Nar Shaddaa

[Qessax Jal Todda]

Qessax’ orange face paled at what he witnessed. The squibs that Kolchak had sent out were doing their duty diligently. The mines were also doing their fair share. Taking Nar Shaddaa would not be an easy task for the Sith by any means. Qessax knew Kolchak was making the price of attacking this place not worth whatever prize the Sith were hoping to attain here. 

 

But then the karken' black hole opened up. 

 

Agent Qessax had heard the stories of what magic the Sith and Jedi were able to conjure up. Having never seen Force users in action before, that’s what those stories were. Stories. Nothing else. Somewhere in the back of his head, he believed that the shamans back home had more authority over the Force then some of these people. 

Agent Qessax shook his masked face. There was no denying that the Sith were powerful. 

 

An alert came on one of the consoles that the Kaleesh oversaw. He smiled. The Kaleesh fleet had arrived. 

 

A short distance away from the battlezone, closer to the planet of Nal Hutta than the moon,  appeared several corvettes and freighters. Most of them were older than the war had been. The newest and leading ship, The Rabid Mumuu, was a CR 70, heavily retrofitted to match ships of the modern era it was fighting in. Everything else was older, and modified even more so. Even a dated CR-12 was in the ship’s ranks. These were ships from a time when the Huk war had still been ongoing. When bugs thought they were superior to the people of Kalee. The Kaleesh people needed whatever they could use to fight the bugs from another planet, and so they stole the Huk’s ships in their war. 

 

Qessax gave a silent praise to the Force and his father and all of his ancestors. With a few key swipes, the intelligence agent sent the data of the locations of the mines to his brother. 

 

 The ships had exited hyperspace with their engines still on. They were full-speed towards the Sith Armada, black hole or not. They would not slow down. They would not give up. What these warriors lacked in formal training, they made up for in unusual tactics. They would skirt alongside the Sith Fleet, begin to bombard their smaller ships, then move towards Nar Shaddaa. With luck, they would lure some of the Sith forces away from the main fleet and become easier targets. 

[Qessax Jal Todda]

Qessax thought he was used to the chaos of battle. He had grown up in the jungles of Kalee, hunting and killing others of his kind for his father until he was taken to learn under the imperials. He had ridden speeder bikes, killed large Muumuus, raided tribes, rescued captives and captured slaves. 

 

But this, Qessax had look at in shock. He was not used to this kind of battle. 

 

The Kaleesh warriors that Qessax directed did their jobs well, if a bit unorthodox. But in this battle, well was not good enough. Heavy casualties would be a foregone conclusion. Complete destruction was still a possibility. 

 

Qessax felt his stomach tighten. A Kaleesh instinct that something was going wrong. 

 

“Brother!” Qessax spoke to the hologram of his oldest sibling. “Get close to the Constantine. Prepare for evacuation if neccessary. You can utilize your cargo cables to grab as many escape pods as possible.”

 

His brother, a muscular being even by Kaleesh standards, gave Qessax a disapproving glare. 

 

“I don’t think so! We can fight longer. Fleeing is not a possibility. And we’ve lost too much to abandon these destroyed ships”

 

Qessax banged his hand and gave his sibling a strong pointing. “By our ancestors, you listen now. The battle is going south. We both know it, and I know you have a bigger obligation to our father. No ships means our tribe will be weak, and that is not acceptable. Lose any scrap you’ve picked up if you have to, but my order stands. Let father be my judge when this is done”

 

With that, Qessax closed the transmission and broke into a dash towards the bridge. His stomach refused to loosen. Something bad was going on. 

 

It didn’t take long for the experienced agent to figure out what had happened. The silence on the bridge was deafening. 

 

“Sir” Qessax addressed Kolchak. “We have to assume the worst” Qessax hated saying such things, but the evidence that was mounting was not positive at all. “I’ve ordered my brother and what’s left of the Kaleesh to support us.”

 

A pause filled the room.

 

“Your orders sir?”

[Qessax Jal Todda]

Qessax took the baton almost stoically, if only because his years of training at Imperial Academy taught him to. A command was a command, and that was that. 

 

“Yes sir” Qessax said, refusing to elaborate. With a click of the heels, he turned and walked off the command bridge into a hallway. A distance away, an elevator waited. 

 

Qessax stopped. The others who did choose to leave the bridge had to make their way around the Kaleesh Imperial Agent. He was practically a black pillar in the middle of the walk way. 

 

“Agent Qessax to Officer Keels” Qessax tapped his comm. “Make sure that pod 2A does not leave without my authorization. That is an order. Qessax out” 

 

The agent sighed and turned around to face the door to the Command Bridge. He knew what he needed to do. Unfortunately, what was necessary wasn’t exactly easy. He knew the Grand Moff. Kolchak could be as stubborn and as intense as the metal in his eye. 

 

“Qymaen jai Sheelal…” Qessax started to pray a bit, taking his mask from his side. “Give me strength and give me power. Make your might mine, and your cunning my inheritance”

 

Qessax slid the mask over his face. Its white bone was perfectly carved at the edges to fit right over the ears, making it almost impossible to come off accidentally. While it was no war mask like his siblings’, it was intimidating in its own right.  Early on in Qessax’s training, the mask got him into a lot of trouble. But eventually people understood that when the Kaleesh wore it, he was not speaking as a member of the Empire, but instead as a member of the Tribe of Todda. 

 

The Kaleesh War Hunter stepped back onto the command bridge, hand still clutching the batan. He felt the eyes that looked at him. He took a breath. 

 

“Great Chief, I must demand a private audience with you” Qessax stated, trying to prevent his nervousness from affecting his voice too much. It wasn’t as successful as he would have liked. “And as a representative of the Todda tribe, i demand it before your pointless demise”

 

Qessax gulped a large piece of phlegm. This could be the end of his career, and he knew it. But too much was at stake.  

[Qessax Jal Todda]

The Kaleesh Imperial gave a slight nod of thanks as he exited the escape pod onto the deck of Rabid Muumuu. The other Kaleesh warriors onboard gave a welcoming growl, one that Qessax did not return. Instead, he passed by them quickly and with intent. Years of work on ships gave the agent an instinct on how to find the command bridge on his own. 

 

The bridge itself was a chaotic mess of order. Despite being savages to most of the known galaxy, the Kaleesh on board were working diligently, coordinating as best as they could with what little forces that remained under their control. The figure who stood in control of the chaos barked out orders like the war-chief that he was. 

 

“Brother” Qessax growled as he stepped to his brother’s side. His elder sibling gave him a glance, and the two nodded to each other. Their yellow eyes behind their masks spoke levels of volume.

 

“What of your great Chief?” 

 

Qessax pointed at the screen, towards the Constantine. “He has chosen to join his ancestors in glorious battle” 

 

“A fitting death. One that we might share”

 

Qessax shook his head. “Not yet. The Butcher of Hypori would not approve a premature death for us.” 

 

With his siblings' permission, the Imperial Agent passed on several codes, including encrypted ones. With the capture of several Imperial Ships, whoever had taken charge of the situation would no doubt alter the transponder codes to prevent the enemy from utilizing Imperial Communications.  It didn’t take long to be proven right, as the Ancillary Justice's message came through . 

 

“This is Agent Qessax, Imperial Intelligence to the Ancillary Justice” Qessax spoke towards the small astromech nearby. It was connected to the Rapid Muumuu’s sensors and communications, and began transmitting a holo-message to the ship that seemed to have taken charge of the battle. He didn’t know the commander that well. He had only brief encounters with the Barabel, and even then they were not that informative, but in the heat of battle, hopefully the commander wouldn’t mind the fact that the Kaleesh still wore his mask over his uniform. 

 

“Commander Vangar, I regret to inform you that the Constantine is falling. Kolchak has refused to leave, and is readying for ramming speed.” 

 

In other words, Kolchak was going out guns blazing. 

 

Qessax had to catch himself as the ship shook under the gunfire that lit its shields. Despite its small size and speed, the Rapid Muumuu wouldn’t last long under all the strain.

  

“Sir, we are gathering what escape pods we can, but then we are evacuating to the rendezvous. We can not hold out much longer.  I suggest you do the same."

 

Qessax waited for the commander's reply. It was hard admitting defeat, or even just the need to run away. But the Kaleesh were used to that. Hit and run tactics were their bread and butter, and sometimes, there needed to be less hits then runs.  But he was an Imperial officer first and foremost. He obeyed his superiors to the very end. 

[Qessax Jal Todda]

There was a pause in the ship as the command came through. All of the kaleesh warriors looked at their commanders for direction. This battle was borderline suicidal and they knew it. 

 

Agent Qessax knew it as well, but he also knew some other factors. 

 

"You heard their orders! Make fire on the black scarab! "

 

"Hold off on that!" 

 

Qessax's older brother had placed a hand on his siblings shoulder, forcing him to look face to face. Even behind their bone masks, there was a glimmer of fear in both of their eyes.

 

"Suicide does not make one a god. And that black hole is nothing but suicide" the elder sibling growled. He was right. Kaleesh culture, despite being considered primitive by most, hated hopeless suicide. Fighting to the end was worthy, but only if there was a good reason to. Fighting just for the sake of death was frowned upon. That was what separated the kalee from the sith. 

 

Qessax's training kicked in and slapped the hand away. 

 

"We have been ordered to continue fighting, and we will do so. Black hole or not, we will continue fighting until we are unable t…"

 

Qessax didn't finish his sentence. Even as they argued, the singularity that had tore the battlefield dissipated, followed by the bursts of light from the sith fleet. 

 

"Move and open fire now!" Qessax roared a command to the stunned kaleesh. "This is the Rabid MuuMuu and it will continue to fight as such!"

[Qessax Jal Todda]

The Rapid Muumuu continued to fight despite, or perhaps to spite, all the chaos. While the Kaleesh warriors on board were nervous and more then a little confused at why they were still fighting, they seemed to at least respect the chain of command to the chief’s sons. And the eldest seemed to know enough that Qessax knew what he was doing. 

 

Qessax bit his lips behind his mask, happy that no one could see how little he truly knew. 

 

This was not what he signed up for. Ship command was something he did well with in the academy, but he had spent most of his Imperial life in intelligence gathering. Not warfare. 

 

The orders came through. Commander Beck was a notable commander, if a clone. Not that there was anything wrong with that. It was just Kaleesh culture didn’t exactly know what to make of clones. Were they individual souls or all part of the same soul? 

 

Good thing only Agent Qessax knew this fact and not the other warriors. 

 

“Alright, keep moving on the Black Scarab you savages, that thing is going down!” Qessax barked at the warriors around him. He had to do his best to not show any hesitation. “Put all of our shields to the front and get those tow cables ready…”

 

While the Rabid Muumuu was an old republic corvette, it had been in use by the Kaleesh for a long time. One of the modifications the Kaleesh had been making to their ships were tow cables and weak tractor beams. With no shipyards back home, the Kaleesh had to salvage and steal what they could. While not the most honorable of trades, it provided one unique offensive capability. 

 

“Grab whatever debris you can. The bigger the better. We are going to use everything against that Scarab, and then give them hell with our lasers. If we succeed, I guarantee that each of you will have a wife-in-waiting back home.” 

 

The Kaleesh warriors roared a roar of acknowledgement, and got to work. The nearest and largest debris was from the Constantine. Qessax couldn’t help but find it ironic that Kolchak had given the Kaleesh Agent one last gift to use in this battle. 
 

[Qessax Jal Todda]

As the black scarab plummeted towards the surface, the warriors aboard the Rabid Muumuu gave out a victory cheer. Their enemy had lost control and were falling to their doom. Their souls had been defeated, and the ancestors of each kaleesh on board would nod in approval. Death had been dealt to the enemy, and they remained. 

 

Agent Qessax however stood perfectly still, eyes widened with horror, and panic began to set in.

 

"Do not stop yet!" Qessax commanded, sobering his men instantly. "We are not out of range! Get us out of range now! Full speed away from the scarab! Loose all scrap and move!"

 

The crew obeyed. Only now under their commanders orders did they see the threat that remained. 

 

The explosion rocked the rapid muumuu like a canoe on a title wave. Agent Qessax grabbed the control panel and braced himself as the ship tumbled and shook over itself. Only the distance and the fully charged shields saved the ship from complete destruction, as everyone aboard stumbled and fell over themselves, crashing into panels, walls, and floors.. 

 

"Damage report!"

 

The damage was severe. Engines were knocked out. Shields were completely fried. They were sitting ducks. 

 

Fear began to set in again in the Imperial agents mind, working in overdrive. 

 

"Get those engines working immediately. I don't want to be picked off in our hour of victor-"

 

Qessax stopped. His men were no longer cheering, nor frantically clinging to their posts like scsred animals. 

 

They were laughing. 

 

Qessax looked down and realized why. His black imperial uniform, usually pressed and well taken care of, had completely ripped along the sides and past his crotch, revealing everything underneath. 

 

Qessax, after a moment of comprehension, began to laugh too. 

 

"What's the matter you cowards? Ashamed of seeing a rabid muumuu on the rabid muumuu?"

 

The laughter broke into a roar, as everyone cheered, chanted and danced in victory. Each warrior, tense to the very end, relieved themselves of all the stress that had been built up. They had won. They were victorious. True, the costs had been great. Possibly too great for some. But for the kaleesh warriors, who were accustomed to small fire fights and raids, this was a tremendous victory. 

 

His elder brother handed the agent his cape to cover up. Having done so, Qessax kicked his boots off and stretched his clawed toes on the metal floor. It wasn't like any imperial would be mad for breaking dress code at this point. All of his clothes had been aboard the…

 

Qessax instantly sobered up as he looked at the wreckage of the Constantine. His mentors corpse laid somewhere amongst the wreckage. A wave of grief washed over the warrior, nearly collapsing forward onto a control board. The one saving grace that prevented Qessax from breaking down completely was his own personal beliefs. The Grand Moff had earned a worthy death after a worthy life of battle. He would be immortalized in kaleesh tales to come. 

 

"Men…" Qessax spoke out. "Get the ship's engines working, and acknowledge all orders sent to us. We will move to the rendezvous when we are able" 

[Qessax Jal Todda]

“Sir, the ship is ready to move now. We have engines running and should last one more jump”

 

Qessax nodded at the warrior and breathed a sigh of relief. At least that had gone down without issue. 

 

“Sir, we are receiving word from another ship…” 

 

Qessax looked at the nearest control panel and raised an eyebrow. A squib ship, heavily damaged in the firefight, was barely limping itself closer to the Rapid Muumuu. Qessax was actually partially impressed. With no engines, the squibs were using their own tractor beams to pull themselves to pieces of debris and swing themselves closer. 

 

“It seems they are requesting our services to get to the rendezvous point.”

 

Qessax laughed once. “And the only reason they do so is because we have tow cables like them!”

 

After a brief looking at his brother, Qessax nodded. 

 

“Rabid Muumuu to Sith 7-8” Qessax started

 

“Stupid name” the elder brother mutterred, who received a hand wave from his sibling. 

 

“Get close and we will hook our ships together. Transfer your controls to us, and we will get you to Ylesia. 

 

“It is a stupid name”

 

“Ya ya…” Qessax rolled his eyes. He couldn’t really argue with that point.  Shortly afterwards, both ships jumped into hyperspace.