Project Boussh: Trident
by Majick

"Sithspawn!" Bror Jace spat into his comm.
"Refrain from personal comments," Wedge's voice came over the comm, clear
and cool. "Pick a target, hit them hard, hit them fast."
"Is it a good idea to use the same tactics they are?" Myn asked, to no
reply.

Emily gritted her teeth, well aware that they were flying with the real
pilots now. Josh's remark about the clone pilots had made her jump to the
obvious conclusion: That they were facing four dozen Fels.
"Eight, you're my wing," Tycho's voice, calm and cool, snapped Emily back
into action.
"Affirmative, Five," she said, bringing her X-Wing alongside Tycho's. She
flicked fire control switches, and dropped her target over the lead Avenger.
Getting a solid lock, she squeezed on the trigger, and two proton torpedoes
jetted from the nose of her ship.
The first slammed into the lead Avenger, punching straight into the cockpit,
and detonating the craft in a silent orange explosion. The second torpedo
tracked through the fireball, and acquired its former wingman. The second
TIE exploded as quickly, though this time the torp hit the engines.
"Eight, great shooting."
"Thanks... Shouldn't these things have shields?"
"Eight, One. Yes they should. Let's make them regret not having them on."

Kirney hauled on Morwen's arm. "We have to go," she said.
"But Alison...."
"We can't do anything for her. Now come on!"
Morwen stared back at the door. "We can't leave her!" She turned to face
Kirney, but the redhead was levering at a panel in the floor.
"We have to. Grab hold of this and pull," Kirney replied.
Morwen did so, and the panel, when removed, revealed a ventilation shaft
dropping deep out of sight.
"Down," she said, as she pointed her blaster at the door.
"What's down there?" Morwen asked, staring apprehensively at the black hole.
"Fewer stormies, I hope. It should lead to the garbage compactor. It smells
enough..."
"Joy," Morwen muttered, as she lowered herself into the pit. Before pushing
off, she checked to make sure she still had all her equipment, then threw a
regretful look out the door. She couldn't see her fallen friend, but felt a
stabbing pain in her heart as she pushed off, abandoning her to fates
unknown.
Above her, Kirney dropped a smoke grenade to cover their tracks, then jumped
down the chute.

"You know what I think?" Hobbie said, as he took down another Defender.
"What is it, Seven?" Wedge asked.
"These aren't complete," the Rogue replied. "Or maybe they're clones of
clones?"
"They're not very good," Emily offered, as her quad linked lasers took down
another Avenger. The young Terran had made a point of targeting the Avengers
specifically, claiming that the engines made a nicer explosion than those of
the Defenders.
"Good or not, they're taking time that could be spent pounding on the
_Admonitor_," Tycho offered.
"Could that be why Thrawn sent them out here for? Just to save us hitting
his ship?" Wedge pondered.
"Makes sense to me," Gavin chipped in. Suddenly, a voice cut into the
conversation, transmitting on a widecast.
"Terra Four to all Terran forces. Am beginning assault on the _Admonitor's_
shield generators... from the *outside.*  I am flying a TIE Defender, and
would appreciate it if no-one would shoot me. Feel free to shoot the
_Admonitor_..."
"What the...?" Myn began.
"You heard the man. Red Group, knock these pretenders out of the sky, then
let's go sightseeing on the capital..."
"Face..." Wedge began, his voice part amused, part warning.
"Yub yub, General."

Morwen stood knee deep in the sludge generated by this section of the
_Admonitor_.
"Does it have to smell so bad?" she asked rhetorically. Beside her, Kirney
snorted.
"And aren't there things living in here?" the Terran continued. "I mean, this
is revolting."
"Look, will you just be quiet? I want to get these doors open," Kirney spat.
"I though you knew how to work Imperial systems," Morwen snapped, scraping
something slimy from the arm of her jumpsuit.
"You know," Kirney said, as she spun around. "You'd be surprised how few of
my tutors thought I'd one day be wanting to open a garbage compactor from
the inside."
Morwen stared down at the shorter woman. "Don't lose your temper with me.
I'm not Alison, okay? Whatever your problem with her, don't take it out on
me."
Kirney glowered at her partner. "Just be ready to do your job. We've already
missed a prime chance to take down the computers because of your friend. We
can't risk failing again."

Mike sat in the Defender's pilot's seat, his arm hanging limply by his side,
his breathing slow. Decras flicked switches, channelling power from
sub-systems into the main engines, desperate to do anything that would
override Thrawn's own override. Throughout the procedure he kept note of the
rapidly declining oxygen level in the cockpit. Mike was safe beneath the
breath mask, Decras was not.
Red began to tinge the edge of his eyes as he set the course into the
navicomp. He stared at it blankly for two precious seconds, before realising
the problem. If the navicomp was online, the Imps could just repeat the
override code, and bring the Defender back under their control.
With the last clean breath of air, Decras grabbed the computer and pulled,
the veins on his neck standing out as the console stood fast against his
efforts. Eventually, he felt something give. He almost paused to take a
breath, but instead heaved still more, feeling circuit boards tear, wires
snap, and eventually, the console tore free from the housing. He looked at
the oxygen level, his fading vision barely registering the red bar on the
screen. Lunging desperately, he slammed down on the emergency restart
button, and felt the ship's engines hum back to life. Frantically, he yanked
the stick back so the Defender was pulling away from the _Admonitor_. Then
passed out.

Wedge grinned tightly as the surface of the _Admonitor_ blossomed beneath him.
His torpedoes had found their mark, chewing into the computer network, at
least, according to Gate. Others had peppered the ship at multiple points,
with nearly thirty torpedoes hitting in the first barrage.
Out some from the _Admonitor_, Wedge could see the bulk of the _Lusankya_,
pounding on the second Star Destroyer, ably assisted by the Polearms. Ace
and Master squadrons, meanwhile, were helping the Mendellian rookies dispose
of the remaining TIEs.
As far as Wedge could tell, all seemed to be going well, especially with
more and more of the _Admonitor_'s weapons becoming disabled.
Inside, he hoped, things were going just as well.

"Open the damned doors!" Morwen growled.
"You know, that didn't help the first time, nor the second time, and now
I've lost count, guess what?" Kirney spun around from the wall cavity she'd
uncovered. "It's still not helping!"
"Listen, you're supposed to be the intelligence pro, and yet ever since we
left the damned shuttle, all we've had is you and Alison sniping at each
other. I don't care what went on between you two, you let it interfere with
your mission. We're the amateurs here, remember? By luck and good fortune,
we've made it this far, but you were supposed to help us make it to the end.
Instead, we've lost Alison, and she may be dead!" Tears streamed down
Morwen's face, but she ignored them. "Now either do your damn job, or think
of some other way for us to get out of here."
Kirney stared at her partner for several seconds. Ignoring the smell that
pervaded throughout, she took several deep breaths, before replying,
calmly: "You're right, and I'm sorry. We shouldn't have screwed up like
this. It's my fault, and I'll take responsibility. Now, I should be able to
get this door open." She turned back to the door panel, and poked at several
of the dangling wires. Eventually, she grabbed two, and twisted them
together. The door slid open, only momentarily surprising the blaster-toting
stormtrooper squad about to open it from the other side.

The Defender bucked uncontrollably. Starved of guidance or automatic
control, it jinked and skittered wildly in dead space. Eventually, the
buffeting woke Mike from the semi-trance he'd sunk into. Looking around, at
first groggily, then with an increasing degree of franticness, he realised
that Decras' last gasp tactic seemed to have worked.
Speaking of whom...
Where was he?
Mike twisted as far as he could in his seat, and caught a glimpse of the
miracle Noghri slumped behind him. Grabbing the cycle lock on his safety
straps, he spun it round, and lunged over the back of his seat. Tearing the
facemask from around his head, he slapped it against the Noghri's mouth, and
hammered on Decras' bony chest.
"Hell's bells, Decras. What do you Noghri do for CPR?" he spat.
The Noghri spluttered, before his eyes opened weakly.
"The question rarely comes up. Noghri are dead or alive. There is never
middle ground. Given as how most injuries are incurred in the line of
duty..."
"Gotcha." Mike sat back on his heels, regarding his alien companion
thoughtfully.
"Should you not be flying the ship?" Decras asked, the words rasping in his
throat.
Mike looked at him blankly before suddenly scrambling back into his seat.

"Red Group, Lead. Report."
"Lead, Six. The _Admonitor_'s shields are down on the ventral, and all weapons
are silenced. Do we go top sides?"
"Affirmative, Six. Red Group, listen. Avoid hitting the bridge if possible.
Attack weapons, sensors and communications. And watch out for any TIEs that
get past our friends out there."
"General, this is Rear Admiral Tabanne. Am awaiting your instructions."
"As commander of this expedition, I suggest you stay away from the _Admonitor_
at the moment. We have people on board, and the _Lusankya_ is not known for
pinpoint damage control. If you want to help Colonel Cracken with those
TIEs, go ahead.
"Acknowledged."
"Red Group, go topside."

Between them, Mike and Decras managed to wrestle the reluctant Defender back
aboard the _Admonitor_, finally docking in the unshielded ventral docking bay.
The Defender was a write-off, battle damage and a poor landing being the
final insults on a formerly proud and powerful craft. Mike and Decras
abandoned dignity in their departure from the creaking wreck, and avoided
each others eyes for a short spell afterwards.
"What level are we on?" Mike asked.
"Garbage level," Decras replied.
"Really?"
"Yes. The Imperial Navy wanted the main docking bay to be kept separate from
other important areas, so it is cushioned on all sides by the garage
compactors."
Mike paused to process this information. "I don't think there's much we can
do around here. We need to get back to the Red Home, and wait for the
others."
"Agreed." They walked towards the hangar doors. Mike noted the lack of
personnel, but Decras pointed out that at battle stations, the hangar is
abandoned to allow the TIEs to take off. "Wait," Decras said, as they
reached the door. "Stormtroopers passing by, on the other side."
Mike hefted his lightsabre. "More mayhem?"
Decras looked at the half-crippled Terran, then down at his own wounded leg.
He rubbed thoughtfully at the burn on his throat, and stared pointedly at
Mike's broken arm.
Mike followed his gaze, before laughing. "I think that medikit you used was
stormtrooper grade. I'm fine to fight, thanks to the painkillers. I might
want all traces of them removed form my system when I get a chance, 'cos
nothing that powerful will be good for me in the long run, but..."
"Very well. But we must be careful. Regardless of how you may feel, we are
tired and injured. And outnumbered."
"Bring it on," Mike said, a feral smile splitting his bloodied lips.

Morwen and Kirney slowly raised their hands as the stormtroopers pointed
their rifles at them. One of the troopers walked forward, and frisked them
quickly for hidden equipment.
Then the gunfire started.
From their position, all the slicer team could do was hear, but it sounded
good. Dopplered voices cried out in pain, their voices echoing over the
comlink of the trooper frisking them. They saw the guards at the door open
fire, before one fell sideways, a knife protruding from his armoured chest.
He fell face down into the garbage sludge, and Morwen knew he was dead.
Having taken a dunk in the semi-fluid substance herself, she knew it was a
fate a live person would have fought to avoid.
Kirney, meanwhile, had sprung into action. Jabbing her elbow up sharply, she
dug the point of it into the stormtroopers throat, crushing his windpipe.
The trooper staggered back, frantically clutching at his neck. Kirney
grabbed his rifle, before shoving the dying man backwards, into the sludge.
"Stop, or I fire!" The last stormtrooper had his rifle pointed at the two
women, and Kirney threw down her rifle in disgust. From the doorway, she
could hear her would be saviours reluctantly throwing down their own
weaponry. Then:
"Wait! Sto-" The trooper managed, trying to bring his rifle around.
Unfortunately for him, the long weapon banged against the doorframe.
Unfortunately for him, a lightsabre blade was stabbing deep into his chest,
boiling away the armour, cauterising his flesh as it burnt through. He
screamed once, before being hit with a stun blast.
"What in the names of the seven hells of the Sith?" came a distinctly
English voice from the doorway. The slicer team at first had trouble
recognising their rescuer, until a Noghri slipped past his immobile form and
into the garbage compactor.
"Mike?" Kirney asked incredulously.
"Yeah, what the hell are you doing here?"
"Long story," Morwen said, waving her had dismissively. "What in space
happened to you?"
"Long story," Mike said. "We have to get out of here. Where's Alison?"
Morwen and Kirney shared a frustrated look, their animosity temporarily on
hold.
"We had to leave her," Kirney said, her voice low and quiet.
"She was captured?" Decras asked. On Morwen's nod, he added, "She will be on
the bridge. I heard one of the troopers say it just now."
"Let me check," said Mike, unshipping his comlink. "Terra Four to all
_Admonitor_ forces. Is anyone on the bridge?"
"We're in the middle of a lightfight here, Four." It was Sci's voice, his
snapped off statement confirmed by the blasters whining in the background.
"Be quick."
"Allow me" came a softer, feminine voice. "Four, this is Slicer Two," Winter
identified herself. "What do you want?"
"Is Terra Eleven there? She was captured."
"No. She was not among the prisoners we've released. She may be being
brought here, but we have killed Thrawn, and procedures may have been
halted."
"Sithspawn, thank you, Two. Four, out." He snapped off the comlink, and
looked at his three companions. "What now?"
Kirney took charge immediately. "We run," she said. "We get back to the
transports, and get the Sithspit out of here."
Morwen looked unhappy, but nodded. "Our equipment is wrecked, you two don't
look much better. Can we at least ask the others to look out for her?"
"Of course," Kirney said, with a terse nod. She rattled off a barrage of
orders to the other boarding teams, though Mike doubted, from the way Winter
had said prisoners, that many of the Terran forces were left roaming the
ship.
"Now," she said, looking around. "We get out of here."
The four infiltrators headed out of the garbage compactor, and moved towards
the nearest turbolift.