Star Wars: The War That Only the UNSC Can End

Slipspace distorted, and a bright blue flash illuminated the darkness of space as the UNSC fleet, led by the Resolute, emerged near the Kashyyyk system. Before them, the scene was harrowing. Emergency transmissions saturated communications, and the Resolute's tactical displays painted a chaotic scene: the sky above Kashyyyk was an absolute hell.

Wreckage of Republic frigates and transports floated inert, slowly spinning through the void. Plumes of green plasma fell from Covenant destroyers and cruisers like hammers, piercing the planet's atmosphere and leaving behind columns of fire rising from the surface. The unmistakable glow of vitrification was visible even from orbit, a deadly mark that transformed the planet's dense jungles into deserts of burnt glass.

"Visual contact," a Resolute tactical officer reported, his tone of restrained urgency. "Detecting 20 CCS-class cruisers and 10 Reverence-class destroyers. Enemy fleet established and operating at full capacity."

From the bridge, Prestone Cole watched the devastation with a clenched jaw. The tactical display projected the carnage in real time: the meager Wookiee defenders, reinforced by a small Republic detachment, were desperately trying to organize a defensive line, but their antiquated technology was unable to withstand the concentrated plasma barrages.

"Incoming transmission, sir," a communications officer interrupted. "It's from local forces on Kashyyyk. They're requesting immediate assistance."

The voice of Wookiee Commander Tarffulk filled the command room, roaring with fury and desperation. "Rwarrggh! Grrarrh rwagh!" His deep voice was mixed with explosions and alarms. The UNSC translator quickly interpreted his words:

"We are being slaughtered! Enemy forces have destroyed our orbital defenses. Our ground troops are being crushed, and civilian transports are under attack. We need reinforcements immediately or Kashyyyk will be annihilated."

Cole took a deep breath and looked at the tactical hologram depicting the battle. The data was clear: Kashyyyk was on the verge of collapse. The Republic's orbital defenses had been destroyed in the first few minutes of the attack, and evacuation transports attempting to leave the planet were being mercilessly attacked by Covenant Seraph fighters.

"Confirmed, sir," Serina interrupted, her voice calm but clipped. "There are no significant Republic assets left in the sector. Their support fleet has been eliminated. Ground forces are in disorganized retreat, and evacuation routes are compromised. Planetary vitrification is at 32% in major jungle regions. The complete fall of Kashyyyk is imminent without immediate intervention."

In the Resolute's command room, the tension was palpable. The tactical display projected a harrowing image of the Kashyyyk system. Prestone Cole stood silent for a moment, watching the chaos unfold before his eyes. The skies were filled with fire and death, with ships going down in flames and evacuation routes on the verge of collapse. The communications were a chaotic chorus of desperate screams, the sound of explosions, and the metallic echo of failing systems.

"Confirmed," Serina said, her slender hologram projecting beside Cole. Her voice resonated with a mix of inhuman calm and urgency. "The enemy fleet is well organized: 10 CCS-class cruisers and 5 Reverence-class destroyers are vitrifying strategic targets on the surface. Key areas of Kashyyyk have already sustained catastrophic damage. Two Republic frigates are attempting to hold out, but their armor cannot withstand the concentrated plasma hits. By my calculations, they have less than five minutes before they collapse. Wookiee civilian evacuations are in critical danger."

Cole's eyes focused on the holotable, where multiple evacuation routes were flashing red, marking the areas of greatest danger. Civilian transports attempted to dodge the attacks of the Covenant's Seraph fighters, but space was saturated with enemies. More transports were destroyed with every passing second.

"Any sign of Republic reinforcements?" Cole asked in a controlled voice, frustration showing in the set of his jaw.

Serina shook her head in a short, calculated gesture. "Negative. Records indicate that the Republic fleet in this sector was withdrawn to reinforce Coruscant two weeks ago. Kashyyyk has been abandoned. Local forces are fighting alone."

The news was a shock that resonated throughout the bridge. Abandoned. Kashyyyk, a key world, left to its own devices. Cole took a deep breath, holding back his anger. He looked at his crew, who waited with eyes filled with uncertainty.

"Then we are the only thing standing between the Covenant and the complete destruction of this system," he said finally, his voice firm, cutting through the tense air like a knife. "We will not allow this. Prepare for combat. This will not be easy, but we are here for a reason. Every second counts."

Cole stepped up to the tactical hologram and began issuing orders with surgical precision. "Serina, deploy all Broadswords and Longswords immediately. We need full air cover for those transports. I want you to neutralize any Seraph fighters that approach the evacuation routes. Civilian transports are top priority."

"Understood," Serina replied, beginning to relay the orders.

"Paris frigates," Cole continued, addressing the communications officers, "take cover on the left flank and protect the civilian ships. Maintain a tight defensive line, but do not compromise their position. Let the Marathons and the Resolute do the heavy lifting up front. We're heading straight for those cruisers."

"Sir, what about the ground forces?" Renault, the second in command, asked cautiously. "If the Wookiees lose the ground defenses, the Covenant can advance without resistance."

Cole nodded. "Transmit to the hangars. The new battle droids are cleared for planetary deployment. Prepare an initial force of 2,000 units to reinforce the ground lines. If we manage to open a window, we'll send more."

Within minutes, the Resolute and its fleet began to move. Engines roared as the ships took position. From the hangars, Broadsword and Longsword fighters emerged in waves, their formations perfectly coordinated.

"Resolute to all units," Cole transmitted, his firm voice echoing over the comm channels. "This is our chance to prove that the UNSC does not back down from the enemy. Let those Covenant bastards learn to fear us. All assets are cleared. Protect those civilian vessels and destroy anything in your path!"

The Broadswords led the charge, weaving through the wreckage of destroyed ships and enemy fire. Their homing missiles headed straight for the Covenant troop transports, destroying several before they could reach Kashyyyk's atmosphere. Beside them, the Longswords, armed with heavy weaponry, covered their comrades, firing bursts of shrapnel into the waves of Seraphs.

"Red Wing to Resolute! We're facing a massive wave of Seraphs. We need reinforcements in corridor three-nine-two," a Broadsword pilot transmitted as he dodged a plasma blast that passed dangerously close.

"Hold your formation," Cole quickly replied. "The Vanguard is redirecting air support to your sector."

From the Marathon Vanguard cruiser, Archer missile bays began firing a storm of shells into the swarm of Seraphs. The fragmentation blast cut down dozens, creating an opening for the Broadswords to continue their attack.

On the Resolute's bridge, lights flickered as the cruiser's main MAC cannon reloaded after a devastating shot. Plasma hits from the Covenant cruisers shook the structure, but Cole's flagship held its position at the front of the fleet, leading the desperate effort to save Kashyyyk.

"Resolute to the battle group," Cole ordered, his firm tone echoing over the comm channels. "Form a defensive line. Don't let those transports get hit. Cover the Wookiees. If they go down, we all go down."

The Paris-class frigates, UNSC Horizon and UNSC Sentinel, maneuvered with precision, positioning themselves in escort formation around the Wookiee civilian transports. Each of the frigates turned their auto-gun turrets and Archer missile launchers on the Seraph fighters attempting to breach their defense. Bursts of tracer fire streaked across the void, illuminating the desperately fleeing transports.

From across the battlefield, Covenant ships stepped up their offensive. The CCS-class cruisers, with their distinctive curved silhouette, fired continuous bursts of plasma that streaked through space, seeking out the most vulnerable UNSC ships. The Horizon and Sentinel's defensive maneuvers were impeccable, but every shot they took weakened their shields.

"Plasma hitting Horizon! Shields at 70%!" an officer shouted from the Resolute's tactical console.

Up front, the Marathon-class cruisers Ajax and Vanguard advanced together, their powerful MAC cannons firing supersonic shells that tore through enemy defenses.

"Direct hit on enemy hull!" an officer shouted from the bridge of the Ajax. His MAC cannon had pierced the shields of a CCS cruiser, leaving its hull vulnerable to Archer missiles launched from the Vanguard. The explosions tore through the Covenant ship, which split in two and erupted in a brilliant fireball.

Above the chaos, Longsword and Broadsword fighters battled for control of the air. Covenant Seraphs descended in waves, using aggressive maneuvers and coordinated attacks to try and disrupt the UNSC formation. Each missile launched by the Broadswords found its mark, destroying enemy transports before they could reach Kashyyyk's atmosphere.

"Transports confirmed destroyed!" one of the Broadsword pilots reported. "But more keep coming! We won't be able to hold this line for long."

A squadron of Longswords, led by Commander Phantom-1, zigzagged through a wave of enemy plasma, firing their own bursts that hit several Seraph fighters. "Keep wings closed and cover evacuation routes," Phantom-1 ordered. "Don't let those bastards get to the transports."

In the midst of the battle, an alarm blared across the Resolute's bridge. "Detecting a new slipspace breach," Serina announced, her tone more tense than usual. "Mass readout. This is not a destroyer."

All eyes turned to the tactical display as a massive distortion in space signaled the arrival of something massive. A blinding flash lit up the battlefield as a colossal ship emerged from slipspace: a Covenant CSO-class superfreighter. The monstrosity dwarfed all other ships in the area, its presence imposing a momentary silence even among the UNSC forces.

"There's our command center," Cole said quietly, his jaw clenched. The supercarrier began deploying additional transports, its turrets firing plasma blasts that vaporized the remains of friendly ships and held defensive lines at bay.

"This just got complicated," Cole muttered.

The tactical hologram on the Resolute's bridge projected a devastating panorama. The Covenant CSO-class supercarrier, towering and deadly, sent precise orders to enemy ships, while vitrifications on Kashyyyk's surface continued unabated. The dense jungles, home to the Wookiees, burned under the relentless plasma attack. From the evacuation ships, transmissions from Wookiee civilians were mixed with screams and desperate pleas.

Prestone Cole stood by the holotable, looking at his crew. His eyes were filled with determination, but his voice was grave. "If we don't divide their forces now, Kashyyyk will fall... and we will not be able to raise it again."

"Admiral," Serina interjected, her cold, calculating tone breaking the silence. "I have mapped out the most effective attack routes given our forces and theirs. If we manage to outflank them, we might be able to delay their advance long enough to regroup."

The hologram showed projected routes through the enemy lines, indicating key positions where an attack might be most effective. "I suggest the Paris-class frigates attack from the flanks, focusing their fire on the CCS-class cruisers. Meanwhile, the Marathons and Resolute should focus on neutralizing the destroyers. This will split their force and keep attention away from the civilian transports."

Cole nodded slowly. "And the supercarrier?"

Serina projected a detailed analysis of the enemy ship's massive structure. "I recommend avoiding a direct engagement for now. We need to gather more information on his capabilities before committing our resources. However, his fixed position suggests he is coordinating all enemy operations. If we manage to neutralize him, we will destabilize his entire strategy."

Cole crossed his arms. "Very well. Pass on the orders."

The UNSC fleet quickly split into tactical formation. The Paris-class frigates, led by the UNSC Horizon and UNSC Sentinel, launched themselves at the Covenant's flanks. From their missile bays, a storm of Archer shells headed toward the enemy's CCS-class cruisers. The shields of one of the cruisers began to sizzle under the impact, visibly weakening.

"Hits confirmed!" an officer reported from the Horizon. "Hits shields are going down. We need support to finish him off."

Meanwhile, the Marathon-class cruisers, the Ajax and the Vanguard, advanced with precision towards the Covenant CPV-class Heavy Destroyers. Their MAC cannons roared, launching shells at supersonic speeds. One of the enemy destroyers took a direct hit to its midsection, disintegrating in a massive explosion that lit up the void.

In orbit of Kashyyyk, space was a whirlwind of fire and dizzying maneuvers. UNSC Broadsword and Longsword fighters faced a relentless wave of Covenant Seraphs. Plasma bolts cut through the void, and explosions lit up the battlefield in intermittent flashes. The UNSC pilots, though outnumbered, demonstrated why they were considered the best. Every move was a calculated maneuver between survival and attack.

"Red Wing to Resolute!" A Broadsword pilot transmitted, his voice agitated as he made a sharp turn to avoid a plasma bolt. "We are being surrounded by Seraphs. We need immediate reinforcements in corridor three-nine-two."

Lieutenant Phantom-1, squadron leader, shouted across the channel. "Maintain formation! If we split up, we're dead."

The wings of Seraphs, in aggressive formation, closed the distance. Their plasma cannons fired with lethal precision, forcing the Broadswords into desperate maneuvers. One Broadsword tried to spiral away, but a bolt caught it in the wing, causing it to explode in a fireball. The pilot had no time to eject.

"They're outnumbering us!" another pilot shouted as he launched countermeasures to avoid a homing projectile.

From the Vanguard's bridge, a tactical officer announced, "Covering fire ready, target: Seraph attack corridors. Missiles inbound."

A massive salvo of Archer missiles was launched from the Marathon-class cruiser. The incandescent trails streaked across the battlefield, finding their targets among the Seraph formations. The consecutive explosions destroyed several enemy fighters, leaving room for the Broadswords to regain their positions.

The Broadswords, now reinforced, took advantage of the momentary relief to reorganize. "Delta formation," Phantom-1 ordered. "Concentrate your fire on the enemy transports. We cannot let them reach the surface."

The squadron split into two groups. One was dedicated to intercepting the Covenant troop transports, while the other kept the pressure on the Seraphs. Broadswords, armed with high-speed homing missiles, dove toward the transports. Two consecutive hits destroyed a dropship before it could reach the atmosphere.

"Transports eliminated!" Phantom-1 reported. "But more are coming."

The Longswords, heavier and designed for prolonged combat, kept the air clear. Their 50mm machine guns tore into the Seraphs' flanks, while their high-energy cannons blasted enemy fighters with accurate hits.

The space filled with crossfire as a new formation of Seraphs emerged from a nearby CCS-class cruiser. The Seraphs, coordinated, attacked from multiple directions, cutting through the UNSC fighters' defensive wings.

A Longsword pilot, under heavy fire, shouted, "I've got two on my tail! I can't shake them off."

Phantom-1 turned toward the struggling pilot. "Hold on, I'm on my way!"

In a risky maneuver, Phantom-1 performed an Immelmann turn, getting behind the Seraphs pursuing the Longsword. A burst of missiles erupted from its launchers, destroying one of the Seraphs in an explosion that lit up the Allied pilot's cockpit.

"Thanks, Phantom! That was close."

"We're not out yet," Phantom-1 replied. "Form up. They're coming at us from the right flank."

The Broadswords quickly regrouped in Delta Spearhead formation, with the Longswords behind providing heavy supporting fire. As the Seraphs entered the formation, the enemy leader attempted to cut off their advance, but the attack was too fast. Missiles and machine gun bursts pierced the enemy lines, destroying several fighters in seconds.

Phantom-1 took advantage of the confusion. "Red Wing, flank. We're taking out the remaining transports."

The team split up again, launching themselves toward three troop transports trying to avoid the lower atmosphere. The Covenant ships turned sharply, but the Broadswords fired with surgical precision, destroying the engines of two of the ships.

"Two more transports eliminated!" Phantom-1 reported. "One more on course."

Not all the news was good, however. A squadron of Seraphs that had managed to bypass the UNSC defense directly attacked the Wookiee civilian transports. A Broadsword attempted to intercept them, but its missiles missed, and a plasma bolt hit a transport full of refugees.

"Hit civilian transport!" a pilot shouted, his tone laden with helplessness. The transport exploded, sending fragments into the void. The screams on the communication channels abruptly cut off.

From the bridge of the Resolute, Cole watched the tragedy in silence. "We can't lose any more," he said in a firm voice. "Hold the line. Defend those transports with everything you've got."

-x.X.x-

The space around Kashyyyk was absolute chaos. Waves of Seraph fighters and Banshees surged in tight formation from the Covenant supercarrier, their flanks protected by CCS-class destroyers and cruisers that formed a deadly wall against the UNSC. Evacuation systems and defensive lines were on the verge of collapse, as the UNSC fleet, led by the Resolute, desperately fought to hold back the enemy advance.

"Evasive maneuvers, now!" Prestone Cole shouted, leaning toward the tactical hologram. "Have the frigates withdraw to the defensive perimeter. I want full air cover for evacuations. Don't let any transports go down!"

The Broadswords, agile and armed with homing missiles, led the charge against the waves of Seraphs. Every turn, every maneuver, was an act of survival in an environment saturated with crossfire. Explosions lit up space, sending fighter fragments flying in all directions.

"Red Wing to Resolute!" the squadron leader transmitted. "We're under heavy fire. We need support in corridor three-nine-two. We can't hold out much longer."

In response, the Longswords, with their heavy weaponry, launched themselves toward the Seraph positions, covering the Broadswords as they regrouped. The Longswords' energy cannons destroyed several enemy fighters, but the waves kept coming.

"Enemy fighter on my tail!" a Longsword pilot shouted as he performed a barrel roll. His wingman responded by launching a missile salvo that destroyed the pursuer in a blinding explosion.

From the Vanguard's bridge, the tactical operator announced, "Covering fire ready. Target: Seraph attack runners. Archer missiles on course."

A massive barrage of Archer missiles shot out from the Marathon-class cruiser, streaking across the battlefield and exploding in enemy formations. Space filled with burning fragments of destroyed Seraphs, providing momentary respite for the UNSC fighters.

"The way is clear, but not for long!" a pilot reported. "More waves are coming out of the superfreighter."

From the Resolute, Cole directed every move with surgical precision. The Marathons Ajax and Vanguard advanced aggressively toward the CCS-class cruisers, using their MAC cannons to pierce the enemy shields.

"Ajax to Horizon! Cover the left flank," Cole ordered. "No one gets close to the transports."

The Ajax, with a deafening roar, fired its MAC cannon at a CPV-class destroyer. The shell tore through the enemy shields and pierced the hull, causing an internal explosion that split the ship in two. The sacrifice was costly, however. The explosion damaged the Horizon, leaving the frigate vulnerable.

"Horizon to Resolute!" a frigate officer transmitted. "We're losing shield power. We won't be able to hold the position."

Cole clenched his fists. "Evacuate the crew if necessary! We won't let your sacrifice be in vain."

Moments later, a plasma beam struck the Horizon directly, disintegrating it in a massive explosion that shook the entire fleet.

Suddenly, the Covenant CSO-class supercarrier began moving toward low orbit of Kashyyyk. From its massive frame, it fired a continuous plasma beam that sliced ​​through the planet's jungles, vitrifying acres in seconds. Transmissions from the Wookiees on the surface filled with desperate screams and calls for help.

"They're intensifying the vitrifications!" Serina reported, her voice filled with urgency. "If this continues, the entire biosphere of Kashyyyk will be compromised."

CCS-class cruisers began maneuvering to surround the UNSC positions, while Paris-class frigates attempted to maintain defense around the Wookiee transports.

From the Sentinel's bridge, Captain Kerrigan shouted, "Cover the transports at all costs! Keep shields at maximum!"

A Reverence-class destroyer charged straight toward the frigate, firing plasma salvos that pierced the Sentinel's hull. Severely damaged, the frigate activated its automatic collision systems and deliberately rammed into the enemy destroyer, destroying it in a devastating explosion.

"The Sentinel has been destroyed!" an operator reported from the Resolute. Cole closed his eyes, feeling the weight of each loss.

Serina interrupted with new information. "Captain Cole, I'm detecting energy fluctuations in a specific sector of the supercarrier. It appears they're diverting their core to maintain vitrifications. If we can hit that section with a precise strike, we might be able to destabilize it."

Cole looked at the tactical hologram. "How vulnerable is it?"

"Not vulnerable enough for a direct attack," Serina replied. "We need a significant distraction to split their forces."

Cole nodded slowly. "Renault, prepare a squadron of Broadswords and Longswords for a lightning strike. Have the Resolute and Marathons keep the pressure on the enemy cruisers. If we can distract them, we'll have our chance."

Renault responded quickly. "The fighters are in position. They await your command, sir."

Cole looked at the tactical display, watching the supercarrier continue its destruction. "Get the fighters into action. We're going to clear a path for them like never before."

The Resolute, accompanied by the Marathons Ajax and Vanguard, launched a concentrated attack on the CCS-class cruisers. MAC cannons and Archer missiles pierced their shields, destroying two cruisers in quick succession.

Meanwhile, the squadron of Broadswords and Longswords launched themselves towards the superfreighter, using the holes in the enemy defense to penetrate its perimeter. The pilots maneuvered through a storm of enemy fire, dodging plasma bolts and troop transports as they advanced towards the core identified by Serina.

"Maintain formation!" the squadron leader shouted. "The Resolute is buying time. Do not waste their effort."

On the horizon of space, the superfreighter, still imposing, began to slowly turn, directing its attention towards the Marathons. The battle reached a brutal climax, where every maneuver and every shot would determine the fate of Kashyyyk and its inhabitants.

End of Chapter 44.