Project Boussh: Null And Void
by Majick


        Elassar had wanted to think it was all over.
He found himself at the controls of the Red Home,
pulsing away from the doomed ISD. Power coursed
through the ship, and he felt almost one with the
vessel. The fluky connections on the portside
stabilisers were quavering, and he was having to
correct for that. Beside him, Dia was watching the
power flow, balancing it as best she could. Despite
her skill, the battered craft was complaining about
the damage it'd taken. Cubber and the other mechanics
have done the best they can, but the ship taken a hell
of a beating. 
        Not that that was all there was to it.
        They had to rescue the survivors. Pick up as
many of the thousands of escape pods as might happen
to eject from the Admonitor. The Lusankya, the
Peregrine, the other New Republic ships, they were out
of range. The comm systems were still being jammed,
and they'd been ordered to stay away from the battle
until told otherwise. For as long as he'd known his
colleagues, he'd called himself Master of the
Universe. With a battered old transport, and a
slave-rigged shuttle, they had got to save as many
lives as possible. The
name had never seemed less appropriate.

        Kirney was watching the tractor beam, scanning
the sensors to watch for the first ejection of escape
pods from the previously mighty warship. 
Simultaneously, she was trying to crack the
communications block that was preventing forces close
to the Admonitor from communicating with those further
out. 
        Her husband was out there, flying his X-Wing.
She hoped him and his colleagues knew to not fire on
the wounded Admonitor. Myn was a sniper, though.
Trained to focus on the weakest point of any enemy, be
it a stormie in a suit of armour, or a mile long
warship with thirty thousand inhabitants.
        She prayed to whatever higher power might be
listening that the New Republic armed forces would
break off their attack before the damage done to the
Admonitor became irreparable.
        
        Wedge had been fighting the Empire for what
was coming to feel like decades, and he was tired.
Star Destroyers, clones, storm troopers, innumerable
TIE variants... He was the commander-in-chief of the
New Republic's armed forces in this system, and he'd
led his forces to what seemed to be an emphatic 
victory. Now all he had to do was stop the Admonitor
from leaving. It was still under power, remarkably,
and there was the chance of it jumping to hyperspace,
should it get clear of the hyperspace shadows in the
system.
        They needed to inflict more damage, then.
Flicking his comm to broadcast squadron wide, he gave
the order to fire on the Admonitor again. He looked at
the big ship as he dropped his crosshairs over the
engines. As Gate began to calculate a solution, he
wished once again that the teams onboard the Admonitor
could be contacted.

        Out of the corner of his eye, Elassar could
see the comm unit flickering. He let Dia handle it.
The Red Home was creaking audibly now, though he
wasn't sure how much of that was only audible to his
exceptionally sharp hearing.
        
        The comm jamming from the Admonitor was down.
At last. Rapidly, Kirney lunged past Dia and slapped
the comm switch. 
        "Don't fire," she screamed. Even from as far
away as she was, she could see she was too late. 
        The snubfighters had launched their final
salvo of torpedoes, and they were seemingly targeted
on the spine of the ship. In her mind's eye, Kirney
replayed the destruction of the Implacable. This, she
knew, would be worse. Even as she heard Sci giving the
evac orderto the NR teams, and the news that Thrawn was
definitely dead, she knew that this time there would be
no-one to order the Imperial forces to abandon ship.

        It was too late, surely. The torpedoes had
done their damage, and Wedge's sharp eyes could see
the beginnings of stress fractures forming along the
hull of the Admonitor. The ship would break up, and
even without the added stress of Red Squadron pounding
it, he wouldn't have given odds on it lasting beyond
the next ten minutes. He considered his options, and
knew it was up to him to save lives. Not just the
lives of his own team, but of the Imperials aboard as
well. Enemies or not, no one deserved to die
needlessly, if there was any other option. Wedge knew
that only one person aboard the Admonitor had the
clout and rank to give the evacuation order.
      With Gate's help, he made contact with the bridge of
the Admonitor again, praying that the one person who
could save thirty thousand lives was still alive.

      Niriz slapped at the comm button himself, the officer
whose station it was had take a bolt from a rifle
flush in the stomach.
      "What do you want, Antilles? I'm in no mood for Rebel
gloating."
      "I don't want to gloat, Captain. I need you to issue
the evacuation order."
      "So that you can fire on the escape pods and salvage
the Admonitor for yourself? I don't think so
Antilles."
      "Listen to yourself, Niriz! You know all about me.
Surely you know I wouldn't fire on escape pods? As for
the Admonitor, we want to kill it. Blow it up. We have
the means, but we'd like to save your men. We'll
collect everyone who leaves, and we'll take you all to
the world of your choosing. On that you have my word."
      Niriz looked around him. The entire bridge was
listening to the exchange, and all eyes were on him.
With that, the decision left his hands. He sagged, and
had to grab the comms console for support.
      "I'm putting a lot of faith in you Antilles. Your
word had better be worth what I hear it is. Niriz
out."
      Niriz switched channels, and broadcast a message
throughout the Admonitor.
      "This is Captain Niriz. All hands, repeat, all hands,
abandon ship! All hands make your way to an escape
pod, and launch. This is not, repeat, not a drill.
Niriz out."
      He turned and face his bridge crew, who were staring
at him with pale faces.
      "Come on!" he yelled. "I said all hands, and I meant
it. Everyone, now! Move!"

      Elassar's sharp hunters eyes picked out the first of
the escape pods leaving the Admonitor, as he heard the
General ordering the Lusankya and Peregrine in for
rescue operations. Kirney walked silently back to her
station, and powered up the tractor beam. The air was
thick with the worry for the members of the team, but
regardless of who was in the pod, and the dozens that
were beginning to join it, they would save them. It
was the right thing to do.
      
      The pod was tractored into the hangar bay of the
Pulsar Skate, and emptied
quickly. A huge smile spread across Kirney's face as
it was reported that Becki and Corran had been
retrieved from space. Two down...

      Wedge's comm system was alive with questions. What to
do with the Admonitor? It was dying, and needed to be
evacuated. 
      "It's all in hand," he replied, trying to project
conviction where he had almost none. The rescue of the
first evacuees was wonderful news, but Rear Admiral
Tabanne had suggested using the Lusankya's tractors to
guide the ship to land on Terra's moon. 
      "That way," she concluded, "we don't have to worry
too much about
it breaking up. There'll be enough environmental suits
on board for everyone to survive exposure."
      A new voice cuts in. Page and his commandos had
loaded up the Admonitor with explosives. 
      "If you land that thing, it could blow," Page
concluded.
      A cold, hard voice joined the conversation. Sci had
made it aboard the Gaia, and was leading the search
for the escape pods.
      "I heard your transmission to Niriz. He'll get
everyone off. After that, crash land it."
      "Are you sure?" The question had to be asked.
      "I'm sure. Once the people are off, let the damn
thing burn."