Star Wars: From the Clone Wars to Starfaring Heroes

Chapter 27 - Boarding Operation
Christoph's Galaxy, Lysis satellite orbit.

Savarin sector.

The Valkyrie 2929 navigates through a wreckage area composed of broken ships and cold rocks.

The thick armor withstood most of the impacts from micrometeoroids in Lysis's orbit.

The clone sergeant, Cano, felt his bones sway and shake with every evasive maneuver of the gunboat, and the magnetic locks on the soles of his boots were almost shaken off.

The pilot skillfully maneuvered the gunboat toward the drop point.

"'Death' is ready, sir."

Pilot Hawke's hoarse yet calm voice rang out abruptly through the walkie-talkie into Cano's helmet.

Kano looked up.

Bello stood in the crowded troop transport compartment, his heavy combat armor causing him to slightly bend his knees to maintain his balance as he swayed. He stood next to Cano, their shoulder armor almost touching.

If it weren't for the paint scheme and identification number on his battle armor, I really wouldn't have recognized him.

Kano glanced at the head-up display (HUD) icon on the side of the main display screen, counting the glowing dots and identification numbers on each soldier's transponder in the platoon.

Each stable point of light represents a brother who is ready to be thrown into hell at any moment.

“Okay, thank you,” Cano replied calmly to Hawke, then switched to the platoon’s channel, “Are we ready, Bello?”

Bello mounted the DC-15A blaster on his right shoulder guard. "Yes, sir. All weapons are fully charged and everyone is equipped. We found an aging crack in the sealing gasket of one set of breastplates, so it has to be taken out of service. But we have spares, so it won't be a problem."

Kano nodded silently to him and glanced at the troop transport compartment again.

This time he didn't use a HUD.

His gaze swept over the white helmets, each marked with a different symbol, but all bearing the same resolute expression.

When he switched to the Death's channel, the Valkyrie suddenly shook violently, and he had to reach out and grab the cold handle above his head.

"Enemy planes are attacking, brothers!" "Strange Ball" shouted over the public channel. "We'll be on our way to help you shake them off! Good luck!"

Cano heard a fighter jet whizzing past them on their right, and then Hawke slammed the control stick, sending the gunboat plunging sharply into the air.

He felt his whole body suddenly sink, as if his internal organs were about to be squeezed out of his throat.

We've lost weight.

Just above them, Flight Squadron 7 and the robotic Vulture fighters were engaged in a thrilling dogfight amidst the wreckage, with explosions shaking the gunship from above.

However, this means that the separatists have reduced their own particle shields in order to deploy the Vulture fighters.

“‘Death’, this is ‘Valkyrie’,” Cano urgently contacted. “Please respond.”

“'Death' received, 'Valkyrie' please speak.”

“Begin operations, ‘Reaper’,” Kano said nervously, glancing up at the gunboat. Another tremor came from the gunboat. “Repeat, begin operations.”

They must be inserted before the battleship can reactivate its physical deflector shields.

Canoché returned to the platoon's communication channel and heard the expected tense conversation.

"...Stay calm, brother, just like in simulation training..."

"...Hopefully, 'Strange Ball' and his team can handle those flies..."

"...The gravity lock feels a little loose..."

This was to be expected, because even clones get nervous.

In the private space of the helmet, they can talk to each other without being noticed.

Sometimes he would say something darkly humorous to ease tension, and other times he would say something meaningless just to distract himself.

Kano knew that General Skywalker didn't care about any of that.

Sometimes he would even participate in these amusing activities.

As soon as Kano's identification number appeared on the channel, all conversations fell silent as if cut off by a knife.

Although the sounds of gunfire faded into the distance outside the gunboat, their expressions inside grew even more serious, their nerves taut, their fingers unconsciously rubbing the trigger guards, preparing to face the devastating barrage from the Lukri Hook-class battleship's close-in weapon system.

But no shots were fired.

The silence was more suffocating than the gunfire.

Hawke precisely pulled the gunboat back from its sharp dive, the anti-gravity engine humming loudly as it activated the Valkyrie's anti-gravity system. With the help of the powerful thrust of the propellers, the descent force was transformed into a swift, predatory dive, like a raptor swooping down on its prey.

The massive gray hull of the battleship below, covered with turrets, rapidly magnified in the field of vision, and the details became clearer and clearer.

Sensors indicated they had infiltrated beneath the battleship's ray shields.

The shadow of death loomed over them.

"Approaching target—ready, ready, ready!" Hawke roared to the gunners. "Sergeant, have your men hold on tight!"

The standby lights on each gunboat turned a blinding red, and the gunners' knuckles turned white as they gripped the triggers on the control sticks.

A sharp buzzing sound, indicating that energy was being charged, rang out from inside the turret.

Above them, mass-driven launchers clicked heavily with a mechanical thud as they loaded a pair of new rockets flashing a dangerous red light.

For a moment, Kano blocked out all noise and could only hear the unusually clear, calm heartbeat artificially simulated inside his helmet.

dong... dong... dong...

call out-!
The quadruple armor-piercing rockets were launched sequentially from under each wing, like burning meteors trailing bright flames.

Each gunboat fires eight rockets.

The air was instantly filled with the scorching gases from the rocket engine and the pungent smell of ionized trails.

Immediately following were two more muffled explosions, and two larger, heavily armored heavy shock missiles broke free of their restraints and roared out of the launch tubes.

The gunboats followed closely behind, rushing forward along their still-glowing contrails.

Boom boom boom boom——!
The rockets struck their targets with lightning precision, like thunderous punches, and because there were numerous targets, every shot hit its mark.

A huge, silent, orange-red fireball erupted from the point of impact, tearing, twisting, melting, and hurling the thick armor plates like fragile tin foil.

Hot metal fragments rained down on the surrounding void like deadly droplets.

The second, third, and fourth rounds followed in quick succession.

Each hit caused the massive battleship structure to groan and tremble in agony, and the escaping gases and liquids instantly froze into ice crystals in the vacuum, only to be vaporized again by subsequent explosions.

When the final wave of attacks ended, the hull of the Lukri-Hook-class battleship had been completely torn apart, peeled away like broken bones, revealing its vulnerable internal structure with exposed pipes and sparks flying everywhere.

The turret at the gunboat's chin roared and opened fire, high-energy blue-white particle beams sweeping into the dust and smoke, mercilessly cutting into the horde of combat robots pouring out from the breach.

The spherical turret also emitted a deep, continuous rumble as the gunners focused intently on precisely cutting through the thinning armor plates at the breach edges with enhanced composite beams, creating a wider and safer entrance for the boarding troops.

The cutting point gleamed with a blinding white light, and molten metal droplets rolled down like teardrops.

Part of the No. 7 squadron disengaged from the battle, turned, and charged toward the remaining separatist rectifier antenna array.

The shock missile roared from its launcher and struck the "eye" of the Rukri-Hook-class battleship six seconds later. The gunboat then returned to its original attack course. The first batch of gunboats landed, unloaded their crews, and immediately took off, allowing the next gunboat to swoop down and take over their positions.

The engine nozzles of "Valkyrie 2929" adjusted their angles, and following them, the hydraulic system of the hatch on its belly hissed and suddenly opened.

The vacuum outside the cabin instantly sucked out any small, unsecured items inside, and the pressure balance alarm blared sharply.

"Hurry up!"

Cano's voice boomed on the public channel, drowning out the sirens and the roar of engines.

Without hesitation, Kano jumped off the gunboat, and with a "bang," the launcher on his waist fired the grappling hook.

The grappling hook shot out with a sharp whooshing sound.

With a crisp "click," the magnetic hook firmly adhered to the battleship's cold, rough metal hull.

Then, gripping the rappelling harness with one hand, he slid down the rope at breakneck speed, the rope rubbing hot against his glove, oblivious to the silent flashes and flying debris of the intense firefights around him, which resembled festive fireworks.

His world consisted only of the smoke-filled, flame-lit breach below, and the descent speed and distance displayed on his helmet's HUD.

The robot can already be seen on the surface.

Although many robots have been melted, smashed, and destroyed by aerial support, as always, the robots' stiff gait and flickering optical sensors seem endless.

Dozens of his brothers had been hit by the retaliatory fire, their bodies, devoid of life, were bound by safety harnesses and helplessly dragged in space by tangled ropes, like eerie floating corpses in space.

As the clone sergeant landed, the magnetic locks on the soles of his boots activated with a "hum," and he let out a muffled groan, bending his knees to cushion the impact and regain his footing.

The metal deck beneath my feet resonated with the lingering vibrations from the explosion.

Kano stared at the gray markers on the HUD representing his fallen comrades, cursing as he ordered the surviving members of his platoon, "Move! Don't stop! Take cover!"

Stand up, then crouch down, blaster pressed against your cheek, and lead them into a hellish landscape churned by explosions, filled with ionized smoke, laser beams, and deadly shrapnel, each step landing on hot or cold metal fragments as they search for firing positions.

The burst of energy hissed past my ears, striking nearby obstacles and sending sparks flying.

More gunboats swooped down like a swarm of bees returning to their nest. The hum of the anti-gravity devices was faint amidst the sharp whistling of the air escaping from the breach, and hundreds more soldiers in white armor drifted down to the surface like deadly, silent snowflakes.

They kicked up clouds of metallic dust as they landed.

The firefight lasted for several minutes. The platoons advanced methodically toward the breach, like precise machines, moving from one wrecked bunker to another, using the hot white smoke from the incinerators to obscure the robots' aiming systems and cover their movements.

Red and blue energy beams wove a deadly web of death in the void, weaving erratically, but with the help of the gunships' continuous and oppressive air support, their victory was almost a foregone conclusion.

The wreckage of the robot piled up in the tunnel.

Using the cover of a rocket explosion, Boomer's team was the first to reach the entrance, securing their grappling hooks to the edge of the breach with a clang, and then one by one, with clean and efficient movements, they slid down the ropes into the bottomless breach.

Scattered sounds of blast guns and metal clashing could be heard from below.

Kano's squad arrived shortly afterward. The sergeant knelt down and leaned over to examine the situation below, but could see nothing due to the dense, swirling gas and flashing arcs of electricity.

Kano could only see the green bio-signals of the squad below, visible through the smoke on the HUD, and that was enough.

"Stay close to Boomer! Down!" He secured the grappling hook, fastened the rope, took a deep breath, deactivated the magnetic boots, and jumped down without hesitation.

A burst of scalding steam, carrying the metallic and ozone-like smell, assaulted his mask, briefly messing up his HUD, before he passed through.

The feeling of weightlessness returned, and the rope in my hand was my only support.

After descending to a safe distance from the ground, Cano pressed his thumb to cut the rope, the magnetic boots activated with a "hum," and his feet landed heavily on the cold, slightly tilted deck.

The gravitational field appears to be unstable.

He immediately raised his gun and looked around.

In their field of vision were twisted pipes, exposed wires, flickering sparks, and the wary figures of Boomer's team members.

A soldier wielding a rotating blast cannon cleared the way ahead, unleashing a devastating stream of red beams at the end of the corridor, sweeping away an entire company of monotonous electronic combat robots that were attempting to assemble.

Metal fragments and molten plastic rained down.

"We have a few squads here, Boomer?"

As Kano quickly moved behind a half-destroyed control console for cover, he checked the identification numbers of the soldiers present and asked a question.

Boomer peeked out from behind a pipe, turned and glanced at him, then at the last few soldiers entering through the large hole above them, still dripping molten metal. “Three squads, maybe two. The Echo Squad seems to be pinned down in the upper passage.”

“Bello, this is Cano,” Cano called out, brushing away the ice crystals of coolant clinging to his shoulder armor. “Did you hear me?”

“I heard that clearly,” Bello’s voice came through in the background, accompanied by the sound of blaster guns. “We found another way in. A maintenance shaft, a bit narrow, but it leads to the vicinity of the core area.”

Kano acted decisively, ordering, "All squads, report for duty!"

The clone sergeants reported for duty one after another clearly and quickly.

"Raging Torrent Squad, ready!"

"Lava Squad, at the control point!"

"Echo Squad is breaking through the upper blockade!"

Kano counted; there were fourteen voices.

This means that two squads failed to keep up.

He exhaled and said in a deep voice, "'Waterfall Company,' go find the prisoners! 'Little Waterfall Company,' come with me, we're going to the control room!"

Kano's squad moved along the passage at the fastest speed their combat armor allowed, their boots clattering on the metal floor.

As the atmosphere inside the spacecraft rapidly deteriorated and the artificial gravity system malfunctioned, the soldiers began to advance by gliding ten meters at a time in jumps.

They moved as if running on the surface of the moon, each step accompanied by a slight "click" as the magnetic locks were released and a "hum" as the soles of their boots reattached to the deck, their movements efficient and rhythmic.

They came to a crossroads, where malfunctioning lights were flashing on the walls.

They recognized a control panel half-embedded in the wall with a shattered screen, which they could use to determine their exact location and orientation.

Cano's team tacitly split into two groups, holding carbines in a standard crossfire formation, and turned vertically.

One group is attached to the left wall, and the other group occupies the right corner.

Blue and red bursts of energy leaped and weaved through the dimly lit passage like whips of light.

A technician, carrying a heavy tool bag, used the instability of gravity between them to perform a beautiful long-distance gliding jump, landing with a "thud" next to the control panel.

Grab the control panel and quickly open it with a plasma cutter.

Suddenly, sparks flew everywhere.

Half a minute later, the soldier's helmet HUD flashed, transmitting a map and sending a safety signal. The squad continued to advance as if released from a spring.

The boots trod over the cutting debris left by the technicians.

Between running and jumping, Kano glanced at the integrated timer on the HUD.

The entire boarding process took only thirteen minutes.

(End of this chapter)