All of those were, to her mind, targets and she didn't have the least notion which could prove most attractive to an enemy commander. So since she needed them for the battle she chose not to be on any of them.
Protected behind the lines of her ships, floating safely at a distance too great for maximum weapon firepower, and moving at a very leisurely pace to keep itself positioned where the least threat to itself existed, was a Carrack Light Cruiser.
Smaller than the heavies she had deployed for this battle, more lightly armed and almost as old as many of them, the Carrack was famous for one thing only: They had a modular life support system that made crew survivability a near certainty in high numbers. Often rescue vessels would pull live crewmen from a Carrack's debris blown completely apart in conflicts.
That made them the transport of choice for planetary governors, imperial politicians, and of course Moffs - all of them who could afford it and had a cautious bent. Nabiki, who was or had been all three of those, had owned hers for a long time.
This wasn't that one. Her own had several modifications for added comfort and was a bit too distinctive, unfortunately. So she had forgone it's familiar halls and purchased this spare. She sat in a seat on the flag bridge dressed from neck to toe in a fully sealed vac suit, comlink and emergency signal on her belt within easy reach, and helmet in her lap. The minute her ship came under fire she was planning to put the silvered fishbowl style helmet on, even if the speakers did garble her voice somewhat.
No, as far as she was concerned, cowardice was a virtue, except in subordinates, of course.
Her Carrack added what firepower it could, sniping at range that reduced the punch of each hit, but allowed Moff Tendo to feel safer.
Said Tendo scowled, seeing where this battle was going. She didn't like it, they were expensive, but, "deploy the fighters," she commanded.
===========
Shampoo was happy. Five freighters had given up and her boarding parties had taken them effortlessly. Even now, they were maneuvering to begin the long, deliberately short and fractured hyperjumps out, planned to confuse their trail against pursuit before they set off for their real destinations.
That was over half of this cargo convoy practically in her boyfriend's hands.
"Helm, bring us above elliptic. Stand by Ion Control... Fire!"
Nabiki's admiral was good at many things and excellent at some - but fleet tactics were not among them. He'd arrayed the ion shielded ships imperfectly as blockers, that kept more of his own turbolasers silent than they kept ion guns out.
Shampoo's flagship, the Bonbori, rose above the two-dimensional formation and got a clear shot at one of the Dreadnoughts beyond, slicing effortlessly through its shields and pounding ionization through the controls - imperfectly and incompletely as yet, not enough to paralyze, but enough to set it reeling out of formation to where the rest of the Flamberge ships could finish the job.
Right now their turbolasers were pounding one of the approaching liners, hoping to overload the shields, but so far they'd been holding up remarkably well.
The purple-tressed Jedi eyed the approaching corvettes and accompaniment with a wary eye. That and the constantly accelerating bulk cruiser were causing her to doubt whether she should remain to finish the battle. Engagements at point blank range always meant more intense damage and she could lose coordination very swiftly.
"Admiral!" A voice called her attention to multiple small objects appearing on the tac board.
Five squadrons of TIEs were issuing forth. They'd only been in imperial service a short time and already the massed fighter attack was becoming one of the Imperial Navy's trademark operations, even if so far it was mostly just in parades to wow planetary populations.
Shampoo's face scrunched up in a pout. She disliked retreating.
===========
"They're what?" Captain Mancuso demanded.
"That's what the marines keep saying, sir. The boarders are using stun rifles and stun grenades. No lethal weapons of any kind."
"Why aren't they trying to kill us?" Mancuso mumbled to himself. "Why invade with a few thousand droids and not..." Bart sprang into action. "Hail their ship, get their captain on the horn. Something's funny about this."
Some systems were gradually returning as the ion charges faded, but with the weight of attacking droids forcing their way through the compartments they weren't going to last long enough to return to fighting before the droids had their bridge. Talking was an option.
They expected to get a ship captain. What they got was a Jedi.
"Ma'am," Bart Mancuso removed his uniform cap respectfully, along with his bridge crew. "I'm sorry. I had no idea the Jedi were behind this." He drew himself taller and straighter. "I would like to proffer my surrender, ma'am. What the Empire's done to the Jedi is a shame, and I've never been able to support it. Can we offer you any assistance?"
Shampoo smiled with genuine warmth as she could feel of the officer's sincerity. "We have battle going on, captain. Perhaps you join us? Serve Jedi?"
It was coincidence, but a remarkable one that the disruptive ionization of their hull faded in that moment. At an unseen command the droids stopped fighting and started helping their downed marines to awaken.
Captain Mancuso snapped to his men. "You heard the lady! Power to the drive and weapons. Get those shield back up. Helm, bring us around. There's a battle going on!"
The tac board came alive, and with one glance he appraised it.
"Miss Jedi, switch your fire to those incoming small-fry. They'll cause a hell of a disaster if they get among your ships and those freighters." He spied the fighters. "Have you got tractor beams?"
"Yes, we have."
"I don't imagine you've got lasers, but you can nab a fighter with a tractor beam as easily as anything. Once you got him you can nail him even with a turbolaser."
A catty grin. "Shampoo like!" She thought for a second, the Force was prompting her. Then she got the point. "Captain Mancuso now Commodore Mancuso. Cruisers to follow his command."
Bart was not a wimp. It was a dream come true, and he'd spent a lifetime preparing for such a task. He didn't waste time introspecting about it as data feeds established by the Jedi's command began to flood his board with information. "You there, Naginata, get your butt over here." He indicated the spot on his tac display, trusting on the computers to convey the coordinates.
===========
Nabiki's stony face hid a heartfelt scowl.
All of a sudden the pace of the battle had switched and she didn't like that a bit. She was about to order a retreat when the nav point her Carrack was lingering near was suddenly blotted out as it disgorged from hyperspace a tremendous mass of starship.
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(Posted Wed, 24 Mar 2004 19:09)
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