Restore the Security of Our Borders

Vindicator Life of Orian
Aeotheran Orbit
Orian System

Commander Kala Miros sat in her command chair, watching the screens. Ahead was a blank featureless grey moon, in orbit of which their prey was allegedly hiding.“Do we have any update on the sighting?”
Her first officer shook his head. “Not as yet no Captain,” he replied.
She revolved in her chair and focused on the bearded man sat behind her. “Are you sure about your intelligence Colonel?”
“It is as good as we have Commander,” he replied, “there have been three separate sightings of these vessels.”
“And you have no idea who they may be?”
The intelligence officer shook his head. “We do not believe they are Collective, they apparently lack the level of technology we associate with their ships.”
“So we could have two taskforces searching the moons of Aeotheran and Inos for pirates?”
“That is entirely possible Commander,” Senth replied, “however their activities seem suspicious for pirates. They have made no attacks on civilian freighters. They just flee when they see the Warhost, but only to a fallback position.”
Miros nodded. “We will have to see what we can do about that.”

“Captain, we have a signal,” her first officer reported.
“Identify it,” she replied.
“The trace is faint but it matches the size and speed of the target vessel.”
“Move to intercept,” the Commander ordered, moving forward in her chair.
“You must proceed with caution,” Senth urged from behind her.
“I am aware of the mission parameters Colonel.” In truth she did not want the intelligence officer here. For all the official status his rank and position gave him since they and other former Dlarit officers were drafted from the Dlarit military to the Warhost, she had been around long enough to know who the Colonel was. She was fully aware of the advanced commando programme and knew him for his actual status, at best an agent and at worst an assassin. Following his recent perceived success at Inos he had been promoted to full Colonel, but he was still an officer on paper only. She herself had faced prejudice and mistrust amongst some of the Dlarit military in the old days when she had joined from the True Brotherhood, but she had earned her place in the decade or more since.

The cruiser moved forward at a steady pace, the viewscreen ahead showing the moon as the Vindicator moved around it. “What are they doing?” the Commander asked.
“Holding position,” her first officer replied, “they show no sign of detecting us.”
Senth hummed. “That matches other sightings,” he commented, “they seem slow in detecting our vessels until they are close, though their speed still exceeds most of our fleet.”
Miros nodded. “If we can catch them in the moons gravity well we can be on them before they have time to manoeuvrer.”
“And if not?” Senth asked.
“We have our secondary option.”
“Good.”
They watched the screen as the moon moved beneath them, and then in the distance they could see the shape of a Carrack cruiser in the distance. It was sat motionless, its power and engines clearly low.
“Increase to attack speed and open fire.” Commander Miros ordered. “And break silence to the Satyr.”
“Remember we want that ship alive,” Senth urged.
“I know what I am doing Colonel.”

As the Vindicator closed in and opened fire, the enemy Carrack began to manoeuvrer, it's engines powering up as the Vindicator poured turbolaser shots into its shields. The Carrack returned fire with its side and rear weapons as it turned, hitting the Warhost vessels shields. Commander Miros had positioned the Vindicator well and the enemy ship was having to tightly manoeuvrer to gain distance from the moons gravity and get clear into open space. However the Carrack was built for speed and handling, as well as its deadly weapons array.
“They are getting away Captain,” Senth said, his voice raising slightly.
“Signal the Satyr to join us.”
As the Carrack continued to move away, its rear weapons attempting to defend against the Vindicators weapons pouring into it's weakening shields, a new threat appeared as the Arquitens cruiser made a sub light jump directly in the path of the escaping Carrack, followed by a squadron of X-Wings. As the Carrack struggled to respond to the new attacker the Satyr and it's escorting fighters joined it's firepower to that of the Light of Orian.
The two Dakhan cruisers pincered the Carrack. The enemy ship war firing at both vessels now, and its heavy weapons were weakening their shields, but the combined assault of them and the fighters was beginning to take their toll.
“Enemy shields failing Captain,” the first officer reported.
“Target their engines and power supply,” she ordered, “and open a hail.”
“Done ma'am.”
She raised her voice. “Hostile ship, this is Commander Miros of the Orian Warhost. You are ordered to surrender. If you do not you will be destroyed.”
There was no response.
“That may be their orders Commander,” Senth commented.
“Well that is not going to happen.”

The Carrack was slowing as its shields failed and the shots from the two Dakhan cruisers began to bite into its armour, targetting critical points. Finally there was an explosion from its rear and it began to list, slowly rotating in the moons gravity.
“Bring us in close and lock a tractor beam on them. We need to keep them away from that moon. Order the Satyr to assist. Order the special missions company to prepare for boarding.”
Senth nodded in approval. So far the ambush had been textbook. “With your permission Commander I will accompany the boarding party.”
She had no reason to deny the request, though she would have if were possible. She did not appreciate the faux intelligence officer interfering in her task.“Very well Colonel. Meet them in the hangar.”
Senth saluted and left the bridge. Kala Miros was not sad to see him go.

Senth sat aboard one of the CR25 troop carriers as they made their way out of the Vindicators hangar and out into space towards the prone Carrack, accompanied by several wings of escorting fighters. He watched as the enemy ship grew larger. They separated, each heading for an insertion point in the cruisers hull, and his own ship made for the port hatch. The detachment was under command of a gruff senior sergeant, who clearly knew his business, and was split into troopers, sharpshooters and specialists. They were arguably the finest soldiers House Shar Dakhan had at their disposal and inclusion was earned by the best from the other companies.
The CR25 lined up with the port hatch and two of the specialists began work in the hatch. Sergeant Malox looked over at Senth. “You may want to hang back when we go in Colonel, and let my boys and girls handle the rough stuff,” he said gruffly, “we wouldn't want you to get hurt sir.”

Senth looked back at him coolly. However good the sergeant and his troopers were, the former clone commando had been literally grown to “handle the rough stuff” and had lost count of how much of it he had seen over the years. However he was an observer here. “Very well Sergeant.”
Sergeant Malox turned to his troopers. “Okay this is it. We go in, neutralise anything we meet and take the vessel corridor by corridor. We don't know who these people are so assume the worst but do us proud.”
The hatch opened with a flash and the specialists stood quickly aside as in rows of four the troopers and sharpshooters quickly made their way inside, firing their blasters at defenders who lined the corridor. Sergeant Malox, holding a vibrosword in one hand and a heavy blaster in the other, charged in after his troopers. Then Senth followed, gripping his carbine.

The defenders were lining the corridor, hiding behind hastily assembled barriers or doorways, as the Dakhan troopers took the fight to them. Senth remained near the hatch to the CR25, aiming and firing his carbine with deadly accuracy. Several of the Dakhan troopers hurled grenades over the heads of the defenders, to explode causing them to as several unlucky ones were caught in the explosion and went down. The defenders were undeterred however, and fought back with skill and proficiency. Senth studied them as he fought. They were not the badly trained and armed pirates or insurgents he had been expecting, they were professional troopers in black armour that looked oddly familiar. He watched as one came forward, meeting Sergeant Malox with a sword of her own, and the NCO battled with her as their blades met and the blaster bolts from both sides sizzled around them. The enemy NCO's blade carved a gap down the side of Maloxs armour, before the Sergeant knocked her blade away, and then swung the hand carrying the heavy pistol round to smash into the side of her armoured head. As she fell he raised his sword and drove it down into her chest.

Senth moved forward with the troopers, forgetting his promise to stay back. The armoured defenders were fighting bravely, and amongst them were uniformed crew that added to their numbers, but Malox's elite troopers outnumbered them and were driving them back. Another enemy defender with a heavy sword drove at the commando officer, and Senth angled his body so that the sword whistled past, and then grabbed the arm pulling the enemy closer to him, and then pointed his left vambrace directly at the eye socket and drove a sharp dart straight into the right eye, before dropping the corpse. Slowly the remaining defenders backed off, as the Dakhan force had a renewed surge of confidence. As they moved forward more troopers came from the opposite direction towards the hangar, the force on one of the other CR25s, and with reinforcements the boarders gained more ground against the outnumbered defenders and their lightly armoured allies. Suddenly an order seemed out to the defenders, and their retreat quickened, fighting backwards as they aimed their shots at the assaulting Dakhan troops.

Sergeant Malox stopped for a second, and nudged one of the dead defenders with his foot, looking at the man in black armour. “They're good are this lot, not what you expected, eh sir?”
Senth looked down at the trooper, a slightly sick feeling washing over him. He recognised the armour now, it was very familiar to him even though the pattern and insignias had changed. “ No Sergeant, they are definitely not what I expected. We must take the bridge quickly.”
“Aye, we will sir. Follow me.”
The bridge was at the end of a long corridor, and the defenders were battling to protect it. Any attempt to persuade them to surrender had proved fruitless, and each fought bravely and relentlessly. Senth fought alongside Malox, the Sergeant now apparently accepting that the Colonel was not just some intelligence desk jockey that needed nursemaiding. The two made an efficient pair, as they took the centre as Dakhan troopers either side battled driving back the defenders or mowing them to the ground, and many of their own numbers suffered the same fate.
Finally the attackers were too much and they battled their way through the doors to the bridge, kicking aside crates that had been placed in the entrance. There were less than twenty remaining defenders now, and they stood fiercely around their leader, firing at the attackers as they were picked off one by one. Sergeant Malox leapt forward at the leader, a man in familiar heavy armour. The man moved left and grabbed the Sergeants wrist, twisting and flipping Malok, who hit the deck hard, the wind knocked out of him. As his troopers raised their blasters Senth shouted, “Hold your fire!” As the troopers obeyed, Senth looked at the enemy officer, his eyes sweeping up and down the ARC armour, until he focused on the symbol on his chest, the twenty-ninth letter in the Aurabesh alphabet. “Onith.”
The officer looked at him through his helmet visor. “Senth.”

Onith slowly pulled off his helmet, revealing his white hair and the features that were practically identical to Senth's own, except for a long scar running from brow to chin down the left hand side. The other former DAC met Senth as the Colonel pulled off his own helmet. “So,” Onith commented coldly, “you remain their puppet.”
“What are you doing here?” Senth demanded.
“We came home,” Onith replied, “to take revenge. For what they did to us, breeding us to be their servants.”
“To take revenge,” Senth repeated, “with small force of Dlarit marines and three old Carrack cruisers, against the entire Warhost?”
An amused look washed over the face of he scarred clone. “Of course not, things are much more serious for you than that. As Naga Sadow will soon see.” He looked into Senth's eyes. “So, do you still serve the madman?”
“No but I work with him occasionally,” Senth replied, “So, do you surrender?”
“Of course not,” Onith replied, “but then you knew that.”
“We need you alive,” Senth replied, “you might be conditioned against interrogation, we all were, but you know what the Clan are capable of. You will tell us.”
The cold smile remained on Onith's features, and then with a sudden movement he hurled himself at his fellow advanced commando, grabbing Senth and aiming his own vambrace laser at Senth's head. Senth grabbed the wrist and aimed a blow with his free hand at Onith's face, his armoured fist striking the enemy clone's chin. Onith grunted as his head was driven back, and his leg lashed out hitting Senth's chest. As Senth was knocked back, Orinith raised his wrist and fired at Senth, the shot burning along the left hand side as the Warhost officer moved quickly to avoid a lethal shot.

Sergeant Malox was on his feet again, and he bade his troopers to wait as they watched the two clones exchanging blows and shots as they circled each other. He could probably hit the enemy clone as they quickly moved around in front of him, but there was a risk and he was now slightly in awe of their combat skills. The blond hair scarred features of Onith and the dark haired and short bearded matching face of Senth were locked in intensity at each other. There was nothing between them and though each of their armour showed cuts and blaster marks, neither had sustained a serious injury. Then Onith extended himself slightly too much and Senth grabbed his arm pulling him close, and a small blade extended from his right vambrace, finding a gap in the clones armour and driving it in. As Oniths face twisted in pain he smashed a flailing first into Senths head, as the Warhost clone twisted the blade inside him. Finally he collapsed as blood squirted from his wound.
“Surrender,” Senth spat, his usually calm demeanour gone now.
“Go to hell!” Onith snarled through his pain.
“Who are you working with, what is this threat?”
“You will find out puppet!” Onith replied. He made a sudden biting movement, and then a substance began to dribble from his mouth and his eyes glazed over.
Senth dropped the body. “Damn. We needed him alive.”
“Aye sir,” Sergeant Malox replied. “I'll get my tech boys to give their databank a look over. We might find something useful.”
The Colonel nodded. “Hail Commander Miros and request she sends a skeleton crew to take over. I will inform the Summit of what we have found and tell them what to expect from the other Carracks. If there are others like Onith one might be taken alive.” He turned and left the bridge.