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Other Worlds


handofthrawn
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IN ORBIT OVER HOSRA:

 

The streaks of hyperspace resolved to pinpoint pricks of starlight and distant worlds. Standing on the bridge, Vangar breathed a sigh of relief. He had half expected some hidden vigilantes to cause problems midflight. There had been vigilantes, those who refused to take the opportunity to go home. Most were gunned down without remorse by responding security droids aboard the ship. One group managed to almost make it to the bridge; the jammed doors prevented that for long enough a time for forces to respond. By the time the ship dropped from hyperspace, Vangar Longfang was certain the ship had been cleared of dissidents.

 

Slowly the Lucrehulk spun into position high above the agrarian world. A dozen transports hung in orbit, slowly moving towards the former Trade Federarion warship. Once they had docked teams of Imperial and Rebel naval teams, marines, and soldiers boarded. They would assist in moving refugees and prisoners offsite and begin assessments of the vessel, moving it to a new secure dockyard. There the retrofitting would be complete and the ship entered into Alliance service.

 

Vangar and his team remained on the bridge until the damaged doors had been opener. At that time, one and a half dozen naval troopers and technicians poured into the bridge. Removing his helmet, Vangar turned to face the new arrivals who offered salutes. He returned the salute as a grizzled Rebel commander stepped forward, “Lieutenant Commander Hays Krile here to relieve you sir.”

 

Vangar smiled, “So relieved. The ship is yours commander. We will depart within the hour.” Vangar turned to @Tilt07 and his men. “Well done men. You are relieved. Report back to HQ after you take a few days R&R.” Keying his comm to the rest of the team, Vangar announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, mission accomplished.” His smile was audible across the airwaves. “Unless you wish to remain aboard and are authorized as such, we should be off within the hour.”

 

Vangar then strode from the deck, flanked by a duo of paired marines, 2 Imperial, 2 Rebel. Finding the remainder of the crew, he smiled and offered a brisk salute. “Well done each of you. The Alliance has need of you all. The Sith have left this galaxy in a state of turmoil. It is up to us to put it right. From here, I will adjourn to the Deep Core. Our allies have offered us a secure base of operations from which to act from. If you are not otherwise assigned, you may accompany me.”

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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. 

Edited by Qessax Jal Todda
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Vangar turned to regard the Kaleesh intelligence operative. “A Crown Regent and a Viceroy has many commitments. Shadowy operations to retrieve wayward warships are few and far between. Now, I must resume my public persona.” He shook his head as he began to walk, signaling the warrior to walk alongside him. As they neared a hallway, he continued, “The galaxy has been torn asunder. Even as peoples begin to rebuild, they will look to the Empire, the Rebellion, and the Alliance for guidance and, at times, assistance. It will be up to us to see that we present a face of strength and compassionate resolution.”

 

Reaching a docking chute, the Barabel stopped. He ran a gloved hand over the glistening durasteel as he pondered for a moment before continuing. The muscles beneath the armored weave rippled visibly as he clenched his fist and rapped it against the bulkhead. “Nar Shaddaa has been destroyed. The Empire has been decapitated. We may have won, but at great cost. We too must rebuild. An unlikely ally has offered us a new base of operations in the Deep Core. We will proceed there to build relations and secure a headquarters to work from; but first, I must return to my home on Bespin. We need to put our best foot forward. If you would send for a regiment of your finest regaled soldiers, you may accompany me. Provided, of course, you are not needed elsewhere commander?” 

 

Vangar keyed open the door to the waiting transport. He smiled to the Kaleesh as he gestured aboard. “Perhaps your father would lead the men, an envoy of strength on behalf of the Alliance.” Waggling an eyebrow ridge, he chuckled softly before disappearing aboard the waiting craft. He would check in with the ship commander and direct them towards Cloud City and The Bespin Storm.

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