[LotS] Leads a squad of V-Wings against an armed transport

Vader's customized Eta-interceptor led the starfighter squadron as the star-lined tunnel of hyperspace gave way to the black of ordinary space. A quick scan allowed him to locate the hijacked weapons transport, which they'd been pursuing through several systems as it tried to work its way out to the Rim. The squadron disengaged from their hyperspace rings.

The heavily armed transport showed slight blaster damage along the aft hull near the three engines, behind the bloated center of the cargo bay.

"Attack formation," Vader ordered, and the pilots in the rest of the squad acknowledged the command and fell into formation.

Concerned that the hijackers might have dropped out of hyperspace to lure the squadron into an ambush, he ran a quick scan of the entire system. The interceptor's sensor array was not the most sensitive, but it showed only a pair of huge, ringed gas giants, each with a score or more of moons, an asteroid belt between the planets and the system's star, and a few planetoids at the outside of the system. Otherwise, the system was an uninhabited backwater.

"Scans show no other ships in the system," Vader said.

"Confirmed," the squadron commander replied.

The voice of one of the pilots carried over the comm: "They're powering up for another jump, Lord Vader."

"Follow my lead," Vader ordered, and accelerated to attack speed. "Do not allow them to jump again."

The V-wings and Vader's interceptor were far faster and more maneuverable than the transport and closed on it rapidly, devouring the space between. Vader did not bother consulting his instrumentation. He fell into the Force, flying by feel, as he always did.

Even before the interceptor and the V-wings closed to within blaster range, one of the freighter's engines burped a gout of blue flame and burned out. The hijackers had overtaxed the transport in their escape attempt.

"I want the shields down and the remaining two engines disabled," Vader said. Disabling the engines would prevent another hyperspace jump. "Do not destroy that ship."

The heavier armaments of the transport had a longer range than the interceptor and V-wings' blasters and opened up before the starfighters got within blaster range.

"Weapons are hot, go evasive," said the squadron leader as the transport's automated gun turrets filled the space between the ships with green lines. The starfighter squadron veered apart, twisting and diving.

Vader felt as much as saw the transport's blasters. He cut left, then hard right, then dived a few degrees down, still closing on the transport. One of the V-wings to his left caught a green line. Its wing fragmented and it went spinning and flaming off into the system.

The larger, crewed, swivel-mounted gun bubbles on either side of the transport's midline swung around and opened fire, fat pulses of red plasma.

"Widen your spacing," the squadron commander said over the comm. "Spacing!"

A burst of red plasma caught one of the V-wings squarely and vaporized it.

"Focus your fire on the aft shields," Vader said, his interceptor wheeling and spinning, sliding between the red and the green, until he was within range. He fired and his blasters sent twin beams of plasma into the aft shields. He angled the shot to maximize deflection. He did not want to pierce them and damage the ship, just drain them and bring them down.

The rest of the squadron did the same, hitting the transport from multiple angles. The transport bucked under the onslaught, the shields flaring under the energy load and visibly weakening with each shot. The entire squad overtook and passed the freighter, the green and red shots of its weapons chasing them along.

"Maintain spacing, stay evasive, and swing around for another pass," the squadron commander ordered. "Split squadron and come underneath."

The squadron's ships peeled right and left, circling back and down, and set themselves on another intercept vector. Vader decelerated enough to fall back to the rear.

"Bring the shields down on this pass, Commander," he said. "I have something in mind."



* * *



Pok had left the channel open so Cham and his crew could hear the activity aboard the hijacked freighter's bridge-Pok barking orders, someone calling the attack vectors of the V-wings, the boom of blasterfire on shields.

"Pok!" Cham said. "We can help!"

"No!" Pok said. "We're already down one engine. We can't power up yet, and there's a Star Destroyer somewhere behind these V-wings. There's nothing you can do for us, Cham." To one of his crew, Pok shouted, "Get the hyperdrive back online!"

An explosion sent a crackle of static and a scream of feedback along the channel.

"Shields at ten percent," someone on Pok's bridge called out.

"Hyperdrive still nonoperational," said someone else.

Isval grabbed Cham by the arm, hard enough for it to hurt. She spoke in a low, harsh voice. "We have to help them."

But Cham didn't see how they could. If he left the shelter of the rings, the V-wings or interceptors or whatever they were would pick them up on scan, and Cham had no illusions about the ability of his helm or his ship should they be discovered.

"No," Cham said to the helm. "Stay put."



* * *



Vader watched the transport go hard to port, taking an angle that would allow both of the midline weapons bubbles to fire on the approaching starfighters. As soon as they entered the transport's range, the automated turrets and gun bubbles opened fire, filling space with beams of superheated plasma. The V-wings swooped and twisted and dodged, spiraling through the net of green and red energy.

Vader, lingering behind, piloted his ship between the bolts, above them, below them. A third V-wing caught a shot from a gun turret and exploded, debris peppering Vader's cockpit canopy as he flew through the flames.

When the V-wings got within range, they opened fire and the freighter's shields fell almost immediately.

"Shields down, Lord Vader," the squadron leader reported.

"I'll take the engines," Vader said. "Destroy the turrets and the starboard-side midline gun bubble."

The pilots of his squadron, selected for their piloting excellence and a demonstrated record of kills, did exactly as he'd ordered. Small explosions lit up the hull, and the gun emplacements disappeared in flowers of fire. The transport shook from the impact as the V-wings swooped past it, up, and started to circle back around.

Meanwhile Vader veered to his left and down, locked onto the engines, and fired, once, twice. Explosions rocked the transport aft, and chunks of both engines spun off into space. Secondary explosions rocked the vessel, but it otherwise remained intact. Vader slowed still more, trailing the transport.

"She's running on inertia now, sir," said the squadron commander. "When the Perilous arrives, she can tractor the transport into one of her bays."

"I have no intention of leaving the hijackers aboard the ship that long," Vader said. He knew the hijackers would try to blow the ship, and there were enough weapons in the cargo bay to do just that. "I'm going to board her."

"Sir, the docking clamp on that ship is too damaged, and there's no landing bay," said the squadron commander.

"I am aware of that, Commander," Vader said.

The sole remaining gun bubble-operated by one of the hijackers-swung around and opened fire on Vader's ship. Still using the Force to guide him, Vader slung his ship side to side, up and down, staying just ahead of the blasterfire as he headed straight for the bubble. He could see the gunner inside the transparent canopy, feel his presence, insignificant and small, through the web of the Force.

"Sir...," the commander said as the V-wing squadron circled back around, but Vader did not acknowledge him.

Vader hit a switch and depressurized the interceptor's cockpit, his armor shielding him from the vacuum. Then, as he neared the transport's midline, still swinging his ship left and right to dodge the incoming fire, he selected a spot on the transport adjacent to the gun bubble and, using the Force, took a firm mental hold on it.

His interceptor streaked toward the gun bubble, aimed directly at it. Content with the trajectory, he unstrapped himself, overrode the interceptor's safeties, threw open the cockpit hatch, and ejected into space.

Immediately he was spinning in the zero-g, the ship and stars alternating positions with rapidity. Yet he kept his mental hold on the air-lock handle, and his armor, sealed and pressurized, sustained him in the vacuum. The respirator was loud in his ears.

His ship slammed into the gun bubble and the transport, the inability of the vacuum to transmit sound causing the collision to occur in eerie silence. Fire flared for a moment, but only a moment before the vacuum extinguished it. Chunks of debris exploded outward into space and the transport lurched.



* * *



A great boom sounded through the connection. Alarms wailed, and Pok's bridge exploded in a cacophony of competing conversations.

"Pok, what just happened?" Cham asked. "Are you all right?"

"We had a collision. We're all right. Get me status on the damage," Pok said to someone on his bridge. "Get someone over there now."



* * *



"Sir! Sir!" the squadron commander called, his voice frantic in Vader's helmet comm. "Lord Vader! What's happening, sir?"

Vader's voice was calm. "I'm docking with the transport, Commander."

Using the Force, Vader stopped his rotation and reeled himself in toward the large, jagged, smoking hole his interceptor had torn in the transport's hull. Loose hoses and electrical lines dangled from the edges of the opening, leaking gases and shooting sparks into space. A portion of his ship's wing had survived the impact and was lodged in the bulkhead. The rest had been vaporized on impact.

Vader pulled himself through the destruction until he stood in the remains of a depressurized corridor.