Star Wars: Empire of the Eternal Star

{Chapter: 22 Breaking the Defense}

"Hold on tight!" Edison shouted as he gripped the joystick of the YT-1000 spacecraft and shoved it forward with force. The moment the hatch sealed shut, the ship lurched violently, accelerating like a wild beast freed from its chains, rocketing toward the outer edges of the atmosphere.

A barrage of blaster fire erupted from the ground below, streaks of red and blue energy crisscrossing through the sky. But at this altitude, the small-caliber blasters posed little threat. The spacecraft was moving too fast, climbing too high.

Yet, the danger was far from over.

On the jagged mountain peaks surrounding the launch site, massive hatches, previously disguised as frozen rock formations, slid open with a mechanical hiss. From within, turbolaser turrets emerged, their barrels rising ominously as they adjusted their targeting systems.

Edison tightened his grip on the controls. His movements were smooth, precise. The YT-1000 twisted and rolled unpredictably, evading the fire control radar. The targeting systems of the turbolasers struggled to lock on, and several powerful bolts of green energy streaked past the ship, missing by mere meters.

Inside the cockpit, Leo felt sweat bead at his temples as he braced himself against the rapid maneuvers. Each near miss sent an involuntary shiver down his spine.

As the spacecraft finally broke free of the planet's gravitational pull, entering the weightless void of space, a new threat loomed before them.

The Generosity-class frigates, which had remained indifferent upon their entry, were now springing into action. Their engines flared as they repositioned themselves, closing in rapidly.

And they weren't alone.

Dozens of Vulture droid fighters detached from the hulls of the frigates, their skeletal frames unfolding as they sprang to life. Mechanical talons retracted into sleek wings, and in seconds, the fighter swarm descended upon them, moving with predatory precision.

They came like real vultures—fast, merciless, and lethal.

"Quinto! Get back here and help me!" the village chief barked into the comms.

Quinto emerged from the turret access hatch and dropped into the co-pilot's seat, his face grim. "But what about the turret?"

Spade remained in the cabin, working to keep the ship's systems stable. Meanwhile, T-850 had just finished hauling Semid out of the wreckage of the transport vehicle.

Without hesitation, Leo stepped forward. "I'll handle it!"

Without waiting for a response, he climbed into the turret seat and grabbed the controls.

"Listen up," Spud's voice crackled through the headset. "The left screen is your fire control radar. The right screen displays target data. Use the foot pedals to rotate the turret, and pull the trigger to fire."

Leo barely had time to register the instructions before Spud added, "That's it! You're trained! Now start shooting those Vultures before we all die!"

"Got it. I'll do my best," Leo muttered, swallowing hard.

His fingers wrapped around the turret joystick, and he squeezed the trigger.

Swish!

A green laser shot out, streaking toward the incoming fighters—only to veer off course and disappear into the blackness of space.

The Vulture droids responded instantly, their frames twisting and rolling with unnatural agility, dodging the incoming fire with ease. A moment later, they retaliated.

A volley of red energy beams rained down on the YT-1000, forcing Edison to swerve sharply. The deflector shields absorbed several hits, but the flashing warning indicators made it clear—the shields wouldn't hold forever.

The Vultures zipped past them, their glowing engines leaving bright trails as they looped back for another attack run.

"We need to break through this blockade and escape the gravity well," Munde shouted, gritting his teeth as he adjusted the ship's trajectory. "If we don't, we'll never make it to hyperspace!"

Ahead, three Bountiful-class frigates were rotating into position, their turbolasers already spooling up. Unlike the nimble fighters, these warships carried immense firepower. If even one of their blasts connected, the result would be catastrophic.

The only saving grace was their design—their primary weaponry was concentrated toward the bow. While they were still mid-turn, there was a fleeting window of opportunity for evasive maneuvers.

But that didn't solve the issue of the Vulture droids.

Inside the cockpit, the pilot's seat was soaked with sweat. The village chief's voice rang through the ship, desperate and urgent.

"I can dodge the warships, but I can't shake the fighters! If we don't take them out now, we're finished!"

"I'm trying!" Leo growled. He adjusted his aim and fired again.

Another miss.

A fresh round of energy bolts slammed into their rear shields.

"What the hell did Semid do?" Quinto shouted, his voice on edge. "Why is the entire Mygeeto military after us?"

Leo's hands clenched around the controls. "Do you think Hego commissions small-time jobs? Whatever we just got wrapped up in—it's huge."

The ship rocked violently as more hits struck the shields.

"The shield won't last!" Spud's voice came through, full of panic.

"Concentrate all shield energy to the rear!" the village chief ordered. "Administrator! You've awakened your power! You can do this! Our lives are in your hands!"

Leo's breath caught.

The Force…

That strange, elusive power… He had felt it before.

He forced himself to steady his breathing. Calm down. Focus.

He closed his eyes and let go of the distractions—the noise, the fear, the pressure. He reached outward, searching… feeling…

Then it hit him.

A sensation, like floating in an endless void. The spacecraft, the battlefield, the countless moving parts—everything snapped into focus.

It was as if he were outside himself, looking down at the scene from a higher plane, watching the events unfold in slow motion. Every fighter, every laser bolt, every maneuver—it all became predictable.

His eyes snapped open.

They were different now. Darker. Deeper. Like a vortex turning within them.

His hands moved instinctively.

His foot tapped the left pedal, adjusting the turret angle by exactly seven degrees. His right hand fine-tuned the joystick, making a near-imperceptible correction.

Everything aligned in perfect synchronization.

It all happened in less than half a second.

And then—

Bang!

A green laser bolt shot out.

One of the Vulture droids, speeding straight toward them, twisted at the last second—but it was too late.

The laser cut through space like a blade of light, striking the droid dead center.

With a silent explosion, the Vulture fighter was instantly heated by the laser beam and exploded. Its fragile frame couldn't withstand the direct impact, and within moments, it burst apart into a fiery bloom that rapidly dissipated into the vacuum of space. Shattered debris, glowing with residual energy, scattered in all directions before vanishing into the endless black void.

The harsh reality of space combat was clear—size dictated firepower, resilience, and sheer destructive capability. In this universe, the larger the ship, the greater its energy reserves, the stronger its armor, and the more devastating its weapons. The 28-meter-long YT-1000 light freighter, though not a dedicated warship, possessed far greater energy output than the 3.6-meter-long Vulture-class droid fighters. Against the ship's more powerful laser turrets, the small and lightly armored drones were little more than fodder.

"Yahoo!! Well done!" Spud's excited cheer crackled through Leo's headset, his voice carrying an almost childlike excitement.

But Leo himself remained silent. His expression was blank, emotionless. He felt neither joy nor relief—only an eerie sense of clarity. His vision no longer perceived the chaos of battle as a frantic blur of motion. Instead, everything unfolded before him like an intricate tapestry, each thread representing the calculated movements of his enemies.

To an ordinary pilot, the swarm of incoming Vulture fighters would seem erratic, unpredictable, a whirlwind of deadly intent. But to Leo, their paths were crystal clear. Their movements followed patterns, their actions dictated by programming and combat algorithms. He could see their trajectories, their evasive maneuvers, and even the precise moments they would unleash their weapons. Though his prediction extended only one or two seconds ahead, that brief glimpse into the future was all he needed.

His instincts sharpened.

A fighter on the left was closing in at high speed. Another, directly below, was accelerating while preparing to fire a burst of blaster shots. To the right, a fourth fighter had locked onto them and was priming a missile launch. At the same time, the village chief was about to swerve the ship rightward by approximately seventeen degrees before suddenly braking to counteract the enemy's pursuit.

A flood of tactical information filled Leo's mind, converging into a single, optimal course of action.

He acted.

With swift, precise adjustments, he pivoted the turret and squeezed the trigger. A brilliant green laser beam lanced through the darkness, striking a Vulture fighter dead-on. The droid exploded in a dazzling display of fire and shrapnel. Simultaneously, the ship's shields absorbed the blaster fire from below, preventing critical damage. Leo anticipated the missile launch an instant before it happened, adjusting his turret to intercept. A well-placed shot detonated the projectile mid-flight, and the resulting explosion engulfed another fighter, frying its delicate sensors and rendering it blind.

One by one, the enemy fighters fell.

Within the span of a single minute, Leo had obliterated thirteen Vulture fighters—an achievement that would have been deemed impossible by any ordinary gunner.

Inside the cockpit, Spud watched in stunned silence. The excitement that had once filled his voice vanished, replaced by sheer disbelief. His mind struggled to comprehend the scene unfolding before him. Leo wasn't just shooting randomly—he was dismantling the enemy forces with calculated precision, as if he had already seen the outcome before it happened.

The battlefield, which had moments ago been overwhelmingly stacked against them, had shifted. The Lancer was no longer a helpless freighter struggling to survive; it was now a deadly predator, cutting through the enemy ranks with terrifying efficiency.

"The shield—!" Spud's voice suddenly returned to him, and he let out a panicked yell. "The shield is about to overload!! We can't take much more!"

"That's enough!" the village chief barked. "Quinto! Start the hyperspace engine!"

Quinto didn't hesitate. His hands moved instinctively, his fingers flying across the control panel before slamming down on the activation button.

"Hyperspace engine—ENGAGED!"

A low, resonating hum filled the ship as the engines powered up. Within seconds, the blackness of space outside the viewport erupted into a swirling cascade of elongated starlines. The Lancer, now encased in an aura of distorted light, surged forward, slipping free from the enemy's grasp.

The transition was instant.

The deadly battlefield they had just fought in was gone.

The three Bountiful-class frigates, their turbolaser turrets desperately trying to lock onto their target, could do nothing but watch as the Lancer disappeared in a blur of light.

In the blink of an eye, they had escaped.

Now, surrounded by the strange, fluid patterns of hyperspace, the crew of the Lancer finally had a moment to breathe. The battle was over. For now.

*****

[Attached Easter Egg Chapter 1: Vulture Robot Fighter]

*****

I am transitioning to Subscribestar. Currently, there is no content available, but it will be added shortly.