Dordjooba the Hutt

For his part, following Beck's gesture, Dordjooba listed quietly to the front as the mighty Black Sun Golan platform crashed into Bespin's planetary shield. It was a chaotic site to behold. Massive chunks of durasteel debris ripped against the bubble and pushed the energy output until the entire bubble popped. It would be rather amusing if Dordjooba cared one way or the other. He dealt with money. The cacophony of browbeating and chest gesticulations, no matter how physical or metaphysical they were, did not capture his interest. His tastes extended past the mundane day-to-day and lent themselves to more articulated diplomatic affairs. Most people considered these affairs trivial and boring, while Dordjooba marveled in the nuanced complexity of conversation; the verbal weaving it took to spin things in whatever direction he willed. Still, the Imperial Remnant victory had a nice air to it. And 'not dying' in the vacuum of space was certainly better than the alternative. The smell of victory playing in the air was palpable as the release of anxiety lingered throughout the bridge. And, considering Dordjooba's perusal of Beck's previous assault on Bespin, a victory was sorely needed. The Hutt carefully slithered toward the Imperial Officer and returned his official salute. A small smile stretched his lips and he 'bowed' a little to show his respect. "Congratulations are in order Admiral. When all is said and done, and the time is more appropriate, would you like to join me for a toast to your victory?" Careful to show a modicum of respect, the Hutt maintained a good distance from the Officer. His girth and presence was enough to account for at least two beings worth of personal space, so he tried to accomodate when he could.

Here he was again: the deck of a ship, the fiery smell of rounds upon rounds of explosive material, or whatever it was that came out of those things, barreling through space and smashing into things. He wondered if this was going to be his new life as an Imperial Moff. He hadn’t the foggiest idea really. But, on the bright side, he didn’t have to command a ship this time. He had the luxury of watching Beck return to the scene of one of his greatest blunders and get revenge on the mercenaries of Cloud City. Dordjooba had spent a great deal of time between the gala and this assault consolidating his assets on Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa and filtering them through Imperial channels. But that work was long behind him now. His subordinates had their marching orders and he was here on the front lines. The Hutt, deciding not to slink into the shadows and avoid all interaction, stuck to the rear of the bridge and let Beck have the floor. It was an odd thing for a Hutt to be in the background. But that was where Dordjooba preferred to operate. Businessmen can get away with legal monetary gambles when all eyes aren’t trained on their every transaction.

<< Whoops Posted in the wrong spot! >>

Over the next few days, the Imperials swarmed in to clean up Kalimore’s mess. Slave pens were liberated, pit fighting rings were broken, illegal spice companies were destroyed and every rule-breaker was punished to every extent of the law. Dordjooba’s men were spared due to his Moff status. But, had his men been engaging in any questionable activities, they would likely have been confronted as well. Kaldesh stood, the pressure of leadership weighing heavily on his scaley mantle, and sent transmissions out to Kaldena and Vlahjik. He would need their help in the coming weeks. Then, with subtle flourishes, he set about Nal Hutta, rekindling legitimate businesses that were shut down due to the Imperial assault, liberating old slave holdouts from the underground slave liberation teams, and reconnecting with the operating facilities that hadn’t been used since Dordjooba left the known galaxy.

[Dordjooba] Dordjooba grunted to Ambrose before the trooper boarded a ship and evacuated the battlefield. It was a trivial matter to explain his affiliation and protest his part in all of this, but he didn't have time. Already, due to the holo-calls, he put out before the dropships landed, his people were working to freeze Kalimore's assets. It would take time because Dordjooba had been out of the Hutt Cartel's favor for some time, but Dordjooba still had sway. His business acumen and presence in this sector were still intimidating to every slug that thought they could build clout in this sector. And, with the Imperials at his back, supporting his charge, he would extricate the deadweight with little effort. One significant note, however, was the location of his agent Kaldesh. The Lizard was doing recon for the troops and Dordjooba's intel was scarce on that front. Still, he would send a small contingent of troops to map out the area and slowly but surely imperial influence would spread, enforcing the principles that Dordjooba tried to uphold years ago before he left. Hopefully, I'll do it right this time. ____________________ [Kaldesh] Big building, lots of danger. The black Trandoshan darted from shadow to shadow with nothing but glinting red eyes shining from the tarry black of Nal Hutta's dark corners. His eyes, the red of a laigrek's evil gaze, might be enough to draw attention from the turbolaser gunners. He didn't know. He didn't have time to hesitate. He shot out toward the facility with the speed of an Ewok with caf on the brain. He glided carefully near the perimeter wall of the facility and affixed the tracking device with a little less care than he hoped. He fumbled the device in his claws and then stumbled a little before resuming his charge away from the facility. His clumsy claws cost him a few seconds, but he honestly didn't know if those few seconds were enough to expose him. Sometimes fate plays with hidden sabaac cards up its sleeves.

[Dordjooba] The Hutt Lord and one thousand of the Remnant’s finest, touched down where the yellow smoke rose. It was a shaky landing, but not due to pilot error. On the way down, one of the landing craft took a clumsy shot from one of the Hutt fighters, but the pilot managed to maneuver his way to the surface with minimal turbulence. When the group got out, they hailed Ambrose and his team, falling into line and rank, awaiting new orders. Dordjooba, shaking the nerves from his tense aerial battle, looked at Trooper Veshok with his piercing blue eyes. His charcoal skin was roughened with wear and his mass was considerably smaller than some of the more well renowned Hutt Leaders. But, he was, unmistakably, a Hutt. “We are here to offer aid.” Dordjooba said, his eyes combing over Veshok and his men. “Whatever you need, we will do what we can to provide.” __________________________ [Kaldesh] The black Trandoshan sprinted off into the shadows. He held no intention of deceit or larceny. But, at the same time, he had very little idea where to put the homing beacon when he got to his destination. He was also not entirely sure what they meant by sabotage. He understood the word, but what did they mean? Did they want him to destroy pieces of things to make it harder to start over? Or did they want him to help stop their process altogether? The Trandoshan lept from alley to alley, embracing the shadows and taking care to limit the sounds of his scales and claws as he went. The facility in question wasn’t far, but it was guarded by large turbolaser cannons and skilled guards. The cannons, he assumed, were manned by expendables. The Hutts preferred to use expendables to avoid damaging the bulk of their yield. It was one of the reason Kaldesh preferred Dordjooba. As Hutts went, he wasn’t very Hutt-y. The Black Trandoshan rounded a corner down the main street of the capital and was just about to slink into another alleyway when he caught sight of the facility not far off. He idly wondered if they wouldn’t mind him tossing the device at the facility and running past. But he decided against his momentary cowardice and began plotting his next move.

[space] Dordjooba watched as the c90s stuttered and drifted. Their shields dissipated and a sigh of relief that Dordjooba didn’t realize he’d been holding, slowly eased from his large mouth. Admiral Liu was relieved as well. Although, if you looked at Liu, his body language was clipped and reserved. When the Commander was sure there was no remaining threat from the Dream and the Vontar, he ordered that the shields be brought back up and that all available guns be directed to assist the Andripov in disabling Kalimore’s Carrack. In the meantime, as Dordjooba shuffled off the tension from his skin, he mobilized, heading toward the docking bay. With the commander’s permission, Dordjooba made his way with one thousand of the two thousand boarding troops toward Nal Hutta’s surface. While, upon instruction, Lieutenant Gerard Caber stayed and went with the other one thousand troops to secure the c90’s and assist the slaves in gaining control over the two ships. The two maneuvers happened simultaneously and the Caridan Spider squadrons split apart and followed both groups to their locations, keeping them away from harm as best they could. __________________________ [Ground] “Sss-sounds simple enough,” Kaldesh said with a curt nod of his head. He wrung out his wrists as the troopers removed the cuffs and looked around. A little steam escaped his mouth, but his face remained neutral. The levels of tension around him seemed to press at him through the heavy gazes of the troopers. But there was little he could do. He was an agent of a criminal organization. If the situation was reversed, he would probably share similar sentiments. But that didn’t make his current predicament any easier. “Just point me in the right direction and I’ll get it done.” The tarry black Trandoshan said, not staring at any particular trooper or even the little girl that sat off to the side. He gripped the homing device in his claws and slid it between his fore-claw and his opposable claw. The troopers looked at the Trandoshan with hesitation, wondering if they were making a terrible mistake. But, after an awkward silence and mild deliberation, Kaldesh was sent on his way into the oppressive swampy planet, skirting the shadows and making use of the planet's natural odorous camouflage.

[space] Commander Liu’s face blanched slightly when looking out the main transparisteel viewport, he spotted the Valern Dream and the Battle of Vontar speeding directly for the Hand of Valor. The blanket of humidity that clasped the top of his brow intensified. But he was lost in a haze of commands. His brain was furiously trying to scramble something together. However, as his mind did the frantic waltz of death, his composure never faltered. He continued commanding his people and the machine chugged onward. Dordjooba, to his credit, also didn’t panic. Maybe it was because he’d stared down several capital ships in his lifetime and lived to croak about it. Or, maybe it was because he knew he might lose this ship and lose his life. There were contingencies in place, should he fail. But he did not want to fail. Dordjooba looked to the ramming vessels and stroked the large jowls that tumbled from his charcoal visage. Then, after a vital moment of speculation and worry, Dordjooba’s expression widened and his yawning mouth opened into a large grin. The Hutt wormed his way over to Ansfelt and whispered in his ear. “Are you…” Ansfelt began before changing his tune and smiling, despite himself. “Alright, I like that idea. After all, what have we to lose?” Commander Liu ordered the Ion cannons to split shifts. Two of them fired at the Dream while the other two opened on the Vontar. And, down the line, all weapons were ordered to split fire, targeting propulsion systems, shields, and engines. Their objective was to shut the c90’s down by whatever means necessary. “Don’t blow them up! Keep them dead in space! And, whatever you do, avoid firing at the pods.” In the meantime, Commander Ansfelt Liu ordered a small subsection of gunners to funnel power into the tractor beam systems and reverse their flow so that they repelled incoming ships instead of attracted them. He then tasked them with firing the beams at both c90s and holding them off long enough to feasibly disable the Hutt's vessels. It was a risk because although shields were holding at 50%, re-routing power from them would weaken their chances of repelling the Immortal Soul’s continued fire. However, using weak tractor beams wouldn’t do anything and would risk the entire crew anyway. It was all or nothing (aside from the power reserved for weapons systems). The shields dropped to 5% and the tractor systems came online, sending powerful repulsive waves at the two c90’s sprinting toward mutual destruction. Dordjooba’s fighters, relatively ignored, but losing one or two more defenders to the relentless onslaught of the Soul’s continued fire, were ordered to follow close behind the Dream and Vontar, targeting the c90’s vital systems. “Use any vulnerability you find. Disable their propulsion and stop their insane maneuver or we can’t get you home. Force willing, we’ll see you after this. Regardless of how this turns out, it was a pleasure.” [Disable/Non-Lethal Killshot on Valern Dream and the Battle of Vontar] _________________________________________________________________________ [Ground] “My name is Kaldesh Kajieron. I was sent by my employer to assist the Remnant. That is all you need to know.” Kaldesh said, his own raspy voice held at barely above a whisper and lingering on the ‘s’ and ‘th’ sounds. “It should be noted that I have abilities that most Trandoshans don’t. But, aside from that, my history or employment will give you no more edge in this fight than a dull Ryyk blade.” Kaldesh’s expression was neutral. He didn’t want to give up the name of his employer. He would if they pressed him. It wasn’t a secret. It just wasn’t going to help his case in any way. But, he could also tell that the information he revealed wasn’t the most helpful in terms of constructive or useful information. It was complicated, and he only hoped that not shooting them or clawing their faces off gave him some leg to stand on.

[space] Following the Fleet Commander’s request, the Valour pushed forward, ahead and to port. Commander Liu was keen in his orchestration of every piece of the bridge crew as Dordjooba had come to expect and respect. However, Dordjooba was still the one left holding lives in his hands, while the Moff sat and watched. Wyler’s eyes still niggled at the back of the Hutt’s slimy skin. He’d acknowledged his gaze before, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Commander Liu ordered the Valor’s ship systems to filter non-essential power into the shields to counter the rampant bombing and ordered that four of the eight medium point-defense cannons intercept bomb and torpedo fire. The shields were holding steady at half strength, but only because Liu fought tooth and nail for every scrap of it he could. The rest of point defense cannons fought the incoming fighters and maintained some track of the bombers based on the relative trajectory algorithms of their projectiles. The sixteen heavy slug-thrower cannons, slow and brutal, were put to the task of following the bomber’s trajectory algorithms to calculate – to limited degrees of success – the possible path of each bomber. Their next task consisted of following that predicted path and shooting the Kalimore bombers down to the best of their ability. It was an imperfect strategy, but in the thick of war, one could only hope to battle maybes with more maybes. Certainty was a luxury that most people couldn’t afford, especially in combat. The three Hand of Valor ion cannons continued their barrage on the Immortal Soul, with one of the cannons breaking off to pound away at the Valern Dream. Three of the four plasma missile turrets unloaded salvos on the Immortal as well, with one of them being spared for the Dream. That left the concussion missile turrets, which were left open for any task that wasn’t delegated. Fighters that got too close and didn’t get pulverized by the point defense cannons, would be targets for the concussion missile turrets. In Starfighter land, however, the story was a bit different. Rose squadron was the strongest of the four. Sergeant Regis Carr was holding up with nine defenders and holding strong. However, Hilla, the Squadron leader from Blood squadron was down to seven. The bombers were worse. Caleb from Ruby had seven and Adda Kare was slowly dwindling. They had four bombers left in Adda Kare’s group and she was calling infrequently for status updates. Dordjooba’s muscles clenched. He wasn’t used to an active fire situation. He’d had men and women under his care before, but this was different. Do or die. Or, in this case, do or let others die. Dordjooba sent orders to his defenders and bombers, requesting that they run across the aft edge of the Valern Dream, toward and around the thrusters at the aft end of the c90 vessel. while the Kalimore ships focused fire on the Andripov, he ordered Rose squadron to keep a weather eye on the other squadrons and help shield them and guard their flank by targeting the Hutt fighters that pursued them. Hilla and Caleb were given a similar request. Sergeant Adda was asked to conserve her bombers and attempt to commit to evasive flight patterns. They needed all the bombing power they could. In the meantime, as the fighters strafed, they took advantage of dips in the Valern’s shield strength and targeted the engines with strategic artillery and bombing runs, dipping in and out of the Valern’s effective weapon range. ___________ [Ground] They found me?! How?! These are either the best-trained stormtroopers ever, or the Hutts have been really lax on their employment policy. (Probably both, actually) Of course, he was vulnerable to thermal vision and visors that filtered out certain radiations, but most methods of sight would not be able to make him out. Unless of course, he was getting old and losing his edge. That might’ve been it. The stun bolts slammed heavily into the refuse bin he’d been sheltering himself behind and reduced it to molten slag. Kaldesh took a few shots to his shoulders and arm but bit them back as he ducked his head down and hid behind a large roadside fixture. “Hold! I’m here to rendezvous with the Imperial Remnant. I mean you no ill will.” Kaldesh tried to yell over the roar of renewed blaster fire. It was a bit cacophonous and he worried it would not reach their ears. But hope was all he had. He held his arms up, wincing at the movement of his injured arm. He didn’t reach for weapons, nor did he become aggressive. He simply sat behind a large obstacle with his hands raised. “Parley?”

[space] Dordjooba swallowed nervously as Commander Liu ordered the point defense canons to intercept the incoming torpedo barrage. Priority was put on the ions, but a few gunners successfully intercepted the protons as well before the ordinance slammed into the shields of the Valour. Due to the decrease in ion torpedoes, the shields were not hit as rough. But, regardless of the countermeasures, the Valour’s shields dropped to sixty-five percent. And the bulk of that was due to the tenacity of Liu and his professionally trained staff. The Hutt marveled at how well-oiled the machine was - even as the ship rocked with impact - and almost forgot his own role as a few of the squadrons were clipped. Sergeant Adda Kare sounded off, alerting the Hutt that the Rufous squadron was down two six bombers. Caleb Amek had also lost two bombers due to the unexpected skill and finesse of the Hutt-trained gunners. The Defenders has lost a few of their number as well, but they were busy pressing for any advantage they could in the fight. The Hutt could feel Wyler’s eyes probing him for action, but was unsure how to proceed. Liu continued to fire the Ion canons at the Valern Dream but broke off when ordered to focus fire on the Immortal Soul. Dordjooba, not wanting to let up on the Valern, took the fighters in a counter strafe run. He still held them to the shield and sword standard formation to protect the remaining bombers. But, instead of heading for the bulk of the ships, he had them – staying at range from the Dream and its canons – run along the starboard edge of the c90. He orchestrated a staggering maneuver where the bombers and defenders dipped into the corvette’s range and released a little of their ordinance before blazing their ignition and flying away. Like spiders, they swarmed in and sunk their teeth in, hoping to render their prey dead in space. While the defenders, following and surrounding them, clouded the bombers in a web of viable targets, providing them the cover they needed to strike. This was Dordjooba’s first command. The weight of it all hung on him as he moved. And, despite the level of investment he’d had in the Remnant before, there was something about being in a metal shell inches away from a miserable death in space, that either galvanized you to act or pushed you to be a puddle on the ground. And puddles don’t win wars. ____ [Ground] Kaldesh followed close behind the Imperial contingent, slinking from shadow to shadow and monitoring their movements. He stepped behind but kept more of an eye on their surroundings than them. He postulated moving away from them and looking for threats. He also postulated telling them that he was following them. However, would they believe that a seven-foot-tall black-scaled Trandoshan with glowing red eyes was there to help them? Probably not.

[[Dordjooba – Fleet Action]] A stern administrative official arrived aboard the bridge and strode the distance to stand beside Tanus, Dordjooba, and Wyler. He was human of moderate height with a short-clipped pate of black hair. His beady brown eyes didn’t waver from the large viewport ahead of him as he moved. The only gesture of acknowledgment he made was a curt nod as the leather of his hard boots clattered on the deck plating. Moff Wyler’s head and Tanus’ head similarly inclined as the man stepped between them. “Thank you for your arrival, Commander Liu. Now we can get underway.” Wyler suggested as he turned to face the newcomer. Liu’s face was stolid and fierce. It didn’t move to mirror Wyler’s. “Change of plans Moff. We are to focus on crippling the enemy ships, boarding them and freeing the slaves onboard. I received new orders on my way from the Remnant Capital. And, Fleet Commander Macleod has ordered an all ahead full. So, without further deliberation… bring power to the thrusters. I want to see the aft thrusters of the Andripov in the next few minutes or I will start ticking days off of shore leave. Move out!” With the Commander’s instruction, The Hand of Valor pulled to the port flank of the Andripov just as the Kalimore fleet lit with the opening volley. The Hand of Valour rocked roughly as turbolaser fire pounded at the shield. Tanus reacted swiftly, moving to signal the 11th wing. But, the rough concussive force of the blast as it rocked against the ship sent the poor Chiss sprawling to the deck plating. His body, surprised by the sudden shock, was sent into a series of erratic spasms. Medical professionals were hastily dispatched to remove the Starfighter Commander, leaving the remaining three Command Staff floundering for a replacement. Commander Liu ordered the ship to focus fire on the Varlen Dream with occasional fire to support the remaining fleet assets. Ion cannons were brought to bear against the shield of the cr90 Corvette to scramble the field. The plasma missile turrets were warmed, but held on standby until an opening in the shied emerged; their targets were primarily the engines and the shield generators. The gunners held their fingers at the ready waiting for a disruption to leave the ship vulnerable. “Hutt or Wyler! The 11th wing needs someone to assist them and I’m too busy trying to manage this. Get to it, NOW!” the human Commander’s voice rattled from two feet away. The announcement was made in between instructions given to the ship’s pilots and gunners. Dordjooba, not versed extensively in fighter tactics didn’t think it was wise to interject. But Moff Wyler wasn’t making any move to take initiative. So, swallowing his inefficacy, the Hutt tapped into the Starfighter comms and started to assist. First, by having the 11th wing join the fray. Only understanding the basic principle of what the different ships were for, Dordjooba used the defenders as cover for the bombers in a shield and sword pattern. Due to the shields on the Corvette and the massive firepower on its hull, there was no reason to engage the ship directly until its shields were down. In the meantime, Dordjooba had the Rose and Blood Tie-Defender Squadrons running fighter interference for the bombers, while the Ruby and Rufous Tie-Bomber squadrons prepped for a run against the Varlen Dream, closing the distance but maintaining a safe flight pattern at length from the Dream’s close-range cannons. If Fleet Commander Macleod needed any additional fire, Commander Liu left the Concussion Missile Turrets, Slugthrower Cannons, and the Point Defense Cannons open as needed, bringing more into the fight if necessary. ___ ___ ___ ___ The personnel transports originally split to send reinforcements to the surface, re-prioritized their loads to arrange efficient boarding parties. All two thousand troops would be sent to board, and any leftover would be sent to the surface as soon as the slaves on the Varlen Dream were secured. ___ ___ ___ ___ [[Kaldesh – Ground Forces]] Hmph… Sloppy. Kaldesh, leaning against the shadows of another warehouse, his red eyes the only thing remotely visible, eyed the broken warehouse that the Imperials had commandeered down the cluttered roadway. A large mishmash of aliens was ambling down the path with only a hint at coordination. Multiple ranking individuals stood among them, but the bulk of the force seemed to be a cornucopia of dirty miscreants. Kaldesh could smell them from two hundred feet away – even amidst the slop of Nal Hutta’s nastiest bogs. Their collars suggested slaves. But Kaldesh didn’t know. The Trandoshan had been walking around the capital, not keeping too much and hiding in plain sight. He heard of the Imperials through the grumbles and rumors of voices on the street and followed the conjecture to this spot. Only now did he see how the Imperial contingent was faring. Their methods seemed sloppy and hard to place. But, from where he stood, they looked professional. The value of his interference at this point was little. Instead, he simply watched as the events transpired, waiting for a convenient or easy moment to arrive and offer assistance.

[[ Assets Secured ]] With a single call, Dordjooba’s assets began to close down. From a few cities over, ranging to the outskirts of the Nal Hutta capitol, Dordjooba’s warehouses and factories went into emergency lockdown. Even Dordjooba’s palace, abandoned to time, was locked down tighter than a Siberian Prison. The mercenaries tasked with guarding his textile, pharmaceutical, and weapon factories remained in their positions tasked with guarding the personnel and premises against Kallimore’s influence. _________________ [[ Fleet Command ]] The Hand of Valour plowed into Hutt space with the presence of a mighty hammer. Fighters arrayed in tight formation and flew in a holding pattern at the edge of the Y’toub system. The Shockwave Class Assault frigate sat, assessing its forces one final time before taking the offensive. Dordjooba, Weyler, and Tanus sat looking at a holo-projection of Nal Hutta from the Command Deck. Names, faces, designations and framework simulations were being projected over the planet with varying degrees of accuracy. Because, if there was one notable quality about the Imperial Navy, it was the detail they put into everything, including careful and methodical planning. “Master Hutt,” Tanus began, pointing to various names and figures on the holo-projection, “I am supervising our fighter compliment, the 11th Wing. Or, as they like to be called, the ‘Crimson Caridan Combat Spiders.’ Rest assured, although they have been on standby for quite some time, they are still a perfectly capable fighting force. Even for a relative newcomer, such as yourself.” The Chiss’s eyes squinted slightly, but he nodded dutifully. The wing is composed of four squadrons, each of them with their own squadron leader.” A logo flashed across the holo-projection, indicating that it was the visual call sign for the 11th wing Starfighters. The old Chiss raised a gnarled finger to four pictures on the holo display before clearing his voice and continuing to speak. “First, let me introduce your Tie-Defender squadron leaders. Rose Squadron is led by Sergeant Regis Carr. He’s a middle-aged officer from Carida’s own blessed shores and he is a level-headed man with little marks on his record. Sergeant Hilla Vandross heads up the Blood Squadron, and although hard to manage at times, you’ll never find a more capable Tie pilot. Second,” the chiss’ gnarled finger moved to the second set of pictures and names, “here are your Tie-Bomber squad leaders. Sergeant Adda Kare of Rufous Squadron, a Chiss from the homeland, has a bright future ahead of her but is still a bit green around the edges. And, last but not least, there is Sergeant Caleb Amek. He was a top ranking pilot from the Old Empire and has seen a great deal of change come to the Galaxy. He recently returned from time spent on leave and is eager to prove himself. So, Dordjooba. Orders?” Tanus smiled with a vicious turn and his words oozed with derisive prejudice. “That won’t be needed Tanus. Dordjooba and I deliberated before we made our way to this blasted planet.” Wyler interjected, sensing the rising tension between the Chiss and Hutt. “He suggested that we send half of our troop complement to the surface to assist the forward squad there. Dordjooba said he had an agent on his way to Nal Hutta and that his agent understands he will be responsible for the troops we send. I am a little hesitant trusting our finest to an agent I’ve never met, but Dordjooba assures me that I will not regret my decision. Anyway…” Wyler made to continue, but Dordjooba cut him off. The Hutt’s face did not change. A serious expression hit him and did not go away. He looked to Ravir Tanus without returning his derision and then shook his big head as he tried to process the level of information he had to sift through. “So, the plan is that we engage any fleet forces above the planet and give cover to the troops as they make landfall. Wyler is offering to assist me with coordination regarding the Hand and I trust you will not let me down regarding our starfighter team. Correct?” Dordjooba’s serious expression broke for a moment as his big blue eyes probed the old Chiss. But Ravir Tanus’ face was an enigma. There were so many wrinkles that even an expression of sheer joy would look like derision. “I will do as I am told.” He bowed his head woodenly and proceeded to follow Dordjooba and Wyler from the Command Deck to the Bridge. The Hand of Valour continued stalling at the edge of the Y'toub system. The 11th starfighter wing flew a holding pattern nearby, eager for orders. Each squadron leader did a ready check and Tanus reported that all fighters were ready to engage when the call was given. Meanwhile, 1000 troops filled up transport vessels and readied themselves for a trip to the surface. Hutt/Imperial Forces - - - ____________________________ [[Kaldesh - Ground Forces ]] Riding a commercial shuttle from Nar Shaddaa to Nal Hutta was a little harder now with the Gems in charge of crime. But Kaldesh managed alright. He had the money, it was just a matter of who’s palm to grease and why. Which, although difficult to ascertain for some, was a little easier when you spoke the languages of crime and loot. With his feet on the ground, he realized two things. One, this was the first time he’d ever been on Nal Hutta. And two, he slowly began wondering to himself why the Hutts valued this planet so much. It smelled like the south end of a northbound Gamorrean and it looked just as bad. The smell was so bad it began to stick to the inside of his mouth. But, he was here for Dordjooba. He’d be expecting Imperial regulars soon - what was all that about anyway? There was a story, that was for sure. And he’d be in charge of supervising them, which was an even more surprising notion. Supervising Imperials? A Trandoshan? Kaldesh was a little confused by the subject. But orders were orders.

Keenava wasn’t sure of what to think or what to do anymore. When she sat there, transmitting the message to Dordjooba through the Edge’s comms, her thoughts abandoned her, running back to what she said to Dri and then what Rumo told her. Did she really want to be a Sith? Was there really no turning back? Had she exhausted all other forms of trying beyond the obvious? As the Twi’lek despaired, she surrendered her hold on Driclea and left the Dark Edge where it had been before they left. She fled the Praxeum and began to wander the wastes of Korriban, thinking to herself and re-examining her entire life. It would be a long slog, but perhaps she would find a deeper meaning in the obscure torrent of red sand that surrounded her. Or, more likely, she’d go insane and lose herself in the darkness of Korriban’s unforgiving environment. _____________________________ Kaldena and Vlahjik arrived in Dordjooba’s Yacht, Dornja Kajin, over Korriban. The Zeltron asked for clearance to land based on summons from the Dark Lord, before settling in and watching as the stars rolled by. She sighed to the quiet of the cockpit and let her jet black hair drape itself over the back of her seat. She fiddled with a button without actually pushing it and rubbed her other hand across her scalp. Vlahjik grunted and shuffled from the plush seats a few rooms down. Kaldena had no idea what he was whining about. It was a yacht. It was meant to be enjoyed. And, ironically enough, no one ever seemed to enjoy their time on it. Sometimes, Kaldena felt, people of this galaxy felt way too uptight. People needed to learn to live more so they could enjoy a dynamic range of different experiences. Vlahjik grunted again. Kaldena’s thoughts broke and she looked back at the Trandoshan, struggling to extricate himself from the railing because his large horns got caught. Kaldena stifled a laugh and rose to help him before he made things even worse…

Dordjooba sent a communication to his agent Kaldesh, summoning him to Nal Hutta for the White Helm assault. Then the Hutt alerted the Moff to his agent’s involvement and accompanied him to the Hand of Valour. Their ascent to and subsequent set up on the Hand of Valour was uneventful. There were many on the vessel that did not wish to be commanded or influenced by a Hutt, especially when they were on their way to dispatch a power-mad Hutt. But, Dordjooba didn’t back down. He made his way across the small platform to the bridge, bookended by Moff Wyler and another surly looking individual. An older shriveled chiss that looked like he was pulled straight from the earliest years of the Old Galactic War, walked up beside the Hutt and stared out the viewport at Carida. He licked his lips and furrowed his brow. “Greetings. I am Starfighter Commander Ravir Tanus. I will help coordinate your bomber and defender movements.” His words were short and officious. But the piercing light of his red eyes told Dordjooba everything he needed to know about the old alien. “Greetings Tanus. I believe you already know who I am.” Dordjooba said, countering the chiss’ feigned grace with a repartee of his own. “But, in case your superiors had not informed you; just in case anyone on this ship has not heard,” Dordjooba said, taking the conn, and transmitting his resonating baritone voice throughout the frigate. “My name is Dordjooba. I am a Hutt and I have been requested to take command of this vessel by Moff Wyler. We are on a mission to end slavery, such as it is, on my home planet, something I have been fighting for, for years. Kallimore is a fiend with no scruples or morals. And as much as I don’t attest to be free of blame or sin, he is the literal scum of which our race is attributed to. He must be stopped before he is allowed to spread his repugnant grasp across the whole of Hutt space. You may not like me. You don’t have to like me. It is not my job to gain the appeal of everyone on board. I only request that you do your duty as you would for any of these gentlemen before me. Now, we jump to Nal Hutta in fifteen minutes. And when we do, show them why you’re the best naval force the galaxy has to offer.” The Hutt smiled from wherever he would have an ear to the other side of his large head. His charcoal skin looked black in the low light of the bridge and with a small bow, he went to rejoin the other two gentlemen, followed by his small cleaning slime-Roomba. “Let the fighters know we will be jumping soon Tanus,” Wyler issued. The chiss nodded and bowed with a small crick issuing from the small of his back before walking to a panel on the starboard side of the bridge. “Good rallying call Dordjooba. I wish you luck in this engagement. Now, let’s hit them where it hurts.” Dordjooba nodded, thinking briefly to Arkanus, and then dismissing himself for a moment to communicate with his men on Nal Hutta. _______ Keenava narrowly dodged the Tie’s in pursuit of the Edge and when she felt that they were a reasonable distance out from their line of fire, Keenava hit the hyperdrive and shot off toward Korriban. She had some thinking to do. And it wasn’t fair to bring Dri along with her in that regard.

They never saw him. Kaniika retreated to her post deeper in the compound. And, the other mercenaries, fresh from their exploitative shenanigans, rounded the corridor and headed straight into the break room. The first, a shorter Duros, tripped over something draped across the doorway. The second, a cocky Weequay with a little experience as a Hutt mercenary, stepped over his friend and laughed at his prone form. But, as the laughter cleared his throat, the Weequay caught the blunt force of a meaty fist slamming into his face. Before his fellows could find the attacker, whoever it was, another of their number went down; this time, from a claw to the hamstring. The room’s light flickered before it clicked out. Two more remained. One of them was a heavy Houk and the other was a wiry Human. Two small red lights peered at them from the black; their location was difficult to make out in the thick darkness. The Houk could vaguely make out where the kitchen was, but the Human ambled around with no clue at all. The Houk’s name was Quaggan Volesh… He was the one that hurt Kaldesh’s friend. “Alright… Alright. I get it. No more. It’s really cute what you got here you overgrown lizard.” Quaggan said. Faint notes of anxiety gripping the lilt of his tone. The Human stumbled over to him, almost tripping over his own foot. “How do you know it's him?” Quaggan shook his head. “I don’t. But, if it is, I figure I’ll draw him into admitting it, then we got ‘em by the minerals. Ain’t no way the Gems’ll forgive him for this.” I know… I quit… The words were small and didn’t have direction. The Human shivered violently and was just about to run toward the light of the doorway before Quaggan decked him, sending his flailing body to the ground. Coward. “I see you, you flaming disgrace, and I’m going to beat you just like I did Kaniika.” He primed his fists with the practiced motion of one who enjoys bullying others. There was a reason he was called ‘Red Fist’ Volesh. wrong choice of words... The Burly Houk marched roughly toward the red lights at the corner of the room, confidence in his swagger. But, when his feet hit the tile floor, a gout of flame erupted from his right side and ignited his clothing, scalding his skin. The Houk let out a mighty roar just as a vicious uppercut slammed his jaw back and knocked him to the ground. It was a simple motion that rocked the whole room when the meaty thug hit the floor. A few moments later, the lights flickered on revealing a Trandoshan standing over the Houk’s prone form. He kneeled close to the bully’s face and rasped in his ear. “If you ever touch her again, I will kill you. I don’t care how safe you are. I don’t care how safe you think you are. I will find you. And I will kill you.” Then, when the lights flickered once more, the Trandoshan was gone. He filed his resignation with the Gems and ran into the night. ____ A few hours later, Kaldesh found himself outside an abandoned shack on a shady corner of town. Time or two ago, this bunker belonged to a good friend. It hadn’t been touched in over five years. Kaldesh flicked out the small comm device he found in his bag and responded, checking in with a boss he hadn’t seen in quite some time.