Going Viking Final Results.

Hey all,

Thank you to everyone who took part in the Going Viking competition. We saw some great entries and as below the final result was very close:

1st - DarkHawk Sadow - 52 Points .

2nd - Locke Sonjie - 50 Points.

3rd - Bentre Sadow - 45 Points.

4th - Quealik Furban - 15 Points.

Joint 5th - Malik Sadow and Hades - 10 Points.

Again thank you from Aedile Tasha'Vel and myself to all those who entered and won some crescents, and hope you had fun.

regards

Malisane Sadow

Shar Dakhan Quaestor

And Now For The Closing Fiction.

Kinestia

The Aldor System

The Overlord of Clan Naga Sadow watched in satisfaction as the shuttles of his forces queued efficiently to enter the hangar of the immense Acclamator hovering over the smoking city. Each was bringing mineral wealth or other treasures taken by force from the inhabitants. He had heard rumours of pockets of resistance holed up but for the best part the city had surrendered. He was proud of this simple but effective achievement.

Nearby his Proconsul was leading a column of Warhost troopers back to the ship, also guiding floating platforms laden with loot to the ramps into the Harbinger. The shaevalian saw the Clan leader and approached him, giving a polite inclination of his head. “The final transports are coming in now, Overlord. We should be ready to depart within the hour.”

“Any problems?” Bentre asked.

DarkHawk shook his head. “None. All units report success.”

Bentre nodded, and then paused as an incoming message came through his communicator. “Yes?”

“Overlord, this is Admiral Simonetti.”

“Report Admiral.”

“We are detecting an incoming force on a direct approach to the Aldor system. They will be here in less than an hour.”

“How large?” Bentre demanded.

“We can not detect their exact designation, but large enough to be an serious issue,” the Admiral replied.

Bentre nodded, then looked at DarkHawk who had been monitoring the communication. “Signal our forces, I am moving our departure up to thirty minutes. They will be aboard or they will be left behind .”

“Very well Overlord,” DarkHawk replied.

---

Marka Ragnos Quaestor Locke Sonjie was leading a convoy of Warhost Troopers along one of the main streets, moving quickly in their speeder transports. Outwardly he was remaining calm and professional. Inwardly he was displeased. This should have been an efficient operation carried out by the Clan troopers. However, though most had apparently remained focused on the objective, many had still found time to abuse the citizens or carry out wanton and needless slaughter and destruction.

From the reports he had received this had been met by indifference or even encouragement by some of the NCOs and officers leading the troopers. The Adept was no stranger to the horrors of war but he was determined that there would be action taken following this, and the need for professionalism reinforced over the Clan forces even if it had to be put firmly and harsly. That was a problem for later though.

A communications officer who sat behind him suddenly looked up. “Message from the Pro Consul Quaestor, the departure has been moved up to thirty minutes.”

Locke glanced at the map display in front of him. “Continue to the Harbinger, we will be there in time.”

---

A short distance away Tasha’Vel was watching several troopers load a crate of artefacts onto the back of the speeder. She was pleased. They had been informed of the potentially valuable find by a squad of troopers and had quickly come over. She was aware of the advanced departure time but this was too valuable to lose. She had been glad to have the Acolyte with her with his explosive skill to safely enter the underground building. Quealik Ferban watched eagerly as the prize was finally secured in place. The Twi’lek Aedile nodded in satisfaction. “Time to move,” she said at the Acolyte, and then repeated it more loudly at the quiet and brooding Quaestor who was standing nearby, already ignited azure saber in his hand.

“I sense something,” the deep voice replied from beneath the mask, “trouble is coming.”

“Yes,” she replied impatiently as the troopers and Acolyte looked around curiously, “that is why we need to depart now.”

“No,” Malisane replied more loudly, “make ready!”

As Tasha’Vel ignited her own saber, doors burst open from the buildings around them, and the sudden sound of blaster fire filled the air. The Warhost troopers immediately took defensive positions around the speeder as they began to return fire, and Tasha’Vel moved her saber back and forth deflecting blaster shots as she saw lightly armoured figures burst from the building.

“They must have been waiting for their reinforcements to signal. We need to get out of here!” she shouted, “get the speeder ready to depart.”

Then she heard a roar of anger from beside her, and watched in horror as her fellow Warlord tensed, and then leapt through the air towards the emerging enemies. “Wait!” she said a second too late. Malisane landed amongst the enemy fighters, raising his fist in a long practised move and then slamming it downwards, causing an telekinetic eruption that momentarily shook those around him, and then began to lay about the enemy with swift and powerful saber strikes.

The twi’lek cursed as she ran towards her Quaestor who was battling anyone in sight, blind with rage. The loyal troopers and the Acolyte followed her, firing in support. As more previously hidden enemies appeared she had a nasty feeling they were about to miss the departure.

---

“Five minutes to the Harbinger, Quaestor,” the communications officer reported, “fifteen left to departure time.”

Locke nodded in satisfaction. “Good,” he shut his eyes for a second, and then opened them hurriedly, “take the next right at the junction and have the other speeders follow.”

“Sir?” the officer replied in surprise, “our ship is straight ahead.”

“Follow my orders!”

At his insistence the convoy accelerated, and then took the next right, each speeder swinging round the follow the one in front as Locke looked ahead, hand gripping his saber. Then he saw them ahead. A crowd of lightly armoured enemies were battling a small group of defenders, a few remaining troopers fighting alongside a familiar twi'lek and burned human, standing nearly back to back as they hacked at the enemies around them. Nearby a younger man in light robes was firing his blaster in support, and lobbing grenades at the furthest attackers.

“Drive them off!” he ordered as he leapt down from the speeder and strode forward, a shimmering barrier appearing in front of him. His troopers quickly moved to follow.

---

Tasha’Vel was focused on her opponents, feeling the force driving her fighting skills as she planted her feet as she blocked a blaster bolt and sliced at an enemy, her saber slicing through armour and then skin and bone. Alongside her Malisane was incandescent, attacking furiously at anything he could see and ignoring wounds he had picked up. His hood and cloak were gone, his robes were torn and blood masked his burned features. The enemies seemed determined to finish them off, furious themselves by the raid and desperate to punish those responsible.

Then she heard blaster fire from down the street and felt a shift in those surrounding them as the pressure broke as the enemy moved to confront a new foe. Encouraged, she and Malisane continued the attack as they sensed and then saw the Ragnos Quaestor and his troopers laying down a deadly assault, arranged in professional order and slowly overcoming the enemy. Finally the Kinestian forces broke and ran, heading the other way down the street or into the buildings.

Tasha’Vel gave a weary but thankful smile at the Ragnos Quaestor who was calmly walking towards them. “It is good to see you.”

Locke nodded then gave a polite gesture at Quealik who had joined them. “We have to go.”

Then she felt a surge of rage from beside her as the Dakhan Quaestor began to move, hatred filling his features as he began to follow the Kinestians down the street. “No!” she shouted at him. “We are leaving!”

“Then leave,” Malisane snarled back, his ravaged features focused on the retreating enemy, “I will destroy them!”

“Do not be an idiot,” Locke said coldly.

Tasha’Vel looked around quickly, and then extended a hand. A metal pole detached itself from the ground and landed in her grip. “Malisane!”

“What?” he demanded, turning to her, and then staggered backwards as the pole cracked against the side of his head. Furious, he raised his saber above her, and then collapsed.

“Well done,” Locke commented as troopers ran forward to pick up his fellow Quaestor, “should you wish to do that again I will look the other way.”

“Let's just go,” the twi’lek Aedile replied wearily..

---

The Sadowan Proconsul stood on top of the Harbingers’ ramp, impatiently waiting as the final few transports flew into the hangar or trundled up the ramp. “Give me a progress report please Proconsul,” the Admiral’s voice sounded in his ear.

“The final transports are loading Admiral,” DarkHawk replied, “we are awaiting one final company.”

“The clock is ticking,” Simonetti told him, “enemy forces are on final approach. We have seven minutes to depart.”

“They will be here,” the Proconsul replied.

Then he heard the roar of repulsor engines and a line of speeders appeared heading down the main street, and DarkHawk smiled as he could make out the features of the Ragnos Quaestor and Dakhan Aedile in the front one. Then he frowned as he sensed danger, and then saw enemies heading out of alleyways nearby and appearing on roof tops. It was an ambush and the convoy of speeders were the target. “Sadowan forces, to me!” DarkHawk barked.

From behind him a column of Warhost troopers appeared, forming a defensive line and firing at the approaching ambushers. From his position in the front speeder, Locke observed the threat and ordered his troopers to return fire as around him blaster fire showered down on them. A shimmering barrier appeared again, covering them as the Adept focused.

DarkHawk directed his troops to maintain their covering fire as one of the rear speeders exploded under a rocket attack, crashing into a nearby building. The lead speeder was only a short distance away and the Proconsul directed his force to make a gap for them to Ascend the ramp. He caught a grateful glance from the twi'lek as the lead speeder passed him and entered the hangar, and the surviving speeders followed.

DarkHawk followed them up the ramp, his troopers keeping a covering fire on the attackers. “Close up!” he shouted and the ramp began to close. “All forces are aboard Admiral,” he announced into his communicator, “we are free to depart.”

---

The Harbinger began to ascend away from the city below, turning and manoeuvring before firing its engines. On the bridge Admiral Simonetti sat in his chair, directing the crew intensely. He was aware of the time they had left. Warlord Hades, who had joined them on the bridge, looked up from a console. “The rest of our task force are in position,” he reported, “they merely await us.”

“You will need to be fast, Admiral,” the Neti Adept advised Simonetti, “there is little room for error now.”

Simonetti nodded. “I am aware of that. We should have time.”

They watched the display as the atmosphere thinned and the shapes of the Carracks and smaller ships that made up their force could be seen waiting in formation.

“Nearly there,” Hades said confidently.

The Neti Adept was watching the display. “Not nearly enough, I am afraid.”

The alarm that followed his announcement drowned out Hades response, and as the acclamator left the atmosphere and their escorts formed around them, there was a distortion in front of them, and then more. As they watched two Nebulon B Escort Frigates left hyperspace, directly in their path. A second later a Mark II Assault Frigate joined them, and a host of fighters. Then a pair of Marauder corvettes appeared at each end of the enemy task force. They were outnumbered and outgunned.

“How did they get here so quickly,” Hades asked grimmly, “we were assured they would take longer to respond.”

Malik watched the enemy force approaching. “Their sudden appearance would suggest they were already on route, here,” he replied calmly, “either as a routine matter or they had forewarning of our attack.”

“That is academic right now,” Simonetti replied, “we cannot stand against them backed against the planet.”

“Agreed,” Hades acknowledged after a few seconds.

“We are being hailed Admiral,” a bridge officer informed them.

“Let us hear it,” Simonetti replied.

A man's voice came over the communicator. “This is Procurator Torde, of the Andoria Federation Defence fleet. We have monitored your illegal and hostile attack on our assets and the city of Kinestia. You are outnumbered and are ordered to surrender to face justice for your crimes. If you do so we will seize your fleet in compensation for our losses, and allow the majority of your crews and soldiers to leave as free men and women once we have reached our headquarters. Your leaders alone will face justice.” There was a pause. “If you resist we will be forced to destroy your fleet without mercy.”

“They do not mince their words,” Hades commented.

“Unacceptable,” a voice spoke from behind them. The Clan Overlord had entered silently and was observing. The bridge crew rose and saluted, and Bentre waved them back to their seats. He looked at the Admiral, Neti Adept and Warlord. “What are our options?”

Simonetti considered this. “They are correct. We can not defeat them under conventional terms. Their force is stronger, we still have damage to some of our ships and we have lost too many fighters. However, as you say, surrender is not an option.”

“If necessary we will die,” Hades added, “I am sure many of our clan would prefer that to the indignity of arrest and imprisonment, or public execution.”

“There is something in that,” Malik said quietly.

Bentre’s head snapped around. “What do you mean?”

The Neti turned to look at him. “They are typical corporate types. They care about their profit and status. They are displeased by their losses. I am sure they would not wish to lose a great deal of additional assets. They do not know that we feel the same.”

A slight smile touched the Admiral’s features. “With your permission Overlord?”

“Of course," Bentre replied with a nod.

Simonetti touched the communicator. “We are unwilling to surrender. If you do not want your force to be destroyed, you will allow us to depart.”

There was a pause. “Enemy force,” the reply came, “You have no chance of escape. You will surrender, or die.”

Following a quick work with the Admiral, Hades was tapping at a console. “I have the coordinates transmitted to our ships.”

Simonetti nodded. “Full power to front deflectors and engines. And prepare a course to the Orian System.”

There was a shudder as the Acclamator began to move forward and accelerate. The Dauntless and Defiant formed up port and stern of them, with the remaining corvettes and gunships flanking them. A second later the enemy fleet opened fire, turbolaser blasts hitting the deflectors of the Sadowan ships, which absorbed the damage as the ships advanced, each targeting an enemy ship of appropriate size.

On the bridge the crew and Sadowans watched grimmly as the enemy ships grew larger on the screens, and then they felt a satisfaction as the turbolaser barrage ceased and they began to manoeuvre to the left or right, their own engines fully powering up as they fought to get out of the way of the relentless Sadowan ships. Then apparently realising their vulnerable position, they escaped to hyperspace.

The assembled members on the bridge relaxed. Bentre nodded in satisfaction. “Our pride and plunder are intact. Take us home Admiral.”