Padme gulled at the fact she had to give away her plasma again. But what the Trade Federation was doing was unforgivable and couldn't be let stand. They were literally selling the Naboo into slavery! How could they? Naboo was peaceful! They hadn't done something like that for... At least a century!
Padme Couldn't remember the specifics of her politics class, but she was pretty sure that the Naboo had nothing to do with slaves or slavery, and neither should the Republic. In fact, she was pretty sure that it was outright illegal! She made sure that everyone was paid their legal wage in proper Naboo currency, even the Gungan, the few that worked in the Naboo plasma industry, or whatever little thing they wanted to do. Not that their were that many in Theed where they were practically an urban legend. In fact, as queen she hadn't even really realized that they had existed.
Of course, her citizens got a stipend from the sales of plasma on the planet in republic credits, but there was nothing she could do about that. She wanted to pay them in proper Naboo script, but that would be illegal. So she had to compromise where she could.
Padme remembered her history of the founding, the Naboo had found this world and it's primitives, bought it, and then the Gungun had for the most part left. Sure, there were fights throughout the history, but there were barely any Gungun to fight! And what where the Feds doing to those pour creatures? Had they already enslaved their entire population?
She reviewed the contract one more time. She had sold off almost 75% of Naboo's plasma in priority sales to Chandrilla with that 75% being shipped by Eriudu transportation. They would also be able to get up to 25% or those same priority sales should they request it, or so the contract was worded. She had the time while her lead rented ** treaty cruiser.
Technically, this ship was not 'responding to a pirate threat' as Eruidu was not supposed to 'do that' anymore. Not that this militaristic cousin listened. Bristling with Medium turbolasers, quad laser cannons, and many other military only hardware, it was a brutalistic tool of war, and nothing more. 'Transitioning' to Naboo where it would stay running 'patrols' in system for several months before returning to Eruidu. It and it's fleet, would do this run repeatedly over the next several years. She feared the move would bring the pirates and scum, not send them fleeing.
Finishing reading the contract for, hundred, thousand, Nth time?, brought her that much closer to Naboo and it's freedom, but when she looked out the window they were still in hyperspace. So she moved to the bridge of the ship from her 'opulent' private wash closet with a bed. Because that's only what the tiny room could be. Still, it wasn't the cramped beds of the barracks 'racks' she had seen in passing.
Looking out from the much better view of the transparent Durasteel windows of the bridge she could help but let a thrill of fear climb up her spine. She couldn't believe she was doing this, she shouldn't be doing this! She was a Naboo! They didn't this! Whatever this was, it should not happen...
"Three minutes to our hyperspace exit Queen Amidala." Said the captain, in spite her nerves she nodded and thanked him. She wished her handmaids where here, but it had been decided that it was best if they were spread throughout the fleet while outfitted in full regalia. What few Naboo where left outside Naboo where also spread throughout the fleet, none of them knowing which one held the real Queen. Though only Sabe was truly indistinguishable. Though the unrepentant maid had grown another centimeter on her, it was nothing Padme couldn't disguise with platforms... she didn't tell Sabe about...
"One minute to hyperspace window." Stated a helmsman calmly, and almost quietly but with authority. It was one of the things that they always got wrong in holovids and she felt it was surreal to here a quiet almost whisper across the entire command deck. It felt almost painful to disturb that quietness, and almost as painful not too.
"Exiting hyperspace in 3, 2... in real." Amidala almost wondered where the one went, but understood almost immediately as the command deck started to buzz. No less than 12 com officers directed traffic as ships appeared in 'real' as the Navy officers called it.
"I want to know where those freight donuts are! Give me intel." Said the admiral. It felt like he yelled even though he was speaking at a normal volume. But in the quiet whispers it might as well have been a scream. I know understood why they all whispered though, as the whispered cacophony reached a fevered pitch. Now only those speaking at normal volume could be heard above those whispering near each other, and the commander had to speak in an authoritative not real to be heard above that.
"Should we be worried vice admiral?" I asked the acting admiral of our fleet. The volume of her own voice, speaking at normal tone for her, which may have been a little loud due to her role as queen felt like she screamed into the abyss. But it was not truly all that loud, she still winced at her own volume though. "If we aren't already being shot at, than no, we don't have anything to worry about." "I though they had vultures flying flights at all times, but I don't see anything, and that worries me." He said.
"Admiral, they are holding in blockade pattern, low orbit, edge of each others guns in a standard cover pattern. No flights out, sir." Said a sensors officer. They were having a whispered conversation with the comms off. triple checking their information.
"Well, it's probably a trap, but even if it isn't, we have to spring it anyway." Stated the admiral. He had one job, free Naboo. Once they were groundside they would be able to take back things from the droids easily enough. Droids didn't know the meaning of tactics, and while their numbers might be immense, there wasn't much they could do against a real military. Still, facing off against those upgunned freighters wasn't going to be easy. It was a poor man's battlecruiser, but it was still a battlecruiser. He would need to drive the dreadnaughts in close to get out of their guns, but once he was inside their guard his naughts' would be able to bunch out their guns easily.
"All power to engines, and find the lead hulk. If we can take it out before they can make a handshake we can cripple them. They won't be able to send Vultures to protect the donuts that they don't already have. And none of those donuts have enough vultures to destroy our fleet individually. There's a reason they launch and run from raiders. Once we don't have to worry about vultures space is ours, I don't care how many turbolasers you stick on a freighter, it's still a freighter." Said the admiral. Amidala was starting to feel like a third wheel, the admiral had things in hand. But she would still stay and fight.
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"Sir, what about shields? We won't last long against their blaster fire." Said a junior officer. "We won't last long against their turbolaser shields. We need to get in to fist fighting range where they can't punch us with their guns. Also, get our Corellion friends in those s and s on the line. I want them to get in the shield around the command sphere and hang just outside the hangers. Then the 's in the fishbowl and they can't do anything about it. It isn't our fault they didn't keep a few flights to keep us outside our range." Stated the admiral.
To Amidala it sounded like a fine strategy. It also sounded like an elaborate suicide, but she wasn't in command. She also quickly ran the numbers and knew she didn't have the fleet for this kind of engagement. She was about to voice her opinion when one of the sensor officers spoke up. "We've analyzed the data, this is the lead ship that all the other's are receiving signals from. However, all the other ships are still communicating with each other. Even if we take it down, we may have no more than 6 hours before they reestablish comms, sir." Stated the officer.
"Six hours? Do you realize what six hours are in battle son?" Asked the admiral incredulously. "I understand it might seem short, sir. But it might have been at least 24 hours had they not already kept a handshake protocol. If they could even keep that protocol out of our hands with us already here, sir." Stated the officer. That made sense to Amidala. Handshake protocols could take a very long time, lines that weren't already secure could take a week before they were completely secured during holocalls for diplomatic meetings.
"Good answer, and also completely wrong. we could have this battle done and dusted, and still have a few meals in between now and then, regardless of which way this battle goes. Son, this is what we call a moving battle. This isn't some long engagement where we line our ships up in orderly formations and then politely shoot at each other. No, we go in full burn, kick them in their respective reproductive organs and other sensitive spots, and burn away as fast as we can if that doesn't make em' bend over and beg. You understand me?" Said the admiral. "Yes, sir!" came the reply from the bridge staff.
Huh, thought Amidala. She had never thought about that way, and still didn't get much. She was just glad that they were all here for Naboo, and could apparently win, even with bully tactics.
How wrong she was.
It took them 30 minutes to reach the lead hulk, meanwhile two more pulled inside to cover them. In that time only 100 vultures took off, with more taking off each second. It didn't matter though. Once the fire started to be exchanged between the two fleets the vultures took an under tactic, flying under the fire from the two fleets and not straight through. Z-95s and flew under to meet them. While over top flew several more N1s Qui-gon's and Obi-wan's flew over to protect the mixed bomber squads that ran overtop when the enemy ordered their few vultures under. Now the bombers were protect with not only the fighter escorts, but also the enemy's own blaster fire.
As if that wasn't enough, the view kept changing and moving around as blaster fire burned against the shields. All the while the ship kept dodging, diving, ducking, and dodging blaster fire. All at a dead sprint to reach inside their guns.
Three times, three times the shields had to cycle before coming back up at full. Three times too many did Amidala think they were dead. But the armor held. The admiral noticed her paling complexion and took pity on her. "Ah, you civvies don't understand. You all think it's about your shields in space battles. And that's true for a civilian freighter, for a battleship it's all about it's armor. The shield fail in battle as long as you're not completely outgunning your opponents. So unless you have the armor to tank the hits while your cycling heat, your dead. And that's where the naughts' biggest strength lies. When we get in punching distance, their shields won't hold, and then the paper that keeps them from dead space will crumple, then we win." He said.
Amidala just had to trust him, but he was right about the armor holding at least. Still, it wasn't a good feeling to realize that our shields had folded multiple times when their entire fleet hadn't brought down the shield of the opposing fleet even once.
But finally they were in within spitting distance, where the real battle was about to begin. She noticed it when the bridge went quiet again. The ship no longer juked or bother changing course, she simply dove straight ahead. She felt the tension on her skin as these trained, hardened, bloodied soldiers were ready and willing to die for one thing, victory, and nothing else flowed through them. She only hoped it wasn't the same for her opponents.
The fire intensified between the two ships, until she couldn't even see out of the transparasteel window. But then they were through and the fire died down instantly, growing sporadic and anemic. Then the ship dove sideways and she could see Naboo. Only for both sides to bristle with fire as they hammered at each other in a brutal slugfest.
She watched from a window as the Corellion battleships, cruisers of all types dove into the central space of the freighnut as they called it, or freighnaught. With a fleet of dreadnaughts pounding at the hull from point blank range they could not miss. It because apparent that it's size was a disadvantage this close. As the dreadnaughts could keep pass and stay on the guns, but the hulk couldn't bring new guns and fresh shields to bear. When the guns on a side were taken out, the naughts' would just rotate to bring new ones into play. When the shields failed, it would fall to the back lines, and a fresh naught' would replace it.
All of this, for really just a beachhead for the rest of the battlefleet to launch their attacks inside of the hulks shields. The command sphere had another set of shields, stronger than the rest, that prevented from direct bombings but DP-20s and Cr-70s would dive in and out of the 'fishbowl' to ravage the vultures attempting to escape from the hangers before returning back behind the naughts to recharge and regroup. And don't get her started on the fighters swamping everything. Every so often a vulture or a fighter or a bomber, would fly by the bridge and nearly skim the shields!
Amidala's heart was in her throat the entire time. There was nothing she could do but hope, hope that everything and all the death would be worth it.
If Nute was here, and knew what she thought, he would clearly state, nope, no it was not you crazy bitch! Worse than an ex that one!
As an N1 shot into an internal hanger with it's pilot jumping out and screaming for a reload, refuel, and a new astromech droid. Anakin, who had snuck on board followed the force into it's cockpit. He felt the force tell him which controls R2, the ever loyal overwatch, was grasped into it's nav slot. Feeling his head be detached by the Mech port handshake was a disconcerting feeling for the , but it didn't hurt. It just felt like popping a joint did after it had gone asleep in organics, or at least that's what he thought it did.
