Target Earth: Arrival/Chapter 1 - Battle



Sector 3123

"INCOMING!"

Explosions rocked the Gallofree-class transport as its countermeasures barely took out the hails of photon torpedoes directed at it. Imperial Broadside cruisers were surrounding it, furiously firing off volleys of torpedoes. Under usual circumstances, the Gallofree would have been reduced to scrap metal within seconds. Fortunately for its occupants, the transport had been modified accordingly for such a situation--but even the advanced laser countermeasures that made up most of said modifications were being strained to the limit.

Aboard the command centre within the Gallofree, Fres Trazon grabbed hold of the nearest control console as the ship was shaken by yet another volley. "Damage report! Damage report!" he screamed, hoping someone would hear him above the blaring of alarms and explosions.

"Shields barely holding, sir. Don't think we can--oh, kriffing hell! They took out the aft generators!"

"And we are not getting out of here why?" demanded Trazon, his voice reaching fever pitch.

"Working on it, working on it!" cried one of the bridge crewmen as he manipulated some controls. Lazily, the transport began pulling away from the Broadsides, the bottom shields taking the next volley of torpedoes. As soon as the manouever was completed, the engines engaged, sending the transport rapidly forward into a gas cloud, the aft cannons letting off some shots at the Broadsides, which struggled to turn in its direction.

"Hyperdrive's still overheated." announced an engineer on the bridge. "We're gonna have to wait about three minutes before we can jump."

"Really? In that case, I want as much space between us and that Imperial space station in that three minutes. Where's that Acclamator that kicked our asses?"

"Not on sensors, sir. Looks like we're in the clear."

Trazon sighed in relief as he walked over to a nearby monitor bank. He glanced at one that displayed the contents of the transport's troop compartments: ranks of the 12th Alliance Specforce Team's finest, strapped into their seats, most looking terrified. Had the operation that the alliance had just commenced here in Sector 3123 gone to plan, they would have stormed an Imperial research facility, overpowered its defences and garnered valuable Imperial intelligence. Unfortunately, the Imperial defences were far more stronger than anticipated, and so the Alliance flotilla had been decimated, with this Gallofree now the only survivor. Trazon worried for a moment as to whether they would bump into any Imperial patrol ships, but then stopped--the Empire had decided to place this facility in the fringes of a nebula, which jammed most types of sensors in the area. Presumably, the Empire thought that this would hide it from prying eyes. Unfortunately for them, it also jammed most types of Imperial sensors as well. Clearly, they hadn't thought that one through.

Suddenly, he just realised something.

"Not on sensors? That doesn't mean anything. They could be right next to us for all we know..." he glanced out of a nearby viewport. All he could see was the purple haze of the nebula gases.

"Two minutes to hyperspace jump time." announced the engineer. Trazon began sweating. All he wanted now was those two minutes to go by quickly.