Nar Shaddaa - Rebel Alliance Headquarters

[Raven Nasra]

Nar Shaddaa (Rebel Alliance Headquarters):

 

Astrographical Information

Region: Mid Rim

Sector: Hutt Space

System: Y'Toub System

Orbital Position: moon of the 3rd planet (Nal Hutta)

Moons: one of 5

Grid Coordinates: S-8

 

Physical Information

Class: Terrestrial

Atmosphere: Type 1 Breathable

Primary Terrain: polluted cityscape

Points of Interest: Rimmer's Rest, Promenade, The Slag Pit

Major Cities:

 

• New Vertica
• Ko Hentota
• Duros Sector
• Corellian Sector
• Refugee Sector
• Red Sector
• Undercity
• Industrial Sector

 

Societal Information

Indigenous Species: Ganks

Immigrated Species:

 

• Hutts
• t'landa Til
• Humans
• Colicoids
• Vippits
• Evocii
• Trandoshans
• Twi'leks
• Many others

 

Primary Language(s): Huttese, Galactic Basic

Population: 72-95 billion (human minority)

Faction Affiliation: Imperial Remnant, Rebel Alliance

 

Defense Rating: Level 4

 

“The Red and Black” is the headquarters of the Rebel Alliance on Nar Shaddaa. It is situated in a rough, crime-stricken part of Nar Shaddaa--rough even for the Smuggler’s Moon. The blocks surrounding the main structure consist largely of formerly dilapidated warehouses that had been converted to barracks, hangar space, and training arenas. The largest of the hangars has been reinforced to support landing by atmosphere-worthy corvettes. The training arenas can be rebuilt on short notice to simulate the interiors of large capital ships--even a sizeable fraction of an Imperial II-class Star Destroyer.

 

Within the center of the region lies the headquarters proper--a former casino that saw its glory days decades before the rise of the Empire. The structure was stripped of its former lavishness by years of scavenging and the final death knell to its opulent past was dealt by the Rebel engineers who have removed any trace of its civilian origin in the project to renovate it for military use. However, even the reinforcing struts and armored cladding cannot detract from the opulent use of space and arching ceilings, reminiscent of the luxurious use of space in Coruscanti Republican architecture; nor can the military holoprojectors disguise the fact that its briefing rooms were once theatres and the staff offices were once hotel rooms.

 

Centuries in the past, The Red and Black was an opulent casino from the height of the Hutt Cartels in the waning years of the Old Republic. Decorated lavishly with white and black marble and crimson trim, its nearly-unpronounceable Huttese name quickly fell into disuse and the casino was referred to almost exclusively by its nickname. With the rise of the Empire and its advance into the Outer Rim, however, the criminal empire of the Hutt Cartels began to consolidate around smuggling and the drug trade and their more legitimate enterprises began to crumble. Neglected by the Hutts, The Red and Black decayed into a shell of its former self until it was abandoned, and then picked apart by scavengers for valuable scrap and metals. The casino was slated to be demolished as a victim of the Imperial Remnant’s rebuilding projects, but the unusual Republican architecture of the casino and its name were viewed as an auspicious token for the formation of the Rebel Alliance. The structure and its surroundings were seized as facilities for its headquarters on Coruscant.

 

((First post goes to Bruce Slaughter.))

[Raven Nasra]

The Black painted Star Destroyer Misericordia in all of its grandeur emerged on the edges of the Nal Hutta system after its delay in retrieving Raven Zinthos, the empress of the old imperial remnant. Which had subsided into the new Rebel Alliance along with the embittered remnants of the old Galactic Alliance of whom very few people had much good to say. Yet Raven was happy to have unioned with past enemies in the face of the destruction that was the Sith Lords. Those foolish conniving Sith that had attempted an assassination and had gotten little out of it except the deaths of multiple Sith Lords and the wounding of Raven and Cassandra. Both of whom were in the recovery ward. They had much to discuss with the Lady Adenna. 

[Raven Nasra]

The bacta gel was sticky and tacky to the touch, it was slathered thickly on the back of her head, causing her to pull her hair into a high style, and forgoing the normal hat that she wore. She stood in a dark uniform that covered her in the Imperial style, high epaulettes of silver that matched the rank cylinders that were tucked in her breast pocket. She no longer wore her old lightsabre, instead it had been replaced by one of the mass created ones that the imperial knights were so very fond of. A simple sabre with little ornamentation, its silver blade was as plain as the handle. 

 

But here the empress without a throne stood, as a technician worked on her battered metallic arm, staring into the tank in front of her. In which floated her own form, a clone, designed for the mission and yet unused. The imperial Knights that had fought beside her were also standing at attention as the Rebel Admiral was admitted and announced. 

 

Raven saluted, as did her guard. She listened smiling politely as one of the medical orderies applied another clump of gel to the side of her face, which had been slightly burned by the Sith’s attacks. 

 

“I would be most agreeable to enjoin with the Rebel alliance in this venture. You have the support of the imperial crown. Whatever remains of it, and I will join your task force with my own, Is that acceptable Admiral?”

[Raven Nasra]

Raven stood a while watching her clone’s tank with an interest that bordered on the spiritual. Her unseeing eyes looked back at her for what seemed like an eternity as her orderlies left her to go prepare the royal task force for its mission to Chandrilia. Soon we was alone except for Valiston Alekseyev, the head of the Inquisitorium, and a close friend, who was staring as well at the row of bodies floating in the tanks. His face wore the normal slight disapproving tone that came with his rank, and he looked up sharply as the sound of a fast talking female came tittering down the medial ward. He cocked his head to the side until Raven spoke in return. 

 

“Alekseyev, when she is finished with her rounds and if willing, will you have her come in here and see me? I wish to learn this power I can feel her tapping into.” 

 

He smiled softly and nodded his silver haired head. “As you wish Empress.” He clapped his arm across his chest in salute and strode out of the curtained partition they were standing in.

 

He walked softly, almost tenderly among the rows of wounded, reaching out his mind to feel around him, finding the source of the force that was pushing the darkness out of the ward. She would feel him coming likely, as he did not intend to hide his presence in a place where it would bring reassurance to those looking for an icon of the lightside. 

 

The girl was a young Mon Calamari, a race that had very little love for the old Imperial tradition. But neither had he when he was an apprentice, fighting them in many fronts until the dissolution of the New Republic into the Galactic Alliance. It was then, when he and many of the others had left the Alliance in its weakness in order to find and destroy the sith where they hid. Perhaps it had been their own actions that had awakened the sleepless threat that now overran the Galaxy. Perhaps it had been wrong to leave the Jedi when they had most needed their mighty warriors. Perhaps it had been wrong to follow Kyrie in her crusade to the only front that was actively fighting the Sith. But that was for the history holos to decide and scholars to debate. His mind was set in its purpose, and he wore the armour of the Imperial Knights with pride. Red on black. With a silver lining around his neck armour the only thing to mark his rank. 

 

“Miss Jedi.” He bowed to the young Mon Cal. “I admire you for your actions against the darkness of disease.” He let a soft smile shine over his scarred face. “If you had a moment to demonstrate or teach this power, My Empress wishes to learn.” He pointed to where Raven had emerged, and who was currently talking to an Imperial soldier who had lost his legs at Kuat. 

[Raven Nasra]

Alekseyev smiled at her babbling, bubbling personality as he led her slowly to the Empress, he did not mind the sabre. She was an ally after all, and together they walked to the Empress. He smiled warmly as he bowed to the young woman in black. Letting her take over from there. 

 

Raven returned the bow, and smiled widely, the gesture causing some of the suturing in her face and scalp to scream out in agony but she remained unblinking. Her voice was low and kind as she spoke to the young Mon Calamari. 

 

“Yes, if you are willing, I wish to learn the powers of healing and dissipation I sensed you utilizing not long ago. You see most of my Imperial Knights like sir Alekseyev are more in the war and exorcism department instead of the healing arts.”  Alekseyev perched himself on an empty stool and grinned, while he began to polish the carbon scoring left over on one his thigh plates of armour. He was here if she needed him. 

 

“You see we are allied but outside the Jedi Order. Would you be willing to teach me such arts? That is if it does not distract from your duties.” 

[Raven Nasra]

Raven laughed cheerily, nodding to the apprentice. 

 

“It was from a Sith Lords lightsabre that I received these injuries, that and a great deal of fire and shrapnel.” She looked up at her companion knight. Who grinned sheepishly, as Raven pointed to the cloning tanks that held a copy of her and Alekseyev. “We went to free a thousand prisoners of war and likely die in the process. Instead we freed them and killed a few Sith lords as well. But did not die. Though I lost my Lightsabre in the process.” She looked back at her hands. “It is a small victory out of many losses. But please go ahead and treat me while we talk.” 

 

Alekseyev stopped his polishing, “We do meditate, but the Empress is not one of us as of yet.” 

 

Raven chuckled nervously, “That is right, I was raised as a Sith Lord myself, until I gave it all up and turned away from those dark tendencies with the help of the old Grandmaster Kirlocca. I am afraid it is not all gone however, But I am trying to learn the ways of the Jedi before I am instructed by the Knights. I need a new foundation to build off of you see. And I would enjoy a meditation session with you, even if it is short.” 

 

She let her violet eyes close and she took a deep, fortifying breath. 

[Raven Nasra]

Raven let a bitter smile pass her lips as she let her eyes fall closed once again. 

 

“I was yes, I was bought as a slave for my force sensitivity when I was eleven, placed into the academy on Korriban, then trained for several years until I was sold into the Imperial Military under Emperor Black.” She sighed and pushed back the memories. “It was a very hard life when I was a child. Sith training was not kind to a young girl.” She shivered then regained control, pushing the feelings away and keeping her eyes squeezed shut. Across the room, Alekseyev looked grim, and his grey head shook sadly. 

 

The comm unit at her belt began to blink furiously as Raven kept her eyes closed. Feeling both the vibration of the cylindrical unit on her belt as well as the recently applied bacta salve prickling at her wounded face. The tickling sensation of the bacta moving in the open wound channels almost broke her concentration completely, but she maintained her focus, letting the sounds, feelings, and touch roll off her. Letting the force fill her instead. It was a scary thing that, she had not let the force fill her except in combat in many years, and the feeling was eerie. Untouched parts of her mind began to play their dreary game. Fears popped into her head almost at once, swirling there, hitting every one of her insecurities, but most of all she could feel something on her hands. A profound sense of cold running up her arms, a cool sticky mess that she knew was only in her mind. A sign of a crime done long before, and a death of a Jedi on a backwater world. 

 

She cursed under her breath and began to work at that darkness, the leak that was filling her soul with its stain. She had done this with Kirlocca, and the moment she thought of him, another leak opened. The touch of his hands on hers, the softness of his voice. The shock of his death. She took a stuttering breath and then exhaled. It was an enormous task to keep her head and the sadness at bay and it quickly ovewhelmed her. She cursed again and clenched her fists. 

 

“I feel sad, ruined, and angry all at once.” 

 

She blinked away a tear suddenly embarrassed at the thought of a young Jedi seeing her so vulnerable. Alekseyev had seen her night terrors for years, but that was different. She flexed her legs against the steel decking and looked at her comm unit, then back at the young Calamari. 

 

“I need this training, no matter how many times I fail.” She looked back at the comm unit then back in the Mon Calamari’s kind, bulbous eyes. “But I have to go, I have to serve again. Unless you wish to come with me, we must part ways.” 

 

_____________________________

 

The Rebel Alliance Task force under the command of Empress Raven Nasra signaled @Sgt. Slaughter that they were ready to depart. 

 

 

Quote

 

Taskforce Domination

Capital Group 

Imperial Star Destroyer II - Misericordia

Under command of Admiral Valiston Alekseyev - Imperial Knight

Equipment

Octuple Barbette Turbolasers (8)

Heavy Turbolaser Batteries (50) 

Heavy Turbolaser Cannons (50) 

Light Turbolaser Batteries (10)

AG-2G quad laser cannons (20)

 

Starfighter Screen attached to Misericordia

4 Squadrons of T-65XJ X-wing starfighters (48)

Blue - Captain Maria Andrepov 

Red - Lieutenant Chenan Kailestran

White - Lieutenant Talis Urona

Green - Lieutenant Hai Sadok

2 Squadrons of RZ-1 A-wing interceptors (24)

Lancer - Captain Hailee Darien 

Hussar - Lieutenant Kyle Hasron

 

Bombardier Force attached to Misericordia

4 Squadrons of J-983 ‘Javelin’ Fighter Bombers 

Templar - Captain Andre Asimon

Knight - Lieutenant Brynn Lians

Lion - Lieutenant Seth Mcsann

Strike - Lieutenant Cathryne Ilianovich

1 Squadron of GAT-24r Skipray Blastboats

Tau - Captain Callistra Henerbri

 

 

 

[Raven Nasra]

The Rebel Alliance fleet limped its way home on the brutal edge of complete destruction. Though they had some victory in the fact that they had survived the ordeal, it was doubtful that any officer in the fleet much relished their victory. Raven sat in the antechamber to the bridge, staring blankly at the slowly moving tactical feedback that showed a recreation of the battle. Could she justify every action, every death? Of course there was some justification for any of the losses taken by the Rebel Alliance, a dishonest person could always justify anything. 

 

But Raven could not. She could see the faces, hear the voices breaking and disappearing in the recordings, and so she slowly relived the deaths of thousands as the Rebel Fleet limped back into port.

[Raven Nasra]

Raven glanced down at her datapad which had been sitting silently on her lap until it had given a soft buzz of an incoming message. She reached forward with her black gloved hand and paused the replay of the second battle of Kuat and then pulled the datapad up. The name receipt was from one of the many recruiting officers that were likely combing the depths of Nar Shaddaa for refugees to recruit into the military. It carried a different kind of message and one that caused her dark eyebrows to rise. 

 

Mandalore, the scourge of Coruscant was here? Was this a trap?  

 

She glanced up to her escort who took the datapad in hand and laughed. He was one of the leading Imperial Knight exorcists and though he was an avowed destroyer of the Sith, she did not know his opinion of those without the force who committed evil. 
 

“Les enfants perdus?” 

 

She whispered the words to him in old Caridian as an aide glanced their way. He nodded and handed the datapad back taking a moment to catch her eye. She nodded in response, then picked up her comm link. 

 

___________________

 

It was Recruiting Sergeant Horatio Kine, with his prosthetic leg that found Terra after receiving orders to track her down by the High Command. He carried a bundle of equipment under one arm and with the other free hand, he swept off his cap in a mocking salute. 

 

“Lady Mandalore, the empress bids you welcome and asks if you are prepared to die for a backwater world like Corellia.” He gestured to the men behind him who stood as massive examples of the old imperial ideal. Stormtroopers in amour as black as night.

[Raven Nasra]

Five golden medals lay buried in a sculpture of polished durasteel. Its foundation covered in a thousand flowers, lain by good wishers and grateful citizens of the Rebel Alliance. For as the five Iron Knights had been laid to rest beneath it, a million minds changed from fear to sadness, honour, and love. The Mandalorians of the Neo-Kyr'tsad had redeemed themselves fully. As Raven laid the wreath at its foot she placed her hand beside the inscription which read: 

 

“Here lies the Forlorn Hope. The Iron Knights of Mandalore who died restoring their honour and pleasing their Gods. May the darkness never touch them, for they have been refined into light. 

 

They have partaken in the Akaanati'kar'oya. And none can touch their splendour.” 

 

But now there were another thousand worlds to rescue.

[Raven Nasra]

Raven walked along the Presidium causeway that overlooked the thousands of prefab housing units that had been bolted together for use by the countless refugees heralding from the path of the Sith Lords. The limp from her long captivity was almost imperceptible, but the tiredness in her back and knees told her that she was coming to the end of her abilities. The two silent Imperial Knights walked behind her, their white-grey cloaks covering their armour while she wore the simple Grey and black of an imperial officer. 

 

She had been such an officer for most of her adult life. Captain, Admiral, Senator, Empress, then what? Leader of the rebellion? No heraldic title came with that. Even if they regained the core worlds, and the gems of Kuat and Chandrila, would her new allies let her maintain control? OR would they set her aside for someone safe. Someone not imperial. Someone like the old Galactic Alliance had promoted. A feckless politician who only brought corruption with them? 

 

That was the most likely course. She could cross no Rubicons with the Jedi at her back. They had not supported the Imperial Remnant before, they would not likely support a soft authoritarianism if they returned to power. They would bow before the god of Democracy again, and would yet again willingly place their necks into the guillotine.
 

But that was a long way off. Gods could they even retake Centerpoint without completely exhausting their meagre force? 

 

Her eyes caught the dark red eyes of an old friend who was standing beside a Balilisk war droid. A hero of old and a hero new. Terra. Raven strode quickly forward and embraced the young woman. Kissing her on each of her cheeks before releasing her. 

 

“Thank you for coming my friend.” 

______________________________________

 

In the skies above the duel worlds of Nar Shaddaa and Nal Hutta the new combined fleet began to prepare for its next mission. 

 

Rebel Alliance Fleet Command Flagship |Romanova|

KDY-Imperial II-Class Star Destroyer Misericordia |25/25|

Axial Weapon Upgrade

Pocket Dreadnought Upgrade

 

Rebel Alliance Light Defensive Escort: Suppressing Fire |Alexandra|

Task Force Experience: Green (1xp)

RSD Praetorian-class Frigate Krasnoyarsk |3/3|

RSD Praetorian-class Frigate Voronezh |3/3|

RSD Praetorian-class Frigate Vladivostok |3/3|

RSD Praetorian-class Frigate Sevastopol |3/3|

NRE Senth-class Corvette Volga |2/1|

NRE Senth-class Corvette Nakhodka |2/1|

NRE Senth-class Corvette Voskresensk |2/1|

NRE Senth-class Corvette Kiselyovsk |2/1|

 

Rebel Alliance Precision Strike Carrier Group |Anastasia| 

Taskforce Experience Green (1xp)

KDY Pelta-class Frigate Thessalonica |3/3|

KDY Pelta-class Frigate Adrianople |3/3|

KDY Pelta-class Frigate Strymon |3/3|

RSD Paladin-class Corvette Thrace |2/1|

RSD Paladin-class Corvette Corinth |2/1|

SSC Quasar Fire-class Cruiser-Carrier Constantinople |9/9|

[Raven Nasra]

Raven smiled enthusiastically as she saw the Shistavanen Colonel approaching them. The two imperial knights gave the colonel sharp imperial salutes as he knelt, and Raven reached out a hand to indicate that he should rise. He was a hero of the Alliance after all, and though she was still an Empress, she had no throne and did not feel comfortable with such a man kneeling to her. 

 

“A pleasure to see you Colonel. I hear that you will be joining us on the next assault on the Sith holdouts at Corellia. I have not had the pleasure of properly thanking you for your service to this Rebel Alliance. I have no doubt we will work together on many more occasions. You have my utmost trust.” 

 

She looked at the beskar clad Mandalorian. “And you may have met already but in case you have not, this is Mandalore the Bloody. One time enemy of the Galactic Alliance, and now hero. Her fleet and men will be joining us for the assault on Centerpoint.” 

 

She let her purple eyes glance towards the squadron of waiting shuttle craft. “Shall we?”  For it was time to journey again amongst the stars. 

[Raven Nasra]

A solemn alarm began to ring in the hangers and flight decks of the Nar Shaddaa base. Ships long in drydock fired their engines as couplings were pulled away. Every knight, pilot, or soldier had their orders beamed to their encrypted comm links. 

 

For the combined arms of the Rebel Alliance and Jedi Order would yet again venture into death to find its salvation and the freeing of the galaxy so long under Sith yoke. 

 

Oppression would be lifted by sword and blaster. 

 

For they were going to war. 

((All Jedi, Imperial Knights, Mercenaries. and Rebel Alliance fleet commanders. You have your orders. May the force be with you))

[Raven Nasra]

The joint fleet emerged from hyperspace a debris covered wreck. A sign of the same prelest and pride that had brought the Galactic Alliance, Imperial Remnant, and New republic over the edge of darkness into vague memories. This Rebel Alliance fleet, a mixture of all the past republics and empires still carried their faults. The faults that had caused the Jedi Order to schism during the fading hours of the Galactic Alliance. 

 

Pride

 

Thousands had paid their lives for it, and thousands more justified the actions that had brought them to this ruin. But the once empress and now leader of the rebel alliance did not. She knew that she alone had brought them to this destruction.

[Raven Nasra]

“My lady?” 

 

Raven stood and glanced over her shoulder at the tall Imperial Knight who had interrupted her reverie of looking out the large transparisteel window. From a distance, and the Misericordia was in high orbit, Nar Shaddaa looked beautiful. Especially when outlined by the huge planet of Nal Hutta which formed an emerald disk which the dark and glittering microplanet of Nar Shaddaa lay nestled into like a dark island in a green and tumultuous sea. She could not see the crime from here, not the squalor of a thousand worlds of refugees packed into prefab housing like a can of naboo smelt.

 

“Yes?”

 

The Imperial knight let his charming smile fill his face, he could feel her worry, so he warded it off with a slight shake of his head. There was no invasion yet, no great Sith warfleet, just a glimpse of good news after the defeat at Kuat. A glimmer perhaps, not the full throated joy of a triumph, but he was still glad for it.

 

“Adenna is awake my Lady.” 

 

And the Empress of the old Remnant smiled. 

 

_____________________________________

 

She swept into the medical ward alongside her two imperial knights, their white armour contrasting with her own crisp black uniform. She did not stop to check if the wounded Jedi was sleeping but merely opened the curtain and stepped through. She placed her gloved hand on the edge of the bed and pressed down. 

 

“Miss Alluyen?”

[Raven Nasra]

 

Raven let her thin shoulders rise into a shrug, not a shrug of annoyance, just acknowledgement, they had both been through so much. And from the state of the galaxy they would be going through so much more in due course. The Jedi had fallen during a mission to a sith world, she had faced the stiff and surprising resistance of that banking planet and had narrowly escaped with her life. At least she had not been captured. She had not faced the knives of the sith inquisition. 

 

Raven nodded her head and sat on the edge of the bed, near the Jedi’s feet. “I am well,  the wounds have healed significantly thanks to your help and the help of the Jedi Healers.” She looked at the two imperial knights who nodded and walked away, leaving her alone with Adenna. 

 

“What can I do to help you recover?” 

 

[Raven Nasra]

Raven let a smile drift across her face, departing into a thin line of sadness before the smile was able to settle. Perhaps this war would curse the young throneless empress with frown lines, it had already cursed her with long sleepless nights that had left her far beyond tired. The war had cost them all very dearly. She let the smile come back, perhaps for its therapeutic effect on her face, or perhaps because there was a glimmer of hope. 

 

“The Jedi are doing well, they have continued operations under Master Draygo and I believe your old apprentice is even on the council, the war is a different story.” The frown came back, deeper than before. “We have continued the war and it is fairlty endless. Corellia was cleansed of the Sith Lords and still is held as a bastion in the Core. We attempted another counter attack at Kuat and were repulsed, and there is still another battle raging over Fondor. Other than that we are trying to house the refugees that keep flying to our system.” 

 

She sighed.

 

“Sometimes I wonder if we are fighting a loosing war. We deserve it for ignoring their rise to power, the corruption in the senate. But perhaps there is honour in a long defeat?” 

[Raven Nasra]

Lieutenant Vasily Chernigov nodded his balding grey head to the large droid. He had seen it all, in thirty years of service, first under the old Imperial Order, then the Imperial Remnant, now under the fledgling Rebel Alliance. He had seen recruits of every shape and size, alien or human, even the rare fully sentient droid had signed up for service. And this appeared to be one of these, and a quick glance told him that there was no restraining bolt, and the Lieutenant would not ask about one. The Rebel Alliance needed every body, and this one looked extremely capable. He held out a signatory datapad. 

 

“Please sign for your training equipment. You will be assigned to the thirty third light infantry if that is suitable. They are Caridian refugees, so I think you may just fit right in. You will find a E-22 blaster rifle in a locker, we use issued weapons here for ease of logistics. So any inbuilt weaponry you may have will need to be modified to use E32 blaster cartridges and Spin Sealed Tibanna. Any questions before we begin? Your commanding officer is named Zavalishin. He is waiting in the training room through the next two doors.” 

[Raven Nasra]

The Jedi was right, as she had been for the majority of her career.  She had been one of the few ‘Militaristic’ Jedi of the Old Guard. Or at least that was how the Imperial Knights classified the Jedi that had risen to prominence under Darex Trevalian and Onderin Starlisk. How many of them still remained? And how many rotted under the Pillars of Truth in the ruins of triple zero? How many died in the charnel house that was the fall of the Galactic Alliance? Raven could not answer that, though the answer itself was tragic. The Jedi order had thrived under the Galactic Alliance, become content, and how did the Imperial Knights put it? Filled with Prelest? Prelest or not, they had died in droves, and now only a few dozen remained of a once thriving order. Relics of their own time. 

 

“Your words are truth Adenna. If only I had known you in the time of the Remnant, I think we could have prevented much of this. Vinalian?” 

 

She called to the tall Miralukan Knight who stood by the door who brought the Jedi a bundle of clothes and equipment. When the clothes had been passed over, Raven stood and smiled. 

 

“Then let us get you up and dressed. I have no access to the Jedi armouries, but my people carry on many of the old traditions, a tunic at least is there, as well as a issued lightsaber from our armoury. Should you need one before you return to your order.”

[Raven Nasra]

 

Raven nodded, her amethyst eyes following the Jedi as she spoke, her face set into an impassive if concerned look. The woman spoke truth, and it was the truth that her advisors had been whispering in her ear for the better part of the last year. It was an inelegant solution, it was against every bit of her training. Against every one of her instincts. The imperial war machine would be dead, its officer corp, its pride reduced to nothing more than terrorists. 

 

But that had won a war before, long before any of them had been alive. Could she, and by extension, her admirals, shed every bit of their being and take on that new mantle? But perhaps her objections were not in doctrine but in mentality. It would devastate the old officer corps to be told to fight like their old enemies. But there was no other way to win. Not at this point. 

 

“I accept your offer Adenna, and how can we help you achieve it?” 

[Raven Nasra]

Raven let her gaze flicker up to the sprawling shipyards that covered much of the starscape of Nar Shaddaa’s north pole. It had taken trillions of credits to establish a yard capable of making cruisers. Trillions more to establish procurement, routes, designers, ores, even bloody paint. All had taken so long to establish, and now it would soon be the time to defend it as a last stand, or pack and live to fight another day. But the refugees? How could they abandon them? They couldn’t leave a billion innocents to the fate they had so harrowingly escaped. But the Jedi spoke truth. 

 

“We will begin to disperse civilians and strategic fleet resources. But it will take very many months to move the refugees. Perhaps if we keep the Sith busy they will not attack directly.” 

 

She pondered and looked to her Imperial knights. 

 

“We have three hundred knights still in service, several hundred in training.” His voice was considering, then he spoke again. “They will serve their empress.” 

 

Raven nodded. “Kyrie will also serve, but in time. She is in meditation, cleansing her soul for the next great fight.”

 

She put her hand on the railing, the slight whirring of the mechanical arm smothered by the distant sounds of a busy and active city. A city yet untouched by the war. 

 

“I was going to dispatch some infiltrators to Mon Calamari to see if liberation is possible. The planet is on the far outer rim, far outside the Sith’s official sphere of influence. With multiple Sith Lords last reported on site. Would that mission entice you?” 

 

[Raven Nasra]

Little chimes and alarms sprang to life around the rebel base and shipyards. It was go time for space command and the other joint operations groups that made up the Rebel Alliance High Command. Riding the success from Fondor, they were about to make their first official push into Recently Sith Occupied Territory. Kuat had been seized at the very beginning of the war, so they had little trouble imagining that would be a hard fought battle. Mon Calamari however… The citizens wanted their freedom, so the Rebel Alliance would answer. 

 

All Jedi Knights, Imperial Knights, Rebel Officers, Pilots, and Infiltrators had their orders.

 

They Would be meeting on Kessel or Bothawui

[Raven Nasra]

The rebel alliance fleet began to move, ships long at the dockyard began to cut their tow lines, and the heart of any drydock, the tug corvettes, began to push and align the large capital ships into some semblance of order as the combined taskforces began to align out of the gravity well. 

 

Perhaps this would be the final time the great fleet sallied forth from its hiding place. Only the force could tell. 

 

They were bound for Kessel.

 

((HC-42 and Emma post on Kessel))

[Raven Nasra]

A long series of flash communications came streaming into the wide sensor dishes that sat in orbit above Nar Shaddaa and Nal Hutta. They were decrypted and sent with priority to officers all over the net. Mobilization orders to reserve fleet elements and special forces units on RR rotation. One message came in for the Moffs council, ordering mobilization of the shipping fleets for use in refugee movement. 

 

Another comm came for Beck, loyal servant of the Imperial Remnant. He was to mobilize to assist in the restoration of Mon Calamari, then prepare for action in the deep core. The Rebel Alliance would not stop its momentum, especially as innocent worlds like Naboo fell to the Sith Empire. 

[Raven Nasra]

Nar Shaddaa Space Command hailed the Naboo starship piloted by the Jedi Apprentice Vox and his tribe. 

 

“Sir, you have been given landing clearance to reserve bay three on the Misericordia. The Empress wishes to meet you and the Queen of the Naboo. Please make your way there as soon as possible.”

 

The hailing frequency died away. And hailed Jackson and the surviving pilots of Naboo Gold Squadron. 

 

“Knight Jackson, you are also bidden to the Misericordia. Thank you.”

 

For even though Naboo had fallen, the Empress would congratulate those that had fought so well.

[Raven Nasra]

The empress stood like a statue in her dark uniform of black and grey. Her eyes reflecting the bright lights and dark shadows of the landing bay in various shades of deep purple. A royal purple, that tyrian purple of the ancient galaxy. She stood in the midst of three guardsmen who dwarfed her height, towering over their empress, as terrifying as Varangians and gentle as the slopes of Naboo. They were Imperial Knights, the fist of the old Remnant. A holdover from the schism and ruin that had befallen the Jedi order little more than five years before. Their faces, much like their empress’s, carried the scars of the long war. Though her’s were hidden under her long gloves and dark crown. 

 

The crown was of darkened durasteel, a heavy and yet elegant piece. Forged in the fires of dying Carida. When the old IMperial Worlds rose in rebellion against the ill fated Galactic Alliance as the Sith swept in ruinous abandon over the outer rim. Millions had died in those fires. As Sith warships dropped death from the sky in the form of brilliant green turbolasers. They had sworn their vengeance then, and the Imperials of Carida, now sequestered on the small world of Nar Shaddaa, would have their long victory. They had seen a great alliance fall, they had seen worlds cracked and ruined, they had seen Jedi Knights butchered in the streets of Iziz while the holocameras ate it up like mid afternoon dessert. 

 

The Old Empire, that of Deton and Dagon was alive and well, waiting for its time of glory. When they could hunt the Sith Lords into bitter extinction and finally have the peace that had been promised at the end of the last civil war. But this old empire flew the red phoenix of the Rebel Alliance. Not a deception, but a compromise to those that had fled to Nar Shaddaa when Coruscant fell. There would be no more republic with its inbuilt weaknesses of democracy, that was the promise of the crown of steel. But Nar Shaddaa was an example of the egalitarian nature of the new Rebel Alliance, work for all, jobs, and care. But no democracy. At least not yet. 

 

The Empress inclined her head in a formal recognition of the Alliance Militia led by Vox and the Jedi Knight who was still in his flight fatigues. She and the Queen embraced, the formal embrace of royalty. Kissing each other on the cheek before the Queen took her place at her side. 

 

“Jedi Apprentice Vox and Jedi Knight Jackson.” The Leader of the Rebel Alliance said. Her voice soft but powerful, carrying easily to where both of them stood. 

 

“You have done well, you deserve the recognition of the Rebel Alliance. And though we do not have much to offer here on the flagship, I can offer this.” 

 

One of the Imperial Knights, a man with a long grey beard and the face of a warrior strode forward to first Vox and then jackson. On each he pinned the Medal of Valor. The ribbon a dark red that contrasted wonderfully with the shining silver of the medal. 

 

“You have the thanks of the Rebel Alliance. Vox for rescuing the Queen of the Naboo, and Jackson for the freeing of the Naboo Starfighter wing. You have helped us at much personal cost, for which we are eternally grateful. Now get some rest if you can, there are rooms prepared for you.” 

 

She turned to go, but then looked back at Vox. 

 

"And Vox, I have heard from our advanced scouts that your Master did survive." She left off the 'Just Barely' for the apprentice would likely have already felt the extent of the wounds of his master. 

[Raven Nasra]

The empress’s eyebrows raised a millimeter in surprise at the request. 

 

“From a Logistics standpoint I would encourage you to use blasters. While this is a diverse group of Rebels I cannot promise you will have access to whatever exotic weaponry you are used to, and Logistics cannot hope to provide you replenishment for the weapons on long deployment.” 

 

The message in that was clear. Even if was said in the least harsh way she could think of. The weapons of the outer rim, especially slug throwers and scatterguns, were inadequate for a long war. And she could not afford to have independent operators in a warzone.
 

She had long ago been a part of the Logistics division in Deton’s Empire, before the battle of the last death star, when even young and inexperienced soldiers like her had been thrown into the meat grinder. 

 

“Your armour is another story, you may have access to the workshops in the base as well as here on the Misericordia. We have access to most durasteel and plastoid variants, as well as the alchemical resources to make advanced composites. Does that serve?” 

[Raven Nasra]

“My lady…” 

 

The blind inquisitor made a steep bow before Raven, who returned the bow with a polite nod of her head. The Imperial Remnant’s Empress stood and adjusted her uniform which was a dark black admiral’s uniform. THe left breast of which was covered in the thin lines of campaign badges, dating back to before the galactic alliance. The battle of Coruscant, the battle of the spire, The Sith Trinity’s raid at Gala, Csilla, then the last Death Star. Symbols of a long and bitter career. The marks of a long and dreadful defeat. A mark of the work that had been put in to build this Rebel Alliance. A place where long enemies had become friends. 

 

But there was honour written in the long lines of ribbons, the honour of an Idea. An Empire of conscience. An egalitarian autocracy. A place of peace for a galaxy that had seen nothing of it in a decade. She adjusted the black glove that fit over her prosthetic arm, a gift from her old master during the reign of the Sith Lords. A gift for which she had paid dearly. 

 

“Please show her in.” 

 

The Imperial knight bowed again and opened the sliding door. And Raven curtsied in the imperial fashion before extending her hand in greeting. The woman was wearing Knight armour which gave made Raven’s eyebrows raise in confusion. 

 

“Welcome Grandmaster, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

[Raven Nasra]

There was a bitterness there that Raven could feel deep within herself. They were both survivors of the long galactic war of Raven’s childhood, and each carried the weight of that war. The grandmaster through her hardset stern expression and gentle lines of age. Raven through her own wounds. A blaster burn in the stomach from Coruscant, a long thin line in her scalp from Piccolo’s vibrosword over the Death Star. But they both carried scars from the most recent wars. The slight twitching in Raven’s biological hand betrayed the intense nerve damage from Sith and Black Sun interrogation. An interrogation the Jedi had fought to rescue her from. 

 

Upon reflection. They had more in common than Raven had originally thought. Draygo and Kirlocca were the last remaining Jedi from the era of Starlisk, Durron, and Ara-Lai. While Raven and her Moffs were the last Imperials from the days of Dark, Dagon, and Phillep. A people who could never have imagined that they would be walking arm in arm into a brighter future. Or at least that was the great hope of this Rebel Alliance. So in that reflection she smiled. A smile that very quickly died at the grandmaster’s news. 

 

“It was only a matter of time.” 

 

They had operated in the open for years out of this backwater world which they had brutally freed from slavers. And such a thing could only escape the Dark Lord’s eye for so long. 

 

“I trust your wisdom Grandmaster. You have my fleet and the resources that the imperial side of the Alliance can muster. We will begin the evacuation of the central government and the schools immediately. Followed by the refugees.”

 

It would have to be orderly, otherwise the Sith would know of their panic and exploit it.

 

“Do we have worlds that can take refugees?” There was one, the Bastion, that had been unfound by the Sith in the midst of old Remnant space. “And if you can tell me of these opportunities that you foresee, I am sure my Knights would be most interested.”

[Raven Nasra]

Raven shook her head, a single strand of dark hair coming undone from her braid with the gesture. Which she furtively tucked back behind her ear before tapping one of the medals on her chest. It was made of a dark metal, three red lines running through the eight pointed star. A battle mark, and one of the most shameful moments of her short career as a Sith apprentice. 

 

“Not Gala.” 

 

Her eyes told the story more than her words. The last act as an apprentice to a jealous master. The defeat and murder of a Jedi Knight. A crime which she had been pardoned for in the aftermath of the Last Death Star battle. As had many young surviving imperial officers in the ranks of Deton’s fallen empire. But the fight still haunted her, a thing unforgiven, and something she would take to her grave. Much like her cybernetic arm. A reason to never touch the living force again. 

 

“My lady…Grandmaster” She said, her voice taking the dark tone of emotion. “We cannot gamble with lives. The Red and Black will fall. The spaceworks as well. But we cannot pretend that falling starships will not affect the cityscape. Should they bring the Black Scarab into orbit and we have the luck and force to destroy it?” 

 

Such a thing could break the moon in half. And kill the millions of inhabitants before they even got a chance to see an explosion. 

 

“I suggest we keep the fighting over Nal Hutta, let the debris fall to that rotten and uninhabited world. Not in orbit of Nar Shaddaa. We should strike where they are weakest, but please let us spare the moon. Alive in the captivity of the enemy is better than death. At least for the innocents moonside."