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The tournament simulation is extremely detailed. Every element of your starship, all the void beyond, each gesture and comment of your crew - it all seems real. Your starfleet is drawn from historical designs, the kind that still see use here and there in the Outer Rim. You command:
2 x Imperial Star Destroyer Mark II (simplified loadout: 12 TIE Bombers, 24 TIE Interceptors, 36 TIE Fighters, assorted dropships/shuttles)
Your enemy has the exact same starship types. You've given all your ships their own names; naturally, they're better than the names your opponent chose for the enemy fleet.
The scenario is extremely straightforward, and one that might give serious pause to another commander: you are in deep space. No moons, no asteroids, no plasma flares or meteor showers or natural gravity wells or reinforcements or refuge. Emptiness, and the enemy. You begin just outside long range from each other.
Enjoy.
OOC/ The battle will last one week, or until one of you concedes, or longer if both of you agree. If one of you fails to post within the first two days, a new opponent will be subbed in. Victory/defeat should be pretty straightforward for you to determine between yourselves; I'll pick a winner if both of you feel you've won.
Her will reached out, a force of almost passing malevolence and anger. Her target was an officer seated at a console at one of the forward stations on the bridge. With a thought, she touched his mind, seeking and hungering for emotions and any concept of intent. What she found was mostly unsurprising, the anxiety and tension common to every warrior before a battle, the calmness that came with knowing ones place in the arrangement, and the ever-present fear of death and the unknown.
And interestingly enough, fear of her. That was good, for now.
Though the aura that surrounded her was clearly that of the dark side, there was no particular ill will in this gesture. It was merely practice, a way to pass the time. Perhaps such casual manipulation of the very fabric of being was what separated those that swore by the dark side or the light. No doubt great philosophers without a single practical concern engaged in endless debates on the very topic. The weak and useless excelling at the task of taking up space.
The transparisteel viewports ahead of her were dominated by the sight of the massive ion engines of a second Star Destroyer. Currently holding station just off the starboard bow at approximately 25 degrees of elevation, the Manticore was mostly motionless, the huge thrusters glowing only faintly blue. A steady stream of small craft made their way to and from the ship, last minute transfers of personnel, parts, and materials throughout the fleet.
An enemy force had been detected several hours earlier, at extreme sensor range. With no complicating terrain in the way, and given that both forces were comprised of exactly the same ships, neither commander seemed particularly rushed to jump into things unprepared. There would be no genius strategic plays here, or broad operational plans that could ruin an entire offensive. This was going to be pure ship-to-ship tactics.
A small chime sounded, indicating that the Captain of the Manticore had finished his logistics operations and was sealing up in preparation for battle. The other ships of the fleet quickly followed suite, and began moving into combat formation. It was a fairly conventional setup for now, anchored around the two destroyers. Manticore lead, with the two Lancer 'frigates' stationed closely behind it, shielding them from fire but allowing for rapid interception of incoming raids. The flagship, Chimera, followed on Manticore's starboard quarter, with the Immobilizer a few kilometers directly on the beam. The four escorts held the rear.
A derivation of old Galactic Civil War era stuff, but she was working with classics here anyway. This was far from a normal engagement. Alina preferred rapid, violent, offensive tactics that focused on breaking apart enemy formations and eliminating ships piecemeal. And yet, this particular battle seemed like a poor place to get overconfident. Something about the demeanor the enemy commander, perhaps.
As the formation moved forward it began to drift apart along the z axis, giving every ship a clear line of fire towards the enemy. And possible exposure to enemy fire, of course.
Screams. Alarms. The sensation of falling. A crushing weight.
These were the immediate memories and sensations that flirted on the edge of Larraq's awareness. Until he opened his eyes anyway.
The world felt vague... Hollow. Wrong and right at the same time. Before him stretched a gray metal expanse of decking dotted by computers and young men and women in crisp uniforms. Larraq couldn't tell if this was something new or something old, but he knew that it was familiar. This was home.
Looking down at himself, Larraq saw that he was standing. Thin leather boots polished to perfection covered his feet while a crisp, monochrome uniform covered the rest of his flesh. <An Imperial Uniform.> His mind asserted through the fog of confusion that drifted through Larraq's awareness.
"Hostile contacts." Called out a voice. The back of his mind telling him the voice was familiar, a sensor operators whose name he should know. "Composition matches target profile 98%."
"Show me." Larraq said, struggling to push the fog of his old life from his awareness of the here and now. Some deep, dark echo in the back of his mind wondering if this was heaven or hell.
A display ahead of him crawled to life as holographic projections of triangular Imperial ships filled the air above itself. Behind it, Larraq couldn't help but to notice the expanse of space calling to him through a thick, reinforced plane of glass. <Those are my ships.> Larraq's mind said in protest a moment before a mirrored formation of ships took form in the void above the holodisplay. Each ship was an exact copy of the other. A thing that Larraq's mind couldn't recall if intentional or not.
Before his eyes, the opposing formation of ships began to drift apart, part or his mind translating the image as that of outstretching arms preparing for an embrace. That same part of his mind whispered that he should do the same. Spread is forces and meet his opponent on the even playing field that fate had provided. Larraq wanted to comply with the echo... The whisper of another mind within his own. But a twist in his gut churned at the fog in his mind, telling him that something about this was wrong.
"Rotate us 90-degrees to starboard." Larraq said calmly, as one part of his mind found victory against the other. "Have our sister ship rotate 90 to port and come alongside us. Belly to belly as close as she can safely get."
A few members of his bridge staff turned to stare at him for the barest of moments before returning their attention to the thousands of tasks that were necessary for running a ship of this size. "Have our CR90 escorts do the same." He said as the logical part of his mind asserting itself over the fog of old memories and echo of other voices. "Have them pair off, two above and two below, mirroring one another. Have the Lancer Frigates move to to either side of us, I want them positioned near either Star Destroyer's bridge... And order the Immobilizer ahead of us, directly between us and our sister ship."
A tingle of urgency pulled at the base of Larraq's skull as he struggled to remember which part of the dance he had forgotten... "Launch all fighters and activate Interdiction field." He called out as his commanders and subcommanders struggled to position their ships as he had ordered.
Where the enemy formation took on the appearance of outstretched arms, his own slowly took on the appearance of a drill.
The enemy formation was... unconventional, but not without merit. Imperial Star Destroyers had large blindspots to their rear and ventral sections, but rotating both ships they covered their vulnerable hangers and allowed for nearly perfect gun coverage everywhere but directly to the rear. Theoretically, if it came to a straight up fight, Alina's force would still have an advantage in being able to mass fire on a single target while possibly being able to keep one ship or the other obscured, but that assumed the enemy simply held the current spindle, which seemed unlikely. There was also the risk that her opponent would try and accelerate and break through, thus giving him the advantage on volume of fire.
That gut feeling, perhaps it was the force telling her to be cautious. For once, she lamented her lack of formal training. But this wasn't the time or place to lash out with anger. Not for the first time she remembered her service with the One Sith, and the capabilities and personalities of the various commanders there. How would Chysa'sk have handeled this? Probably by withdrawing and setting up a tangled web, something which was impossible here. Or perhaps old Worgemuth would be a better example. He would have started shooting by now, hoping to drag the enemy into a battle of attrition until he made a mistake. Not quite as easy to pull off with only a handful of ships, and most firepower concentrated in two destroyers.
"Stay at max range for now, we'll dance a bit, see who makes the first misstep. Launch all squadrons and keep the interdiction field warmed up. Manticore will vector up, and Chimera will start moving down. One lancer will trail each, split the escort in halves, and lets see if they take the bait."
She paused, checked herself, and double checked. Everything still felt off, but the sensors were functioning properly and all indications were that there was nothing else out there. Just an enemy fleet with the exact same composition as hers and an unknown commander. She muttered a curse under her breath and pushed the unease away. Indecision and weakness got you devoured by the Sith, that was a lesson she learned well enough. But if they had the time, it didn't hurt to be sure.
"Have the Wrastler run a system sweep, just to be sure, but make sure it keeps its gravity wells spun up. They can drop shields and engines for now if necessary."
The Interdictor would hold position, with the corvettes holding at an angle above to starboard, and below to port. At the same time, each destroyer edged forward, and instead of outstretched arms the overall look became that of some sort of exaggerated alligator jaws. The squadrons split into three groups, half of each destroyer's wing clustered behind their parent vessels, while the rest grouped up with the two squadrons off the cruiser to form a fighter screen in the center-rear of the clamping jaw.
"Interdiction field is up. All ships reporting ready and in position." Came a voice to Larraq's right. "Starfighter Squadrons are deployed and requesting further instructions."
"Understood." Came Larraq's voice in response, almost of its own accord. "Have all Starfighters initiate a clockwise orbital rotation at 3km distance from our formation's center point."
A quiet filled the room as a number of young men and women in crisp imperial uniforms turned to stare at him, many of which displaying arched eyebrows. "You... What?" Stuttered the young woman, confused as to what actual orders she should be relaying.
Annoyed, Larraq simply pressed a button on the holodisplay and moved his finger through it in a sweeping arc, a red line conjured forth into existence and trailed behind his finger tip. "Have all Starfighters form up at 3km lateral distance from the center point between the two star destroyers." He said, indicating the line that circled the width and height of both star destroyers. "Have them orbit counter-clockwise while maintaining a 3km distance. As our formation moves forward, they move forward in as precise position as possible, using the gravity of the Interdiction field to help them alone. It should be as easy as falling."
"I... I will relay those instructions Captain." Reported the woman, unable to hide the shock and confusion in her voice. "But how will we prevent collisions?" She asked meekly.
"Have a tactical droid help you run the math." Larraq said with a nod towards one of the droids that had previously been doing an outstanding job of standing in the corner and not being seen. Once addressed though, the droid calmly approached the young woman and began feeding her the 'orbital trajectories' the star fighters would need.
Satisfied that that was taken care of, Larraq returned his attention to the holodisplay. Already, the unruly swarm of Starfighters we're wrapping into a spiralling formation that encircled his main ships as the enemy formation split into an over-under maneuver. "Have all ships halt forward thrust and drift. Use maneuvering thrusters to maintain formation with this ship." He said as he stared at the display.
"Understood captain." Reported a young imperial officer seconds before the display began showing the changes he had ordered.
"Have the Immobilizer bow-up 90-degrees and prioritize all power to ventral shields and Interdiction field." He said as he adjusted his stance and shifted his weight slightly. He felt... Oddly light. "Have Lancer Frigates bow-down 90-degrees and prioritize dorsal shields and weapons." He added.
"Understood captain." Repeated the same voice, this time unable to hide the tinge of confusion and doubt that crept into it.
"Have both star destroyers lock onto the Immobilizer with every tractor beam that can get an angle on it." Larraq said absently as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, unsure of why he felt so light. <Is it the clothes, or me?> he wondered silently as his voice continued issuing orders. "And try to get at least two tractor beams locked onto the Lancer Frigates."
"Under.... Understood captain." The same voice reported. A few seconds later adding, "All ships report tractor beams successfully initiated and await further orders."
"Good." Captain Larraq said as he stopped rocking on his feet and began pondering his sudden urge for a smoke and a drink. "Begin a slow and steady acceleration. Monitor the strain on the tractor beam mounts carefully and have the rest of the formation match or speed and rate of acceleration."
On the display screen, Larraq watched as his formation of ships slowly inched faster and faster as they sought to close the gap between themselves and their targets. The pair of Star Destroyers sat rolled on their sides, looking like mirror images of one another, the vastly smaller triangular cruiser held before them like some sort of shield or ram, the gravitational field it emitted helping to drag the entire formation along as it moved. Above and slightly forward of each Star Destroyer, a Lancer Frigates was held aloft, blocking the bridge of each Star Destroyer from view. And above and below these two ships, a similar mirroring of CR90 Corvettes moved in tandem. All the while, several dozen tiny craft swarmed in a corkscrew spiral around the ships, now using the forward movement of the ships and the moving gravity field to help each starfighter maintain relative placement as they orbited the ships like so-many detached turrets waiting to be used.
