Star Wars: A Risen Rebellion [IC/Open]

by **United Nations Confederation of Earth** » Wed Jul 03, 2019 1:55 am

Captain Jack Cochrane
INS Triumph, Imperial Navy Task Force Charlie 7-7
Asteroid Field, Apatros System, Savareen Sector

Jack gazed through the viewscreen onto the Planet below tuning out the bustle of the bridge behind him. Apastros was a desolate featureless world of barren rocky flatlands. Bar a few settlements, mining facilities for the rich ore present and the pirates that had up till recently occupied the system it was devoid of life. His gaze was shifted from the planet as a squadron of twelve TIE/LN fighters silently flew past as part of Charlie 7-7’s Combat Air Patrol. While the pirates had been dealt with, the Rebellion was in full swing when they had left Nelvaan Naval Station back in the Koobi System, before they had lost contact with the station upon engaging the pirates in orbit due to a communications jammer.

They had since been unable to raise communications with Nelvaan, even after destroying the Jammer. Adding to the problems was that after the pirates had been dealt with the Triumph’s age had once again reared its head. The Hyperdrive had unexpectedly broken down. Not having the parts necessary for repairs on hand, communications down and him being unwilling to forcefully appropriate the parts from Apatros’s small population meant the engineers were forced to scavenge what they from the Triumph’s escorts and whatever was left from pirate wrecks. This left the Triumph a target that couldn’t run.

The rebels were known for their reliance on Starfighters and attacking opportune targets. And while the INS Triumph was a powerful and formidable Star Destroyer, she was old, undermanned and underequipped, unlike her escorts. Her massive hangers operated only seventy-two starfighters and twenty-four shuttles when they could be holding four-hundred and twenty. Only five-thousand of the seven thousand four hundred needed crewed her, making shifts longer for everyone onboard. The Triumph was also only carrying a single Battalion of Imperial Marines and two platoons of Zero-G Troopers.

“Captain, Engineering reports that repairs will be finished by the hour.” The Core World accent of Commander Elayne Talia, his XO on-board the Triumph informed him. Talia was seven years his senior and had been stationed aboard the Triumph prior to his arrival. He had feared she would be resentful of his posting but as a career officer, she had taken it in stride, publicly at least. Despite being in her mid-thirties she retained a youthful appearance despite emerging wrinkles, her brown hair showed no signs of greyness, her green eyes still shone. Like him, she had attended the Naval Academy on Prefsbelt IV but had worked her way up from Ensign to Commander.

“Excellent, we can finally leave this system. Have we been able to reach Nelvaan?” Jack asked turning to look at her.

“We’re still unable to contact the station. Whatever the issue is, it is still not on our end.” Came her reply.

“Very well then, I’ll inform all ships to prepare to jump to Hyperspace upon the OK from Engineering. And have the crew on Alert Class B, I’ll have the other captains do the same.”

“Alert Class B Sir?”

“We have been unable to contact Command for three months. Something has happened. Maintenance wasn't scheduled when we left, and it doesn’t take this long for any communication system aboard that station to be fixed it was damaged after we left. So, something is jamming the station or they're ignoring our hails.”

“It is suspicious that Nelvaan hasn’t responded, I still say we should have taken the parts from the planet's inhabitants,” Talia stated.

“The civilians refused to sell us the parts. We’re meant to protect the Empire, not to terrorise it and extort what we need. I would have sent a ship ahead of the main Squadron to request the parts needed, but if Rebels have taken the station then without the support of the rest of the ships, none of our escorts could stand up to the station's defences.”

“You believe the Rebels have taken the station?”

“It’s a possibility. A friend in Intelligence mentioned the Rebels were up to something big before we deployed. With our Squadron away, the station only has a single Lancer Frigate for defence beyond its own capabilities. It is undermanned like we are. There was also a transport with parts, fuel, and supplies that was supposed to arrive a day after we left. A promising target if you were a Rebel.”

"Would they really be so bold as to take a Naval Station? Even a small one in the Outer-Rim?" She queried.

"If you had asked me two years ago, I would have said no. But now, after Yavin and Hoth, I wouldn’t put it past them. They’ve become bolder over recent years,” Talia seemed to hum in agreement, “I’ll brief the other Captains. You ensure the Triumph is ready for Hyperspace jump and inform the CAG I want all squadrons ready to scramble when we jump out.”

“Sir.” Talia saluted before turning and walking back down walkway separating the crew pits. Jack took one last look out the viewport before heading towards the back of the Starboard Bridge where the COMMs and Holotable were located, he had a squadron to organise. He'd air on the side of caution, at least until the fate of the station was known.

by **Britanania** » Wed Jul 03, 2019 1:55 pm

The Admonitor--Three Months Ago

Shortly after the Grand Admiral's conversation with Admiral Zsinj, Thrawn returned to his meditation room as he plotted his next course of action. With Zsinj working on matters internally to stabilise the Empire, Thrawn's attention turned towards the more pressing issue of destroying the Rebellion while it was still in its infancy before it could reach the Core and make serious trouble for the Empire.

Thrawn was deep in thought when Captain Niriz's voice rang through the intercom.

"Grand Admiral," the man said apologetically, "I had no wish to disrupt you, but we've run afoul some trouble." Thrawn raised a blue eyebrow before he pressed the button to reply.

"Trouble, captain?"

"We've run into a Corvette, sir, on the edge of Imperial space. They tried to resist and we've apprehended them. After some interrogation, they claim that they are harbouring the Emperor's daughter. I initially thought this was a joke, as His Majesty had no children, but I've placed the woman in question in a confined cell."

Thrawn did not reply for some time, but when he did it was not what Niriz expected.

"I will see her for myself."

Thrawn calmly entered the woman's cell and looked at the dark haired human over.

She bears the look of a Nubian human, he conceded silently. Plus the unmistakable bearing of one raised in the Imperial Court. Yes, she even resembles the girl I met long ago.

"Your Highness," he said stiffly. "You know who I am."

Kashyyyk--Present Day

The destruction of the Imperial squadron was nearly inevitable. Syn was a competent commander in his own right but cut off from Coruscant and with the full might of the Third Fleet, he stood little chance. The situation on the planet, however, was a different story.

The Imperial Garrison on Kashyyyk boasted some of the strongest ground defences in the Empire. It needed to, in order to stave off the repeated insurrections that plagued Kashyyyk for the better part of two decades. It soldiers were hardened, experienced, and used to fighting in brutal conditions, and better yet, amongst the best COIN operatives in the Empire.

The main garrison served also as the administrative centre of the planet and the near-impenetrable fortress of Grand Moff Hindane Darcc. He ordered the immediate lockdown of the planet once contact with Syn was lost and to prepare for the inevitable invasion.

by **Ormata** » Wed Jul 03, 2019 2:40 pm

Adm Gharro Volte
Freedom’s Call, 405th Battle Squadron
Kashyyyk, Kashyyyk System, Mytaranor Sector

“A Rebel strike force will land...here.”

The bridge’s holoemitter was lit-up with a map of Kashyyyk, color-coded of course, and the few members of the warship’s organic command crew stood about it, the Captains from the other ships there as well. The droids worked behind them, blissfully uncaring to the minor detailing of the overall tactical plan. They would be ready for anything in the literal sense. Each of command crew’s uniforms was old, each of their faces just a little haggard, but their eyes? Their eyes were just a little happy. Just a little happy because they would be able to make a real, actual difference this time, this battle, instead of just being as they’d always been. Raiding commerce seemed to be important the first year, less so the next, less so the next until there had been the eventual expectation that it was simply the only thing they could do.

This time, though? This time they were doing something. This time they were freeing a place, a slave planet that had been used for labor. Only issue with it was the history behind the forest world, the fact that the Battle of Kashyyyk so many years ago had been so brutal, so cruel, and so ruthless. The fact that the CIS had employed Trandoshan slavers didn’t help the case at all either. But no, this time things would be different. This time things would go right.

A chem-pen in his hand, the Admiral gestured to one specific location, the point highlighting as red. It was near several blue sectors, representing Imperial positions numerically as to be better identified, while the rest of the planet was colored in a light blue, almost white, to represent Imperial influenced areas but not necessarily Imperial controlled. Of course, the map would change rapidly once the assaults had begun with the light blue turning red in the ideal scenario. The rest of the command staff nodded, Flight Officer raising his voice in a question. The Corellian didn’t have a lot of questions, most of the time.

“How many’s the SpecForce group?”

“Around two squads, specialists and saboteurs. They’ll insert with a captured Sentinel-Class Landing Craft under Imperial notice into the area before attacking points Able, Baker, and Charlie,” he emphasized each name with a motion of the chem-pen, the points lighting up and little pillars extending out from them, “with aid from the local Wookie resistance and Rebel cells already planetside. Information on their targets is on your sheets, but generally these are SAM sites, a few heavy turbolaser batteries courtesy of scrapped and repurposed Munificent-Class hulks, and jamming facilities. Main SAM sites are here-“ another jab, “and here, with a centralized command bunker here at Charlie.”

“These Anti-Cap or Anti-Fighter SAMs?”

“Likely Anti-Fighter; Alliance Intelligence states that Imperial forces expected light ships only, your fighters and corvettes, hence the small fleet in orbit. Kashyyyk’s been fortified against insurrection, not invasion, and frankly enough it’s shown.”

The Engineer let-out a belly shaking chuckle, smile on his face as he wiped a hand over his oil-covered coveralls. “Well they were fekking wrong there. Hell with those pricks.”

Chuckles all around; well no, the four-oh-fifth hadn’t been expected by most of anyone but usually that was the point. Gharro knew that. Heck, the Home One most definitely hadn’t been expected. “Damn straight. Likely to be area ion missiles, concs, things like that. Little to no damage to us, but they’ll play merry hell with any landing craft we try to use to get reinforcements onto the beach. As such, their destruction is top priority for the SpecForce group.”

“Any ETA for the group?”

“Landing in around fifteen mikes. Once the SAMs and jamming sites are down, we start our turn. Freedom’s Call will set Condition Three once the call’s made, as well as a simultaneous Condition Two. Flight crews will man their stations, pilots to be briefed on station. Engineering will prep the ship for atmospheric entry, emergency brakes and thrusters included. Freedom’s Call will station here-“ another jab, this time Volte held the chem-pen there, “at 20k meters.”

“Admiral, you want us to shove the entire damn ship up their re-“

“Yeah, though the press will make it a little more glamorous than that. We’ll participate in close fire support with main turbolaser batteries to wipe-out marked enemy bunker installations, fortified positions, anything the army can’t take out rapidly. Speed will be essential to their goals and to the victory on the ground, so we’ll help the poor pricks with that. Squadrons will seek to provide air support as required and requested. Troops will be landed as required. Questions?”

The Sullustian shifted first, scratching at his face and nodding to himself. “We’ve gotten number two up and ready, so technically Condition Three can be set, but I’d feel a lot more comfortable if I got a chance to bring three up. As it is, if we sustain just a little more damage in the aft this’ll go tits-up almost immediately. The hull breaches were patched and integrity’s good there. Emergency brakes and thrusters might have some minor troubles, especially if we start taking heavy fire aft.”

“While I appreciate your concerns on the engines, time is not on our side. Never has been, never will. Imperial Navy will eventually learn of their defeat in orbit and will send a reinforcing force...it’ll be more than just two ISDs and a couple Interdictors. We can’t afford to wait. As it stands, trust in the landed force and trust in the fact that we’ll be able to stab them before they can stab us.”

A pause. It was a long pause.

“What about the rest of the Squadron?” The Captain of the Revenge said, face wry as he considered it all. Lauth’s ship had been practically rendered incapable of combat, the Heavy Cruiser struck down by a helluva lot of punches, and the man’s concern for what the Admiral wanted his ship to do showed.

“Not A Chance will take up position here-“ another jab, this time at around the same position as the Freedom’s Call would be placed but just a little to the rear of the supposed point, “low orbit, to keep any Imperial Reinforcements off of us. Imminent will take up station here, Corellia’s Bluff here, and Agency here-“ each of the points was a jab, each of them roughly two kilometers off of the flagship’s point, “with your ships being in low planetary orbit as a screen. The Revenge will make all available repairs to her hyperdrive and withdraw to Central for repairs.”

“What’s expected for planetary defense forces? TIE/ln’s, bombers, or what?” The Flight Officer spoke up this time again, his concern rather obvious considering that was what would be expected to face and the plan essentially put the Freedom’s Call at the mercy of her own devices. His hands jabbed into his pockets, leaning in to the hologlobe as he was.

“Reserve squadrons, with starfighters looks to number around 72, if that, of TIE/ln’s. Some may be in a semi-combat ability due to incomplete repairs. Our flak batteries as well as fighters can take care of that. Atmospheric fighter combat is our domain...Imperial pilots don’t turn as hard as a Vulture and if they try they’ll rip a wing or pass out. Not A Chance’s wings will keep her safe.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Now...anything else?”

Another pause, the Admiral looking about the room before yet again nodding his head once.

“Right then. Load up your craft and make ready as required. Now, there is still the damaged Immobilizer 418-Class Interdictor to discuss. Buzz Droids were able to access ship ventilation areas through the numerous hull breaches, giving them ability to free roam throughout the area. As such, full control was gained...” a check of the chrono, “just around thirty minutes ago. It’s been reported that the vessel’s remaining crew were moved to this compartment by life support shutdowns. A surrender has been forced.” A holographic display of the vessel came up, numerous red sectors indicating damage across her hull with gray voids showing areas of partial restoration. Green was in little specs and splots here and there, a painter dropping a few leftovers by accident, mostly in the forward areas of the vessel.

Volte swallowed, shaking his head at the words he was about to have to say or rather wanted to say. Didn’t have to say it but fuck it, the guys over there had done hard work and they asked for the name specifically. “Local engineering damage control teams decided to start to refer to her as Three’s A Crowd over internal comms based on the...apparent fact that whenever three people were in her engineering space something exploded and frankly enough the name’s stuck. Might as well call her that. Ad hoc commissioning ceremony was completed just over ten minutes ago, formal to be done after the battle. The ship’ll have a compliment of five organics, fifty of the droid crew, a skeleton compliment to say the least. Mon Cal’ll get her some more. Now, I would like you to meet...” A pointed finger to a nearby motionless B-1 and a holo of another figure appeared on the table, the ship schematic dissolving into ionized air. He wasn’t a particularly good looking man, not with five vicious scars running about his face, not with the burnt skin shaving off portions of his left side of his head, balding him asymmetrically, but the man’s posture was straight, his compitence already proven in previous years.

“This is Acting Lieutenant Famide, formerly Major Famide of the Izonz Resistance on Corellia. He’ll have control over Three’s A Crowd and maneuver her back to Mon Calamari Shipyards for full repairs. Lieutenant?”

“Sir. Gentlemen, it’s a pleasure. Current repairs are still underway with much of the interior still left decompressed to save power. Reactor Two has been wound-down due to major fault in the interior isolation chambers, so for the most part our systems are powered down. Gravity Well Generators are included in those systems. We have restored the hyperdrive to full function. Estimated time of arrival at Mon Calamari Shipyards is ten days.”

“Very good. Dismissed!”

The meeting had reconvened, albeit with the notable exceptions of Captain Lauth and Acting Lieutenant Famide, whose ships had already departed the area to get their respective ships repaired and ready to go. Volte had significant plans for the Three’s A Crowd; the maneuver performed by the Imperials in orbit gave him ideas on where he might place a heavy cruiser in the future. Outmaneuvering an opponent in an instant, especially one like the Imperial Navy whose ships had full forward firepower, little aft? That made him happy. That made the creative juices flow. The Revenge was a somewhat different story, though she’d be just as useful. A factory ship would be necessary in order for Volte to keep doing what he wanted and needed to do.

But the situation on the ground had changed and changed fast. They could no longer wait for the SpecForce operatives to perform their operations, no longer wait for the boys and girls on the ground to do what they said they were going to do. The SAM sites would be hit, true, but not by demolitionists. CIS turbolasers would find the mark just as easily, hit just as hard if not harder. The Imperial garrison was hunkering-down, getting ready, getting moving and if the 405th moved fast enough...maybe it could outpace them. Maybe. If anything they could bring the attention away from the ground and into the air, into the air and towards the ships.

“Gentlemen, we’ve received word that the situation has changed. Imperial forces have received word of their orbital defeat and are preparing to receive us. This is not acceptable. Ready your ships for immediate entry.”

The Battle had begun and the warship, after making her emergency repairs, and begun the descent down and down and down. Atmosphere whipped about the cruiser’s bridge, those aboard her ready and waiting, and she shook like the devil himself was knocking on the door. There wasn’t a lot of things Volte wanted less than a ground assault on Kashyyyk but...well, there was at least one benefit. The Wookies would be on their side. Rather, on the Rebellion’s side maybe. He hoped that they wouldn’t be too angry about certain things but maybe...maybe there was something he could do to give them a bit of hope. The ship shook again, chem-pen dancing on the charting table to a click clack clack clack click tempo, and Volte could see fire lick at their bow, burning up against the outer particle shielding and heavy hull plating.

“50,000,” toned one of the inorganic bridge crew, a temple bell.

Passing by the bridge, by the warship and her escorts, ran down the Vulture droids, their engines blasting away as they made their own low approaches. There was a simple, brutally simple method to his plan. The fighters would lead, get shot at, drop their flares and bugger out like bastards and the Freedom’s Call would demonstrate precisely what that title meant. Volte had some small idea of what a full turbolaser broadside sounded like when in atmo and it was one heck of a thing. It sounded like an angel’s choir or a demon’s chorus, though, depending on whose turbolasers were doing it. Minor issue was the idea of forest fires but, in all honesty, that was small and slight compared to what they were gaining. The forest might crisp, but the Imperials? They would fry. They would fry like bastards.

“45,000,” same droid again, same precise tone. Sure, it helped to have someone call it out but it made Volte just a little nervous. Felt like a death dream.

The shaking intensified, though, and Imperial TIEs rose up to meet them. A few smaller patrols, the sort of thing one expects of a reserve planetary defense force, that was what the planet threw up to meet them. The Freedom’s Call gave the first response, a salvo from the flak guns blasting away. Flak was a heck of a thing in a vacuum but even in atmosphere they were deadly weapons...especially to unshielded ships. Black clouds of smoke discolored the air around the Imperial formations, some fighters getting torn into by the metal shrapnel, some of those keeping on flying and some of those detonating immediately. A few had a wing severed and, now unstable, they tumbled down to earth and forest, down and down. The Vultures, though, they didn’t go like one expected them to. A straight-on fight would work, yes, but the 100-odd fighters didn’t really want that. They wanted a zero loss victory. Missiles away, each of the them leaving trails of vapor and exhaust through the air, and immediately the starfighters made a dive. They would be true power dives, intent to create the most speed physically possible, around close to pointing straight down to the ground. Just behind the Vultures, though? That was a different story.

The Tri-Fighters followed up there, engines blasting as they closed distance with the TIE/ln’s. It was a heck of bad place, that, considering the options it gave the organics. They didn’t have the altitude advantage, the potential energy. They didn’t have the energy advantage, already being slower than many of the droid fighters. They didn’t have the maneuverability advantage. They most certainly didn’t have the firepower advantage. It was a bad place. Some of them took the immediate reaction, the easy reaction, diving straight down for the Vulture droids. Some pilots blacked out, not able to handle the intense G-forces one found in a gravity well. Some pilots had their fighters tear a wing, those same G-forces taking the connecting spar and breaking it like a dry twig. Incomplete repairs had that unfortunate effect. So did shrapnel, flak. And some? Some kept up the dive. They were nearly lucky, their motions helping to dodge two, three missiles by virtue of turn radiuses, though the Tri-Fighters started up their own attack runs on the ships. Light repeaters ran wild, another missile salvo on the part of the Rebel flights and impacts lit-up the air as the dogfighting commenced, the air lit-out by hundreds of white-yellow balls of flame as the Imperials deployed flares.

From down below, the Imperial ground forces had risen-up to meet them in their own ways. SAM sites launched their missiles into the sky, dirty grey streaks of thunder and lightning aimed at the fighter squadrons. They launched their own flares of course, many of them maneuvering out of the way and down to the earth, down and down they went to outpace the missiles. A few of the fighters had the air about them explode with force, hulls going supersonic and concussive blasts from that entry like a madman with a hammer and a roomful of nails. The Providence gave her response, a dozen volleys from the flak guns and lighter turbolasers following down to where the SAMs had originated, down and down, through the dogfight and the missiles and the flares, down and air bursting just a dozen meters above the enemy positions.

“40,000.”

The Freedom’s Call kept on falling, falling and falling and falling with the flames hungrily licking at the whole length of the warship. The XO stared at her screen, eyes boring into it as though trying to win a battle of wills. She wanted to deploy the flaps just right, at the correct time, at the correct place. Doing anything else would spell disaster in one manner or another. Deploy them too early and the ship might have to waste precious time in taking up her fire support position. Deploy them too late and you risk building up too much speed and plowing into the trees. Of course, there was always the voice in the back of the head that wanted the flaps deployed now, immediately, that they shouldn’t have entered in without them already deployed and that risking more time meant they might break. A flap breaking would be a bitch, too, maybe nothing or maybe a destabilizing event.

“Deploy atmo flaps!”

“Deploying flaps...35,000. 34,000. 33,000.” It started to count down the distance in thousands, close enough to make you still sweat but...slowing. Slowing gradually, true, but slowing. Tactical moved himself up, watching the holomap with keen interest. His job was simple...direct fire support as all needed. He watched as the TIE/ln pilots moved themselves up from the forest tree lines and into the fray, up and up, many of them feeling an urge to maneuver to support rather than conceal something more useful like hiding their hangars. There were distinct points on the surface, very distinct points. The same B-1 continued his droning of the meters in thousands, the bell tone fading into a background of heavy vibration and equipment shifting about. The chem-pen sped up it’s frantic little dance.

“Sir, request weapons lock for targets...Gold, Silver, Red.” Each name he tapped onto the holomap, typing in a series of coordinates as well as the name on the attached console. “Suspect enemy hang-“

“Granted.”

“Aye sir!” The man nearly rushed himself over to the internal comms, nearly ran, picking them up before relaying the orders. There was a lot a Providence-Class warship could do from their position, even if she was still technically falling. They were relayed with machine speed, heavy turbolasers and flak cannons aiming themselves downwards towards the planet and adjusting their aim as the ship fell. Constantly training, they held their fire until the vessel completely stopped.

“25,000.” Click clack clack clack click.

“Sir, Not A Chance reports she’s in position...fleet holding position. Requesting if we require fire support from her squadrons.”

“Negative, XO, conta-“

“20,000. Stationed.”

“Fire at will, Tactical!”

The man didn’t even make his reply to the Admiral, instead having the Freedom’s Call make his retort for him, turbolasers blasting down with concussive force onto the three targets. A bunker was one thing, shields were one thing, but just a hangar, open as it was, exposed as it was? They were easy meat. Impacts along the roof, though whatever armor they might have there, and down into the bays where ammunition and fuel was spelled death for the ground crews and pilots there. Their lightweight natures meant effective disintegration for the structures, metal corpses raining down with the fire and smoke into the underbrush.

The ship’s vibrations slowed down to the steady, low motion of the ship’s rumbling engines, the chem-pen laying down for a short little break in it’s life, and the reports came in on their various hits. They were good hits, damn good hits, and the remaining fighters in the air were mopped up by the Vultures and Tri-Droids working in tandem. Many of them returned back to the Freedom’s Call, returned to refuel and rearm before setting out again. Some of them took up formation with the capital ship, ready to dive down like their own namesake.

“Inform Admiral Ackbar that the Freedom’s Call is in position. Begin the bombardment of painted targets, the SAMs, jammers, and that main compound.”

“Aye, sir.”

by **White Bluff** » Wed Jul 03, 2019 9:20 pm

The Admonitor--Three months ago

Traya sat in her cell as she waited for whomever was her captor, she hoped it was someone she knew, but also dreaded the fact it could be an enemy such as the Rebels or Jedi. The door then opened, she stood as a Chiss man walked through and looked her over before speaking, "Your Highness," he said stiffly. "You know who I am."

She searched her memories for only a moment before his face and name came to mind, "Admiral Thrawn? Your alive?"

Thrawn gave a slight nod and folded his hands behind his back.
"Very much alive. The rumours of my demise are not only exaggerated, but were necessary for my missions in the Unknown Regions." The male Chiss gave a short pause before he pointed to his insignia.
"And it is Grand Admiral now, not that it matters much now. No doubt you were trying to escape the situation on Coruscant?"

She nods to his explanation, Missions in the Unknown Regions? Does he mean the Empire of the Hand?
"Congratulations on the promotion, Grand Admiral. And yes, I was in hope that there was something out here. You see I saw some paperwork of father's, it dealt with the Unknown Regions, something called the Empire of the Hand," She shrugs.

Thrawn ignored her comment on the Empire of the Hand as he opened his mouth.
"In any event, Your Highness, I will be taking you back to Coruscant in a short while," he said, anticipating this would garner a response.

She froze for a second, "the planet is in chaos, they celebrate my father's death, and wish to restore the Republic. I feared for my life, that's why I left."

The Grand Admiral gave a slight smile.
"Yes, it was, but by the time we return Admiral Zsinj will have full control over Coruscant, and you, my dear Princess Traya, will be crowned Empress."

She also smiles lightly, "I'm not sure if I'm ready to be crowned just yet, to be fully honest."
She takes a deep breath, "fine, I shall follow your lead Thrawn, but I do request a bit more protection, what was it that Amidala did? Decoys?"

Thrawn looked the young woman over again, his red eyes giving little indication of his thoughts or feelings on any matter.
"I am not interested in running the Empire, Your Highness," he stated bluntly. "In the coming months, as we prepare our return to Coruscant, I will explain a great many things to you that few were privy to."

She simply nods, "your one in a million, " she smiles, "I would be quite interested to hear what those things are Grand Admiral, especially if it had to do with my father."
She paused, "Now I assume I am not to be kept in a cell? And if you would be inclined to release my crew and return them to my ship."

The Grand Admiral pressed a button near the door of the cell that released Traya's electric shackles.
"You'll be moved into a secure room not far from my quarters," he told her as he gestured to the door. "Your crew is welcomed to stay on their ship, but it will be impounded until we return to Coruscant."

"So be it," she nods and walks out the door, and waits for him to join her. "I do hope none of my crew was injured, it would a shame for whomever was responsible."

Thrawn followed closely behind in calm, confident strides. He did not reply to Traya's words, but merely walked with his armed escorts through the ship. After a few moments he overtook the younger woman and led her to the quarters he promised.
"We'll talk later, " he told Traya. "For now, it will be best to keep your identity hidden until we return to Coruscant."

"Yes sir," she looked around her room. "May I ask why though?"

"I like to keep all my sabacc cards close to home before the deal is over," Thrawn explained.

"I see," she walks over to the bed and sits on it, "Now if you excuse me, it's been a long day, and I would like to sleep. You are dismissed Grand Admiral." She gives him a nod.

Thrawn gave a polite bow and without saying another word exited the princess' quarters, the automatic doors shitting behind him. He turned to one of the troopers at the ready.
"Make sure no one enters or leaves that room who isn't Her Highness without my permission," he instructed before making his way back to his meditation room, his mind buzzing at the new opportunities that presented to him.

The Admonitor--Present Day

Traya paced in her quarters as she waited for them to finally arrive at Coruscant, she was nervous. I am to be Empress, these are my people, they will bow to me before the end of the day. She took a deep breath and sat to meditate, her focus was the words of Darth Traya, "Be careful of charity and kindness, lest you do more harm with open hands then a clenched fist." and "If you are to truly understand, then you will need the contrast, not adherence to a single idea." With her mind now calm she walked to the door, opened it and asked one of the Troopers, "how much longer till we arrive at Coruscant?"

"We're are here, Your Majesty. We are waiting for permission to land."

She nods, "and how long will that take?"

"We'll have no idea, Your Majesty."

She gave a short breath as a response, and went back into the room, to go back to meditation.

(Special thanks to Brit for the collaboration post you see above)

by **Brusia** » Wed Jul 03, 2019 11:17 pm

Jedi General Martius Shan
Coruscant
Jedi Temple
19BBY

HoloNet News Update

"Reporting live from Coruscant: despite having been cleared by the Senate of any war crime charges, reports from sources within the Jedi Temple indicate that the controversial actions of decorated Jedi General Martius Shan at Tinnel IV are to be tried by the Jedi Council. Despite destroying an estimated 14 million battle droids and additional Separatist assets, reports indicate some 50,000 civilians were killed in the orbital bombardment ordered by General Shan on that world. While some in the Senate were quick to condemn the action, many, including Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, viewed it as necessary to prevent the Separatists from conquering the planet, and some seemed to show little sympathy for a population which defected to the Separatists.

After the conclusion of Shan's trial, the Chancellor declared General Shan to be "a great asset to the Republic" and awarded him the Chancellor's Service Medal. Shan had previously twice been awarded the Bronze Crescent, the Gold Crescent, the Mark of Dedication, the Medal of Progress, the Medallion of Honor, and the Cross of Glory, the Republic's highest military honor. The trial was also met with protests from anti-war activists, despite widespread condemnation of many such groups following the Jedi Temple bombing. In other news, Galactic markets saw yet another downtick today as..."

The HoloNet console in Martius' humble quarters in the Jedi Temple was switched off by a Temple Guard who approached Martius and informed him: "It's time." Martius meanwhile had been flipping through a list of known civilian causalities at Tinnel, but stopped on the picture of an 8 year girl which he'd been staring at now for a few hours.

"Have you prepared a defense?" the Guard asked.

Martius continued looking at the picture and stated: "This little girl's name was Kailyr. Her bio says she'd just won a interplanetary competition for an essay on a proposition for peace between the Republic and the CIS. What a bright future this young woman would've had..."

"I beg your pardon?" the Guard asked again.

"What defense could there possibly be for ending this girl's life?" Martius asked rhetorically while standing to follow the Temple Guards.

"So be it" the Guard replied brusquely before leading Martius to the High Council chamber for his trial...

Martius Kellar and Major Gida Amersu
Kashyyyk
Shadowlands
Present Day

After they finished making their battle plans, the group had a few hours to kill while waiting for the Wookiee messengers to reach the other Resistance cells, and the Major ordered her group to use the time to get some needed rest. Chieftain Chrawk invited Gida and Martius to stay in his home, and not wanting to be impolite, the two accepted. The two stayed in adjacent rooms, and while Gida was able to quickly fall asleep, with the busy events of the day Martius hadn't had a chance to drink; indeed for the first time in years he hadn't even thought of drinking, and was tossing and turning in his sleep as the liquid wall that protected him from bitter memories began to collapse.

After moving through his usual dream of the bombardment, his mind suddenly flashed white and a little girl appeared, a girl that even after all these years he remembered with crystal clarity. As she appeared, he began to toss and turn more violently. When the girl asked: "Why?" he began to mutter: "No..." and when she continued: "Why did I have to die?" Martius shot awake in a cold sweat screaming: "NOOO!!!" Prompting Gida to crash through the door a few moments later with blaster pistol in hand, scanning the room for threats. Seeing none, she looked to Martius and asked: "Everything okay in here?"

"Yeah..." Martius replied while getting out of bed "yeah, just a nightmare."

"Guess it's just as well" Gida replied with a sigh while lowering her blaster "We need to start getting prepped to head out anyway."

Martius nodded as he lit a lantern in the room, struggling slightly as his hands began to shake. As light filled the room, Gida looked at Martius and saw extensive scars on Martius' back and chest as he turned around to face here. She flashed a perplexed look for a moment, as she recognized clearly that those were the scars of a soldier; both physical and psychological. She was snapped out of it when Martius stated: "I'll get ready and join you in a minute."

Gida just nodded and replied "Sure" then went back to her room to get ready herself. Once she was gone, Martius picked up his jacket and grabbed his flask out, taking a hearty swig to once again drown out his memories. After that he got dressed and grabbed his supplies then met up with Gida and Chrawk who were speaking with one of the Wookiee messengers. "Good news I hope?" he asked Chrawk.

"Grrrrghaaga, nyrr hrung."

"Glad to hear it" Martius replied, then turning to Gida, he stated: "He said the other Resistance cells have agreed to help us, they're ready to move as soon as we are."

"Good" Gida replied "Thank you Chieftain, and please thank the members of the other cells for me." Handing Chrawk a signalling device, she stated "I'll send you a signal as soon as me and my troops are in position; with any luck by the end of today your people will be free."

Chrawk nodded, then handed two modified sonic emitters to attract the Kashyyyk wildlife for the Pathfinders to use as a distraction, prompting Gida to nod in return.

As Gida then left to prepare her troops to move out, Martius shook hands with Chrawk and stated: "Stay safe out there my friend" then joined back up with the Major and her Pathfinders.

"Alright everyone!" Gida stated once the troops were assembled "You all know the drill, keep it low and slow out there; don't want to do anything to risk giving our position away before we reach the target. Now let's move out!"

The Pathfinder group was utterly silent as they approached the Imperial base, moving like phantoms across the wooded land. Though not accustomed to moving quite so stealthily, the former Jedi's training and experience still served him well, and he had little difficulty keeping up with the Major and her troops. When the wall surrounding the Imperial compound came in view, the Major shot up a hand signal and her Pathfinders quickly ducked into cover behind nearby trees and rocks, while Martius stuck close and hid right next to her. With everyone concealed, she activated her signaling device to let the Wookiees know they were in position.

Chrawk signaled back, though it wasn't particularly necessary; the sounds of explosions and the plume of smoke rising in the distance was evidence enough that they'd begun their attack on the outpost. It seemed the Wookiees didn't exactly share the Pathfinders' penchant for subtlety. As some of the defenders, most importantly some of the AT-STs, left their positions to relieve their beleaguered comrades, Gida activated the modified emitters and tossed them over the wall in different directions, quickly grabbing the attention of much of the violent wildlife which clambered from all directions into the base.

The Pathfinders made sure to stick close to Martius, whose normally functioning emitter kept the wildlife away from those around him. With many defenders drawn out by the Wookiees, and many others occupied fighting the planet's various aggressive beasts, the Major, Martius, and a group of Pathfinders approached the wall. "Alright" the Major stated: "The Imps are occupied for now, but we're going to have to blast our way through this wall, and that's still going to bring a whole lot of attention our way, so make sure you're all..."

Martius took a deep breath, looking at the soldiers around him and wondering how many might lose their lives trying to fight through the wall once the Imperials discovered them, then interrupted: "Major, if I may, I have a quieter way through the wall, but you must give me your word that neither you nor your troops will speak of it."

The Major shot him a curious glance, figuring he must have some sort of classified piece of equipment or some such, and replied simply: "Fine, just make it fast."

Martius nodded, and reached into the hidden pouch of his satchel retrieving his lightsaber; igniting the dark blue blade and plunging it into the wall, carving out a circle large enough for a person to walk through.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me..." the Major stated as Martius cut his way through the wall. Could this smuggler really be a Jedi? Surely he must've just found or stolen the lightsaber from somewhere; that Skywalker fellow was the only Jedi still around, and yet, somehow for some reason she couldn't help shake the feeling that...

"Done" Martius stated as he kicked in the cutout section of wall, deactivating his lightsaber and returning it to his satchel. "And remember: not a word."

"Fine" the Major stated while signalling her troops through "But you and I are going to have a little chat when all this is over."

Martius reluctantly nodded in agreement, then followed the Major and the rest of the Pathfinders through into the base. Fortunately, the silent entrance combined with the distractions made it fairly easy for the highly trained SpecOps group to infiltrate the secondary base and enter the command center to shut down the Jammers and anti-aircraft batteries. Once inside however, there was no sneaking past the building's defenders; they'd have to fight the rest of the way to the command console. Fortunately they were expertly trained to do precisely that, and the Major and first squad in quickly eliminated the surprised stormtroopers in the first room while Martius attempted to program the door to seal behind them. When he decided the programming was going a little too slow however, Martius used an old smuggler trick and stood back then blasted the console, closing the door instantly. He really needed to remember to write whoever programmed Imperial doors to do that a thank you note; that had saved his hide on more than a few occasions.

Once inside, the group rapidly pressed forward, not wanting to lose momentum, and killed the building's defenders at a lightning pace. It wasn't long before they reached the control room, and after securing the room the Major quickly began to hack the console. Martius however noticed something of an oddity; there was no Imperial officer amongst the dead in the room, where one should certainly have been assigned here. As he scanned the room for the missing officer, he noticed a floor panel slightly out of alignment and soon saw a blaster pistol slowly emerge from the shadow pointed directly at the Major.

Reacting without even thinking, Martius quickly drew his own blaster in the direction of the hidden assailant then fired, keeping his sights on the young officer as he slouched forward from the blaster wound. Gida and the other Pathfinders in the room quickly turned towards the deceased officer, and two Pathfinders pulled the body out of its hiding spot while checking to see if any additional Imperials were hidden beneath them. Seeing where the officer's weapon was pointed, Gida looked to Martius and said simply: "Nice shot" before returning to her work. The Pathfinders took up defensive positions and began planting traps as the Major finished her work and announced: "Finished. Scanners and AA are now down."

Activating her comm device she then stated: "This is Pathfinder 1 to Home One, mission is complete; requesting immediate air support." Contacting the soldier she left to guard their shuttle, she then stated: "Corporal, get that shuttle in the air and ready for immediate extraction in case things go sideways."

Leaning against the wall and peering out a small window, Martius noted: "Looks like the AT-STs and troops still here have just about finished off the critters that were helping us out, so if they don't know we're here already they'll figure it out real soon. Also seeing...wait, what the..."

As Martius stared towards the sky with a puzzled look, Gida looked towards him and stated: "Not much of a sitrep Captain Kellar. Care to try that again?"

"Uh, were we expecting low altitude capital ship support?"

"What?" the Major asked while approaching the window. "Well I be damned..." she stated while seeing the outline of a Providence-class vessel begin firing at the main Imperial base in the distance. "Never thought I'd see the day where I was happy to see a Separatist ship."

"Tell me about it..." Martius quietly replied.

"Hmm, looks like Volte's ship" the Major continued before activating her comm again and stating: "This is Pathfinder 1 to Freedom's Call, we've got a whole lot of Imps near our position and more at an outpost nearby. We put in a call for air support from Home One, but we could use additional support so long as you're in the neighborhood..."

One of her troops interrupted: "Major, we've got Imps trying to get through the door!"

She replied: "Understood, keep clear of the doors, keep in a defensive position, and keep your heads down! Captain, you keep that lightsaber of yours handy in case we need to make a new exit!"

Martius nodded, but kept his pistol drawn in the meantime, and when the Imps finally breached the door and the Major gave the order to "Open fire!" he quickly complied...

by **Tayner** » Thu Jul 04, 2019 10:09 pm

Tillisk'Tor'Vih
4 ABY

The squadron was at a small rebel airfield on a small rock in the outer rim. Home to a few squadrons of X-Wings, it served mainly as a refueling and logistical base. To small for a name, and due to its temporary nature not many bothered with such, all they needed was the coordinates. Tempest squadron had been here for some time, enjoying a brief respite from the war despite being stuck in the middle of nowhere. However, the squadron would be called up, and Torr would receive new orders. The dozen pilots huddled around a holo-tank, Torr standing by the controls, and his Executive Officer beside him, one Captian Wald Nalatracer.

"New orders came through from Fleet Command." He began, before pulling up the image of Kashyyyk from the holographic projector. "Kashyyyk, home of the Wookiees. Liberation efforts are underway already, and the fleet has secured a beachhead with some tier one assets already ground side." He continued, first showing the image of the Alliance fleet in orbit and then the image of the area which was shown to be the area of operations on the ground. "Fleet Command has retasked us to support operations in this campaign for the foreseeable future, and have given us tactical discretion. However we're expected to cooperate with the Third Fleet, and will receive operational tasking at their discretion." He spoke.

"You lot know the drill, stick to your wingman and don't get separated. It appears that we'll hold air superiority but imperial doctrine is to saturate and obliterate, don't be surprised if new friends arrive. Be ready, and rely on the pilot covering you. We'll likely be providing danger close air support, so blasters tight and eyes sharp. We sortie in 15." He finished. Captain Nalatracer gave a curt 'go' to motivate the pilots to get moving. Torr was confident, the squad needed to get back in action and liberating Kashyyyk would do wonders for the rebellion.

"Your take on the deal?" Wald asked Torr after the pilots exited the tent which they'd borrowed as a briefing room.

"Gial himself is there, with the entirety of the Third Fleet. We just need to do our part to keep the momentum going, and in the end, we win." Torr said, dropping his formal demeanor in the presence of his long-time friend.

"Aye. I've been itching to get off this rock." Wald said with a chuckle and the two pilots left to join their squadron.

Tillisk'Tor'Vih
Kashyyyk
4 BBY

Twelve X-Wing fighters dropped out of hyperspace, transmitted their identities to the Third Fleet, and upon conformation of orders they were cleared for decent. Shortly they passed through the planet's atmosphere and they came in low under old separatist ships as they approached the outpost which had been pointed out as contested to them. "Alright Tempest, heads in the game. Tempest-Two, I want you to take second flight and screen our six, the rest of you with me. The boots on the ground need our support." He ordered, and the squadron split into two.

"Capital ships in atmo, bold." Tempest-4 remarked.

"Aye, droid scows at that. Damned things are as old as I am." Tempest-7 chimed in.

"Lock it up, Home One chopped us an Air Support Request. On me!" Torr said over squadron comms before changing frequencies over to the fleet. "Tempest moving in for Close Air Support on the objective. Capital ships, watch your fire. Over." He spoke before switching through frequencies.

"Pathfinder-1, this is Tempest-1, inbound with close air support. We can hit the walkers easily enough, but we can't tell the good from the bad guys infantry-wise. I don't want any blue-on-blue, so you're going to have to designate smaller targets. Over."

As he finished speaking, the six X-Wings of the first flight swooped in low in a loose formation as they targeted the AT-STs. Simply enough the armor was dealt with in short order, and there was little resistance besides ground fire, negligible to the X-Wing's shields. With another run any strangling armor was dispatched and Tempest was ready for more. "Imperial armor destroyed, pull back and wait for Pathfinder to point out some targets." Torr ordered.

"Aye" Nearly all of the pilots responded in unison.

by **Draos** » Fri Jul 05, 2019 9:03 am

Mondder Etti IV Corporate Sector Authority 3 months after endor.
In front of the Corporate Sector Authority's Capital building ExO Carser Buckgra Stood in plain but formal business attire as he stood nervously waiting for the que to begin his speech. He sighed heavily what he was about to say could doom the authority but it could also offer them lucrative business contracts if all went well. Cameras Flashed and whirred as he opened his mouth "Gentlebeings of the Galactic Empire and the Alliance to Restore the Republic it is the decision of the Direx board of the Corporate Sector Authority to hereby formally and without any conditions declare full neutrality in this so called Galactic Civil war ." He paused for a short breath and then continued "We also offer our full and ultimate disapproval of any who attempt to violate the Authority's neutrality and/or engage in combat in it's sovereign territory. We are well aware of previous battles between the Empire and Alliance in Authority space as a result the Corporate Sector Defense Picket Fleet has full authority to end all hostiles of foreign powers within our borders by any means necessary up to and including lethal force. I thank you for your time and wish you a pleasant day." he gave a smile to the holocamera as it turned off he then wiped sweat from his brow for now it was time to wait and see how the Empire would respond to the Authority's new policy.

He then headed to his Private Minstrel Class Space Yacht Murkhana Blues as he headed to his private residence in the Kalla Asteroid belt while most Authority executives had abandoned theirs after the fad that inspired their creation died out he still used his as a means of relaxation and get away the corporate backstabbing and politics that came with running the CSA.

by **Whalestron** » Fri Jul 05, 2019 11:28 am

"-and Delta will move in here. Everyone understand?"

Elena stood at the back of the ship's briefing room with the rest of the privates. She had a nervous excitement inside of her, fear and anticipation working themselves up. This would be her first ever assignment, and such a large one made it all the more thrilling. After the few questions had been answered, the squads all began streaming out of the medium sized room.

The girl followed after her squad leader, moving through the armory to grab their weapons and check their equipment for the assignment. Elena made her way through the organized area, grabbing the same equipment as the other infantry troops. She made sure her weapon was loaded and switched onto its safety setting before she met up with the rest of her group.

"You think the Imps are expecting us?" Asked a stout man Elena had come to know as Higley. He was a private, same as her.

"Don't be stupid," commented Airo, another young man with unruly black hair that came out under the uniform's hat. "They'e too busy dealing with the Wookies to even consider rebels."

Elena piped up while she adjusted her slightly baggy jacket, letting her rifle swing by its strap like a pendelum of her neck. "Aren't you guys forgetting about reinforcements?" She asked them with a smile. "They said that the troopers planetside aren't going to be enough to fight against us for long. It's the ones that show up to help that'll be really dangerous."

Their squad leader was the only one amongst the four of them who'd actually had any combat experience with the rebellion. He chuckled to himself at their predictions, shaking his head as he remembered a time when he himself had been so new to the whole army thing.

Another seargeant nudged him, whispering into his ear. Allowitz addressed his squad. "Stay by our LAAT. I'll be back." With that, he walked off.

The trio of privates watched as he went, all curious as to what information he was being given that they wouldn't be able to know. That's when Elena got the bright idea to follow him. "I'll be right back," she promised her fellow squadmates.

The seargeants had rounded a corner that left the hangar, a small mouse droid being the only thing there besides the two. Elena pressed herself against the wall, listening intently.

"-they're unleashing everything they've got down there. No new information yet, but it all seems so wrong..." said the one.

Allowitz considered this. "And this is the one who was a CIS captain, right?" He asked.

"No clue what they're even thinking, letting droids fight for us. And we're supposed to clear the ground, too. How the hell are we supposed to do that when they're going ahead and destroying everything?" The other seargeant said incredulously. "I hope they don't get us all killed."

Elena had heard enough. Quickly and quietly, she moved through the hangar and over to her squad's landing craft. The others asked what she heard, but she refused to tell the truth."Boring stuff. Talking about the weather and all that." She said. She tried her best to reassume her previous attitude, but when their seargeant came back, she couldn't help but wonder if they were being sent into a slaughterhouse.

by **Ormata** » Fri Jul 05, 2019 6:45 pm

Adm Gharro Volte
Freedom’s Call, 405th Battle Squadron
Kashyyyk, Kashyyyk System, Mytaranor Sector

"This is Pathfinder 1 to Freedom's Call, we've got a whole lot of Imps near our position and more at an outpost nearby. We put in a call for air support from Home One, but we could use additional support so long as you're in the neighborhood..."

Tactical answered the call, Corellian accent visible for most to listen. The man spoke fast over comms, fast and quick with clipped words and odd stops between each syllable as though he’d spent a lot of time having to make himself quite extremely clear. That’s what happens with an extended time with Neimodians, one would guess. The man’s posture, as he stood there with the phone in hand, was one of tenseness. He had to coordinate the strikes, after all.

“This is Freedom’s Call, copy all. Coordinates...received and confirmed. Stand by for ranging shots.” Taking the phone from his head, he spoke in most rapid tones to the B-1 next to him, certain that it would actually understand everything he said. “Fire one, Battery Kind, coordinates two-two-tac-one-two-tac-three-seven-tac-nine North, five-five-tac-three-seven-tac-nine-oh-tac-oh West. Fire one, Battery Kind, coordinates two-two-tac-one-two-tac-three-four-tac-nine North, five-five-tac-three-seven-tac-nine-three-tac-oh West. Confirm.”

“Confirm all. Standing by.”

“Fire shots.”

Putting the phone back up to his ear, Tactical nodding to himself as he spoke. “Pathfinder One this is Freedom’s Call, over.”

“Roger, over.”

“Two shots out, stand by for splash, t-minus one mike, out.”

One minute until the first shots. It felt like an age, though two more fire control orders were placed, confirmed, coordinates out and confirmed, and the shots placed. It was a fast turnaround, a good turnaround that kept the warship’s guns firing. While the vast majority had been dedicated towards the bombardment of the main enemy camp, the red slugs keeping on pouring down onto their fortifications and shells speeding away, some of the batteries were still dedicated to the more specific, refined, precise taskings. Someone would always need fire support and the Freedom’s Call had a purpose to fulfil.

They ran on down there, down to the two targets Pathfinder One had called-out for, the groupings of Imperial troops and their armored units and the outpost to their Northwest. Of course, the fighters from Tempest were also out of nowhere, but frankly enough X-Wing pilots were like that sometimes. They’d just dove right on down, heedless of the dogfight, heedless of the flak, and heedless of the fact that they’d gone supersonic in their dive. Lock S-Foils in the attack position indeed, thought the Flight Officer as he watched the holomap of the battlefield, they’d just dove right on down there.

"Tempest moving in for Close Air Support on the objective. Capital ships, watch your fire. Over."

“Tempest this is Freedom’s Call, copy all. Maneuvering Squadron 101 and 102 to cover your wings, Out.”

A few taps on his own console and two of the Tri-Fighter squadrons, each twelve ships, danced on his strings. The ships disengaged from what could better be called a slaughter than a dogfighter and trustered onto the X-Wing formations, standing off from them at around a hundred meters and a bit aft. The two squadrons looked to a degree sloppy compared to the more close-knit Rebels, their duettes and triples leading light gray vapor trails, though each of them was keeping an eye on the world unfolding about them. Sensors tracked targeting information from the TIE/ln’s, their vectors and likely positions to attack, their maneuvers and probable intentions, keeping an eye out for Tempest as they did their job.

The turbolaser blasts could have considered to have come out of nowhere to those more interested in the life-and-death struggle on the ground, the troops there all in that concern. The fireballs lit-up the area, everything in stark black and white contrast with shadow and light cutting through the treeline, obliterating the troop formations that had been marked-off at around 120 meters from friendly positions. Danger Close, that was the mark, that was the request and that was what had been done.

Tactical watched the hits from the camera of a nearby Vulture, nodding to himself with certainty that they had in fact made white plastoid embed itself into metal and that yes, yes the Imperial troops had been turned into a meat popsicle. It would’ve been impressive had the troops not been cut-into by the X-Wings, but then again that’s what happens to people who care more on spectacle than effect. The outpost, however, continued to stay intact to a good enough degree to warrant some more fire.

“Pathfinder One, this is Freedom’s Call. Good effect on shots, good effect on shots. Stand by for five rounds. Take cover, take cover, stand by for splash in one mike, over.”

Five turbolasers let themselves be known, firing-off a volley at the outpost in question, and Tactical went back to the other requested targets.

by **Britanania** » Fri Jul 05, 2019 10:21 pm

Imperial Military Base "Echo": Kashyyyk

Raids by the Wookiees, especially so close to the Shadowlands, was not an unusual feature of Kashyyyk duty. Indeed, it was an expected reality of the situation occupying the planet, but over the course of nearly two decades the Imperials, despite the frequent uprisings, maintained a firm grip on Kashyyyk, and recently they had been successful in subjugating and even pacifying the Wookiees.

Still, when scouts reported a Wookiee raid the garrison responded in its usual manner. Command authorised a detachment of two squads of AT-STs, plus a squad of Imperial sharpshooters, to defend the position, gather intelligence, and determine if a larger force should be sent. Standard procedure. What followed next was not standard, anything but, in fact.

Two small explosions rocked the base and in the confusion, the commander of the garrison realised that their local jammers and SAM batteries were knocked out. A malfunction? Possibly, but given the presence of a Wookiee raiding party, the more likely explanation was that the Rebels landed a team. The commander put the entire base on alert and began sending teams out to stabilise the situation. The Wookiees were already either dead or driven back, so the base turned its attention towards finding the Rebel contingent and defending against any further attacks, whilst first responders tried to control the fires from the explosions.

After that, the situation grew even more hectic for the Imperials. The sudden appearance of a massive Rebel battlecruiser and its subsequent attack on a nearby hangar threw the base in complete disarray.

Main Imperial Base, Kashyyyk

Grand Moff Hindane Darcc read the reports coming in with the cold and disinterested mind of a career soldier. It was clear to him that the Rebels would soon land, and there was nothing he could do about that. He could, however, defend as long as possible until Coruscant sent reinforcements.

"Send an official request," he ordered, "before we lose contact completely. We'll begin organising a defence immediately. At the very least, that damned battleships has told us this is it. The Rebels are invading, and I can be damned sure they are starting by Echo Base."

Rebel Third Fleet: Home One

The Headquarters of Admiral Gial Ackbar was always buzzing with activity, but with the invasion of Kashyyyk only moments away the military leader of the Alliance to Restore the Republic's bridge was even busier than normal. The first confirmation that Pathfinder 1's mission was a success led to a holler of joy from the group, but that was quickly turned to confusion as Freedom's Call, without any orders, fired on the Imperial base with Rebel forces still in the proximity. There was little that Ackbar could do at present, however, as the landing forces were his primary concern. He seated his commanders around the large holographic display of Kashyyyk and gestured towards the area Pathfinder 1 opened up.

"Our initial landings will occur here," he told them. "Start with Volte's units to soften up their defences. I want three companies there immediately, secure that base, and start sending more men in. Pathfinder 1 will again make contact with the local resistance, and begin launching attacks on any Imperial bases within a thousand kilometres. "

The Guardian Corsucant, Three Weeks earlier

"Sir, we have confirmation from Admiral Zsinj. I'm being told Grand Admiral Thrawn is expected. He's telling us to let him through."

Drommel squeezed his baton as he watched the 7th fleet. For several more minutes, the two fleets watched each other until Drommel finally turned back towards his communication officer.

"All right," he spat. "Let them through."

The Admonitor

"Sir, they are letting us through."

Thrawn only gave the slightest movement of his head as he returned to the large, throne-like chair. The 7th Fleet watched as Drommel opened up the path towards Coruscant, and the fleet resumed its planned course. Once the fleet entered its designated area, a small shuttle jettisoned off, carrying Thrawn. some of his staff, and some Noghri--as well as a young woman.

The shuttle landed on a platform adjoining the Imperial Palace, still functioning as the heart of not only Coruscant but of a billion other worlds as well. A group of Royal Guards waited for them as Thrawn mused that the last time he was here, it was just before the Endor Campaign.

I can only wonder how different things might have turned out if I were there, he thought as he exited the shuttle with his Noghri and other attendants in tow. The leader of the Guards approached the Chiss Grand Admiral in his stark white uniform. Although his expression was hidden behind his red mask, Thrawn could only imagine his surprise at seeing Thrawn alive and well.

"Your Eminence, welcome back to Coruscant. When we heard a shuttle was coming, we didn't expect to you." Thrawn held up a hand.

"It's all right, my coming here is strictly non-official." Thrawn paused for a moment. "Formally I'm due to return in a few days time."

The guard nodded and gestured for Thrawn to enter the Palace.

by **Brusia** » Sat Jul 06, 2019 2:48 pm

Martius Kellar and Major Gida Amersu
Kashyyyk
Imperial Military Base "Echo"

The Pathfinders continued holding the line against the stormtroopers attempting to recapture the Echo Base command center, when their air support arrived in the form of Tempest Squadron and made short work of the nearby AT-STs. Once they were down however, the Major received a message from the Squadron leader stating:

Tayner wrote:"Pathfinder-1, this is Tempest-1, inbound with close air support. We can hit the walkers easily enough, but we can't tell the good from the bad guys infantry-wise. I don't want any blue-on-blue, so you're going to have to designate smaller targets. Over."

To which the Major replied: "Acknowledged Tempest-1" before delivering a shot from her blaster rifle directly into a stormtrooper's helmet and informing her people "Pathfinders, get your comm trackers activated!" Martius and the Pathfinders quickly complied, toggling their comm devices to enable friendlies to track them, at which point the Major again contacted Tempest Squadron and stating: "Tempest-1, this is Pathfinder-1, we've got our trackers activated, so your targeting computers should be able to ID us. We're the only friendlies currently in the AO, so if it isn't blinking, shoot it. Keep those Imps off our backs and first round of drinks is on me."

Freedom's Call meanwhile had also responded to their request for assistance, firing two blasts from their turbolasers, soon followed by another five, at the nearby outpost where the Wookiees had earlier lured a portion of Echo base's defenders. The Wookiees themselves had long ago retreated back into the forest just as those defenders arrived, as per Major Amersu's recommendation, and while the heavy wooded area protected them well against the AT-STs, the sharpshooters were able to kill several of the resistance fighters during the retreat. When those sharpshooters were reduced to a pile of ash along with the other outpost defenders, the Wookiees let out a great cheer.

The Pathfinders were far too focused on their defense of the command center to celebrate, but were nonetheless relieved to know that their enemy's reinforcements were decimated, and it was clear that the rapidity and surprise of the multiple attacks had thrown the remaining Echo Base defenders into total disarray. Responding to the Tactical Officer on the Freedom's Call, Gida stated: "Pathfinder-1 to Freedom's Call, confirm good effect on shots. Appreciate the assistance." As the Imperial attacks died down in the chaos, Gida and Martius knew it wouldn't be long now before Home One landed a relief force to drive the remaining Imperial defenders from the base and claim it as a beachhead from which they could finish liberating the planet...

by **White Bluff** » Sat Jul 06, 2019 3:50 pm

The Admonitor--Three weeks ago

Traya sat in her quarters as they awaited approval to go to Coruscant, a million things going though her head. She hoped the planet was back in order, she trusted Thrawn's judgment on the matter, she would have to remember his loyalty after her coronation. Suddenly the door opened and a stormtrooper stepped in, "Ma'am, we have been given access to the planet, if you will report to the shuttle, the Grand Admiral will be awaiting you."

She nodded, "thank you, I will be there shortly," with that he bowed slightly and stepped out, and she took a deep breath then stood and began her journey to the shuttle. When she got there she sat by Thrawn, and took another deep breath. Maybe I can think of my my speech to the Galaxy on my coronation day, that might get my mind off the Rebellion and the events in the Unknown Regions She began to formulate the speech as the shuttle began its decent to the planet's surface.

As the shuttle landed, she stood, however she was the last off. Not making her presence immediately known, remembering Thrawn's request, wondering when it would be time to reveal herself. She looked sound, looking at the city, it looked peaceful enough despite the way she saw it last, she had a hope it would stay that way. She looked to the Palace, her home, she hated it, she much more preferred the architecture of her home world, Naboo. Nonetheless she followed Thrawn and his group.

by **Britanania** » Sat Jul 06, 2019 10:32 pm

Imperial Palace, Coruscant--Three Weeks From Present

The guards led Thrawn and his entourage through the massive structure of the Imperial Palace. Perhaps the most audacious symbol of Palpatine's power, save of course for the Death Star, Coruscant's tallest structure seemed a haunted place now that the Emperor no longer lived there. Instead, its vast corridors were filled with a flurry of officers and bureaucrats, not the courtiers of olden days.

Thrawn has little time to reminisce about the past as he strolled through the halls and chambers. He was here on much more important business. The guards finally led Thrawn to the antechamber that poured into the ad hoc seat of the Empire's power. There Thrawn left a few of his Noghri with Traya to wait until his meeting was concluded. The Grand Admiral then walked confidently into the room. The new Imperial Ruling Council all stood to greet Thrawn when the red-eyed Chiss entered.

"My colleagues," he told the group, "I have returned to serve the Empire, after many years campaigning abroad." Thrawn took his seat at the head of the table as the Ruling Council worked.

After a few hours of discussion and committee, Thrawn rose to speak.

"I have come here today with another gift. I bring with you the heir to the Imperial Throne."

by **White Bluff** » Sun Jul 07, 2019 12:59 am

Imperial Palace, Coruscant--Three Weeks From Present

As Traya followed the group she continued to think on what to say to the council when they saw her, what do I say? I need to win them and the entire Galaxy over to me. When the group stopped at the antechamber she stood there with the Noghri guards left with her, she turned to the door to her father's office, she looked around the room before walking over to the door and stepped inside before crossing the room and siting at the desk, "I guess this will be mine soon enough."

She began to shift through the plans, scrapped, approved and other wise; such as Operation Stardust, and the TIE Defender project. The TIE Defender project? This was Thrawn's personal project. Her curiosity was filled by the orders and operations as the council talked it's politics, she spent hours reading over them. Just then one of the guards walks in and looks at her, "He is ready for you, Your Highness."

She stands and nods, "Thank you," she walks to the door and steps inside and looks around the council. "Thank you Grand Admiral Thrawn." She takes a deep breath before speaking, "I am Imperial Princess Traya Palpatine, daughter of the late Emperor Sheev Palpatine, legitimate heir to his throne, and I intend to have it. I will begin a new Era of Galactic history. Together we shall crush the Rebels, once and for all. Like weeds we will rip them out, root and stem. And destroy the last of the Jedi."

by **Whalestron** » Sun Jul 07, 2019 11:21 am

Kashyyyk, Present Day

The hangar was abuzz with activity once the order was given to start the ground invasion. Elena did a final check of her equipment before she and her squad boarded the LAAT. The various transports started to take off, all headed for the surface below. The trip was rather quiet, everyone anticipating the battle that was awaiting them.

Elena looked around at her the two squads that were squeezed inside of the ship. Their faces were solemn, a couple filled with a mild excitement. She didn't know what she felt about the battle. Maybe fear.

The sound of blaster fire started up as the LAAT doors slid open, giving the soldiers a view of the carnage that was just about a hundred feet below them. Turrets were tearing across the field, rebel soldiers scrambling for cover and returning potshots of fire in retaliation. That's when they were hit, a direct series of shots from one of the ground turrets managing to hit one of their wings.

An alarm was screaming out loudly as they began to spiral out of control. Elena and the others grabbed on to the bars above their heads to keep themselves from falling all around.

"Brace yourselves!" Called the pilot over the comm system.

Elena couldn't help but close her eyes as she feared the worst. The sound of metal hitting earth was the last thing she heard before her vision went dark.

The girl felt groggy when she finally came to about five minutes later. Everything sounded slow around her, but she managed to crawl over to one of her comrades who lay still on the ground. She turned her squadmate over onto his back and made a small, fearful noise as she scrambled away from the dead private. Elena managed to pry her eyes away from him, instead peeking around the corner of the fallen LAAT. She could see rebel soldiers hunkered down, some firing shots off at stormtroopers who'd come out to meet their attack.

Elena noted the smoking of the LAAT and realized she'd have to move soon or risk dying. She took another look around, but found no sign of the rest of her squad.

After taking a deep breath and mentally readying herself, Elena grabbed her rifle and started running diagonally from her position towards a crater. Several blaster bolts from troopers and the turrets sprayed around, finding their marks in the ground near Elena. She kept running, terror slowly filling her until she dove into the crater in the ground, a couple of rebel soldiers helping her to a safer position. The blaster fire stopped as the troopers realized they'd missed their target, instead focusing on another.

"You hurt? We have a medic with us if you are." Said a woman to Elena.

"I- I- don't think so." Elena stammered out.

Unbeknownst to her, she had a gash across her left cheek and various other scratches. Adrenaline helped to make these almost non-existant to Elena.

"We're going to push up to that group of rocks. Think you're up to it?" The woman asked her.

Elena nodded, though she definitely didn't feel ready.

The woman gave a nod to the other soldiers, giving four of them grabbing their weapons and getting up close to the crater. Elena followed suit. "On three," the woman said.

"One." Things started to come into focus for Elena as she blinked hard, taking deep breaths.

"Two." The noises of blaster fire and shouts became prominent.

"Three!" The group all ran from the crater, running for the cluster of rocks. One man was hit and let out a shout, Elena hesitating. She looked back to find he'd been hit in the chest. He was gone. The woman grabbed Elena, yanking her along so she wouldn't fall to the same fate. Not yet, at least.

by **Ormata** » Sun Jul 07, 2019 7:52 pm

Fay Gedyc
Cyar’ika, Alliance Intelligence
Kashyyyk, Kashyyyk System, Mytaranor Sector

Things were going to plan. She just didn’t exactly have a chance to appreciate those things.

Up above, the battle raged well in the Alliance’s sway. The Freedom’s Call had made her descent, stationing twenty kilometers above the ground and standing ready to deliver against any hardened targets. That sort of thing was greatly appreciated, lovingly appreciated, especially considering how annoying a bunker could get in having to get rid of it. The ship hard already begun targeting positions, firing with her turbolasers and flak batteries against various little points on the ground while also opening fire with salvos against their main station. She moved through the tree lines with speed, more than enough speed, aided by jump servos and the terrain itself. Fay had a point to move to, a very specific point to move to, and one she didn’t need to be late at.

The Rebel SpecForce that had landed had already performed a demolition on one bunker, aided by the Wookies from the Shadowlands, while Fay had decided to take on a different task entirely. A comms taskforce installation had been due for a reworking, an upper level command station that tied a bunch of communications together, one that was also exceptionally well hidden. The Wookies had been killed on sight when they ventured even a few dozen kilometers from the area, so they had no true knowledge on it. Little Bird, though? Little Bird had seen what they had there. He saw all the webwork that came from that one, specific little point on the map. It was hard to not see the point.

“Distance?”

“Two kilometers. Run slower or you’ll come across a sentry.”

Little Bird had a little bit of an odd sound to him, the sort of thing that seemed like a little chorus with a dozen processing units going on at the same time. That might as well be expected, though, considering how he’d been made. She had had to gut a unit out from a protocol droid in order to get them all to talk together and, as a result of it, he sounded like a chorus. Was probably right though. Probably.

She kept on moving at that same pace, nearly sprinting through the world before moving it down a few notches, jogging instead with rifle gripped in her right hand, spear in the other. The DC-17m could in theory be used with one hand but, in all honesty, she would rather drop the spear for a second to steady her aim and save her arm than not. It’d save time. It’d save ammo. Moving through the area, Fay paused, noticing the fact that another station was nearby...and it was under attack. Turbolaser shots rained down in a volley against the place, turning her frown into a grimace. That Providence was working it’s magic, sure, but it just might get her killed if she didn’t watch herself.

“You’ve arrived at your destination.”

Ass. At least one of those R2 units had gone and flown it, gone and developed his own personality. Screwed with the overall matrix. In any case, she looked-out for a second and watched the carnage through the treeline.

It looked like the Imperials had overall been mopped-up. Crouching, Fay could see that the outpost nearby had been completely slagged, no more fire from it, and a few AT-STs downed nearby. The whole area had been thwacked completely, though the lady could spot a few Rebel operatives nearby. They’d shot down this close, down from the Providence boat? Ballsy. Very, very ballsy. She could almost approve. Air support was screaming overhead, that characteristic whirr of X-Wings mixing with the TIE screams. All in all, though, the SpecForce guys looked like they’d done a pretty good job. Setting the spear down, she clutched at the DC before popping the blaster section off. Stowing that away, another attachment came out, locking onto the lower receiver slide and twisting. Fay wanted range. Fay got it.

Peering through the sniper scope, she found a few targets among the mud and grime. Most of the Imperials were trying to scatter, run off and hide or take up position as a pocket of resistance. They were scattered efforts, though, by...no, she actually could see an NCO or two. A lot of the time you really couldn’t tell a Sergeant from a Private, but these guys? Their movement gave them away. They lacked a lot of the stillness or roboticism that the new guys had. Clicking up the magnification, Fay could make out a few.

She paused though, before taking her shot. Probably should let the SpecForce guys know before they tried to reduce her to slag.

“Pathfinder One, Pathfinder One, this is Star. Currently at your one-oh-five. Three targets to your two-oh-three true, two-oh-eight true, oh-nine-two true, ditches. I have a shot. I’m taking the shot. Over.”

With that, she saw the first guy through the “Hello, you’re dead” magnification scale and took that shot with little more to do. There wasn’t any sort of breathing exercise you can do at such short range, in all frankness, and there wasn’t any point. If she shot him in the chest, he was going to die. If she shot him in the head, he was going to die. The DC-17M had a way of negotiating with armor. The shot, a long line of blue marking her position, raced out and touched him in the chest, just on the right, and the guy fell in a thud. The two accompanying him, probably newer, peered out and started to fire on her from their makeshift foxhole.

Another shot...and another, through the thin layer of dirt on the top, and they were silenced. Out of habit, Fay nearly reloaded. Nearly. She stopped herself with the notice that the other two targets were both silent and singular guys, one of which had a...yeah, a commpack. What a bastard. He was probably trying for a radio to their main. Lifting the rifle up, another shot...and he slumped, the pack showering sparks in the dead dirt about him. Training herself to 092, the last guy...hell he was an officer, black uniform marked with dirt, face marked with dirt underneath the wide-brim open helmet. The face was a heck of a place to aim, and she did just that...he looked calm. He looked collected. Mud stuck against the edges of his eyebrows and dried against his cheeks, his eyes darting from one place to another as though thinking and thinking and thinking...

Right up until he didn’t. Another shot and the face wasn’t really there anymore.

Reloading the rifle, she got-up from her position, picking the spear by the offhand and beginning to move up to their location slowly, crouched low against the ground.

The landing had been a...well, not one of those things that had gone especially well. LAAT corpses were scattered about, Rebel soldiers laying against the ground where they’d tried to push positions and Imperials had disagreed. Craters let the scrap lie low against the ground, metal wings jutting up from the earth at odd like angles, and with every gust of wind the lighter sheets would take flight, dragging themselves against the loose soil. The landing hadn’t gone especially well and it showed. Fay paused herself, forced herself to pause as she looked inside one downed ship. It looked like someone had taken a grinder to the people, white bone sticking into one bulkhead and ruined torsos still in their seats. Fabric harnesses hadn’t saved them and the pilots were embedded a good ten feet into the ground.

Gods, she was glad she had a helmet on, couldn’t smell it at all, just see the things. Leaning back out, Fay moved on, on to crouch behind cover just in case an Imperial sniper had survived the carnage.

Up above, though? Up above she could hear the drones coming closer and closer.

by **Britanania** » Mon Jul 08, 2019 6:14 pm

Imperial Palace, Coruscant--Three Weeks From Present

After Traya's impromptu announcement to the Ruling Council Thrawn looked at the group with his cold red eyes. What were they thinking? It was impossible for the Chiss to know with any real certainty, but he could sense a growing tension in the group as he assumed each wondered what Thrawn's intentions were.

The Grand Admiral held up a hand as if to halt the mounting tension.

"Her Highness' rendezvous with me was a pure accident and a happy one. The people have come to expect an emperor, and while we can help Traya rule, she can help up maintain legitimacy with the many Imperial sympathisers who might believe this entire exercise has been a power grab on our part."

And of course, Thrawn thought, deflect any criticism or backlash.

After his pause, Thrawn continued.

"We will continue working on formalising this new regime," he concluded.

"Hello and welcome. I'm Ashii Nermani and this is your tonight's news with Imperial HoloVision. For tonight's story of the day, the Imperial Ruling Council announced that Her Royal Highness, Traya Palpatine, the 26-year-old relative and adoptive daughter of our beloved Emperor, returned to Coruscant today. Her Highness has spent much of her life out of public life. The Ruling Council announced that her coronation will take place in five days and that a new Constitution will be promulgated during the Empress' coronation. Grand Admiral Baron Soontir Fel, the Deputy-Chairman of the Imperial Ruling Council and a decorated war hero and TIE pilot had this to say:

"The death of Emperor Sheev Palpatine sent shockwaves throughout the Empire. With the loss of a stable and strong unifier, there were concerns among the Ruling Council that we could continue as before. Taking those fears to heart, a new Constitution has been written. Most importantly, we happily announce the restoration of the Imperial Senate, suspended 4 years ago because of the Rebel Crisis. Elections will be held shortly for that."

by **Revlona** » Mon Jul 08, 2019 9:35 pm

Colonel Nathan Harbinger
Echo Base
Kashyyyk

“Clear, the room is clear Colonel!” Sergeant Dewy said as he stuck his head out of the room. His bright red hair unfurling into a shock of curls as he unclipped his helmet and tucked it into his armpit. The dull red gash on his cheek had stopped bleeding already and his normally bright eyes where cloudy with sadness.

“Good, I’ll set up shop here, inform the company commanders they are to meet me here in half an hour, we need to go over casualties and other details.” Harbinger said as he unclipped his own helmet and stretched, his muscles tight and sore as the adrenaline from the battle began to slow down.

“Yes sir,” Sergeant Dewy said before exchanging a quick salute with harbinger and motioning the command squads communications specialist over to him. As he did this, harbinger entered the former mess hall and watched as his men set up his headquarters, the actual HQ of the garrison being a messy place after the fighting in it after all. Content with what he saw, he settled himself in the corner of the room and did what any good soldier would do in that moment, shut his eyes and caught a quick moment of sleep.

—30 minutes later—

“Alright ladies and gentleman, hit me, bad news first, what are or casualties?” Harbinger asked, dreading the answer soon to come from the 6 company commanders assembled in front of him, not including the Commando Major and a who he assumed was her second in command beside her.

“Thirty four from my Company sir, 12 dead,” A short and scarred man said on the left, A majors insignia on his collar.

“Fifty six from mine, sixty two, eighteen, thirty one, twenty one from F company..” The other commanders intoned soberly, their expressions hardened with anger and grief.

“So..two hundred and twenty in total, a quarter of those dead, good god we can’t go on like this, there are twenty more garrisons like this one, and a massive compound to top it off, at this rate the casualties will be in the thousands..” Harbinger muttered to himself before looking up at the others and saying. “Well, have the still fit men form a defensive perimeter around the garrison, switch the guards off in shifts, thankfully the imperial Rec room wasn’t damaged so they will still have that to use. Transport the wounded in shuttles to the ships and prepare to move out once replacements have arrived.” He said as the nodded and snapped off quick salutes to him before leaving.

by **Lunas Legion** » Tue Jul 09, 2019 1:16 pm

Imperial Center
Six Weeks Ago

Grand Admiral Afsheen Makati did not consider himself a coward or a timid man. A coward or a timid man did not become a Special Tactics Trooper, did not serve in the Imperial Marines and most certainly did not become an Imperial Grand Admiral.

But politics... Politics made him nervous. It made his stomach tie itself in knots, trying to figure out who was lying, who to trust, who was manipulating him and it made his head hurt simply trying to comprehend it. He was a solder, Emperor damn it, and he was a damn good one. Not a politician.

But as he waited in the Grand Reception Hall of the Imperial Palace, he could not help but grow nervous. It was an... Odd time, to be quite honest. Zsinj's plan seemed solid, at least on paper, but he could not help but notice that he was the one with his boots on the ground and his neck closest to the chopping block while his allies were off pacifying their rebellious former comrade at Corellia.

But he was the only one that the Imperial Elite would trust, the 'honest soldier' without the mental capacity for plotting and scheming. No, they'd never expect him.
The hall was empty but for himself and the six men in blue-painted stormtrooper armour. His men, in armour that marked them as being his personal service, plus another two in black armour with red trim. Mercenaries, he said, when they were Zsinj's own Raptor commandos. Nine men in total. Enough for the plan, both the 'real' plan and the real plan.

"Grand Admiral." The voice echoed down the hall as the red-clad figure of Ysanne Isard, Director of Imperial Intelligence and the woman he nominally owed his loyalties, joined his men in the middle of the hall, just in front of a set of elevators that led up to where the Grand Vizer, Sate Pestage, was supposedly in his offices.

Supposedly, since Makati had warned him of Isard's coup in a supposed last minute change of heart, but he'd fled the palace via secret tunnels unobserved and was likely retreating to his family's holdings even as they waited.

"Director." Makati said, but he did not salute or nod. She was not his superior in rank, he owed her no such shows of chain of command as his eyes turned towards the four green-skinned aliens. Big, vicious aliens, Noghri Death Commandos. Makati knew full well of their reputation, but Zsinj had assured him that they would not be an issue once Isard was disposed of.

"Are you-" She began to say, asking him if he was ready to remove Pestage when he heard the sound of a blaster discharge and he rolled to one side, drawing his sidearm as he looked for the shooters.

A pair of red-armoured figures, near the ceiling. They'd been cloaked most likely, and his own soldiers and the Death Commandos returned fire, one of Zsinj's Raptors dropping to the ground before the two men fell to the ground with loud splatting and crunching sounds.

"Tig-" Isard began to say as his sidearm, previously aimed up at the ceiling, drifted towards her head, and he pulled the trigger.

Isard's head vanished in a crimson cloud.

Quick, brief, decisive. Just like a boarding action at its finest.

"Isard was killed in a firefight against troops of Grand Admiral Tigellinus during an attempted coup against the Grand Vizer." Makati explained, waving his pistol at the pair of dead red-armoured figures. His troops had switched their blaster rifles to the Death Commandos, but they lowered their guns. Zsinj had been right about the commandos true loyalties. "Unfortunately we were unable to apprehend the Grand Admiral as he fled the planet, as did the Grand Vizer."

Everyone present nodded. Their story had been pre-planned, and there was no one to say otherwise bar Grand Admiral Tigellinus. Even the Grand Vizer would back their story up, as Makati had warned him of a coup and advised him to flee as he couldn't prevent it; he hadn't specified by whom.

Now, well, he just had to sell the story to everyone else. Admiral Drommel, in orbit, General Carvin, the commander of Coruscant's garrison, the Imperial Ruling Council's other members. A hard sell, yes. One he could pull off? Also a yes.

After all, no one would expect him to lie. Grunger and Zsinj would be arriving in a day or three to stabilise the situation. If things did go badly, then he had reinforcements inbound.

Imperial Palace, Coruscant
Three Weeks Ago

"The people have come to expect, peace, order and prosperity from the Empire too, Grand Admiral." Zsinj's voice was low, but calm, hiding any surprise. "With the Empress' permission, I would return my position as Grand Vizer to someone more..." Zsinj paused, considering his words carefully. "Suitable. I have both an Oversector and a Sector Fleet to govern and lead respectively. I know my fellow Grand Admirals that set this in motion have been somewhat uneasy on Coruscant, neither are politicians, and both have their own responsibilities to attend to that matters here have distracted us from."

Zsinj stood, vacating the chair at the head of the table that the Grand Vizer customarily at in and gesturing for Thrawn to sit. It was as much of a symbol of the transfer of power as courtesy

by **Brusia** » Tue Jul 09, 2019 10:55 pm

Martius Kellar and Major Gida Amersu
Kashyyyk
Echo Base

The Alliance's main force arrived much sooner than expected at Echo Base, and as it did the fight for the command center died down considerably. Their timing did cause Martius and the Major to give each other a puzzled look however, as each wondered why they would try to land forces before Tempest or other air units had a chance to deal with the turrets and other exterior defenses. The Major supposed an order must've come from someone in the brass to keep the base defenses intact, but it was hard to believe a few turrets could be worth the lives of the soldiers they were bound to slay, and from the sounds of landing craft crashing in the distance, slay they did. Whatever the reason, the two knew they needed to remain focused on the task at hand, and continued concentrating their efforts on repelling the remaining Imperials.

It seemed a particularly intrepid Imperial officer had the idea of scaling the outer wall with a couple of troopers and coming into the command center from behind the Pathfinders however, but a radio call would reveal his plan was doomed to failure:

Ormata wrote:“Pathfinder One, Pathfinder One, this is Star. Currently at your one-oh-five. Three targets to your two-oh-three true, two-oh-eight true, oh-nine-two true, ditches. I have a shot. I’m taking the shot. Over.”

"Acknowledged Star" the Major would reply "Thanks for the support; I'd appreciate it if you could keep an eye on our grunts too, sounds like the Imps are really giving them hell out there..."

Fortunately that hell would progressively die down however, as Alliance forces soon dispatched the remaining Imperial defenders. Once Pathfinder was informed that the base had been secured, Gida ordered a few of her men to escort their wounded to the shuttles and remained by the control console until someone from Rebel intelligence could arrive to check it for any potentially valuable intel. Once that was done, she, Martius, and the rest of the Pathfinders happily left the battle-torn room, stepping over dozens of slain stormtroopers as they did so.

When the order came through to meet at the mess hall for debriefing, Gida ordered the rest of the Pathfinders to get some rest while they could and made her way to the mess hall, inviting Martius to attend with her. She still couldn't say for sure whether he was a Jedi or not, but either way figured he seemed to have a fairly strong head on his shoulders and didn't see any harm in bringing him along. Martius agreed and accompanied the Twi'lek officer to the mess hall, where he couldn't help but shake his head as the company commanders gave their casualty reports. He certainly agreed with the Colonel's assessment of the situation; the Alliance didn't yet have the men or resources to try and liberate worlds through large scale frontal assaults, not that such a strategy was generally advisable anyway. Once the debrief had concluded, Gida saluted the Colonel then immediately left the room to carry out his orders...

by **White Bluff** » Fri Jul 12, 2019 7:36 am

Imperial Palace, Coruscant, Three Weeks Ago

Traya was not surprised by the slight confusion in the Council but knew they would support her nonetheless. Her eyes watched each member's face trying to read their emotions. She could feel their uneasiness. But that's when Thrawn and Zsinj began to speak, Thrawn explaining the reasons behind his recent custody of herself, and Zsinj's resignation and giving his title to Thrawn. Thrawn would be a perfect Vizer. She quickly noded to Zsinj, "yes, you do have my permission to step down and give your seat to Grand Admiral Thrawn. And I would also like to say to the council, I will not be as my father, i will not be a tyrannt, i look forword to working with you all to make the Galaxy a more peaceful place, but I assume there will be a great more for you all speak about, so I will go and begin my reading of our new consitution."

She walks from the room and walks back to what was her Father's office, but she guessed it was hers now. She sat in the chair and began her reading, it didn't take long for her to disapprove of it, What? Why restart the Senate? It has proved itself to be unstable and ineffective, though it could be easily manipulated, my father proved that. She didn't like the idea of the Senate coming back, but she also knew it would help bring the Rebels to heel.

After reading the soon to be new consitution Traya's mind again wondered to the many projects and programs that sat on the desk in front of her, many of them scrapped the moment her father died, others from before. One of the ones that caught her eye was Project Harvester, were her father's Inquisition would train children in the dark side of the force. Interesting.

by **Britanania** » Fri Jul 12, 2019 2:59 pm

Imperial Palace, Coruscant, Three Weeks Ago

Thrawn gave a slight bow in Zsinj's direction as his fellow Grand Admial vacated his temporary position as Grand Vizier. One the Chiss seated himself, and with the Princess' departure, Thrawn looked at each of the members of the Ruling Council.

"Thank you, Grand Admiral Zsinj, for your stewardship. I will make this perfectly clear that I consider my role as Grand Vizier a temporary one." Thrawn paused and looked around the room. "My one goal has been a simple one, and that is to ensure stable and strong Galactic government. As such, I make it my purpose to see the comple and utter destruction of the Rebellion."

by **Ormata** » Fri Jul 12, 2019 6:17 pm

Fay Gedyc
Cyar’ika, Alliance Intelligence
Kashyyyk, Kashyyyk System, Mytaranor Sector

"Acknowledged Star. Thanks for the support; I'd appreciate it if you could keep an eye on our grunts too, sounds like the Imps are really giving them hell out there..."

“Confirm.”

She picked through the remaining ships, finding some of the survivors still alive here and there. More often they would be very, very dead, the hulls having been torn apart by shrapnel and many simple ejecting out and away, high enough that survival was impossible. It wasn’t a happy job, by no means was it a happy job, but it was a job and people needed to get to the shuttles. Her mouth wry under the helmet, she went into the main compound. There was information, had to be information there. Of course there were destruction protocols for important documents, cyphers, things like that but...too many people died for it to have been lost. Too many.

Finding it, all Fay had to do was slot a little drive into one of the computer ports. Little Bird was a far more talented hacker, after all, and the computers would be bugged and maybe fragmented to prevent unauthorized readings. He’d know how to put it all together and likely faster than she could. Nodding to herself as thoughts came and went, Fay just sat down, down against the ruined wall and hearing it scrape-up against her armor.

She was tired.

She closed her eyes to sleep.

Gen Jienne Skip
5 RESECARM
Kashyyyk, Kashyyyk System, Mytaranor Sector

The units were ready. They’d been ready for a while.

The hangarbay still bustled but this time, this time it was different. Massive wings cast their shadows against the hangar floors, their brown hulls like great big beasts of burden. They’d been loaded up before, had been loaded for a good long while, and those instead stretched their legs blessedly seldom. The C-9979 Landing Craft was a weapon, plain and simple, and Freedom’s Call’s compliment of the transports were ready for launch. The operation was simple in design and intent though by all means would that not be the case.

The first phase had already been screwed up all to hell; the SAMs and basic fortifications hadn’t been taken-out before Admiral Ackbar had sent his own troops in and, as a result of it, they’d gotten slaughtered. Skip, though? He was far more conservative with his own forces. He had to be for most reasons. His droids were not infinite and the ground never would favor them...at least not in this area and at the very least those droids that could work with swamp, mug, and forest he never had enough of. The ‘Crab Droids’ were fierce enough as an ambush weapon, the Dwarf Spider able to lie in weight before deploying it’s weaponry, but those comprised of a smaller number than he would have liked. He needed better droids. He needed more droids.

And yet they would likely never come. Sighing, the man watched as the transports were brought-out from their slumber and onto the ready deck. Skip felt the cigar between his fingers, that heavy little weight as one hand rummaged about for a light. Tobacco and Bacta honestly went pretty good together and in any case, he liked the taste and he liked the smell. The end of it sizzled and sparked before warming down into the steady glow of a campfire, and he relished in it, in the heavy coat about his shoulders, in the warmth of the engine burns. It felt like home, in a way, though not a home any person might recognize off the bat. It didn’t remind him of Coruscant, with the vaunted buildings that drew up so high you couldn’t see the peaks through smoke and smog, with the streets smelling like trash and trashmen. It didn’t remind him of the ship, cold and comfortless, eyes staring like starved rats and hoping for another piece of cash to run your way. It didn’t remind him of that.

It reminded him of the others, of Gar’qi and Felucia, of the emerald coasts and vibrant trees. Goddamn it would be good to get back, good to feel the feet on the ground. Mechanically of course there was little difference between a ship and the earth, artificial gravity and stores taking care of a person’s basic needs to the point where you could probably survive completely on a warship. Spiritually, though? There was something magical about knowing that you were there, there on a rock spinning through space, there to smell the trees and feel dirt between the toes, to run free for kilometers on end in one direction and never have a bulkhead to stop you. There was something spiritual about that, always would be.

“Sir. Transports are ready and 3rd Corps is ready to depart on your orders.”

The Brigadier stood straight and tall, leaned just a little in on the basis of age though that didn’t quite stop his inherent military bearing. Brigadier General Louzern was one of the better commanders, a Duros who’s sense of combat was much like Skip’s. He preferred to attack, attack, and attack again, relying on superior numbers, speed of advance, and lack of a requirement to sleep drive the enemy to defeat and surrender. The flank was an area the man knew of, of course, but overall he lacked a strong need to become on the defensive. A reliance on air support as both an early warning and stalling method, if not to completely destroy any flanking force moving against them, would be necessary and it had been discussed at length in prior briefings. Skip preferred to call the man ‘Lou’.

“Well, let’s get moving then,” came the reply, teeth clenching the same cigar as he started to walk-off. Smoke trailed behind him, the Duros keeping up only by virtue of assuming that the man would want to be on the first transport out, would want to be present and as such had started to step first. They moved across the flight deck, service droids weaving between them.

“Ever been to Kashyyyk, Lou? Went there once, younger days.”

“No, can’t say that I have. Met Wookies before though. Not as pleasant or as fluffy as holo-drams like to make them out to be. I did know one, though, white as snow and fierce bastard at that.”

“Helluva thing. Helluva thing...trees as big as corvettes, that’s what I saw there, less of the Wookies and more of the trees. They were massive, tall as can be. Beautiful, just beautiful...” the General trailed off with the last word, transitioning into a long drag of his cigar with about as much grace as a rancor might transition into a song and dance number.

Of course, the Brigadier General could really only chuckle at the comment as they boarded he C-9979. They most definitely were beautiful, though were was the operative word. The ship had been firing for some time, maker knowing what might have become of the planet once the turbolasers went silent. The ramp closed up behind the pair, and the ship? She rumbled up to life, same as the rest of the twin-winged behemoths.

The Corps had embarked and the rather large flotilla began its descent down and down, down with the turbolaser fire and down to the surface. There wasn’t any sort of AAA, no, nor any sort of missiles, nor any sort of fighters. The Alliance held control over the air and soon enough they might just hold control of the ground. Momentum had to be kept, though, kept because the entirety of the campaign had to be based about it. The Imperial machine, in General Skip’s thinking, was a slow gargantuan which once fully roused would be nearly impossible to defeat but a campaign fast enough might just halt them in their tracks. If they were kept on the defensive and responsive, kept working to the Rebel’s tempo, maybe they had a chance. They just needed the speed.

The first transports landed down, down at Echo Base, and the doors opened. Of course, the General wasn’t the first to get outside, in his stead there being a few squads of Corellian Irregulars in their varied garb. Some of them had lighter armor, designed for the ease of movement. Some of them had plastoid stuff, white and grey with the curious likening to a Stormtrooper or GAR trooper. One? One bastard had on a suit of powered armor, Corellian designed and made, probably able to go zero-g and probably able to break atmosphere in it. Of course he had the bigger cannon, a Z-6 Rotary slung low. There was a pause.

“All clear!”

And then the General came out, out as the troops moved to the side and he followed suit. The first B-1s started to be deployed from their internal racks, crumpled forms turning tall, before marching out into formation as though nearly for parade. One could hear the whirr and whistle of Vulture droids ahead, some formations doing flyby patrols of the base to guard it, and General Skip could really only chuckle at the sight. It was damn fine, a damn fine job, and he took another drag as an impomptu celebration before marching off, Brigadier General and irregulars in tow, to the ruined compound.

by **Brusia** » Tue Jul 16, 2019 11:44 pm

Martius Kellar and Major Gida Amersu
Kashyyyk
Echo Base

After informing her Pathfinders of their orders from the Colonel, Gida let them continue to get some rest until the reinforcements arrived. Martius took advantage of the lull to get some rest himself, but there was something still nagging at Gida that kept her from getting to sleep. Grabbing a secure comm, she contacted a good friend of hers back on Ryloth; a fellow former Resistance fighter, and after talking a brief while asked her to send a copy of an old image she could vaguely remember of her friend's resistance cell posing with the Republic forces that aided them taken shortly after the planet was liberated in the Clone Wars. Her friend agreed, and when Gida received the image on her datapad, it confirmed the suspicion she'd had since she saw Martius use his lightsaber.

Waking Martius up, she asked to speak with him in private, and he followed her into a small side area near the rec room. Handing Martius her datapad, Gida stated: "You know, I've always been good with faces; never forget a face in fact, but yours, yours almost escaped me until I saw that lightsaber of yours. No offense, but the years haven't been particularly kind to you General Shan."

As he looked down at the image on the datapad, there was no denying it; it was a picture of some of the Clones of the 53rd Legion, including his former XO, alongside the Twi'lek Resistance cell they'd supported in the Battle of Ryloth. Between the two groups stood his much younger self, adorned in his Jedi robes and armor, smiling with his friends at their victory; so confident and hopeful, totally oblivious to the horrors his future held. "Where did you get this?" he asked the Twi'lek as he looked up from the datapad "I thought the Empire destroyed all these images."

"The public ones, yes, but some of my friends in the Resistance held on to a few of their old pictures. Anyway, don't change the subject."

"Fine" he replied "You're right, that's me, or was anyway, a long, long time ago. Before you ask though, I'm no Jedi anymore." Handing her back her datapad, he continued: "Are you going to tell Command?"

"I'm a woman of my word" she replied "But I think you should consider it, I know the Empire made things hard for the Jedi, but we could protect you now; you could go back to being a Jedi and help us in the fight. If you're half as skilled as the Jedi I fought with on Ryloth, we could certainly use you."

"Look" he replied "Much as I'd like to help, I'm afraid it's not that simple..." Martius was interrupted by the sound of the transports as they landed to deploy their reinforcements. "At any rate, sounds like it's about time for us to move out." The two looked out a nearby window to see the "troops" unloading from their transports.

"Great" Gida stated in a sarcastic tone "Battle droids. A Providence-class destroyer, a Jedi, and now a droid army; feels like the Clone Wars all over again."

The two made their way back to the rest of the Pathfinders, where Gida woke them up and prepared them to move out. As the group made their way out of Echo Base and towards the assembled droid army. Their commanding officer wasn't particularly hard to find, standing out quite abit from the other nearby officers, and Martius and Gida approached him.

"General" the Major stated "I'm Major Amersu of the 2nd Pathfinders Regiment, and this is Captain Kellar, one of our contractors who helped us contact the local Wookiee Resistance." Martius stood still for a moment as he recognized the man before him; as much from his mannerisms and the cigar he smoked as from his facial features. There was no doubt about it, this was General Jienne Skip, the same man he'd fought against on Geonosis and Felucia all those years ago; it seemed it really was like the Clone Wars all over again. He hoped his alias would hold up, though it seemed the Loth-cat was already out the bag as to his identity.

Still, as running into old foes went, one could certainly do alot worse than General Skip; he was easily one of the most strategically talented Separatist commanders he'd faced in the war, and he would certainly much rather work with him than the likes of Tambor or Loathsom. Not wanting to just stand around staring, Martius respectfully bowed his head towards his former opponent, as Gida continued: "There anything my Pathfinders can do to help capture the enemy base?"

by **Ormata** » Wed Jul 17, 2019 1:41 pm

Gen Jienne Skip
5 RESECARM
Kashyyyk, Kashyyyk System, Mytaranor Sector

"General" the Major stated "I'm Major Amersu of the 2nd Pathfinders Regiment, and this is Captain Kellar, one of our contractors who helped us contact the local Wookiee Resistance."

"There anything my Pathfinders can do to help capture the enemy base?"

“Major,” came the curt, abrupt response as the man sharply nodded his head, though of course the man had some attention to the supposed civilian as well. Smoke erupted from his mouth and nose as the Coruscanti exhaled his cigar, though that froglike face turned more and more into a little smile. No, no, it couldn’t-could it? It just might be him. Skip had taken some effort in knowing his potential adversaries, the Jedi records never having been exactly a well hidden or guarded secret, and finding knowledge on their various exploits across the Holonet had been routine activity for the man. Of course, even if he hadn’t, the man would have known the Captain.

Tinnel IV’s Butcher. The man was none other than that, someone Skip knew at least in part by his involvement. Palpatine had crowned him a hero. The Jedi Council, despite their tomfoolery at taking command of an army they didn’t know the origins of, had acted for once in the cause of justice. They didn’t hang him, though. They didn’t hang him at all.

“Captain,” came the response after the exhalation’s length, another curt nod. “Think I’ve seen you about before. Might have a chat later on.” The smile stayed small, the emphasis subtle and his posture not changing at all. Turning back to the Major, he considered her question.

“Obviously,” another curt response, as he continued to walk past the two and still continued to talk. Jawing about in front of the rank-and-file troops was not something Skip had any intention of doing, even if they were special forces, and some things were best left to talk about inside instead of out and away. The forest was nice, true, but it held many terrors. Whatever the Wookie might be, he is not infallible and not invincible. He might be tricked even there, there in his home. Despite his feelings on the matter of secrecy, the man talked well above the range normally considered by simple habit.

“Now! The situation is just as complicated as you realize. The Imperials yet gather their forces to take the air and here we are with bases all around us, kaffing Imperials on every hill and tree! We can’t take all of them, just can’t, can’t destroy them with turbolaser fire and can’t get close enough with CAS due to close proximity with goddamn native villages. Droids might hit friendlies and as you all realize we’re already on thin ice with the natives. We attack one at a time, they take our flanks, take our LZ, and we’re shit out of luck. We attack all at once, we’re too thinly spread, get stabbed by a counterattack, they take the LZ, same shit. I need your Pathfinders to be goddamn pathfinders! Laze and mark Triple-A and specific targets for the bombers and squadrons to take out. Imperial movements are to be reported and lazed all the same. Do your jobs, I’ll do mine. Questions!”

Star Wars: A Risen Rebellion [IC/Open]

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