C2P2

High orbit over Iraknya

Venator-Class Star Destroyer, Liberator

Admiral Wezler smirked as his orders sent another Separatist warship exploding as their inept commander reformed their formation once again. The enemy commander was tenacious, yes, but he was also too cautious. Every time a ship was destroyed or crippled, the Separatists would shift and reform their formation to allow for maximum firepower at range.

So Wezler kept hammering one frigate after another, forcing the enemy commander to reform his fleet again and again, wasting valuable time as his ships died again and again. It was a predictable pattern and one that the Admiral exploited ruthlessly.

His ships weathered the fighter swarm and the long range fire of the Munificents, but once the laser cannons cleaned up the droid fighters, it was only the matter of time as each ship began focusing their fire to pick off one frigate after another.

"Shift fire to next target," he ordered. At once, his officers relayed his orders and Wezler felt a little pride at the efficiency his people displayed. His crew were mostly common born and enlisted soldiers, Clone Troopers made up less than a quarter of the crew population, due to their need on the frontline.

But he didn't need Clones to take out a bunch of frigates. Especially when a single Venator was a match for the entire fleet of Munificents in front of him.

"Sir, enemy ships are closing in," shouted his number one, a young corellian with a sharp eye for tactics and an even sharper eye with his blaster.

Wezler eyed the display in front of him. All six of the remaining ships were abandoning their silly formation tactics and were charging recklessly towards his own fleet. "So, all cards in, eh?" He smirked and turned to his bridge.

"All ships, focus fire on the leading warship and destroy it!"

Even as he watched the bright blue lances of the Liberator's turbolaser batteries propel themselves towards the incoming warships, bright dots of explosions covered the forward section of the three Munificents before him. The outer shell broke and the forward bridge exploded spectacularly. All three ships pitched forwards as their corpses continued to tumble forwards.

Behind them, undoubtedly, were the last set of frigates.

"Keep firing!" He said, eying the enemy ships as he waited for the inevitable reformation.

It was only a matter of time, thought Wezler as he frowned. He frowned even harder as the batteries stitched explosions across the center-line of the frigate's spine.

The spines of all three ships tumbling towards his ships shattered, splitting the burning wrecks apart as the frigates behind them charged at full speed, their weapons firing relentlessly.

With the frigate looming towards him, where he could make every single window and weapon emplacement in fine detail, Admiral Wezler finally realized he had been duped!

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!" He screamed, throwing himself to the ground as hulls met hulls and each ships collided with the other.

-

"Your first mistake was becoming complacent in the predictability of the Commander's strategy."

Admiral Wezler was complacent. Oh, he was a competent commander and a master at space warfare. Top of the class in his time actually. But it didn't excuse his lack of alertness.

"Your second mistake was taking your time in playing with an outmatched force."

In his school days, Wezler often took his time to bully those underneath him. Forcing the weaker men and women to yield in as a humiliating manner as possible. He matured, yes, but that trait was still present as he made the enemies of the Republic cower and despair in the same manner.

"Your last mistake was standing so still."

Ships in space moved. It was a dance of death where those who avoided as much damage as possible while dealing as much damage as possible were the ones who survived.

Those who stood still and simply dished out as much damage as possible were only targets waiting to be destroyed.

Standing in the bridge of my corvette, I grinned underneath my hood and motioned dramatically (if only for my own benefit), "Begin boarding operations."

A thousand voices, all speaking as one responded.

"By your command!"