WARFARE OFFICER REPORT #17
REPORTING OFFICER: Fleet Admiral Phoenix Berkana
DATE SUBMITTED: 29th April 2026

The Cresting Storm
The bridge of the Warrior smelled of scorched ozone and the sharp, antiseptic tang of emergency fire-suppression foam. It was a scent Fleet Admiral Phoenix had grown accustomed to over decades of service, but today it hung heavier than usual.

Standing at the forward viewport, Phoenix clasped his gloved hands behind his back. His reflection in the transparisteel: soot-smudged uniform, a fresh shallow graze along his cheekbone, and eyes that had seen too many TIE hulls blossom into brief, silent sparks of fire.

Below the bridge, the primary hangar bay of the Imperial Star Destroyer was a hive of controlled chaos. Cranes groaned as they hoisted mangled TIE Defenders and Interceptors from the deck. The TIE Corps had held the line against the First Order’s fanatical onslaught, but the cost was etched into the jagged edges of the Warrior’s hull and the depleted rosters of its squadrons.

"Report," Phoenix said, his voice a calm rasp that cut through the low hum of the bridge pits.

"The First Order has halted their advance, Admiral," a communications officer replied, not looking up from a console flickering with erratic power surges. "They’ve left us with multiple ships in critical condition and the Grey Wolf and Roost are both reporting a fracture in the primary reactor shielding. We’re leaking fuel across two sectors."

Phoenix nodded slowly. "Signal the fleet. We cannot hold this position for a counter-attack. Coordinate with the Hammer and the Challenge. We are falling back to the Gasriese System."
"Gasriese, sir?"
"The fuel depot there is still under our jurisdiction," Phoenix confirmed. "It’s remote, shielded by the nebular interference, and it has the refined isotopes we need to prepare for a counter-attack. Move us out."

The Gasriese System
The Warrior’s snapped back to relative space. The trail of debris stretched out behind it. A tail that told the tale of its conflicts.. On the bridge, the silence was almost more unsettling than the roar of the battle had been just hours prior.

He looked out at the fleet. The TIE Corps had survived, the First Order’s vanguard may have been broken , but they had revealed themselves at last to the Emperor’s Hammer. The threat was undeniable..

"Status of the fleet," Phoenix commanded. His voice was steady, a grounded anchor for the exhausted crew in the pits.

"We are clear of the combat theater, Admiral," a bridge officer replied, his voice trembling with fatigue. "No sign of pursuit from the First Order.

The Gasriese Fueling Depot is dead ahead. Sensors show the automated beacons are active."

"Good," Phoenix said, turning as the turbolift doors hissed open.

High Admiral Plif stepped onto the bridge. His presence was a stark reminder of the fleet’s resilience. Despite the chaos of the preceding twelve hours, Plif’s posture remained iron-clad, though the grim set of his jaw betrayed the weight of the casualty reports he carried in his hand.

The Gasriese Sanctuary
As the fleet drifted into the shadow of the Gasriese depot, a sprawling skeleton of fuel spires and docking rings, the impact of their survival became clear. The system was bathed in the soft, blue glow of a dying nebula, casting long, peaceful shadows across the Star Destroyer’s battered superstructure.

"Phoenix," Plif said, joining him at the viewport. He didn't offer a salute; there was no need for formalities between men who had just escaped the abyss. "The Grey Wolf is reporting stable reactor levels, but they’re thirsty. If we hadn't made this jump now, we would have been drifting within the hour."

"Our pilots are spent, Plif," Phoenix admitted, looking at the blinking lights of the TIE squadrons on the battle boards. "They held the line against the First Order’s interceptors, but I’ve got wings flying on emergency reserves and pilots who can barely see their HUDs."

"Then let them sleep while they can," Plif replied firmly. "The Hammer's Fist has secured the station's interior. We are officially in a cold zone. I have to brief Rapier and Kamjin. They’re going to want a plan to maintain this location and what our opportunities will be to harass the First Order’s line.”
Phoenix rubbed his temples. Sleep would have to wait for most of them. He turned to one of the crew chiefs. “Contact the quartermaster to send up more caf.”

With the closure of the final battle, this years Imperial Storm comes to a end. This years iteration was heavily aimed at moving the EH story-arc along, perhaps more so that recent years in that we close out with a valiant rear-guard action that has seen the TIE Corps re-assemble at Gasriese, the system with a fuel depot that we fought for in 2025 with fleet that is in need of the TLC afforded by Squadron ReMobilization in June. Quite where the story-arc goes from here is known to but a few, but it should be a interesting ride nonetheless!

This year saw 68 pilots take a turn at flying in the competition, all of whom will be receiving the new Campaign Medal designed by Robert Hogan!

Further statistics & a survey will be dropping before the end of the week as we seek to garner feedback whilst the iron is hot.

NEXT up - June for Squadron ReMobilization!

WO/FA Phoenix Berkana/TC-4/ISDII Warrior/Battlegroup II
GSx5/SSx4/BSx11/PCx25/ISMx28/MoI-BC/MoC-7doc-7poc-7goc-8soc-59boc/MUA/IS-GW-3SW-4BW-5CW-2GR-5SR-34BR-CR/ORA-1C/LoC-CS/LoS-1PS/CoLx12/CoB/LoA/OV-26E [Decurion] [Marksman 4th] [Ranger 4th]
{TCCORE-SM/1/2/5-WIKI}