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Chapter 57: Iron Tusk Strikes (Part 1) 

The Lucrehulk mothership, Gomi. 

This colossal ship couldn’t even get too close to a planet without its massive bulk triggering catastrophic tidal effects—earthquakes, tsunamis, you name it. 

The mothership’s crescent-shaped hull gleamed under the star’s light, flashing with dazzling streaks of brilliance. Whoever built this 3,700-billion-ton behemoth, shaping it into such a sleek, beautiful form, had pulled off a miracle for the ages. 

“…Boss… are we really attacking this thing?” the first mate said, swallowing hard, his body trembling slightly. 

“It’s… it’s too big! We can’t even scratch it!” the navigator stammered, jaw practically on the floor. 

Kuken slapped the navigator’s head, snarling, “You got bantha dung for brains? This is a civilian ship! Look at its shape—no serious weapons! We take out their fighters, lob a few shots, and they’ll fold like a cheap holo-deck. Full speed ahead—attack!” 

“You got it!” the weapons officer shouted, slamming a button. On the Hammerhead-class cruiser, retrofitted torpedo launchers roared to life. Two proton torpedoes ignited and streaked toward the mothership. 

“Who told you to fire torpedoes? Those things cost credits, you idiot!” Kuken bellowed. “Get in close and hit ‘em with the main guns!” 

The Hammerhead cruiser accelerated, charging straight for the mothership. Ahead, two glowing specks—the proton torpedoes—picked up speed. Against the mothership’s massive frame, the fire-control radar locked on with ease. 

The torpedoes surged faster, finally slamming into the mothership. At a few dozen meters out, they erupted into twin clouds of pale blue, destructive proton energy, sending ripples of force outward. The attack was completely absorbed by the mothership’s energy shields. 

The strike seemed to wake the sleeping giant. The mothership began to turn, its engine ports flaring with bright blue light. With immense thrust, it broke free of its synchronous orbit around the planet Lehon and barreled toward the Hammerhead cruiser. 

“Boss! It’s coming at us!” the first mate said, panic creeping in. 

“What’s there to fear? Let ‘em come! Once we’re in range, open fire!” Kuken roared. 

The mothership and Iron Tusk closed the distance, neither side deploying fighters. The mothership adjusted its position and fired first. Five mass-driver cannons, mounted at its core, electromagnetically hurled heavy slugs at multiple meters per second. In the vacuum of space, those slugs would keep that speed indefinitely, flying until they hit something. 

But the mothership’s volleys missed. At thousands of kilometers, even slugs that fast would take over ten minutes to reach their target—plenty of time for the cruiser to dodge. 

“Hahaha! They’re actually fighting back? Tired of living, huh?” The mothership’s counterattack only fueled Kuken’s excitement. He could see its firepower posed no real threat. “Prepare to evade! All their weapons are forward-facing. Stay out of their front arc, and they can’t touch us!” 

At Kuken’s command, the first mate punched a trajectory into the computer and shouted to the helm, “Calculate their firing path! Hard to port, 15 degrees!” 

“Aye, port 15!” 

Iron Tusk veered sharply, using its speed and agility to circle around, dodging the mothership’s attacks. Against the Lucrehulk’s sheer size, even the clunky Hammerhead cruiser danced like a Twi’lek in a cantina. 

The maneuver worked. The mothership’s acceleration was sluggish, its turning even slower. It couldn’t keep up with Iron Tusk, despite the cruiser’s own lack of finesse. 

But the mothership seemed fixated, stubbornly chasing Iron Tusk, lumbering forward and turning endlessly. Its speed never picked up, like a headless mynock flapping in circles. Picture a bantha playing hide-and-seek with a womp rat—that’s the scene. 

Kuken roared with laughter. “Hahaha! See that? Just a useless civilian ship! They’re trying to ram us! Hahaha!” 

The other pirates joined in, cackling. The mothership’s flailing confirmed it: despite its size, it lacked the defenses to match. It was ripe for the taking—a prize they could claim! 

The gap between them shrank, the mothership still doing nothing but circling. At 5,000 kilometers, Kuken, spitting with glee, bellowed, “All turrets, fire!” 

Iron Tusk’s main guns—two medium turbolaser cannons—blazed to life, firing brilliant laser beams at the mothership. Four secondary cannons, smaller dual turbolaser turrets, joined in, unleashing a storm of plasma-charged laser bolts. 

The mothership didn’t flinch. Its shields absorbed every hit, leaving the hull untouched. 

“Hahaha! Keep firing! Open the public channel!” Kuken ordered, grinning. 

Once the channel was live, he roared, “Listen up, you oversized freighter! This is Iron Tusk Kuken! This is my turf! You think you can waltz in and build a colony? Had enough of living, huh? Drop your shields and surrender, then pay my tax! Or once I crack those shields, your ship and everyone on it is space dust!” 

No matter how Kuken ranted, the mothership stayed silent, still circling obsessively. 

Kuken felt insulted—ignored. No one had ever brushed him off like this. Slamming the console, he shouted, “Launch all fighters! Max power to the main guns! Fire proton torpedoes! Hit ‘em hard!” 

“Boss… didn’t you say torpedoes were—” 

“Shut it! Once we take that ship, we’ll have everything! Fire! Launch every kriffing torpedo we’ve got!” 

Iron Tusk unleashed its full arsenal. Turbolasers blazed at maximum output, and over a dozen proton torpedoes streaked out, exploding against the mothership’s shields. 

The cruiser’s hangar doors slid open. Twelve Aurek-class fighters, prepped and ready, launched one by one from the platform, swarming toward the mothership like angry vespids. 

Chapter 58: Iron Fang Strikes (Part Two) 

The Aurek-class fighter, a relic from the Sith Wars a couple thousand years back, was a 9.2-meter triangular light fighter. Don’t let its size fool you—it packed proton torpedoes, making it a versatile workhorse for the Galactic Republic during those brutal conflicts. 

Sure, by today’s standards, it’s outdated. But the Republic’s been slacking on military upgrades for over a millennium, so it’s not as obsolete as you’d think. Still, these Aureks can’t hold a candle to the galaxy’s modern fighters. Even so, with a cruiser and a squadron of these ships, “Iron Fang” Kuken’s pirate crew is a deadly force among the galaxy’s lowlifes. 

Twelve Aurek fighters buzzed around the mothership, launching proton torpedoes from different angles while peppering it with laser cannon fire. 

The mothership didn’t even flinch. 

On its bridge, Ventus’s gaze was steady, locked on the holographic battlefield display. 

The fight was almost dull: two ships—one massive, one not—circling each other, with twelve tiny fighters hammering away. But Ventus didn’t blink, staring at the holo until his eyes stung. 

“Energy shield power down 1%!” Qi Jian called back. “Those proton torpedoes hit harder than we expected.” 

Ventus nodded. “What’s Mainframe’s estimate? How long until they breach our shields?” 

“Based on their torpedo reserves, anywhere from 200 to 1,700 hours,” Qi Jian replied. 

“How solid’s our plan?” Ventus pressed. 

“Seventy percent,” Carls Walton answered, his face grim. 

Ventus started unbuttoning his coat, revealing a lean, muscled frame and a snug pilot’s flightsuit. “You’ve got the conn. Signal the first wave of fighters to launch in ten minutes!” 

“Yes, sir!” 

Ventus didn’t linger. He took a turbolift straight to the massive hangar deck, where 73 modified Blade-class fighters were prepped, pilots in place, and ground crews making final checks. 

He strode to an open fighter and leapt into the cockpit with practiced ease. 

Since awakening his Force sensitivity, Ventus had been pushing himself—physically and mentally. He knew the Force would give him an edge in the cockpit, so he’d started training on the Blade fighters days ago. His progress was lightning-fast. 

“Administrator, you’ve got this!” his wingman shouted, flashing a thumbs-up. 

“Leave it to me! Today, I’ll lead you to victory!” Ventus returned the gesture, then sealed the canopy and fired up the engines. 

The hangar lights flashed red, and Mainframe’s voice boomed: [Fighter Squadron One, prepare for launch. Repeat, Fighter Squadron One, prepare for launch.] 

Ventus’s eyes sharpened. He slammed the throttle forward, and his fighter shot out like a blaster bolt. 

The view darkened as he entered the void of space. Following the nav system, he banked left, guiding his fighter toward the target. 

As he rounded the mothership, the lush green orb of Endor came into view—along with the Hammerhead-class cruiser unloading a barrage on the mothership. 

“Target confirmed,” Ventus said coldly, eyeing the cruiser. 

“Stick to the plan! Squadron One, execute a probing attack!” Carls Walton’s voice crackled over the comms. 

“Copy that. Squadron One, on me,” Ventus ordered, pushing the throttle. His twelve Blade fighters roared toward the cruiser in tight formation. 

The pirates hadn’t expected the mothership to launch fighters. Their twelve Aureks didn’t react immediately, a clear sign of their sloppy discipline and lack of training. 

Reaching firing range, Ventus barked into the comm, “Squadron One, open fire! First missile salvo!” 

He flipped the firing cap, and with the mothership’s data-link guiding the fire-control radar, he locked onto the cruiser and slammed the button. 

A two-meter Gemini air-to-air missile ignited from the fighter’s belly, streaking toward the cruiser. 

Squadron One’s Blade fighters, all armed with Gemini missiles, unleashed their payloads in unison. Backed by the mothership’s massive computing power, all twelve missiles slammed into their target. 

Explosions bloomed across the cruiser’s deflector shields, but the barrier held. 

Attack complete, Ventus didn’t press the assault. He banked hard, leading Squadron One toward the mothership’s flank. 

The pirates’ Aurek fighters, like bloodthirsty nerfs, gave chase. The cruiser’s pounding had lit a fire under them. 

Kuken’s furious roars blasted over their comms, cursing and ordering the Aureks to shred the “pathetic, outdated” Blade fighters. 

Squadron One didn’t engage, speeding to the mothership’s designated flank. Ventus keyed the comm: “Squadron One, in position.” 

“Activate close-in defense systems! Squadron Two, launch!” Qi Jian ordered from the bridge. 

Panels slid open along the mothership’s massive hull, revealing double-barreled 30mm electromagnetic cannons. They swiveled, locked onto the Aurek fighters, and unleashed a storm of fire. 

A barrage of rounds formed a deadly curtain around the mothership. 

The Aurek formation scattered, weaving desperately to dodge the onslaught. 

The mothership’s defenses were, frankly, underwhelming. Only 377 close-in cannons, all 30mm twin-barreled models—754 barrels total. That wasn’t nearly enough to cover a kilometer-tall behemoth. 

Under normal circumstances, the Aureks could easily evade or pull back to a safe distance. Electromagnetic cannons had infinite range in space, but their accuracy was abysmal. At a hundred kilometers, a 0.01-degree adjustment could mean a massive miss. 

But the pirates had forgotten one thing: Ventus’s Blade fighter squadron was still in play. 

Chapter 59: Iron Tusk Strikes (Part 3) 

Right now, the swarm of enraged Aurek-class fighters had been drawn toward the Lucrehulk mothership by Ventus’s squadron of Blade-class fighters. Without the Iron Tusk cruiser’s covering fire, they were caught in a deadly storm of the mothership’s point-defense systems. 

As the mothership’s defenses unleashed a barrage, Ventus led the First Squadron in a daring dive straight into the fray! 

At the same time, the Second and Third Squadrons of Blade fighters launched, joining the battle. 

In an instant, all three squadrons of the Fourth Civilization—36 fighters total—clashed with Kuken’s 12 Aurek fighters, backed by the mothership’s defensive fire. 

In this chaos, even the underpowered Blade fighters could hold their own. And these weren’t the same old Blades—upgraded with compact fusion engines, basic energy shields, and red laser cannons, their firepower, speed, and agility were on a whole new level! 

Unlike the earlier, tedious dance of the two massive ships circling each other, the fighter dogfight erupted into a white-hot frenzy from the get-go! 

An Aurek fighter nimbly dodged the mothership’s point-defense fire, spinning through space before locking onto a Blade fighter. The pirate pilot licked his lips with a cruel grin, locked his target, and fired! 

Twin laser beams lanced toward the Blade fighter but didn’t destroy it outright. The beams hit a faint energy shield, which flickered before collapsing. The lasers grazed the fighter’s side, scorching its hull. 

The Blade fighter wobbled but peeled away to retreat. The brief delay gave a point-defense turret an opening—it locked onto the Aurek and unleashed a torrent of rounds, making the pirate’s shields flare wildly. Then, out of nowhere, another Blade fighter swooped in, blasting a red laser beam head-on! 

The Aurek’s shields buckled. It tried to flee, but its engine suddenly erupted in flames. The Tatooine-sourced “special” oil Village had slipped in didn’t lubricate—it wrecked the engine! 

Locked on by the mothership’s fire-control system, the Aurek had no chance. Multiple point-defense turrets fired at once, shredding the fighter into glowing fragments. 

Ventus piloted his Blade fighter, carving an arc through space as he locked onto another Aurek and accelerated. 

He wasn’t gripped by the thrill or nerves of his first space dogfight. Instead, he was calm, letting the Force guide his senses, feeling the battle unfold around him. 

With a subtle flick of his fighter’s wings, he dodged a laser blast from behind. He didn’t turn to engage the attacker, staying focused on his chosen target. The avionics showed 250 kilometers to the Aurek. Without hesitation, he fired at its left flank! 

Almost the moment he pulled the trigger, the Aurek, forced to veer left by the mothership’s point-defense fire, flew right into his line of fire! 

A red laser beam raked across the Aurek’s shields, leaving a long scorch mark before shattering them. Ventus stuck to his target like a mynock on a power cable, matching every turn and roll, keeping the laser trained on it. 

Three seconds later, the Aurek exploded into a fireball, debris scattering in all directions. Ventus’s expression remained neutral—no joy, no sorrow. He banked his fighter toward the next enemy. 

The battle lasted about five minutes. All 12 of the pirates’ Aurek fighters were destroyed. Despite their superior performance, they managed to down three Blade fighters, killing two pilots and leaving one critically injured. 

But the Fourth Civilization’s fighters didn’t let up. After wiping out the pirate fighters, every available ship launched from the mothership: 70 Blade fighters and three Hammer-class frigates. 

Only the YVX-865 Aurore-class freighter stayed behind. Everything else the Fourth Civilization could muster charged forward. 

Inside the Iron Tusk cruiser, ‘Iron Tusk’ Kuken was in a full-blown rage. “Useless! You’re all useless! Those fighters are junk, and you couldn’t even beat junk? Pathetic!” 

“Boss, things are looking bad… maybe we should pull back?” the first mate muttered. 

“Pull back? After our people died for nothing? After I wasted my proton torpedoes?” Kuken backhanded him, roaring, “Keep firing! Launch every proton torpedo we’ve got! Get crews to the point-defense turrets and shoot those garbage fighters down!” 

The pirates scrambled into action. Each of the eight point-defense turrets was manned by two crew members—one to aim, one to fire. 

Kuken grinned wickedly. “I’ve been in the piracy game for years—think I don’t know the Hammerhead’s weaknesses? I’ve upgraded this ship with extra turrets! Those little fighters are just flying to their graves!” 

Meanwhile, the Fourth Civilization’s fighter swarm closed in! 

As they entered range, they unleashed a salvo of Gemini missiles. A dozen missiles detonated against the cruiser, followed by another dozen. Once in laser range, the Blade fighters’ red laser cannons swept across the cruiser’s hull in a relentless barrage. 

“Fire! Shoot ‘em down!” a pirate in a turret yelled, locking onto a target. But when he stomped the firing pedal, the turret didn’t budge! 

Panicked gunners patched through to the bridge, shouting, “Boss, we’re in trouble! The turrets won’t turn!” 

“I checked—the wiring to the turret rings is cut!” 

“You idiots! What are the engineering crews paid for? Fix it now!” Kuken’s face darkened, his hoarse screams sounding like a pregnant gundark in agony. 

Chaos erupted across the cruiser. 

At that moment, Village, still locked in the cargo hold, saw his chance. With the battle raging, the pirates guarding him and the other prisoners had left to focus on the fight, leaving the hold unguarded. 

He whispered to the terrified civilians—forced by the pirates to sing, dance, serve drinks, or clean, “Stay calm. Kuken’s done for. I’ll get you out. Keep quiet while I cause some chaos and find the escape pods.” 

The civilians, paralyzed with fear until now, nodded eagerly at the promise of rescue. They cleared a path, letting Village slip out. 

Chapter 60: Iron Fang Strikes (Part 4) 

Crouching low to dodge the frantic pirates scurrying about, Murt slipped through the chaos toward the cantina. He spotted Taya sitting dazed on the stage, looking lost. When she saw Murt, her eyes lit up, and a spark of energy returned. She opened her mouth to speak, but Murt quickly hushed her. 

“Unless something goes wrong, Kuken’s not holding up,” he whispered. “I’m gonna stir up some trouble here, then get everyone out on the escape pods.” 

“I don’t know how much I can help,” Taya said, “but I overheard some captain-looking guy mention there’s an armory nearby.” 

Murt’s face lit up with excitement. He gave Taya’s cheek a playful pat. “Nice work. Stay here and wait for me.” 

Moments later, Murt came sprinting back, practically buzzing with adrenaline. He scooped Taya into a quick hug and whispered, “Come on, I’m gonna show you some fireworks… Haha! Three, two, one!” 

BOOM! A massive explosion rocked the corridor, flames erupting into the sky! 

Murt had slipped into the armory during the chaos, rigged a simple timed igniter, and set off the stored blaster gas. The armory was just for the pirates’ blaster rifles, not the cruiser’s main cannon ammo, so the blast only wrecked a few nearby compartments without damaging the ship’s structure. 

But the explosion sent Kuken on the bridge into a rage. He grabbed the navigator by the collar and roared, “Who’s messing with my ship?! Is it those blasted singers?!” 

“I-I don’t know!” the navigator stammered, drenched in Kuken’s spittle and trembling in fear. 

“Useless! All of you, useless!” Kuken snarled, pressing his blaster to the navigator’s chin and pulling the trigger without hesitation. 

Bang! The navigator’s head exploded, splattering blood and brains across Kuken’s face. 

The carnage only fueled Kuken’s fury. Pointing at the door, he bellowed, “Go kill every last one of those singers! No survivors! And someone put out that fire!” 

Several pirates grabbed their blaster rifles and bolted out the door. 

Meanwhile, Murt was leading Taya and a dozen civilians, including Quinto and Ferasi, toward the escape pods. The cruiser’s pirates were too busy with the armory explosion—rushing to fight fires, repair damage, or man turrets—to notice them slipping through the chaos. 

At the escape pods, Murt ushered Taya and the civilians inside. “Don’t worry,” he told them. “The folks out there will get you to safety.” 

He reached for the launch button. 

Taya grabbed his arm, eyes wide. “Sweetheart, why aren’t you coming?” 

Murt flashed a roguish grin. “I gotta see if I can hijack this cruiser. My boss could use a ship like this.” With that, he sealed the pod door and hit the launch button. 

As the escape pods shot into space, Ventus, hammering the cruiser with his fighter, got the alert. Over the comms, he barked, “Send a few ships to escort those pods back to the mothership! Everyone else, keep pounding that cruiser!” 

With six of the cruiser’s eight point-defense cannons stuck, the Blade fighters tore into the Iron Fang with little resistance. The cruiser had taken over 60 Gemini missiles, but at 315 meters long, its shields still held. The Blade fighters, cobbled-together upgrades, relied on their missiles—their small infrared laser cannons barely scratched the cruiser’s hull. 

But the tide turned when three Hammer-class frigates joined the fray. 

One of the frigates looked odd, its two turrets mismatched and its hull bulked up to house a larger fusion reactor, giving it the look of an overinflated pufferfish. As it entered range, the frigate’s twin turbolaser cannons roared to life. The powerful lasers, amplified by specialized high-yield blaster gas, formed devastating particle beams—a hallmark of Star Wars weaponry used across countless warships. 

The turbolasers hammered the Iron Fang’s shields, draining them rapidly. Then the other two frigates opened fire, launching volleys of pale blue ion bombs that burst into crackling electrical bursts on impact. These ion bomb launchers, ripped from the Homeworld tech tree and mounted on the frigates, were designed to shred shields—and they were doing their job. 

“Boss!” a panicked pirate shouted to Kuken. “Our shields are almost gone! Two generators are overheating and need to cycle!” 

Kuken’s eyes burned with rage as he glared out the viewport at the massive mothership looming outside. He slammed his fist on the console and roared, “Prep for a hyperspace jump! We’re getting out of here!” 

Panting like a cornered beast, he growled, “I’ll remember this place—Endor system! Your little colony’s here, and it’s not going anywhere! I’ll be back, and I’ll bring Black Sun with me!” 

But as the crew scrambled to engage the hyperdrive, an operator cried out, “It’s not working! The hyperdrive won’t start!” 

“Damn it!” Kuken bellowed. “Why not?! We’re clear of any gravity well!” 

The operator, pale and shaking, pointed out the viewport at the looming mothership. “It’s… it’s the mothership’s gravity field…” 

“What?” Kuken felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him. He turned slowly, staring at the massive ship just outside. “They… they planned this from the start?” 

Hyperspace jumps were tricky—gravity fields, like those from planets or massive ships, could disrupt the jump, tearing a ship apart if it tried to enter hyperspace too close. Even in hyperspace, gravitational forces from celestial bodies could affect navigation, which is why the galaxy’s hyperspace lanes were carefully charted paths free of such interference.