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Qessax Jal Todda

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  1. Sometime during the trip Qessax was able to acquire a new uniform. Back in pressed black and field plate, Qessax couldn’t help but feel a bit more in charge. There was something about the imperial uniform, tailored to his odd body type, that made him feel more in charge. He wasn’t naked without it, but he did feel like he was missing something when wearing something else. Contrary to many of his people, he liked a uniform, even if it meant his mask was at his side again. Now if only they could do something about the kriffing boots Qessax inwardly groaned as he adjusted his footgear again. No matter where he went or who he talked to, no one could make boots fit for a Kaleesh. “Yes sir” Qessax nodded to Vangar and quick set to do just that. Among those chosen were the clones. They had proven their worth in combat. Now was time to see if they could prove their worth in a more social setting. “Dress sharp men, You may be meeting the Emperor today, and I want to make a damn impression worth our souls. Make sure that armor shines” Qessax hand-picked the rest of the company to come along as careful as a guard preventing an assassination attempt. He only selected those he had first hand knowledge on, and even then, only those who showed promise of making a good impression. A few he considered chancing on despite his lesser knowledge on them, but when he realized that they could be meeting the Emperor, he decided against it. Normally such tasks would’ve bored him. He would’ve preferred the thrill of tracking and hunting down potential enemies of the State, not meeting officials and higher ups. But even this event made him nervous and thus, excited. Qessax raised an eyebrow when a familiar pungency hit his exposed nostrils. He turned and faced the group of Kaleesh warriors, the two female leaders in front. All were in modernized Kaleesh gear, with a traditional animal skin cape, gold-encased charms and Bone Masks that actually made them look a bit regal. “You were dismissed and told to return to Kalee” Qessax pointed out. He knew the best way to talk to a fellow Kalee was not to beat around any bushes. “Why are you still here?” The leader, who carried an electrostaff on her back, a modernized take on the ancestral shoni spear, and lig swords on her belt, spoke just as straightforward, if not a bit more stern. “Your father ordered us to make sure you are protected at all times.” Qessax started to glare and snarl, a clear sign of disapproval, but stopped short when he noticed a few details. One, all of the Kaleesh were much too well dressed for simple soldiers and raiders. Two, all of them had a similar scent, indicating they belonged to the same tribe. Three, and most importantly, all of the Kaleesh’s masks bore a very specific marking over the left side, and the two females had a deep red dash just above the right eye that went towards the back. “I see…” Qessax said as he tapped his own mask, an identical mark as the females on them. Qessax took another sniff. “Shoni tribe?” The other female chuckled. " You have been gone for too long. Qogoth, but good try” She earned a glare from her older sister, and silenced herself immediately. Qessax stayed silent, tapping his mask in thought. After some moments of rapid thinking, he eventually came to a decision. This was not the time he wanted to deal with this. He knew it was coming, but he figured he would head home first instead. “You will not speak unless spoken to. The moment I hear you disagree or go against my will, I am shipping you back to my father to become bedmates in waiting. What i say goes. As representatives of Kalee, you are expected to uphold both our traditions and the laws of the land. You are both now soldiers of the Alliance and Raiders of Kalee. Become a problem, and I will find and exexcute a swift solution.” Qessax stepped forward, nearly three breaths away from his two mates. “Is that understood Qogoths?” The two thumped their chests once in unison in agreement. Qessax turned and indicated for the group to follow. _____ Qessax gave the order and everyone marched to the ship. Once arrived and made to halt, Qessax presented everyone to Vangar with a sense and air of pride fitting for his race. The clones, the commandos, the attaches, everyone. When it came to the Kaleesh, he simply said “Commander, these bodyguards and representatives of Kalee were hand-picked by Khangan Han himself. I trust them with my life and my reputation. With them are Sgt. Wren Kar, a soldier I served alongside before I transferred to intelligence, as well as my secretary. All here have both proven their worth and usefulness” At this, a small human saluted, decorated in his finest gear, as well as Qessax’s personal astromech droid who beeped a salutatory greeting.
  2. All in all, Qessax felt decent about the entire mission. It had gone, for the most part, without too many issues. A few hiccups were to be expected, and the moments right before the ship was powered on and under their control was stressful, but that was not surprising. And in all honesty, that made Qessax a little nervous. Missions never went according to plan. Not completely. Whether it was his Kaleesh heritage speaking or his training as an Imperial agent or his knowledge of previous, disastrous, imperial events, Qessax felt like something was off. Qessax approached Vangar. With his disguise mostly taken off, he had retrieved his war mask from the ship and donned it over his face. He wasn’t in imperial uniform yet, so felt that there was no reason he couldn’t wear his culture again. Passing by the squad of clones, Qessax stopped and saluted them. “Excellent job captain. You and your…brothers” Qessax struggled a bit saying the last part. Clones were still odd to him and his people as a whole. Taken care of that, Qessax faced Vangar. “Sir, might I ask what is your next plan of action? As he talked, the several Kaleesh warriors who had assisted the mission were approaching the command room. Qessax, who had completely forgotten about the warriors, was not expecting them, and only noticed them when he detected their pungent odor. One of them, a female with a verpine sniper rifle on her back, looked the clones over and snickered before asking “You all smell the same. What, do you all share the same soul?” The others took note of what the female said and listened in, curious on how the clones would respond.
  3. Qessax wasn’t sure what surprised him more: the Force-User dispatching the Umbaran was such lethality, or the battle droids that came to life around him and greeted him like some kind of commander. “Welp, I guess it shouldn’t surprise me too much” Qessax muttered as he picked himself up. When the droids had activated, one had tripped the Kaleesh accidentally. That moment could have spelled doom for him, had not Kara Thren-Sarrati intervened and saved him. “Much thanks,” Qessax muttered. He briefly surveyed the damage. Thankfully blood cleaned easily off of durasteel. “Can’t help but be surprised at your efficiency. Not that you will find me complaining.” Qessax then surveyed the rest of the ship. Everywhere, droids were becoming active. A piece of the Kaleesh felt excitement at seeing so many battle droids come to life under his team’s control. He almost felt like his ancestor so long ago. He even half wondered if that long-dead Kaleesh was smiling at this. “No, probably not” Qessax muttered to himself before activating his comm unit. “Good work gentlemen. I will be at the control room soon. ” Qessax looked at the slaves nearby and the Knights defending them. He thought to himself a few moments. Releasing the slaves would be a process, but a welcomed one. They would obviously need to be questioned on what they knew about the Umbarans, who kidnapped them, where they came from, where they were moved throughout the galaxy, etc. If slavery was going to be an issue taken seriously, Qessax would need to get familiar with the slaver’s methods. Unfortunately for the Alliance, information on slavers had been put on the back-burner, and fighting slavery would be a long, costly battle. But for the Kaleesh, who’s own people had their own experience with slavery in the past, it was an issue that could not be ignored. “Get back to your knights, I will be needed at the control room. “ Qessax directed Kara before taking off.
  4. As the klaxon sirens blared, confusion began to reign. Umbaran mechanics who swore the ship was in perfect condition suddenly doubted themselves and their work. Soldiers who were confident that the ship would never be attacked gripped their rifles tighter than ever as they escorted the workers. And the slavers recoiled in pain as they became blinded by the Force-user’s work. They were not expecting this kind of enemy to board the vessel, let alone to become the sole target of said enemy. A few of the slavers lashed out wildly, but blinded as they were, their efforts proved less than fruitless. The slaves, the ones who still had both strength and fire in their hearts, took advantage of the situation and turned on their masters. The Kaleesh who were focused on the mechanic in the power armor fought furiously. The sirens only added to the confusion the poor soul inside the armor sufferred under gunfire and smoke bombs. Eventually the Kaleesh finally brought the thing down, wrapping durasteel wires at its feet and pulling like the snowspeeders of hoth. Once down, one Kaleesh woman stepped forward, grenade in hand. One of the larger openings provided the perfect spot for the explosive. Qessax smiled as the explosion destroyed the armor. “Excellent work Vangar. Enemies are moving towards escape pods.” Qessax commented. “You too Lord-Comman…oh kriff, Commander, look out!” Qessax spotted in the distance the mechanic in the power suit bulldozing towards where the slaves were. Having heard the comms of the one mechanic suffering under the Kaleesh attack, this one had begun to make his way over and in the process, spotted the slavers being attacked. Even with the klaxon sirens blaring, this mechanic charged at the groups of slaves attacking their masters. These slaves would not escape alive if he had anything to say about it. Qessax leapt from his post and broke into a sprint towards the Lord-Commander and the slaves, pistol out. “Everyone, get moving to the command center! Vangar, captain, see if you can activate some of the droids so that we can actually fly this hunk of junk out of here. I don’t want to be a sitting Mynock when Umbara sends reinforcements to investigate what's happening. Double-time everyone!” Qessax was now between the charging mechanic and the slaves. With 300 meters between him and the slaves, Qessax knew he needed to give Rapheal some time to move the slaves to a safer location. Pistol in hand, Qessax opened fire. The lasers from the small arm bounced harmlessly off of the power armor, but it accomplished what the once field-agent had hoped for: it created a distraction. “Let the chase begin…” Qessax muttered to himself. He began to weave between deactivated battle droids as the Umbaran mechanic began to open fire. So often he had been the hunter. He did not appreciate the change of pace of being the hunted. Inside the command center, the Mechanic helped out as much as he could. Given how much focus he had given the command center, he proved to be useful, as the command consoles came to life once more. However, when it came to activating the droids, he confessed he did not know anything about that. His focus had been on getting the ship running, not activating the small army that could kill him.
  5. The captain spit out a splat of blood at the barabel’s words before flipping the being. A pointless effort, but Tyre would not afford himself anything less. He sneered at the barabel and said “You’ll never get away with this.” The mechanic however, was not so easily brave. He wasn’t like Tyre, doing this for a promotion into the highest of society. It was a job, and honestly, Tyre was kind of a bantha’s rear end and the pay just wasn’t worth it. If he could play his cards right, he could get off Umbara and start a new life somewhere else. Despite his ruptured and bleeding ears, the mechanic could understand enough of what was said. “He…here” The mechanic stammered while holding up a comm device from his belt. “Code White Static 3756. That's a general evacuation of all personnel.” Tyre glared at the technician and vowed that the head mechanic would be skinned alive when all of this was over. A genuine threat if he would survive this. Still, with him bleeding all over the floor, that possibility was looking less and less likely. ______ The mechanic in the power armor came face to face with the ship. Even over the the other Kaleesh’s comms, Qessax could hear the Umbaran inside the Power armor begin to radio the other’s about the strange ship. “Now” Qessax ordered. The Kaleesh soldiers went to work. They knew fighting such a thing head-on would be suicide, so they had spread themselves out in preparation. The closest Kaleesh warrior threw a smokescreen, provided for by Qessax, at the thing’s feet. As the mechanic became surprised at this, the other Kaleesh got to work. Each one began to take potshots with their slugthrowers at the foe before ducking and weaving through the clutter nearby. Disoriented, the Umbaran began to radio for backup while trying to find the enemies. One particular aggressive Kaleesh jumped from the back of a Confederate ship and landed on the mechanic’s backside. Retrieving a pouch from his side, the warrior then began to smear a slick black paste over the visual sensors of the armor, blinding the machine. “Lord-Commander” Qessax uttered into his comms. “I suggest you get those slaves under your protection. I bet when the actual firefight begins to break out, they will need as much protection as possible.” Come on Vangar, anytime now Qessax thought to himself as he continued to observe the skirmish that was beginning to occur.
  6. Tyre was at a loss of words when he finally realized what was happening. One moment, his mechanic was trying to give him excuses and pointless updates on his men’s work on the systems, the next there was suddenly a brute of a being in the control room, holding him and his man hostage. The brute even somehow sealed the doors, trapping the three together. After that moment of wordlessness passed, Tyre slowly raised his hands up, nodding to his mechanic to do the same. “Now now… pirate,” Tyre started, standing from his chair, hands still raised. “You wouldn’t want to do something…drastic would you? After all, how do you hope to command such a vessel without a fully-bodied crew? Perhaps we can help one another? The mechanic, his hands also up, looked at his commander confused. Tyre almost rolled his eyes at the man, but stopped himself, focusing entirely on the supposed pirate. He needed all of his energies focused on this one being. Umbarans were known throughout the galaxy for a number of things. Being xenophobic and and seeing in the dark was most well-documented. But there were rumors that carried grains of truth as well. Rumors such as trained umbarans influencing and reading the will of other sentient beings. Those in the highest command could even control some people like a well-trained jedi. Such feats were beyond Tyre’s ability , but he didn’t rise to the rank of captain by simply having a good track record. “Lower that weapon, pirate, and we can talk. After all…” Tyre took a step forward, his voice soothing and simple. He knew he couldn’t just get this being to surrender. But if he could get him to drop his guard momentarily, or even just get close enough… “You aren’t just any kind of brute are you? Surely you can see reason? You got in here well enough, so I know you have some brains, correct?” Thinking he was close enough, Tyre ducked down and attempted a back-hand strike against Vangar’s arm, hoping to knock the arm away from the Captain and towards the mechanic. If he was successful, combat training dictated an attempt to strike between the pirate’s joints in his side. All armor had weaknesses after all, and Tyre knew enough on exploiting weaknesses. If his first strike was successful that was. _____ Qessax took a glance towards the ship the group came in on, and realized in horror what was about to happen. One of the other Umbaran mechanics in the power armor had spotted the ship and was moving in to investigate. This time, there was no way that it could be distracted. The Umbaran was moving with a movement of confidence and determination, like that of a predator seeing a prey. No doubt he was about to radio for backup. “Boys, prepare for violence. Don’t move until my mark, repeat, don’t move until my mark. Clones, get to the control room ASAP. Assist Vangar in any way possible.” Qessax ordered, directed not at just the clones, but also his own Kaleesh men inside the ship keeping guard. At a moment’s notice, they would burst out and fight.
  7. Raid on Huk! Sullest Merchants Injured! Reports of a large Kaleesh raid on the Yam’rii homeworld has been noted throughout the galaxy. A few days ago, a single Kaleesh transport ship had arrived at Huk and landed, with several Kaleesh raiders emptying before the ship took off again to leave the system. The raiders, who have been identified as members of the Jenuwaa Children, commenced with attacks on government and mercantile buildings. While Huk’s security was quickly dispatched to deal with the threat, almost all of the Kaleesh raiders were able to escape by commandeering a GS-100 salvage ship owned by Sullest businessmen. Several planetary employees were killed, and two Sullust merchants were harmed when their ship was captured. Reports show that two kaleesh raiders did not escape. However, one of them had committed ritual suicide before being captured, and the other is held for interrogation. Rumors persist that the Yam’rii will turn the prisoner over to Alliance authorities for further interrogation, though other rumors state the Yam’rii will commence with torture before turning the prisoner over. “These renegades,” said Kaleesh ruler Khangan Han, “are still citizens of Kalee and must answer to Kaleesh justice. While their crime is reprehensible and unpardonable in my eyes, they do not deserve to be tortured by the bugs of Huk. Hopefully under the civilized techniques of Alliance interrogation, we can get more information where the Jenuwaa Children are hiding and end this threat.” With their own civillians injured, Sullest authorities have begun to apply pressure on the Alliance to deal with this problem, as well as posted several bounties on the Jenuwaa Children.
  8. Qessax breathed a sigh of relief as he witnessed the clone’s pull back into a more secure formation. That was much too close for anyone’s comfort. However, he couldn’t help but smile a bit too. This mission was making him feel alive. The stress. The excitement. It was like back on Kalee on his first Muumuu hunt, where a single mistake could cost his life. “I hope your men don’t overextend yourself again like that. Still, good plan captain.” Qessax whispered into the comm. It seemed that the Umbaran mechanics who came back didn’t even notice the clone’s work. The umbarans who had gotten nervous also calmed down a bit, each of them feeling a wave of reassurance that if they talked about with each other, may have considered it odd. But as it was, they had no time to talk about their feelings. The head slaver barked an order, and the others went back to their slaves. _____ “Sir, the engines are ready to come online” The umbaran mechanic reported. Tyre clapped his hands. “Not a moment too soon. Bring it up! Lets move this fine vessel!” The mechanics gave a salute and began to do so. Slowly the engines began to start up. After so many years of disregard, all the repairs had given them life again. Tyre smiled as widely as his pale face would allow him to do so. Finally, promotion was in his… “Ah, such a beautiful sound…” Tyre held his arms up as he glanced around. The entire ship was purring like an Umbaran Banshee. “Gentlement, lets get the ship back to Umbara and…” Tyre stopped. He saw the look of discomfort on his head mechanics face. “Sir, um…all of our panels just went off… and…” The mechanic swallowed slowly. “It seems there is a fire in the system somewhere.” Tyre brought his hands to his head, rubbing his temples, smelling the smoke already that the mechanics had smelled. “Can at least one thing on this piece of scrap work correctly?!?” He almost shouted. Tyre looked at the mechanics still in the room.This time he did shout. “What are you waiting for you idiots? Get to work! Find the issue! Move!” The head mechanic nodded and ordered the others to open the doors and to go find the problem. Only he and Tyre would stay inside. ________ Qessax looked around as all the lights in the ship came on. The umbarans all over the ship gave a cheer, seeing the lights as a sign that the ship was about to move. The slaves on the other hand, weren’t so happy, earning some more whippings from the slavers. Qessax whispered sternly into the comms. “Everyone, just because the lights are on doesn’t mean the Umbarans see you. Don’t panic now. Vangar, I hope you are at the control room, we are running out of time here”
  9. The umbaran mechanic nearly jumped at the sound of the metal that fell from above, even inside his protective armor. The crosswire beam echoed throughout the hangar, making the slaves who were working jump, and even their slaving masters had to pause before getting the slaves back into gear. “Well, not what i expected, but not bad” Qessax whispered into his comms, confident that what had just happened was because of his team mates. He had a sneaking suspicion it was the Force users, but he wasn’t going to admit that yet. The Umbaran mechanic, sufficiently distracted, went to investigate the fallen metal. Once he found the piece, he began to scan above, making sure there was no risk of any further potential accidents. Still, the slavers were disturbed, and more then a few slaves were taking advantage in the lull of enforcement to take a break. Some of the slavers had lost all focus on the slaves and were glancing around. Something was off. One of them was even leaving the slaves under another slaver's care to investigate the area. Nobody could pinpoint it, but something felt off to them. “Vangar, i believe you should be near the command station by now. I’m transferring some of the security codes to you. Hopefully, they can open the doors, but I can’t say anything about the men inside. My guess is their leader is getting ready to start the ship up soon.” Little did Qessax realize how true that was. Even as Tyr sipped at his drink, one of the mechanics alerted him it would only be a few more minutes before the engines were operational. “Hold on…” Qessax breathed into his comm, raising his sensors up to his eyes again. “Looks like we got some slaves making a move from their group. Tilt, they are moving in your direction. You boys better hurry up whatever you are doing. We are close and i don’t want to muck this up now. If they make too much noise,…” Qessax didn't want to even think of the consequences of failure of stealth. ____________ Tyr congratulated the mechanic nearby for a job well done. A promotion was incoming for everyone, that was for certain. Once the engines started in less then ten minutes, the ship would be maneuvered towards the planet and within their fleet of smaller craft for protection “Sir, two of our drones just went out. I’m not sure why…” Tyr furrowed his brow. The last known location of the drones were very close. Too close. No, he was not about to lose his promotion. Not when he was this close to perfect completion. “Get some men up here to check it out. And seal the bridge. I don’t want a stray mynock to get in here and muck everything up. No, not the blast doors, just seal it tight, as a precaution.”
  10. Qessax growled slightly as he signaled back to the others still on the ship. A few hand gestures made his commands known. Stay, guard the ship, kill potential liabilities, be ready to move. Silence was key. He was almost excited to actually be in the field again like this. However, he was not fully happy. The Knights had made their move towards the slavers and the slaves. Their desires were too evident to the Imperial Agent. Hopefully, they would be effective. The slavers didn’t seem to notice the Knights yet, but with their adapted eyes, the darkness was a bright day for them. Their whips were still activated, and their focus was still on the slaves. Qessax did feel an ounce of pity for them. His own people had their own history of slavery, and these slavers were being forced to work in unsafe and unsanitory conditions that even a Bolosar would be uncomfortable. One of the slavers did stop and peer around him. Having heard something, the Umbaran peered through the shadows like it was day time, seeking a noise he may or may not have imagined. The other five slavers continued their own work, while the slaves continued on, many on the brink of falling unconscious from exhaustion. Qessax refocused himself. The Knights would do as they saw fit. If they messed up anything too badly, at least they could be a distraction. Instead, he worked himself with the clones, following their steps and guiding where he could. He eventually broke off and found himself a perch where he could see most of the hangar, and the others. He had one thing the others didn’t fully have: the schematics of the ship memorized like the back of his hand. He would be a lookout and a guide where he could. “Wing Guard…” Qessax whispered into his comm. “Be watching those corners of the walls. Umbarans have been known to use modified Millicreep droids to patrol areas they can’t post soldiers at. If you are spotted, its done for. It was then he saw the first complication of the mission. He had to adjust his night binoculars to make sure he was seeing it correctly, but his hunter senses told him more than enough. Like a hunter tracking a muumuu, he could track this target. “Team…” Qessax whispered into his comm for the whole team of clones, mercenaries, guards and Knights. “One of the power suits is moving toward the ship. Time of contact 1 minute. Need a distraction. Nothing too noisy, but something to pull the thing away”
  11. Tyr Tormo wrinkled his forehead again at the computer beepings in the command room. “What happened?” He asked, his tone more then betraying his nervousness. “Sir, looks like…” The officer had to squint his eyes. None of the umbarans were quite used to the brightness the neimoidians had liked their screens at during that long ago war. “One Sith vessel and several unregistered ships making their way through the minefield.” Tormo’s eyes widened. “Prepare all available guns and fighters. Those ships need to be destroyed before they get out a mes-” “Scratch that,” the officer interrupted. “Sith ship no longer on our sensors. Must have been destroyed by the other ships.” With no way of knowing that the force had cloaked the supposed Sith ship, Tormo breathed a sigh of relief. No doubt the Sith ship was a refugee from the recent catastrophe at Nar Shaddaa, and the pirates saw an easy target. “What of the pirates?” Tormo asked. The officer smiled a wide grin. “Being disabled by the mines sir. Soon they’ll be suffocating like a goldie out of water. Or shall I assemble the fighters?” Tormo grunted a no and leaned back into his seat. After a few moments drumming his fingers on the arm rest, he came to another conclusion. “Activate the turbolasers, and get all the slaves out of sleep, working double time as well. I want this thing done sooner than later. Those pirates won’t get us, And bring me another bottle. Something a bit more fine if possible…” Tormo looked at his watch. Less than an hour before the ship’s engines would be working again. Then they could move the entire piece of junk closer to home. ___ Qessax breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t realize he had been holding it. Now that the sensors on this small ship were showing that what he had assumed were mines were dealing with the scavengers, he could ease up a bit. “Kill the engines as soon as possible” Qessax ordered. “I want these Umbarans to have as few reasons to detect us as possible. There certainly was life in the hangar, ranging from several hundred of slaves implanted with command chips being forced by Umbaran captors armed with electrowhips, numerous mechanics managing specialized repair drones, and the odd soldier patrolling the massive decks However, rows and rows of old battle droids stood by in power mode, awaiting a reawaken command from the commanding force that no longer existed made patrolling both difficult and creepy. Besides the battle droids, old troop transports, assault tanks, Vulture droids and landing craft stood at the ready. The other thing that posed a threat were the head engineers in specialized power armor. Both soldier and mechanic, these Umbarars were equipped with plasma cutting torches, ion and stun weapons, and advanced shielding tech, all within heavily encased armor. Of the 250 Umbarans on board the entire ship, only 20 were equipped with the armor. Landing the ship was easy enough. With all the battle droids, transports, and the now enforced double-time, people weren’t noticing a ship landing in the maze of a ship. The only difficulty was the lack of lighting in the entire hangar. The Umbarans had long adapted to low-light situations, and only the slaves had head lamps to improve their work conditions enough to make them both effective and easy to spot. As the ship landed, Qessax turned to everyone else. “Alright, we got this far. Now for the hard part.”
  12. Tyr Tormo quietly sipped at his drink, groaning at the sourness the liquor had acquired recently. It had been so long since they had a resupply of good drink and food, and this bottle had gone bad somehow. He twisted his face slightly at the drink, but took another sip, eager to get a little loose. Today was going to be a good day. Soon the lucrehulk, long disabled and mostly forgotten, would be fixed, and he, Tyr Tormo, would rise to the Lootai caste. One more step to Rootai, Umbaran Royalty in all but name. One of the consoles beeped at the 3 mechanics in the command room. Furrowing his brow, he barked at the men, demanding an explanation. The lead mechanic, a blubbering man, quickly explained that a few mynocks had been detected on the outer hull, and somehow got inside. Tyr Tormo groaned and took another sip, before ordering security to the affected area. It was a pity the Umbaran mines encircling the Lucrehulk couldn’t handle those nuisances. Those Seeker Ion Mines were designed to go after electrical signals, but for whatever reason, those little bats weren’t noticed by the mines. Perhaps they were just too small, or maybe it was something else. Either way, the mines had their uses. Until the Lucrehulk was activated, any pirates or foolish explorers who happened on by would be quickly disabled and then suffocate in the vacuum of space. The mines had caught several such people last cycle. While their own long range sensors couldn’t detect anything, the mines would prevent any incursions, cloaked or not cloaked. Even as his face puckered at the taste of the drink, he couldn’t help but smile. Despite all the troubles he had so far, from rogue droids that powered up randomly, to losing crew members from forgotten security protocols, to replacing defective mines, to killing off the occasional mynock infestation, to the odd slave backlash, he was still happy. Advancement was in sight, and nothing was going to stop that. _________________________________ Qessax looked at the others in the almost claustrophobic ship. He had forgotten how he missed this. The quiet before the storm. A metaphorical term, since there was noise to be expected. Every ship made them, and every member of the ship made them. But in these moments, there was a special stillness that every warrior and hunter felt. Qessax glanced at the Viceroy who asked a question. “Let me check with them” Qessax replied and made his way to the cockpit. He needed to stretch his legs a little, so the excuse to move was welcomed. “Gentlemen…” Qessax greeted the @Tilt07 pilot and the others. He would’ve smiled, but with all the covering over his face and body, such a thing would be pointless. Before he could ask any questions, he stoped as he caught a glimpse at the ship’s scanners. “Hold up…” Qessax brought a hand up as he tried to peer closer at the new blips that had begun to appear on screen. “What are those?”
  13. General News Alert A schism among the Kaleesh has been noted. Following the vast liberal changes that Khangan Han has enacted, including the newest factories built thanks to the government of Cloud City, a small but fierce group known as the Jenuwaa Children have led open resistance, killing several unprotected off worlders and attempting to bomb the factories. Recently, the Jenuwaa Children managed to get their hands on several transport ships on Kalee. With their own forces still weakened by recent events, the Kaleesh government was unable to capture or stop the Jenuwaa Children from escaping. Where they are now is unknown. Khangan Han has declared the Jenuwaa children to be criminals and should be considered dangerous, even if they have no known starfighters in use. Khangan Han believes they will revert to the older ways after establishing a base of operations, and begin to declare war on ancient enemies, a very long and unfortunately broad list.
  14. Qessax had dismissed his droid by the time he got to his tent. It wouldn’t be able to come along on the mission, but he knew his secretary droid would handle everything that it could while he was gone. If he wasn’t in a bitter mood, he would have smiled at the bargain deal the droid had been. In his tent, Qessax had begun to prepare his own disguise. Black wrappings over his limbs would help mask his form, and heavily padded areas on his arms and more bony parts would make it look less Kaleesh and something more mammalian. The head was a bit more difficult, but with the wrappings to hide his tusks, he could then use some black tinted goggles to give the appearance of something akin to Aqualish. Ancestors knew the two species could share a sense of anger. It was when he was wrapping his arms when the clones came in. “Captain, come in, come in…” Qessax waved the clone in as he continued his own work. “Delta has a very long history in the galaxy…” Qessax started. “Like you, he was a clone for the republic before this whole Sith business started up. Heavily trained as an ARC trooper and clone commando. Somehow survived to eventually fight for Black Sun, and then in turn the Sith. Had a specialty with hand-to-hand combat and squad command” Qessax had just finished his limb and body wrappings and was now working on his head. “He was known for his brutality under the Sith. Brutal but efficient is what most of the reports show. Last confirmed sighting was during the battle of Nar Shaddaa. Unconfirmed if he died in it, which is how I hope to keep it.” Qessax adjusted his goggles, fitting perfectly underneath the wrappings. A quick glance into the mirror made his spirits rise a bit. He was a spitting image of an Aqualish undercover. Qessax faced the captain and exited the tent with him. “Something captain you will want to keep in mind is that these are Umbarans we are facing. Their ability to see in ultraviolet light means staying out of their line of sight is imperative. And unfortunately, our information on what kind of tech they brought in to fix the ship is a bit more limited, so be prepared for anything…” Qessax struggled for a better word. “...weird.” Qessax looked the clone once over. “Anything else captain?”
  15. Qessax gave a disappointed sigh. “Very well. If that is how it is, then that is how it is.” Qessax looked the Force User dead in the eye. His people would’ve seen this as a challenge. He felt that Qymaen jai Sheelal, the ancestor he prayed to so often, was practically whispering in his ear, telling him that he was now practically taking orders from a force wielder. He needed to make sure not to give into baser instincts. “This mission will be strictly of stealth. However, if this is to be done, any proof of your identity must be either removed or so well disguised that even your mothers wouldn’t recognise you. That includes things such as weapons that identify you as an Imperial Knight…” Qessax gave a noticeable glance towards the nearest lightsaber in the vicinity: the one carried by the Lord Commander. “Or insignia that identify you as a member of our armed forces” Qessax gave a glance towards the clones. “Or any kind of uniform whatsoever” A glance to the viceroy. “You don’t have to disguise yourself. But you can’t be identified at all. Period. No faces can be seen. No marks of identification. Cover your tattoos and birthmarks even. Try to get yourself to the point that your own mother wouldn't recognize you. The moment you are identified as a member of the Alliance, then the mission in my eyes is a blow to the Alliance credibility.” “If that is all, I will see you later at the Leech…” Qessax gave a brief salute to Vangar, and dismissed himself, droid following at his side. “Make the adjustments. I’ll be in my tent” Qessax had to make a few more prayers and contact his own Kaleesh forces that would be coming along. They would need to similarly alter their clothing choices. He himself had a pirate garb that would properly prevent any kind of identity. Still, even as he walked, he felt his feet try to tear through his boots in annoyance. This kind of disrespect would be hopefully a one-time event.
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