ARC Enemies

Three ARC-170 fighters leapt into realspace and immediately keyed in their sensor systems as they scanned the area around them for signs of activity.
“This is Gamma Three, I've got nothing on scope.”
“Gamma Two here, confirmed. Not reading anything, though those asteroids out to starward might be blocking our scans.”
Lieutenant Gran Torval looked over his own systems once again, confirming what his wingmen were telling him. “Copy that. Hodge, can you confirm anything within the asteroids?”
“Sweep says we're clean Lieutenant.” called back Davri Hodge from his cockpit. “Not getting any reading from the asteroids, there could be something there but unless you want to go fly around in that mess we're not going to know.”
Gran considered his options for a moment, he could order his flight into the asteroids to check out the possibility of any hostile presence, this was the stretch of the trade lane that had been getting hit over the last few months and was the main reason why his squadron, an element of the 73rd Heavy Reconnaissance Group, was on station escorting the convoys passing through this region. He opted to call in the convoy. Its two light cruisers and escort frigate and their accompanying fighters would be more than enough to deal with any pirate threat.
“Roger that, alright Gamma Flight, maintain formation while I signal the convoy.” Gran switched over his com gear to the convoy's frequency. “Convoy leader, this is Gamma One, you're clear for egress into the transit zone.”
“This is the Havranek, we copy Gamma One, convoy will jump in five seconds.”
The convoy would take several minutes to arrive at the current point, Gamma Flight's job would be to continue along the current path and scout ahead for the convoy. However that asteroid field was going to keep nagging at him.
“Gamma Flight, change course to starward by one-five degrees. Let's make sure we're between that rock field and the convoy.”
He received acknowledgments from both his wingmen and adjusted his fighter's course appropriately.
“Getting a little paranoid Lieutenant?” Davri inquired idly from his post behind Gran.
“Just being careful. I don't want any surprises.”
“Don't worry Lieutenant.” called their rear gunner of the ship's comlink. “I've got our six covered.”
“That's about the only thing you have covered.” retorted Davri idly.
“Alright that's enough.” Gran cut in before the inevitable argument could reconvene. “Let's just do our job and get out of here as quickly as possible.”
“Roger that.” Davri replied. “Hyperspace anomaly detected, convoy dropping back to realspace.”
The convoy jumped into realspace in their protective alignment. At its forward most portion sat a single Carrack light cruiser, in the center of the formation was a Nebulon-B escort frigate, and at the rear sat another Carrack. On either flank, two groups of three more ARC-170 fighters—the rest of Gran's squadron—maintained escort positions. There would be three more ARCs at the last jump point, waiting to ensure that the convoy was not being shadowed.
“Gamma One, this is Epsilon One, all's well.”
“Delta One here, no problems leader.”
“Copy that.” Grav replied to his flight leaders. “Sigma flight was alright?”
“A little pissed they got left behind this time.” chuckled Delta One.
“Gamma will take chase position once they arrive.” Gran said. “That should satisfy them. Situation is as follows: sensor sweep is clear, though the asteroids are masking our sensors so there may be hostiles hiding in the rocks.”
“Want us to do a sweep?” inquired Delta One.
“Wait one, contacting Havranek.” Gran switched his comlink over to the escort frigate's frequency. “Havranek, this is Gamma One, asteroids are interfering with sensor sweeps. Delta One requesting permission to perform visual inspection.”
Gran waited for a moment before the response came back. “Gamma One, Havranek authorizes Delta Flight to conduct flyby. Gamma Flight will assume Delta's position until Sigma and Delta rejoin the convoy.”
“Copy that Havranek, Gamma One out.” he switched back over to the squadron channel. “Alright, Delta you're cleared to conduct a flyby on the asteroids. Gamma will take up your position until you rejoin.”
“Copy that, Delta Flight breaking off.”
The three ARCs of Delta Flight peeled away from the convoy and accelerated to cruising speed as Gamma Flight pulled into the position previously occupied by Delta.
“Think they'll find anything?” Davri asked disinterestedly.
“I hope not.” replied Gran. “This convoy duty is dull enough without getting anyone killed over it.”
“Come on.” piped up the rear gunner eagerly. “Don't you want to see some action?”
“These Rebels are proving resourceful and dangerous.” Gran countered. “They've managed to knock out several convoys in the past months since they first became active.”
“That's just because they keep stealing our kit.” the rear gunner said in response. “Throw them in some old junkers and they'll fall apart.”
Davri chuckled. “Kid, you've never seen action so I'm going to pretend you're not making a complete nerf of yourself.”
Further discourse was cut off as Delta opened up on all frequencies. “Hostiles, repeat hostiles are engaging, we have weapons fire!”
“Copy that, Havranek, Gamma and Epsilon flights are moving to assist Delta.”
“Received Gamma, preparing to launch TIE fighters. Torrents are launching from the Crusade and Adaga. Switch over to combat frequencies.”
“I copy.” he keyed in the appropriate frequency and as Davri handled navigating the ARC, pulling it into line to move to assist Delta.”
“Gamma and Epsilon flights, redirect to intercept new threats spaceward.”
Gran checked his sensors and swore. There were more ships coming in from the spaceward side of the convoy. Assault transports and fighters, they were closer to the convoy than the asteroids. He scanned the asteroids quickly and swore again, there were a dozen enemy fighters engaging Delta and as he watched, one of Delta's blips died out.
“Havranek, Delta needs help.”
“We're aware of that Gamma, TIEs are moving to assist. Engage new targets with V-19s.”
Gran swore. “Copy that. Epsilon, form on Gamma, we're engaging the ATRs.”
“This is Delta One we're outmatched here, I have two, repeat two light capital ships engaging us in addition to the fighters.”
Gran scanned his sensors again. Why wasn't he seeing them? Capital ships should've lit up his screen like a New Years fireworks display.
“Havranek, can you confirm Delta's report?”
“We have intermittent readings on what might be corvette or frigate analogue vessels in their vicinity, our TIEs are closing in now.”
Another of Delta's blips blanked out and Gran slammed his fist into the side console. “Dammit. Davri, give me a scan of those incoming Rebel ships.”
“Assault transports, R-41s and Y-wings...really ugly Y-wings.” Davri replied. “Looks like the Rebels stripped them down.”
“Torrent leader, can you deal with the ATRs and those fighters ahead of us?”
“We can handle them Gamma.” came the V-19 flight leader. “Help Delta.”
Helping Delta was something of a forlorn hope at this point Gran though as he watched Delta One's ARC blazing away from his pursuers at high speed. They were maintaining the distance very well, too well for comfort honestly, well within missile range if they had missiles.
“Delta One, make for the Havranek we'll move to intercept.”
A new voice joined the line then. “This is Sigma One, where do you want us?”
“This is Gamma One, Sigma, move to assist Delta, you're closer. Epsilon and Gamma moving to support you.”
“Copied and acknowledged, moving to assist.”
Gran looked down and watched as the twenty-four TIEs from the Havranek closed with Delta One's pursuers. His concern turned to horror as he finally got a target lock on one of the two alleged capital ships.
“Stang, Havranek, pull your TIEs back, they have a DP20 frigate, repeat, they have a gunship!”
“We see it, TIEs will continue to engage.” replied the Havranek controller.
“They're going to be torn apart.” muttered Davri.
“Do we have an ID on those fighters yet?”
“Negative, their jamming is good. As good as ours actually.”
“Delta One, can you confirm visually what you're up against?” Gran called over the link, hoping that Delta One wasn't about to get a missile up his tail pipes.
“DP20 frigate and a Marauder corvette, the fighters are ARC-170s, the TIEs aren't going to be able to target them, I have my coms pushed to the max just to get through the jamming.”
ARC-170s? The Rebels had those? The frigate and corvette weren't very surprising, but the fighters were. Nearly two decades after their introduction, the ARCs were still considered among the best fighters in the galaxy. Granted Incom kept boasting that they were close to developing a newer and better version. How you could improve upon the ARC though, Gran couldn't begin to guess.
Gamma and Epsilon roared through the convoy, the freighters, tankers, and haulers had all closed in around the escort frigate and the two cruisers were now pulling away to engage the oncoming capital ships. The fighters chasing Delta One broke off as Sigma closed the gap and Delta One formed up with the reinforcements. The four fighters soared past the TIEs, moving to join with Gamma and Epsilon.
“What the hell is command doing?” Delta One asked. “Those TIEs are going to be torn to pieces.”
“They say they'll be able to handle themselves.”
“Spit.” replied Delta One. “They're going to be annihilated if they get too close to that frigate.”
Gran was inclined to agree, they'd already lost two of their own heavy fighters. Why the Havranek thought the lighter TIEs would fair any better against the heavy fighters and capital ships was beyond him.
“Alright, form up and let's get a lock on that frigate. We might be able to give it something to think about.”
“We going for a torpedo run?” Davri asked over the com.
“That's affirmative. All ships, slave your targeting computer to mine.”
The nine remaining members of his squadron confirmed the order and Davri affirmed that he was receiving telemetry from the others.
“Alright, fire on my mark.” Gran said as he locked onto the frigate. “Mark.”
Twenty torpedoes sailed from the ten fighters and towards the frigate. The capital ship was forced to choose between fending off the attacking TIEs or switching over to anti-ordnance. It chose anti-ordnance ultimately, leaving the fighters to the corvette and ARCs which jumped in amidst the TIEs and began using their sturdier construction to great effect. Still the TIEs were more manueverable than the lumbering ARC-170s, Y-wings, and R-41s and though they were taking a beating, they were giving a good blow for blow. That was when Gran and his ARCs joined the fray and began weaving in and out around the opposing fighters. He dove and twisted, blasting a Y-wing to pieces, its starboard engine nacelle flying off into space as he banked away and came around to engage head to head with an enemy ARC. Seeing the heavy fighter flying with the Rebellion was a rude shock, the shields were powerful enough to absorb the shots from Gran's own heavy cannons as it returned his fire and they sailed past one another and their rear gunners peppered the rear shields for good measure.
“That gunship is going to give us a lot of grief.” Davri snarled as he cycled through their targets. “It just nailed the last of the torpedoes.”
“Unless it wants to shoot its own fighters it isn't.” Gran replied as he took their fighter through a tight series of spiraling banks to get the enemy off their tail.
“Gunner, shoot the kriffing bastard!”
“I'm trying sir, his forward shields are reinforced!”
Gran swore and reinforced their own rear shields. The Rebels wanted to play hardball? Fine.
“Delta, Sigma, Gamma, Epsilon, break contact and engage that corvette! Torpedoes away!”
He got a series of confirmations and watched as his units all broke from their engagements and loosed a volley of torpedoes at the enemy corvette. Its gunners were too preoccupied with the TIEs to notice the sudden barrage of warheads sailed towards it. The first few struck shields, but then more and more hit home and the shields buckled and Gran grinned as several torpedoes struck the hangar and neck section. Gaping holes appeared in the ship's hull and it began to vent atmosphere. It did the only thing it could do under the sustained torpedo and starfighter attack, blurring with pseudo-motion as it leapt to hyperspace and vanished from the battle. It was a risk, the hull damage could prove fatal for the warship. Gran for one hoped it tore itself apart before it ever left hyperspace.
“Alright, one cap ship has vacated the premises gentlemen, get these fighters!”
“Oh space,” Davri swore. “Missiles!”
The Rebel frigate had just loosed its own volley of concussion missiles and the deadly fast warheads were darting into the swirling melee of ARCs and TIEs, spearing Imperial ships left and right. Gran triggered chaff and flares as a target lock acquired them and two missiles came after their fighter. The flare struck one of the warheads, detonating it before it could find them but the second missile ignored the countermeasures and slammed into the rear of the ARC-170's hull. The last thing Gran remembered as his gunner's terrified scream and Davri swearing before he slammed his head against the console and lost consciousness.
Gran blinked through the stinging pain forming behind his eyes as he looked up at the bright lights of the overhead. He blinked a few times before sitting up and looking around. He was in a medbay...but these didn't look like Imperial medics. His features froze as a female bothan turned towards him. Stang. These were Rebels.
She came up to him and ran a scanner over his body before nodding.
“You'll be fine pilot, you're lucky.”
He looked at her dubiously. “My crew?”
“You were the only survivor from your fighter, we did capture several other pilots though from your unit.”
Gran sat up and leaned forwards, touching his head. “What happened to the convoy?”
“After you chased off our corvette our assault transports and fighters managed to hit your escort ships, we destroyed the frigate and were able to capture several of the freighters in the convoy before the rest jumped into hyperspace...I'm afraid most of your fighters were abandoned and either surrendered or fought to the death...though most of the heavy fighters managed to escape.”
Gran smiled. At least his men were safe...those that had survived at any rate.
The bothan medic turned as a twi'lek in a pilot's jumpsuit entered the medic bay.
“Can I help you Lieutenant?”
“I was told that one of the ARC pilots was here.”
She indicated Gran who sat up straighter as the enemy pilot came towards him and extended his hand.
“Lieutenant Karn Yarris, Shark Six, I was the second in command of the 170s you flew against.”
Gran looked at the alien's hand for a moment before reaching out and clasping it.
“Lieutenant Gran Tantos, Amber Lead and Gamma One. Sounds like you got the better of us.”
Lieutenant Yarris snorted, his headtails rippling. “Hardly, you kicked our teeth in pretty badly. We lost eight fighters, three of them Sharks, to you guys.”
“How many of my men made it?” inquired Gran.
“I saw seven of your 170s make the jump once the convoy got clear. You were the only one we captured alive as far as I know.”
Gran heaved a sigh. That meant that he'd lost two more ships—six crewmen—before the battle was up...and that wasn't counting Davri and his gunner. He looked up at his antagonist.
“What happens now?”
Lieutenant Yarris shrugged. “You are now a prisoner of the Alliance, welcome aboard the Alliance medical frigate Requiem.”
Gran snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “Yeah, lucky me I guess.”
The alien lieutenant smirked. “Don't worry, we have better food than you Imps.”