and had taken a system tour with the leader of the Durge’s Devils, a formidable woman called Glorn Josch.

That Minister Iklone brought the message to the Red Star hotel himself was enough to piqué my curiosity.

   “This,” he told me flanked by four burly soldiers of the 1st Histai Guards, “has come from one of our friends.  I shall say nothing of it, except that Kerreet will need to see this the moment he returns.”

After he’d left I instructed Heena to ‘stay sharp.’ The look on her beautiful blue Twi’lek face could be quite disarming, and she almost always took great exception when I suggested she was anything but sharp.  As much as her brash nature irritated me, she was very, very good at her job, and Mando had chosen well when he’d enlisted her as his bodyguard.

Whilst Heena busied herself with checking her electronics and bobby traps, I locked myself away in one of the small rooms in the suite that I’d claimed for my office, and examined the disc.

Though primarily a clerk, I’ve always been particularly proud of my computer and droid skills.  It didn’t take too long to discover that the friends Iklone had been talking about were from the Galactic Alliance.  Though this was a surprise to me, the data they’d sent left me sitting in my office stunned.

 

 

The double-tap of a com-unit being switched on and then off refocused my mind.  I was startled to see that it was mine, but it still took my sometimes-dim mind a few precious seconds to realise what it meant.  Without thinking I ejected the disc from my computer and pocketed it in the top pocket of my waistcoat as I hurried to the main hall of our suite.

One of our droids had welcomed in a Galactic Alliance officer.

Though Histai was an independent world, via an agreement with the Setnin Council, it had been duped into having a Galactic Alliance ship on permanent station.  Ditrinium was mined here and used in starship construction.  That the Galactic Alliance chose to protect it’s investment in the mineral though they’d so far failed to protect the Setnin Sector made them less than popular on Histai – or elsewhere within Setnin for that matter.

I’d caught the naval officer halfway through a heated conversation with Heena.  The officer, a female of a species I wasn’t familiar with, turned out to be a Commander Gynar, Captain of the warship Eternal Vigilance, recently assigned to the system to replace the Admiral Bothoa.

   “I couldn’t give a fetid Rorak’s arse who you are,” I heard Heena say in her usual polite manner. “You have no authority here, and less credibility. Now, assuming you’d like to prevent any ugliness, you’ll take your—“

   “Authority?” Though Commander Gynar spoke quietly, she had a way of projecting that seemed to cut straight through you.  I assumed at the time that this was what you’d expect from a captain of the Galactic Alliance navy.  Gynar was the first warship captain I’d met.  Years on, I now realise that it was just her very strong personality. “I have the full authority of Coruscant.  Information has been taken from the Galactic Alliance, and that information has been traced here.  I shall see that it is returned.  Now, stand aside.”

I felt the disc in my top pocket burn.  It was only my imagination, but I’ve never been one who can hide their guilt behind a solemn mask.  Mando had often told me it was the only thing stopping me from going into politics.

Heena on the other hand was a brazen as you like.  Only a complete personality transplant would have stood her any chance of a life on the Chamber floor.  She stood there, wrapped up in her form-hiding cloak, dwarfed by Gynar and the half-dozen Galactic Alliance Naval Troopers that accompanied her.

I couldn’t help but admire her, and having seen her in action twice before, couldn’t help but feel sorry for those from the Galactic Alliance.  They had no idea.

But then my world exploded in a storm of bellowing flame and lethal splinters as the room I’d been working in moments before was obliterated.

I’m sure that if it wasn’t for Heena’s lightening fast reactions I’d have lost more than my upper left arm that day.

To this day I don’t know whether it was the Republic or Ki-Ki agents that had bombed our suite.  I wouldn’t have put it past either – but I am sure that whoever carried out the attack was intent on destroying the disc I had absentmindedly placed in my pocket.

 

 

Mando visited me as soon as he heard, and came with two Durges Devil’s as escorts.  I was still having the artificial limb attached when he walked in on the surgery.  The surgical droid was complementing my species on their physiology and how much easier it was to graft my new limb than it would have been if I had been a member of the more numerous human population of Histai.  Mando made some derogatory comment about me and graft which I choose not to remember, but I could also see the concern hidden behind his smile.  I told him that such transparent displays of emotions wouldn’t do for a leading politician, and he gave me that same annoying smile of his.

   “Josch has loaned me some of her men,” he said, nodding to the two Devil’s taking up position outside my room’s door.

   “It wasn’t me they were after,” I said, and nodded towards a chair where my jacket and waistcoat had been placed.

A curious gleam appeared in Mando’s eyes as he looked at me.  He waited until the droid had finished its work and left us alone before retrieving the disc.

His raised eyebrows asked his unspoken question.

   “A present from your friends in the Galactic Alliance,” I told him, and then asked him one simple question in return. “How ready are the system’s defences?”

   “Why?”

   “Because Histai has been targeted by the Agrosiion Legion.  There’s a Ki-Ki invasion force on its way.”

 

 

Space travel has never really bothered me, but I certainly won’t volunteer for a ride in a dropship again.  I’ve seen warships, fighters, troop transports and suchlike on the Holovids, but even living in the middle of a sector war, up until that day I’d never really seen any of these kinds of things up close - except once.

When my family and I left the Core Worlds it was during a battle between forces of the Empire and the Republic.  I was old enough to remember, and young enough not to be scared.  A Mon Calamarian cruiser had stood up against a Star Destroyer.  There were spectacular flashes around these two behemoths that I later realised were exploding ships, but the battle was so far away that I couldn’t make out any detail.  By the time my stay in the Histai System was through I’d have experienced the full horror of starship combat.

But I get ahead of myself.

I’d never seen a dropship up close, but that is what transported us up and away from Histai to the system’s command ship, and it was the most uncomfortable ride of my life.  The co-pilot was still happily telling me of all the engagements (in full and bloody detail) he and the ship had been in as I emptied the contents of my stomach for a third time, but when I saw that view out the cockpit window all feelings of queasiness disappeared.

The dropship was part of a contingent of small craft from the Iron Claw’s warship Thunderer, and it was towards this frigate that we were headed.  I’d never been so close to a capital ship, and I don’t have the words to describe the majesty, the aura, of these magnificent vessels.

All too soon we were aboard, and hurried along to an emergency meeting by guards in khaki coloured combat armour.

 

 

There were over a dozen beings at the meeting, and I recognised only a few.  All were sat at a long very spartan looking table, and I couldn’t help but think that it was a very unimposing table for what would be a most important meeting.  Only slowly did it occur to me that we’d been led to the ship’s galley, where the officer’s dined. Apparently space aboard the warship was at a premium, and staterooms were seen as an unnecessary luxury.  Perhaps warships were only majestic when viewed from the outside? 

Apart from Mando and myself (Heena had been escorted to the non-com’s mess), I only recognised General Juyip of the Histai militia, Minister of Security Brodden, and a rather striking looking women in a dark red uniform.  The stylised Devil icon on her breast pocket led me to believe she was Glorn Josch – correctly so as it turned out.

   “I have been informed from a most reliable source that Histai is the next target in the Ki-Ki push,” stated Mando in his most brusque manner once everyone was settled.

   “How reliable?” questioned a small man dressed in non-descript greys and browns, who Mando informed me later was a high-ranking agent in the Histai secret service.

   “Reliable enough to believe them when they use the word Grogola.”

That caused a stir.

   “And you are certain of this?”

   “How can we be certain of anything,” replied Mando.  “The Ki-Ki fleet is pre-eminent.  They can strike with impunity anywhere they choose, and at any time.  But let us all be very clear about this.  Whether it’s next week or next month, Histai and its shipyards will be attacked.  Of that fact you can be certain.”

   “And given the prestige, General Grogola would be the most likely candidate,” agreed the Histai agent.

   “Then we work from your worst case scenario,” said Glorn Josch.  “We plan according to your source’s information.  Which is…?”

Mando actually smiled before he related his information, and it wasn’t at all reassuring.

   “We’d be facing the Agrosiion Legion; twenty warships, including four cruisers and forty fighter squadrons.  Plus twenty thousand troops and armour.”

There was a very telling silence in the galley, and then Minister Brodden turned to a man in a black and red-piped uniform, which I recognised as being that worn by mercenaries of the Iron Claw’s.

   “Captain, what is the combined strength of our defence force?”

   “Six warships, two weapons platforms, sixteen fighter squadrons, and 150,000 soldiers garrisoned across the system.”

There was another silence.

   “And your assessment?” prompted the minister.

   “Given the disparate strengths of the two forces, my assessment would be ‘grim’.”

   “By the stars,” exclaimed General Juyip.  “We have 150,000 men to their 20,000! How can you describe those odds as ‘grim’?”

   “That’s 150,000 men on the ground, General,” replied Glorn Josch.  “It might as well be just one hundred and fifty for all the good it will do you.  If Grogola gains space superiority and makes orbit your footsloggers won’t stand a chance.  He’ll pound them from orbit and take them apart at his leisure.  We win or lose this fight in space.”

   “And this is a fight you say we cannot win? We can’t just fallback and let Grogola march in uncontested!” started Brodden.

   “Don’t misunderstand me, sir,” replied the Iron Claw Captain.  “We can sow mines, attempt to lead their craft through them, attack his troop ships so he has too few troops to hold the system.  But be under no illusions, our frigates are outnumbered three to one.  He will have cruisers in his line of battle, enough to take our frigates apart by themselves.  He’ll have nearly 500 fighters and bombers to our 200.”

   “Plus,” added Josch, her voice cold and emotionless, “the Agrosiion Legion are veterans.  They’re well trained, very experienced, and have yet to be bested.”

   “What of the Eternal Vigilance?” asked another.

   “The Galactic Alliance cruiser?” snorted Mando. “At best, they’ll ensure that the Republic’s Rules of Engagement are followed.  At worst, they’ll go to lightspeed at the first sign of trouble.”  He gave me a quick look, and his eyes fell on my prosthetic arm.  “No, the Galactic Alliance can’t be trusted or relied upon.”

   “Gentlebeings” he continued, “we don’t have much time.  What we do have is knowledge of the battleground, and the determination to defend our homes.  We also have veterans of our own.” He nodded towards the two mercenaries present. “The odds may seem high, but we’re Setnin, and playing the odds is in our blood.  We’ll show Grogola and his legions what it means to face a real Setnin army”

 

 

The next few days were very busy.  Mando had me meeting with Glorn Josch and Raj Gillet, the Iron Claws captain, and I watched and made notes as they planned and re-planned the system’s defence.

Mine fields were sown, choice targets within the shipyards were designated as bait, and additional defences set-up to form a killing field.  The fighter pilots were given specific tasks, and the system was alive with the swarming of snub fighters as they practised and practised.

Work redoubled on the completion of ships in dry-dock, and the refitting of transports as fire ships, programmed to ram enemy warships and cause as much destruction as possible.

All the hard work helped keep the defender’s minds focused on the job at hand, but a sense of despair slowly started to seep back in.

Despite Mando’s rousing speeches, and his constant visits to the Iron Claws, Durge’s Devils and the Histai Defence Force, the enormity of the odds Histai was facing was being realised.

However, Mando remained optimistic, and managed to prevent the Histai government from issuing an evacuation notice.  When I asked him why, he just told me to be patient.  I’d known him long enough to know that he had something planned, and my suspicions were confirmed when Heena told me that Sevrina Maris had been sent on an errand.  Sevrina was a long in the tooth smuggler that had somehow fallen into the role of personal pilot for Mando just before I’d joined his team.  Both her and her ship, the Octron Disk, had left the Histai System, destination unknown.

 

 

Two days later two events boosted the morale of everyone in the system, and I was lucky enough to witness them both firsthand.

Early that morning I was on the bridge of the Thunderer when hyperspace footprints were detected.  Everyone’s nerves were on edge; the common assumption being that the Ki-Ki invasion force had finally arrived.  However, the reality was much happier.

A Trac-Tran Transit Company convoy had arrived in system.  Eight of the fastest bulk transports I’d seen, and something far grander.

Guarding these most important ships were three Iron Claw escorts, two frigates, and the pride of the Iron Claw fleet, the Star Destroyer Champion of Hellion.

To say I was speechless when seeing the Thunderer for the first time does little credit to that splendid warship.  What insult do I then do Hellion?

The Star Destroyer dwarfed everything near her.  Her engines alone were equal in size to the entire length of the Thunderer and her sister ships.  She was a monster, the like of which I’d seen only once before, and though decades old, she seemed magnificent to me.

 

 

The second event seemed inconsequential at first.

A couple of hours after the arrival of the Hellion, a Stock Heavy Freighter jumped in system.  Identifying herself as the Berone Sunrise, she headed directly for the Hellion.  At her helm was the owner of the Trac-Tran Transit Company, Jan Lomona, and as cargo she had but one passenger.

 

 

The short journey by shuttle from the Thunderer to the main docking bay on the Hellion was impressive.  A corvette could have easily fitted inside with room to spare.  What I saw was row after row of fighters, gunboats, and some stocky craft that I presumed to be large dropships.

We were greeted by a small detachment of Iron Claw troopers, dressed as on the Thunderer in khaki coloured armour, and armed with vicious looking blasters.  There were three men in the black and red-piped uniform worn by their officers, one of which was warmly greeted by Mando.

   “Ryath Centaur,” he said, shaking the mercenary’s hand. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Though I’d worked with the command staff of the Iron Claws, this was the first time I’d met their leader.  My first impressions were ‘white haired and stiff backed’ but by far his two most striking features were the scar he bore down the left side of his face and his chillingly cold ice-blue eyes.  The dossier I had on him was full of inconsistencies, but I knew that scar was a memento of a run-in with the fearsome Janos Executions years before.

Mando then introduced Heena and I, and though Centaur nodded courteously to us both, I detected a trace of distain.  Later I asked Heena whether she’d felt it, but she curtly told me I was being over sensitive.  However, Centaur was an ex-Imperial, and their xenophobia is well documented.  Whether my imagination of not, I noted a distinct lack of non-humans within the ranks of the Iron Claws, except for one species.  More so amongst his ground troops, there were a number of tall strongly built winged bipeds.  They were quite fearsome to behold.

 

 

Some warships do have grand staterooms, and the Hellion was one of them.

We attended another council of war, but unlike the first, there were only a handful of beings present. Centaur, Captain Gillet, and Glorn Josch made up the mercenary contingent; General Juyip represented Histai; and Mando spoke for the alliance of non-affiliated planets.  I took notes.

There were two other guests.  Jan Lomona and the man he’d brought across half the war-torn sector, the Setnin Council leader, Ocern Gabe.

 

 

The meeting started well.  Centaur was brought up to speed with the plans Gillet and Josch had made, and he nodded his agreement with their work.  I noted that Jan Lomona seemed particularly interested in the use of decoys amongst the shipyards orbiting Histai and he shared a knowing look with Councillor Gabe.

It wasn’t until some years later that I learnt that Ocern Gabe was using the Ditrinium mined from Histai for use in his own crucial warship construction plans, instead of stockpiling it for the Galactic Alliance.  It seems you can never trust your allies in politics.

There was a little frostiness towards Lomona’s questions from Josch.  Apparently the two had crossed swords some years before, and there was little trust between the two.

   “It may not be my place to say it,” commented Josch in her very measured tone, “but we’re talking about the defence of the key system in the non-affiliated alliance in front of a known smuggler and the one politician in the sector who could have backed the alliance against the Ki-Ki, but chose to cut us loose instead.  Is it just me, or are we being a little too open here?”

   “Ocern’s smuggling days are long behind him,” replied Lomona calmly, deliberately mistaking Josch’s comments about him.  “But if we’re dragging up the past, then there’s the irony of a pirate defending cargo haulers, or ex-Imperials –“

   “I take your point,” interrupted Gabe, replying to Josch and cutting across the tall A-desandian. “But politics isn’t so nearly black and white as you may think.”

   “Maybe it should be,” Josch retorted.  “Principles should be backed up by action.  You stand for something, when push comes to shove you prove it by deed.  Otherwise all your words are just rhetoric.”

Her fierce eyes bore into Ocern Gabe’s, and I was surprised to see him look away.  It struck me then how much weight that man’s responsibilities burdened him with.  Until that day I’d often thought how much better I could have managed events if I’d been the Setnin Council leader.  Now I’m just thankful that I’ve never been in such a position.

   “Perhaps you’re right,” began Gabe.  “No, I know you are.  The Setnin Sector has always been a strong sector, an independent sector, able to stand on its own two feet.  But now,” he said, looking straight at Mando, “our enemies have divided and almost conquered us.”

   “I take it that your Galactic Alliance still refuses to defend you then?” asked Mando dryly, but I could see his mind spinning away behind his eyes.  We all knew that the Galactic Alliances representative for the Setnin Sector didn’t just drop in unannounced to exchange pleasantries.

   “The S.D.F has been badly mauled, as you all know,” Gabe said straightforwardly.  He struck me as an unusual politician, and was certainly more direct than most, and in many ways not unlike Mando.  Maybe that’s why the two men had never felt quite comfortable with each other.  “But whilst the Ki-Ki forces have been concentrating on your non-affiliated worlds, we’ve been restocking and rearming.”

   “I’m glad the butchery has been of use to you,” retorted Mando dryly, but Gabe waved him down.

   “We have new warships, new fighters.  Our construction yards are more productive now than they’ve ever been, but you have something that we lack.”

   “Experience,” said Mando slowly, and then he nodded to himself. “You want us to join forces.”

I’m not sure whether it was the look in Mando Kerreet’s eyes, or the tone of his voice, but at that very moment I knew what he was about to say to Ocern Gabe’s offer of reconciliation.  If he’d been able to finish his sentence then the history of Setnin could have been very different, but then General Grogola and his Agrosiion Legion chose that moment to strike.

 

 

Klaxon alarms warbled through the Hellion, and Centaur was immediately on his feet.

   “Jan, see to the –“

   Councillor, got it.  Clear skies, Rai” finished Lomona for him, and ushered Ocern Gabe away.

   “You two know where you need to be,” Centaur instructed Gillet and Josch, and they bother nodded and left to join their ships.

Finally, the mercenary turned towards General Juyip. 

   “Sir,” he said formally, “I suggest you ready your ground troops.  I’d be grateful if you’d also see to the safety of Councillor Kerreet and his staff.”

   “Certainly,” began the General, but Mando cut him off.

   “I’d prefer to stay aboard,” he said simply, and at that moment I had to agree with him.  I certainly felt safer aboard a Star Destroyer than vulnerable down on the surface of Histai.  Mando’s reasons for staying couldn’t have been more different.

   “Understand Councillor, this matter is going to get very bloody.  I offer you no protection, and ample opportunity to die if you stay,” stated Centaur almost nonchalantly.  There was a disarming and very hungry look in his eyes.

   “I understand perfectly,” was all that Mando said.

 

 

A Star Destroyer’s so big it has its own centre of gravity.  Standing on the vast bridge with Mando and Heena, we all felt the heave of the mighty warship as it turned away from Histai and moved to engage the enemy fleet.

There was so much noise around me it was a wonder that anyone could concentrate on their tasks, but acknowledgments from the pits indicated that helm, weapons, shields, and flight bays all stood ready.  The bridge officer strode proudly to where Centaur stood gazing out at the stars, saluted, and relayed the readiness of the ship.  The whole scene was very surreal, and it had more of the old Imperial propaganda-vids about it than reality.

I still couldn’t help puffing out my chest just standing there though.

 

 

Orders were relayed to the other ships of the squadron, and a holo-display tracked our progress at the back of the bridge. It would seem that the enemy fleet was two hours away from Histai orbit, and it seemed strange that we’d have to wait so long before we’d find the range against the enemy. I was surprised how slowly the time passed.

After a while Mando started to ask Centaur questions regarding the strategies he was going to employ.

I was not reassured by his answers.

   “The minefields are spread across here,” indicated Centaur on his holo-display.  As you can see, the enemy fleet has jumped in here.  Even if they choose to attack the targets Gillet and Josch hoped they would we have two disadvantages.”

   “I can see they barely scrape the edge of the minefield,” commented Mando, “but what’s the second?”

   “By offering targets within the shipyards and orbital factories, we invite the enemy in amongst these facilities.”

   “But doesn’t that box them in?” replied Mando

   “It will restrict their manoeuvrability and offset their superior numbers somewhat, yes.  It also restricts our vision, allows them to get a greater percentage of troops on the ground, and they’ll have a great time blowing up the orbital docks.”

I could see Mando grinding his teeth. 

   “You mean this plan of ours is worthless?”

   “Don’t underestimate your generals,” smiled Centaur, and he patted Mando on the shoulder.  “You need to trust your experts.  Given what they had to play with, Josch’s and Gillet’s plan is bold and desperate, and exactly what I’d have done in their place.”

   “And your criticism of it?” countered Mando.

   “If you want to grind your enemy down, Councillor, you use your best anvil before selecting your hammer.”

As soon as I heard these words my blood ran cold.  I was only vaguely aware of Centaur’s next words.

   “And a Star Destroyer makes for an excellent anvil.”

 

 

A ship of the line, such as a cruiser, has four combat zones.  There’s the long engagement zone at extreme range, where only the luckiest shots hit the enemy.  Then there’s the kill zone, where the big guns of a cruiser are more accurate, whilst frigates and fighters still don’t have the range to return fire.  After that there’s the secondary zone, where a cruiser’s escorts set up a wall of fire to destroy any incoming gunboats or fighters.  Finally, up close and ugly, there’s the primary zone, where snub fighters turn the tables on the giants and target a warship’s vulnerable spots whilst avoiding its heavier fire arcs.

Traditional tactics call for a super-cruiser like the Hellion to have a screen of escorts and fighters to defend it whilst it pounds enemy cruisers down.  It would seem that the Iron Claws don’t bother with traditional tactics.

The whole ship shook as missiles and lasers exploded against its heavy shields and meters thick hull armour.  Alarms wailed and warning lights flashed.  I distinctly remember one voice cutting through the clamour saying ‘Bombers at green five, twenty.  Flight seven to intercept.’  I thought my life was ending.

We’d interposed the minefield between us and the Ki-Ki fleet, offering a tempting target whilst our eight frigates had remained close to the orbital docks and the weapon platforms.

Centaur had hoped that his actions would look more like brash heroics than cleverly planned tactics, and that’s certainly how some of the history books remember it.  Though it is Mando more than the Iron Claws that is remembered for that bravery, which is of course exactly how Mando wanted it.

Grogola had split his force.  Fully two cruisers, and six frigates bore down on the Hellion, and countless fighters sped towards us.

Centaur calmly informed us that the enemy no doubt planned to out manoeuvre and cripple us before providing a second wave of attack against the Histai defenders.  No doubt taking the opportunity to outflank them and destroy them in short order.

In response, Centaur had only launched two flights of fighters, and these buzzed close to the Star Destroyer, jealously guarding her from the rapidly approaching enemy.

Three waves of enemy fighters had been allowed into Hellion’s primary zone before Centaur finally ordered the minefield active.

By that time Grogola was committed, and a deadly swath was cut through his fighter screen.  The forward view screens flashed with colourful explosions as scores of fighters were destroyed; I’d never seen death look so beautiful.

The Ki-Ki cruisers and frigates fared better, but their firepower was now directed towards silencing the mines as quickly as possible instead of wearing down the shields of the Hellion.

I heard the order ‘Concentrate all firepower on the nearest frigate’ and remembered asking Heena why Centaur wasn’t trying to disable the cruisers instead.  I half expected one of her curt answers, but she just looked at me, shock and worry etched across her face as another explosion somewhere within the Star Destroyer shook the decking beneath our feet.

   “I wouldn’t worry too much about those cruisers, sirs,” one of the deck officers whispered behind me.  “The boss has something special planned for them.”  Then he smiled a cold smile, “assuming we survive that long.”

 

 

Whilst we were squaring up against half of Grogola’s fleet, Glorn Josch had brought her two frigates out to engage the 2nd squadron directed towards Histai.  It was a brave move as she faced two cruisers and eight frigates.  Taking the other flank were the six Iron Claw frigates, leaving the weapons platforms and a handful of fighters as the last line of defence.

This second battle started more cautiously than ours, with the opposing sides more evenly matched.  The initial shots traded came from the small one and two-man fighters than duelled in the no-man’s land between the squadrons.

I heard that Lomona joined in this battle, flying his Stock Heavy Freighter like a madman and drawing the dogfight towards the Galactic Alliance warship.  Rumour had it that Ocern Gabe manned the guns, but I doubt Lomona would have allowed the Setnin leader to have been exposed to that much danger.

 

 

We’d suffered another twenty minutes of battering from the swarming fighters as Grogola’s warships knocked a big enough hole in the minefield.  I have no idea how many fighters he lost that day, but every second brought the crimson star of another explosion.  By the time he was through the worst of it, the Hellion had scored crippling hits against one frigate, and left another burning in space.  It was over forty klick’s away, but I could still make out the flames as it belched burning oxygen and tumbled back into the unforgiving minefield.  Laser shots and concussion missiles continued to tear into the dying vessel from the nearby mines until they eventually tore the ship apart.

There was over a thousand men onboard that frigate.  To think that all their souls had been snuffed out in just one brief moment was something I find hard to grasp even now, so many years on.

I’d assumed that after such a mauling the Ki-Ki fleet would turn tail, but Grogola’s legion was worthy of its reputation, and they bore down on us.  The frigates closed the range to under twenty klicks, brawling range for warships, and the two cruisers were right behind them.

The Hellion was losing the initiative now.  With the enemy so close they were able to outflank the huge Star Destroyer, with a frigate manoeuvring into the dead zone behind the warship, and another working its way underneath, and clear of the formidable broadsides the Hellion could command.

Turbolasers pounded our vessel, and I could see the hull beneath the conning tower being torn apart as shot after shot pulverised us.

Centaur was shouting commands, but I couldn’t hear him above the din and roar of battle.  How his crew managed to concentrate on their tasks was beyond me; I was numb with terror.

Then the star field shifted away, and I felt my gut retch as Hellion turned tail as quickly as she could. 

Finally, it looked like we were breaking off, but it was too late.  With the enemy so close, there could be no escape.

 

 

Whilst Josch presented an easy target, the Iron Claw frigates darted in to engage the Ki-Ki frigates from their flank, and ran across the jaws of the two cruisers.  I heard that the enemy’s fire was steady and controlled, and they concentrated on the lead elements of the squadron.  The Warchild was badly raked from stem to stern, and the Thunderer took so many hits her starboard broadside was all but toothless. But Josch and Gillet had worked their magic well, and under escort from a swarm of interceptors, four pre-programmed fire ships broke through the enemy’s screen.

Two were obliterated under a storm of concentrated firepower, but battered and mauled, the other two completed their run and smashed into the lead cruiser.

I’m told that the sight was spectacular, and the force of the explosions physically turned the cruiser, opening up her bow to space.  Even then she continued to fire volley after volley from her turbolasers as she withdrew from combat.

 

 

Centaur strode up to me whilst the bridge shook as another barrage of fire lashed the Hellion.

   “You might need these,” he said to both Heena and I, as we stood there wide-eyed staring at him, and handed us a blaster pistol each.  “This close, there’s every chance the enemy will attempt to board us.”

I goggled at him. 

   “Is such a thing possible?” I asked, shocked at the thought.

   “Capture a ship like this?” replied Centaur so calmly I almost forgot we we’re in the battle of our lives.  “Damned straight.  I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity.” And then he winked at me and strode back towards the main bridge pit.

A second later a blinding flash made everyone on the bridge shield there eyes, and on the holomap I saw the image of another enemy frigate flicker and vanish.  It was the strangest thing to experience that blinding light, but not hear the explosion.

Despite the evening of the odds, we still faced two all but unscathed cruisers and three frigates, and the Hellion had taken a terrible pounding.

By now the remaining frigates had circled behind us, and they pushed their advantage by sending salvo after salvo of withering fire into our engines.  The two cruisers had manoeuvred themselves for optimum firing, and their broadsides pulverised the front of the Star Destroyer.  As their guns fully opened up, ours were destroyed one by one.

   “Third wing away,” came a voice from one of the bridge pits and Heena nudged me, directing my attention back to the holomap.  Lines of the dropships I’d seen earlier streaked away from the Hellion, with fighters buzzing close to them.  It was then that I realised that these weren’t dropships after all.  They were assault boats and they were headed right for the enemy cruisers.

   “Best form of defence,” nodded Heena besides me, and I frowned at her.  “Attack!”

   “Against those things?” I exclaimed.  “There’s got to be upwards of three thousand crew aboard those things.”

   “Maybe, but you know how many troops a ship like this can hold?” she asked me, and I shook my head. “About ten thousand.”

I don’t know how many troops Centaur actually had aboard that day, or how many assault boats he had, but I do know that the guns of the two cruisers fell silent about twenty minutes later, and not a second too soon.

 

 

The tables had finally turned for us, but as the three remaining Ki-Ki frigates made good their escape, pounded until hyperspace by an angry swarm of fighter/bombers from Hellion’s hangers, the situation at Histai had worsened.

By now Grogola had realised that he couldn’t take the system, and so he’d switched to his secondary objective.  His cruiser and remaining escorts pounded away at the orbital docks and the defenders equally, providing covering fire for the waves of fighters he sent in amongst the densely packed factories and warehouses floating above Histai.

It seemed that despite the heroic efforts of the defenders, that the Ki-Ki forces would still bring disaster to the alliance.  Until a warning shout from the sensor’s pit told us of more incoming ships.

   “Ten warships, sir,” an operator told Centaur. “At least four cruisers, and they’ve got Janos transponders!”

Mando rushed up to Centaur’s side, gripping the mercenary’s arm in his excitement.

   “Is there another ship there?” he asked hurriedly. 

   “There’s a stock light freighter,” confirmed the operator slowly.  “Transponders identify her as the Octron Disk.”

That look on Mando’s face is not one I’ll quickly forget.  To this day, I don’t know who he spoke to or how he did it, but somehow he’d managed to enlist the aid of the Janos warrior, Tannis Rixx.

With the arrival of the Janite squadron, the remaining Ki-Ki forces broke off their attack and made a run for the hyperspace.

Dogged as always, Glorn Josch managed to cripple another frigate before the remaining ships escaped.

 

 

The meeting aboard the Hellion was an altogether happier meeting than the last two I’d attended.

Again, there was a host of beings present, only a handful of which I recognised.  Sevrina was there of course, and she had such a smug grin on her face.  It was also the first time I’d seen her blush as Mando gave her the biggest hug.

The meeting was also memorable for another reason.

Ocern Gabe was once again present, and this time Mando strode up to him and shook his hand warmly.

   “Councillor,” began Mando, “I believe you were talking earlier of an alliance between our two forces?  Something about your hardware, and our experience?”  Mando couldn’t help but grin like an idiot.

   “Indeed I did, Councillor,” replied Gabe. “From what I’ve seen today, I’m even more sure that we should stand together, for both our sake’s”

   “Then I have but one condition.”

   “And that is?” asked Gabe.

   “As we have the experience, I think it only fitting that the new Setnin Defence Force be commanded by a non-affiliate.”

I remember Ocern Gabe turning towards Ryath Centaur, pause for a second, and then nod his agreement.

   “Excellent,” beamed Mando.  “In that case let me introduce you to Tannis Rixx, ex-Janos Executioner, and Commander-in-Chief of our armed forces.”

As much as I’ll always remember that day as the day we not only survived but won the Battle of Histai, I’ll also never forget the look on Ocern Gabe’s face.

 

 

The Enemy of my Enemy

2001 short story by Paul Squire

Thirty-seven years after Episode IV – A New Hope

 

Histories – A pivotal moment in Setnin history, the formation of a truly unified Setnin Defence Force.  Until now, differing factions had formed an alliance, but without the assistance of the non-affiliated worlds.  But with the formation of the unified S.D.F, Setnin truly had a sector-wide army to fight back.  Showing the influence of Ryath Centaur and the Iron Claws, this Paul Squire story also showed Setnin politics at ground level, and their ability to adapt to new situations without the shackles of bureaucracy and the Galactic Alliance holding them back. 

 

Cast of Characters

 

Mando Kerreet

Ryath Centaur

Tannis Rixx

Ocern Gabe

Serrano

Heena

Hens

Kro Shush

Sevrina Maris

General Juyip

Minister Iklone

Minister of Security Brodden

Jan Lomona

Raj Gillet

Glorn Josch

Commander Gynar

Grogola