Star Wars: Tie Fighter | End of the War

Chapter VIII. Theft

Correlia

Midnight

A GR-75 transport loaded with Rebel Infantry flies down toward a repulsor-lifted hangar bay, floating above the ocean of Correlia.

"This is GR-7724 requesting permission to dock at testing dock oh-four, over." The Rebel Ship officer says.

"GR-7724, what is your cargo, over?" The Imperial command officer asks.

"Supplies and Personell, over."

"GR-7724 clear to dock on platform one, over."

"Affirmative."

The shuttle lands on the platform, lowering a docking ramp, a group of disguised men exiting with boxes full of rations and equipment.

A pair of army troopers followed by an Imperial officer in black-fitted officers clothing walks up to the  men. "We were not informed of any cargo shipments today, are you sure this is not a mistake?" He asks.

"We were told to arrive and deliver the supplies today by the governor, must be a mix up, we'll be sure to mention this to the governor, but we have to be out quick, so let's just-" The Rebel pulls out a blaster pistol and kills the officer as two more pull out rifles and blast the Army troopers.

"Squad one, destroy their communications, Squads two and Three, make your way to the hangar!" The Rebel orders, dashing toward the turbolift.

The squad of pilots then exits, following the soldiers with blasters out, making their way through the untrained groups of Imperial chaff infantry, before meeting a squad of Stormtroopers in front of the only turbo-lift, being outgunned and outmanned by the elite soldiers.

"Stormtroopers! We need more firepower to get past them!" The officer says, a soldier peeking out for a half second before getting nailed in the head by a blaster, and falling limp to the floor.

"Arm all thermal detonators! Three! Two! One! Throw!" The officer orders, the four men to throw grenades through the hail of blaster fire, one getting thrown back and taking out two men before the Stormtroopers all get killed by the blast force.

"Move! Call for more men!"

The Rebel officer commanding the GR-75 hums a tune as he waits for the signal to leave, more infantry enter the dock as he gazes out into space, seeing an odd missing patch of stars in the night sky. He immediately notices the figure of a Venator in space, opening the comm. "Venator right above us! It's a trap!"

"It's a trap?!" The officer says, just as the group enters the hangar, to see a squadron of fighters, the pilots entering the fighters and blasting out of the hangar.

"Tempest group, prepare for immediate combat, incoming fighters in sector 2." Tempest leader says as he watches the GR-75 get blown to smithereens by a pair of heavy turbolasers aboard the Venator, the station following in the destruction, killing dozens of Imperials and Rebels.

"Those aren't damn V-Wings... What are those?" Tempest 3 asks, concerned.

The fighters are revealed in the light of the city below, advanced fighters made up of a cockpit with two attached laser cannons and two large solar wings, much more maneuverable, fast and powerful than the prototype fighters the Rebels stole.

"This is LN-592 to Rebel scum, you have ten seconds to surrender before you are all dead." The lead pilot says, marked by a green stripe on the wing strut.

"Attention Imperial Slime, this is Captain Shack of the Liberation, pull off of our squadron or your ship, crew and every one of your new toys inside it will perish." Shack surprisingly says, just exiting hyperspace above the Imperial Venator, aiming the SPHAT dead center on the hull.

"The Liberation? That Venator that's been pillaging the outer rim? We can't fight that things fleet, power down and surrender, taking down a measly squadron is not worth the loss of our entire ship and whatever civilians die on the ground from rubble." The Venators Commodore says, opening a comm to the Rebel command cruiser. "We're pulling off, we know we can't win this fight, just don't end more innocent lives."

"Good, god, the first Imperial who knows a fight they can't win. Anyway, get your fighters off our squadron and I won't write my name across your hull."

"They're already off." The officer says.

"Good, now screw off so those A-Wings can dock aboard my ship."

The Imperial Venator slowly backs up, just as the squadrons of A-Wings enter the side hangar of the Liberation, docking as the Liberation immediately jumps into hyperspace.