The moment they arrived back in realspace, Retribution opened her shuttle bays and the first wave of boarding shuttles launched. They approached Helot’s Shackle at half speed, behind the Y-wings, which were barreling in at full speed.
Bria watched with satisfaction as the first pair of Y-wings streaked toward the Corellian corvette, firing salvos of two proton torpedoes each, targeting the stern and amidships. Their goal was not to blow a hole in Helot’s Shackle, but to take down the shields without harming the vessel unduly. Bria intended to take the Shackle intact and bring it back to be added into the Rebel fleet. One of the shuttles in the second wave would be carrying a prize crew, consisting of computer techs, engineers, a pilot and damage control and repair teams.
Bria would not have minded catching Helot’s Shackle unprepared, but she wasn’t counting on that, and wasn’t surprised to find that the corvette was traveling with its shields up. As the Y-wings hurtled in, the big ship opened fire, but the agile Y-wings easily evaded its blasts.
Retribution stayed carefully out of range of its fire.
As Bria watched, the four proton torpedoes launched by the Y-wings flashed bluewhite, impacted against the shields, and splashed over the slayer’s hull without penetrating the defenses. The first pair of Y-wings peeled away and went circling back in case they were needed again.
Helot’s Shackle blasted away again, and this time one of its shots grazed one of the Y-wings—a minor hit, but enough to put the fighter out of the action.
Bria was figuring it would take four proton torpedoes to bring down the Shackle’s shields. The second pair of Y-wings went streaking in, and the first fired.
This time the bluewhite burst spread out, then, suddenly, there was a visible impact against the side of the vessel. A blackened streak marred the armor.
“That’s it!” Bria said, and keyed the comm unit, addressed her Y-wing team leader. “Crimson Fury, good work! Shields are down! Now let’s use those ion cannons of yours to finish ‘em! Warn your ships to take evasive! We don’t want any more hits!”
“Copy that, Red Hand Leader. Targeting sensor suites and solar fin.
Starting our runs now.”
The Y-wing pairs began strafing the Helot’s Shackle, firing their turreted ion cannons at the preassigned targets. The bursts from the ion cannons were designed not to damage the enemy vessel’s hull, but to knock out all electrical activity aboard ship—including, of course, the engines, the targeting computers, and the bridge systems. Every electrical system aboard would need to be reinitialized before the Shackle would be operational again.
Helot’s Shackle fired again and again, but the Y-wings were just too quick and agile for the big ship’s weapons to target effectively.
Scant minutes later, the Shackle was drifting helpless in space, its electrical systems down. Bria checked her chrono as the first wave of boarding shuttles moved in. Good. Right on time. One ship attached itself to the large forward airlock, the one the Shackle used to load her cargoes of slaves. The remaining two shuttles grappled against the hull on either side of the slayer’s ship and began cutting their way in.
Bria listened as reports flooded in from her squad leaders: “Red Hand Leader, Squad One reporting from the cargo airlock on the forward hold on Deck 4. We’ve made it inside, but we’re encountering heavy resistance. The crew was getting the slaves out as we came through, but there are still some in here. The Pilgrims have taken shelter, as have we, behind cargo canisters. We’ve got a brisk firefight ongoing.
We’re going to push them back, so we can get to the turbolaser access shaft.”
“Red Hand Leader, Squad Two reporting in. We’ve breached the hull forward of the engines on Deck 4 and set up a portable airlock. My troops are moving in now …. ” “Red Hand Leader, the armor plating on this section of the starboard hull is giving us some trouble …
stand by “And, a minute later, “Red Hand Leader, we are through!”
Bria watched the progress of the squads through the vessel, weighing when to bring in her second wave. The two squads who’d cut their way in had met with minimal resistance. But the forward squad who’d entered through the airlock was meeting heavy opposition from the slavers as they battled their way to the turbolifts. It was understandable that the slavers would fight to the last. Red Hand’s reputation was beginning to spread, and doubtless the crew of the Shackle had recognized the symbol of a blood-dripping hand painted on the bows of their attackers’ ships.
Bria stood up and addressed the captain of her ship. “Tedris, you’re in command of the squadron until I return from the second wave operation. Be prepared to send backup if I contact you, but not until.