Nar Shaddaa - Rebel Alliance Headquarters

[Nikolai Kolchak]

Making his way into the seedy bar outside the Imperial Remnant’s area of control,  the Admiral and his entourage of troopers cam through the front door without fanfare or processional. Four white-clad stormtroopers proclaimed it loud enough. This was a man of the Empire, old school, seasoned, hardened and commanding. He was no fledgling rebel or a terrorist looking for a cause. This man was a professional. He commanded men of power, expected perfection, and would settle for nothing less. Imperial Intelligence at it’s finest.

 

Taking in the cantina with his one good eye and one cybernetic eye, Nikolai Kolchak moved forward. This was the right place. The presence of the Hapan Admiral confirmed it. He nodded a greeting to the bar staff as he made his way towards the area cleared and cleaned for them. Passing by Pax Ari, he spoke in hushed tones. His tone, even barely above a whisper, carried an air of command; his thick ((Russian)) accent adding to the authority. “Vine please. Green if you have it.” He asked as he moved, finding a seat at an open table. 

 

The Admiral’s escort took up their positions about the edge, a stark reminder that the common drinker was not welcome where the admiralty would gather. He was here on a matter of business as it were. Sometimes, he knew, the best ideas, the most tactically brilliant strategies, did not come from war rooms or war colleges, but from a melding of the minds in unofficial venues.

 

Still, one had to be careful for spies, even here on a rebel stronghold of a world. Breaking out scramblers, sensor sweeps, and hand-held communications jammers, the troopers began a careful scan of the area. The staff had been vetted long before any Imperial set foot in the cantina even if Kolchak had not done much more than glance at the file before he set out. He had people for that, people he trusted with his life.

 

One trooper followed Pax at a distance, keeping an eye to make sure nothing hinky took place. These men were seasoned soldiers, trained protectors, and cross-trained intelligence operatives.

[Nikolai Kolchak]

Kolchak eyed the bottle as he took his seat. “An excellent year,” he nodded in approval. “My thanks.”

 

Outside the perimeter, Kolchak’s security force noted the arrival of the odiferous robed rodent as it made it’s way towards. KI-222. Flicking to internal comms, KI-222 spoke across their encrypted security channel, “Asset 37-delta has arrived; earlier than expected. Make a note to ensure he has not hacked any secure dataports.”  He then turned to face the approaching Jawa, his weapon held at the low-ready. “Your droid will need to be deactivated and turned over for inspection. Standard Imperial Security Protocol 3-7-4-9-B.” he spoke officially before lowering his voice significantly and adding, “Speaking on matters of intelligence so freely is frowned upon and may affect the bottom line.”

 

Back at his table, Kolchak nodded as he heard TK-222’s message relayed within his reinforced synth-skull. Turning his attention back to The Fish Guy. “What makes you tick Master Ari? Credits? Loyalty? A desire to leave the galaxy better than you found it?” he queried as he fished credit chits from his pocket to pay for the bottle and then some. Along with it, he held a datachip between his pointer and index finger. Kolchak’s cybernetic eye whirred and buzzed as he assessed the barkeep’s physiological responses, letting the silence hang in the air before adding slowly; “Take this chip to the Jawa at the bar. If you are interested in making some credits and a difference, go with him.”

 

Closer to the bar, KI-301 swapped his way along the bar, his commanding white presence an uncomfortable one at best, memories of storm trooper atrocities all too fresh for many. It did not take long to ensure the bar itself was clear of patrons, save for the buzzing little droid that had accompanied the Jawa and the Twi’lek barkeep. “I can disable the droid.” He voices across the secure comm, flipping his carbine to ion pulse.

 

”Perhaps it is time to get a drink at the bar if you are interested in saving credits,” KI-222 spoke to the Jawa, nodding towards his comrade eying the small droid.

 

The chip, when inserted into a datapad or similar device would call up a secure connection with an option to proceed by entering the number of operatives taking part in the operation. Once input and secured by facial or palm scan, data would began to play across the screen.

 

PLANETARY LOCATION: AARIS III

INHABITANTS: PRIMITIVE

TERRAIN: JUNGLES, MOUNTAINS, SEAS

GALACTIC AFFILIATION: NON-AFFILIATED. NO VIABLE ALLIES OR RESOURCES. NO STRATEGIC VALUE.

OPERATIVE BASE: SMUGGLERS COMPOUND, COMMANDER JARGO 

- COMMUNICATIVE UPDATES: 6 (MISSING AND OVERDUE)

- STATUS REPORT: OVERDUE

 

YOUR MISSION: LOCATE COMMANDER JARGO, SECURE STATUS REPORTS, RESUME COMMUNICATIONS. ALL ADDED EXPENSES REIMBURSED. UTILIZE EMERGENCY COMMUNICATIONS SUITE 12 FOR ANY UNEXPECTED CIRCUMSTANCES OR REQUESTS. ALLOW 36 HOURS FOR RESPONSE VIA UNOFFICIAL CHANNELS. PAYMENT WILL BE DEPOSITED IN THE USUAL

MANNER: 1/4 NOW. REMAINDER UPON COMPLETION ALONGSIDE REIMBURSEMENTS.
MISSION STATUS: ¡URGENT!

 

IF YOU AGREE, DEPART IMMEDIATELY UTILIZING THE BACK DOOR.

 

Once played, the chip would begin to smoke, destroying the message.

Edited August 1, 2021 by Nikolai Kolchak

[Nikolai Kolchak]

Having successfully directed the pacification and liberation of Outer Heaven, Vice Admiral Nikolai Kolchak had directed his attentions to Mon Cal before being summoned to Nar Shaddaa. The glistening brand new hulls of a fleet of Mon Cal built warships pierced the twinkling darkness of space, reflecting the stars in their glistening chromium coated hulls.

 

Aboard the bridge of the armor-laden Assault Lance, The Wailing Whaladon, Kolchak surveyed the cityscape below. It had not been that long ago that the strongest Imperial asset on the planet had been his very own shadowy cabal of Naval Intelligence operatives. Now, they were a stark minority, lurking amongst the undercurrent of the world, silently maintaining law and order, protecting the fleet and by it, freedom and dignity the galaxy over.  
 

Quickly, the cybernetically enhanced commander disembarked and made his way to the meeting below.

 

He arrived, with his small contingent of white clad Imperial commandos just as the Empress was speaking, slipping into the back of the room as quietly as they may. Stoicly he listened as the heads of state and bureaucrats stated their thoughts and opinions. Democracy had it’s place, but to maintain such a thing required a razor-edged balance; one that, so far, a bloated galaxy like theirs was unable to maintain on a galactic scale without falling to dark desires and personal passions. What he had seen in the shadows of his career was that laziness, sloth and complacency allowed the current dark threat to fester and grow again into the monster that now threatened them all.    
 

When it came his turn to speak, the Vice Admiral of the Remnant’s naval forces and overseer of Naval Intelligence, a man whose career had been built upon his work as a pirate hunter and beyond the frontline combatant of the very evils these leaders now sought to oppose, stepped forward. Behind him stood his faceless contingent, a protective detail that belayed years of terror to evil doers and compliance to the will of the government’s leadership against chaos and disorder. “Highness,” he bowed slightly to the Empress. “The scourge on Outer Heaven haz fallen. Even now ze vorld is being rebuilt into ze visionz ov zis council. Freedom and prosperity shall reign. Ze forces under my command, naval and intelligence, stand ready to continue ze fight against oppression and villainy.” He paused as his mind and mechanized enhancements considered ending what he was saying there. For a moment, he stood silent before deciding to continue. “But zen, in a galaxy as large as ours, zhere vill always be zhese zhreats, internal and out.” He shot a knowing  glance to the Queen-in-exile. “Ve must constantly vatch and strike vithout hesitation at any who vould zhreaten our people. Even now, ze ahipyardz ov Mon Cala are churning forth veapons by vhich to preserve ze peace ov ze stars. Zhey stand ready to zerve.”

 

As soon as he was done, Nikolai, locked eyes with the Empress, nodded and stepped back.
__________________________________

 

INTERDICTION CADRE: Interdiction Field

-SFS Immobilizer 418-class Heavy Cruiser Constantine |9/9| (1xp)

-MC30-class frigate Queen Memara |3/3| (1xp)

-DP20 Corvette Surprise |2/1| (1xp)

-DP20 Corvette Crescelle |2/1| (1xp)

-DP20 Corvette Hawkbat |2/1| (1xp)

-DP20 Corvette Audacity |2/1| (1xp)

 

-MC90 Star Cruiser The Wailing Whaladon 25/25

Assault Lance [Kinetic Ram] Juggernaut

 

-MC80a Star Cruiser Tessek’s Revenge 25/25

Search and Destroy Carrier Ghost Hunters

[Nikolai Kolchak]

Having been addressed directly by the Empress, Kolchak nodded, glancing about with both his good eye and his cybernetic one, before continuing. He took in the room, seeing it for what it was, secrets and stances laid bare beneath flowery words and grandeur. Yet, the battle-scarred intelligence officer knew his place; so when he spoke, it was to respond to that which he was asked. 
 

“Ze people of Mon Cal velcome ze liberation of vorld from ze Sith. Ze monsters ov pretender empire sought to crush spirits; but zhey failed. Even now, zheir monarchy has been restored and vorks alongside men and women ov true Imperial zhrone to ensure freedom for all. Zhey have already dispatch varships to zis vorld to bolster cause of freedom and preserve order against ze tide of Sith foolishness.”

 

Turning to look at the rest of the room, Kolchak tucked a fist into his open right palm in the small of his back. “Outer Heaven iz anozher matter. Such lawless villiany, debauchery, and open disregard for ze greater good has left deep deep furrows in vorld and people. Ze unrepentant are being purged. Zhose who vish new start, a new life, are being taken to allied vorlds of order. Zhose who wish to remain do so vith full support ov Naval Intelligence; knowing zhey are watched and zafe. Ze station is being rebuilt in ze image of Imperial unity, a bastion of hope, upon ze outer rings of heaven itself.” 
 

With that, Kolchak resigned himself to his place. His thoughts on the rebellion, silent for the time, allowing others with more political sway to speak. He had worked alongside many rebels, zealots and anarchists. He did not doubt the cause of their hearts to be true; but he knew that for many, fighting the established government was an ingrained way of life. One that would be hard, if not impossible, to give up. They would have their place as agents of order, wether they knew it or not. They would keep the peace while maintaining an ideology of their own absolute freedom, protecting the Empire and being silently protected by it.

 

As for the Jedi, like the Knights of the Empire, they were an eclectic group. He knew some would welcome working alongside the Empire with open arms; others would be wary of any who differed from their ideological dogma; no more or less dangerous than the Sith who they knew sought to extinguish. So when the conversation turned to the Jedi, he raised an eyebrow to add in brief, “Jedi and Sith, two sides of same coin. Vork together, but to trust zhem to govern invites ruin.”

[Nikolai Kolchak]

Kolchak returned a brief salute to Admiral Beck as he took his leave. He secretly wished he had reason to depart as well, his report complete. He did not; and his presence in this meeting had not been dismissed, signaling he was still desired on some level.

 

He knew of the Jedi. He had met many. The Jedi, the Sith, the Knights of the Empress, they all clung to an unchecked ideology beyond that of the rule of law, of equality and justice for all.

‘At least the Knights could be reigned.’ he mused to himself silently.

 

There were good ones amongst the ranks of the orders. He knew that. He knew some of them. He had also played witness to those powers left unchecked. Sorcery and wizardry had no place in a true government. His thin lips hardened in a straight line as he listened.

 

“Ze Jedi,” he added slowly, his bio-mechanized mind whirling as he chose his words carefully, “allowed Sith to destroy Mon Cal.” His words hung heavy in the air as he paused, his words sinking in. He had seen firsthand the destruction brought by the Krath Lords of Mon Cal; had reviewed reports of the downfall of the world, of the crimes of Jedi and Sith alike.“Zhey mounted no defense; fleeing vonce zhey brought ruin to vorld, inviting suffering in zheir shadow of cowardice to subjugate and kill.”

 

“It vas men and vomen, not magicks, zhat stood in ze breach. Steel and courage and law, order, discipline.”

A thick hand played across his forehead as he wiped at the invisible perspiration that he felt beginning to congregate in his knit brows. “Vhilst many may be good intentioned, unchecked power, unbeholden to ze laws of all, vill corrupt even greatest of men.” He stopped. His his hand clenched behind his back at the thought that such beings were allowed to live beyond the rules that controlled the lives of ordinary men and women. His words might not be welcome, he knew that; but he had seen the damage brought by unchecked force users. Their magics a tipping point to the fragile balances of power they touched the galaxy over, caring not what vacuum they left in their wake.
 

The Sith and Jedi, sworn mortal enemies for time eternal, destroyed lives in their quests to wipe the other from memory. Neither one ever bested the other. The only forgotten were the collateral casualties of their never ending war. All that followed in their wake was pain and suffering veiled by the rightness each side professed. “Ze dead of Coruzant,”

 

“Mon Cal,” 

 

“Kuat,”

 

“Lehon,”

 

he ticked off several recent memories before continuing, “and countless more cannot testify to zheir goodness. Zheir bodies not even known to any but zheir gods. Vhat zhose souls would swear to if zhey could vould be betrayal. Bettayal vhen ze Jedi’s use of zhem had run course. Betrayal by Jedi and Sith alike. Abandoned in zheir hour of need for revenge and bauble.” Kolchak’s voice almost cracked as he spoke, his mechanized mind calling up a swirl of images from countless after action and intelligence reports of battles and actions the galaxy over. So many the same. The Jedi or the Sith had been there, inviting the other to ruin; the legions of regular beings sacrificed in the trenches and void. 

Composing himself he concluded, “Let zhem vorship, but let zhem do so under our laws and ze protections of zis Empire, beholden to ze laws of men. Zheir goodness vill shine through. Zheir greed contained by ze morality and steel of zhis government.” Nikolai stopped there, his voice heavy with conviction.
 

He knew what he was saying. He had seen miraculous good done with the powers of the force. He had seen great evils as well. Jedi and Sith, some who seemed to change mantles as often as he changed his uniform possessed the seeds of greatness. He had friends and associates amongst the Jedi. He had worked alongside agents of the Sith during his time in the Outer Rim. Just as each in this room knew if the Empress fell to evil, they would stand against her in their own way, so too he believed they must stand against the wiles of the force and it’s magicians.

[Nikolai Kolchak]

On 12/29/2021 at 9:39 AM, Tilt07 said:

 

Tilt had his weapons holstered and the group was mindful of engineers and repairmen running about to tend to different ships. Tilt saw the first individual who was in an Imperial Officer uniform and walked up to him, "Excuse me, but we were directed by a combat group for this Galactic Alliance to come to Nar Shaddaa. Know anything about signing up for it?"

The black clad Major, stopped mid-step, turning to inspect who was addressing him. His thin-lipped, chin-thrusted, clean shaven face carried an aura of authority that seemed to radiate beyond his Major rank insignia. As a member of the Imperial Stormtrooper Corps, he was one of the elite, the best, and he knew it. A single eyebrow raise was the inly response from the man as he took in the antiquated commando array. “A combat group?” he questioned, his tone conveying doubt over the entire story. Clearly, arrayed as such, these were more backwater militiamen come to fight for a grand cause. ‘Probably salvaged the armor. Maybe never even seen combat’ he thought as he took in group. Still . . . not everyone could be of his own level, that of the galaxy’s most elite fighting force; these local country bumpkins might still serve a useful purpose. “What, is that?” the Major enquired eying the coffin that was being toted along with the Commandos, shrugging his thinly pronounced chin in it’s general direction.

 

He did not wait for a response before sighing. It was one of those sighs that sounded like it could have been an eye roll. He really did not have time for this; but who was he to pass up an opportunity? “Follow me.” He turned and waived the men after him as he made his way to an Imperial shuttle whose loading ramp was open. Ducking inside, the Major found a chair and table. Seating himself at it, he produced a holopad and stylus. Holding it at the ready he looked at Tilt. “Name, galactic standard date and planet of birth, most recent  prior employer, prior experiences that may be of use to the Imperial Navy, and” he paused looking up from the list he was ticking off the screen, “where did you acquire your current load out ?” 

[Nikolai Kolchak]

The ranked Stormtrooper listened, nodding occasionally as he glanced to his holopad. An “I see,” or a “hmm” were all the response he gave as the men explained themselves and removed their  helmets.

 

”Both Kamino and Coruscant have been destroyed by the Sith. Trillions of lives lost. Complete devastation.” He added as the men finished, clacking his screen several times scrolling through several screens of required information makibg notes where needed and logging the men’s antiquated callsigns to see if any information was available on a variety of Imperial, Stormtrooper, Naval and Intelligence databases. “If you are who you say you are,” he raised a questioning eyebrow towards them, “we may have more use for you than the . . . more regular recruits the Rebellion seems to brings in.”

 

”The Grand Army of the Republic is long gone,” he explained emotionlessly as his pd dinged finding confirming information on the men’s IDs; caring not what manner of emotional response this might elicit from the clones. “Replaced by the might of the true Empire in exile. The Stormtrooper Corps, the true descendant of the most elite troops of that era. We might be able to find you someplace within our ranks, if you check out and your skills are not too rusty….” The Major’s eyes scanned a readout on his holopad as he paused. Looking up, “Would you boys be interested in that?”

 

”We can, of course, arrange for your friend to be returned to the Jedi contingent planetside.”

 

“I am not seeing any official after action report on this business on Ryloth. Why don’t you fill me in.”

[Nikolai Kolchak]

The Major eyed the men as their emotions cracked through. Setting down the holopad, he reclined in his chair slightly to regard the troopers. “The Imperial Navy may have use for you yet gentlemen. Take your ship to Docking Bay 37, tell Engineer Banks that Major Wiems sent it for retrofitting and Special Detailing. She’ll know what to do. Then escort your fallen friend to the Jedi and get aboard a shuttle to the Immobilizer Class Constantine. Report to the XO for assignment under Fleet Admiral Kolchak, Naval Intelligence.”

 

Standing, Major Wiems tucked the holpad beneath his arm and offered a brisk salute to the men. “Gentlemen, welcome to the Navy. May your Service be an honor to your homes, kin, and Empress.” He then gestured with one sweeping arm, indicating the men should disembark before him. Once they were off, he would close the ramp and the craft would begin prepping for take off, as the pilot ducked aboard.

 

_________________________
 

DOCKING BAY 37: IMPERIAL REPAIR YARD

Engineering Sergeant Killianne Banks slid out from the bowels of the TIE bomber she had been waist deep in. Wiping the back of her hand across her sweat covered brow, the Zavrak left a streak of inky grease in it’s path. “Tell you what R3,” she chirped pleasantly, albeit annoyingly, as a nearby dinged, battered, and equally dirty astromech droid expertly wielding a welder along a large gash in the cockpit, “Them flyboys. Trying to bypass the safety mechs to launch spiced wine to your buddy’s party is NOT approved use for such a delicate system.”

 

Banks shook her head and jumped to the ground, bending over to grab a fallen hydrospanner. She was careful to make sure her elongated horns did. It scrape against the ship; wether that was more for her or the ship’s wellbeing  was questionable as both were looking relatively pristine given their lots in life

 

—————————————————-

 

INTERDICTION CADRE: Interdiction Field

-SFS Immobilizer 418-class Heavy Cruiser Constantine |9/9| (1xp)

[Nikolai Kolchak]

A smile crept across the dirty face of the engineering sergeant as one of the group, clapped the back of another’s head to stop what was clearly going to be an inappropriate remark.
 

“Aye, I’m Sergeant Banks,” she paused to look over the group, winking at Riggs, before turning her eyes to the ship. She let out a low whistle, “Navy must be hard up sending out boys in last year’s dress blues and a ship, like, well,” she gestured vaguely to the ship in a ‘just look at that thing’ sort of way before resting her right hand her extended right hip twirling her hydrospanner in the other hand. “But I suppose,” she walked between the troopers and approached the ship. “It ain’t the size, it’s how you use the equipment god gave ya.” She tapped Riggs visor playfully as she spoke and passed him. “Or in this case the Empress.” A smile and a wink followed as she approached the ship and began to walk around it, eyeballing it from several directions.

 

The R3 droid clanked once as it rolled over a loose hose on the deck, circling around the troopers, giving them a berth wide enough to be noticed. It too approached the ship and began to scan it.

 

Without asking, the Zabrak hoisted a panel and stuck her head inside the tangle of wires. Her muffled voice echoed dully from within, “Where’d you boys find this rig? Ain’t seen so much space dust since that time I took me a batch of callees to the old clones home. Boy those old farts hadn’t seen action in a while. The dust in those I tell you.” She pulled her head out of the ship to look over at the clones, “You boys say Weims wanted me to give ya’ll special detailing?” She asked skeptically, with a glitter of snarky playfulness in her eye. She had caught the reprimand and was enjoying poking fun. “Might take a day or two to find the right part . . ners, for such a massive undertaking ya know.”

 

On the other side of the ship with an excited electronic whistled whoop, R3’s plasma torch flared to life as he moved in towards some of the more exposed sensitive electronic areas on the hull.

 

Walking back towards the clones, Killianne pulled a greasy rag out of her back pocket and haphazardly wiped her hands on it. She looked the clones over from feet up, her eyes lingering on Tilt, before looking at Thumper and Riggs, “Captain’d probably take about 2 minutes eh? The ship on the other hand, maybe two days if it keeps from rockin’.”

[Nikolai Kolchak]

Sergeant Banks winked at the trio of clones, “I’ll put whatever you want on the side of your big boy. Might cost you a little extra ya know.”

 

She turned back to face the ship, reaching into the bowels of the craft and unceremoniously yanking a tangle of wires and hardware out. Throwing a loom over her shoulder, the Engineering Sergeant winked playfully to Riggs. “Hurry back.”

 

A gout of sparks erupted from the far side of the ship as the R3 sliced deep into the craft looking for abnormalities.

 

 

[Nikolai Kolchak]

Sensing the meeting was drawing to a close, Kolchak eyed the towering furres Jedi and Empress for a moment. Taking in the scene, his cybernetic enhanced mind already began to process it from multiple angles. Offering a crisp salute, the Admiral turned, immediately surrounded by his escorts, and they left the room. There was much to be done. The intelligence community was abuzz and Imperial forces were already in full drive to prevent wanton loss of life.

 

Making his way towards his shuttle, Kolchak was joined by several others, both Imperial uniform clad commanders and much less professional-looking sleezy intelligence assets. Just as quickly, orders were issued and the entourage peeled away on their respective tasks. Some would make sure transports to waiting evacuation transports was opened, others were securing intelligence files and weapon caches about the moon, and still others were ensuring that classified stations were shut down as per Imperial protocols. Families of far-flung and lost assets were given first priority aboard the Naval Intelligence transports. Those who served, were rewarded.

 

Reaching his own transport, Kolchak paused. There was no sense leaving without a full load. An crisp black clad Stormtrooper commander approached and handed the Vice Admiral a clipboard containing the names of multiple recently discovered clone soldiers. Taking the dossier, Nikolai began to read.

[Nikolai Kolchak]

Standing aside his shuttle, Vice Admiral Nikolai Kolchak of the Imperial Remnant read over the profiles of the clones, @Tilt07 his men had come across. His face, stoic, as always from the enhancements and alterations his cybernetics had taken on his body, did not betray his emotions; but he was pleased. His whirling eye, meanwhile noted another craft landing in the same area. A single passenger disembarked. “Most odd”. He whispered to himself.

 

The commander did not worry that the being presented a threat. He had a team of elite stormtroopers that had always seen to it that he remained safe, in spite of the crazy dangers the Director of Naval Intelligence put them into.

 

Tapping the edge of his clipboard, Kolchak caught the attention of his escort and nodded in the direction of @Cassius Nero as he wandered away from the landing bay. A knowing nod was all that was conveyed, any conversation amongst the white clad veteran soldiers and intelligence assets was unheard, contained within encrypted comms.

 

Tucking the clipboard under his right arm, Kolchak strode after the solitary arrival. That in itself was odd enough. A planet in evacuation and a single solitary teen arrives in world? It smelled suspicious enough. Was this another rebel looking for a cause? A mind-washed terrorist bent on suicide? An agent of the Sith? He would find out soon enough.

 

He followed the young man towards Rebel HQ. Suspicious enough. And then the boy introduced himself. Nikolai nodded. Was he expected though? Or was this a clever ruse to gain access to the Empress?

 

”Nero vas it?” He deep heavily accented voice boomed directly behind Cassius. The Vice Admiral stood, hands on his hips regarding the solitary figure. His cybernetic eye whirled and clicked as it took in the boy entirely, analyzing everything from his stance to his garb. “Vhat bring you here, a vorld in chaos? Ze Empire haz been expecting you.” he lied, trying to see if he could crack the traveller’s facade. Behind the commander, stood Kolchak’s four personal guard, their weapons held loosely, but resdy to react in an instant should the need arise.

[Nikolai Kolchak]

Nikolai Kolchak stood like a sentinel as he regarded the younger man. He bit his lower lip after several seconds before he spoke, “Who iz to zay vhat ze eyes of ze Emprezz take interest in young Cazziusss?”

 

“You keep own counzil. I appreziate zhat. Ze Empire appreziate zhat.”

The grizzled naval officer let his arms fall to his side, as he stepped forward to offer a large handshake to the Jedi @Cassius Nero. “Zhis vorld iz evacuating. To arrive at such time, very zuzpect, vould you agree? You, ov courze have paperz documenting your arrival and purpoze at zhis site vithin Imperial jurisdiction.” He pointed to the closed door with his opposite hand. His last words wete a statement more than a question as he held out an open hand for any such documentation that might be produced.

 

In truth, the world was in such a tizzy, ever since it’s takeover to now; that such documentation was rare. Kolchak knew that the ship that had not deposited the young Jedi had not been met by a customs officer; but had been allowed to land, having skirted the fleet, his fleet, above. Still, he was interested in the fellow, never one to let a possible ally go wasted.

[Nikolai Kolchak]

Beneath their helmets, the stormtroopers smiled at the Jedi’s bravado. Before Nikolai Kolchak could respond, the Jedi Ace appeared and spoke.

 

The Admiral returned the salute, withdrawing his unreturned handshake from the newest member of their order. He even managed to offer a somewhat forced smile to the newest member of their meeting before he turned to regard Cassius again. “Ah. Zo I zee you are vith Jediz. Very vell. I do not understand vhy you keep such thingz zecret.” The Imperial’s voice carried a playful air to it, even as the words hung heavy, line he was disappointed in the revelation. “Ve are all friendz here. Zome of your greatezt Jediz even become Imperial Knight or vork as azzetts of intelligence for common good.”

 

Kolchak offered a crisp salute before turning away to leave. Taking a few steps he turned back, “Oh. Vone ozher zhing. Do give Master Kill my best regards. Good luck in your training young Jedi.” Nikolai Kolchak was probably one of the few, if only people that knew of the Jedi Healer’s whereabouts on Byss, having supplied her, at her request, high level intelligence assets to aid her and keep her safe. Even now Imperial Knight Lok Skyshatter and Intelligence Assets Ruin & Fera were acting under orders. The might of the Empress knew no bounds. it was Kolchak’s job to keep it that way. He would watch the young Jedi from a distance. If he proved capable, he might just yet become a valued member of the Navy’s intelligence web, or even better, an Imperial Knight in service to the Empress.

[Nikolai Kolchak]

“Oh! Here you are!” An all too familiar cheerful voice called out as a smiling face popped into the doorway. The engineer who had been working on the clones ship had somehow managed to find them. “Walking tree told me you were . . . “ the woman’s voice trailed off as she registered the slew of combat droids active in the room with the freshly minted clones. She had seen the holovids. She knew what was gonna happen next.

 

”Aaaawwwww yeah!” She howled in excitement as she pulled her standard issued Imperial sidearm and crouched near the door taking aim at the nearest bot, cracking off a single round. “Come get some!” Shooting a glance to the troopers aithout completely registering much beyond their upgraded duty gear she shouted, “I got you covered boys!”

[Nikolai Kolchak]

As the engineer dove in front of the droideka, the engineer’s eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. “What is going on here?” She asked as she slowly stood up. Her gun lowered, although she kept it angled towards the droids. Stepping inside, she made sure that there was always some sort of cover between she and the droids.

 

As Tilt addressed her, the zabrak fished the keys to their craft from her chest pocket and jangled them. “All done. Paint job too. Looked like someone had already prison broke the thing once before. Shoddy Sith engineering if you ask me.” Slapping the keys on the wooden workbench, the zabrak’s eyes did not leave the droid even as she chanced a glance to Tilt. “The Admiral said that when I found you that you’re late and he’ll be waiting for ya.”

 

”Good luck.” She smiled as she slipped out the door and out of sight down the alley.

——————————-

 

The Mantis had been docked alongside Kolchak’s Lambda Shuttle. A dozen white clad storm troopers stood watch as the Admiral stood admiring the craft. His mechanized eye whirred and clicked as it took in the design and uniqueness

of the ship. 

Edited January 30, 2022 by Nikolai Kolchak

[Nikolai Kolchak]

Kolchak stood, hand in fist tucked in the small of his back, looking over The Mantis. He did not turn around when the clones approached, notified by the silent communications from his escort of veteran Imperial commandos. As the clones saluted, the Vice Admiral spoke, his voice carrying up towards the ship.

 

”Ze Corellian Ackalay type light freighter.” He described the name of the craft, reaching up to brush a piece of debris off the freshly painted aurebesh lettering. “Vourty-eight meter, vone-hundred ton cargo capazity. Nonztandard for official naval uze. Unregiztered in Imperial databazez.” He droned before finally clipping his boots together and spinning about to face the three clones. “Very appropriate vor vhat iz planned avter current emergenzy”

 

Nikolai Kolchak eyed the three, his mind-linked mechanized eye assessing and analyzing the derelict-yet-pristine fit outs. “Your viles are most imprezzive and you look vell for age.”He opted to not comment on their dated, yet like-new, armor. How had they kept it so well? Had these clones seen combat or were they fresh from the vats somewhere?

 

The admiral turned, leaning on one hand against the hull of the bulky craft. “Ze Empire exzpects zat you vill be quicker zan zhis tub. Can you do zhis? Ve have great need vor men ov your . . . . . exzperiencez in,” he rubbed his fingers of his free hand together as he paused looking for the word, “azzymetrical varfare.” Nikolai finally directed his one good biological eye to the three. “I am Vice Admiral Nikolai Kolchak, Vleet Commandant of ze Outer Rim, head of Naval Intelligence, under ze command of ze Emprezz herzelf.” He did not need to explain that he had spent his career ferreting out pirates, drug cartels, and warlords from the lawless Outer Rim. It was present in his stature, by the way he carried himself, just like his synthetic skeleton. It was a dangerous, almost criminal outlook; one contained within the confines of the uniform, and by it the rules, of the Imperial Navy. “Currently, ve are evacuating any non-essential personz to avaiting tranzportz in orbit. Intelligenze axzets have indicated pozzible Zith attack on Zhis vorld. Zector tventy-zhree iz being cleared now. Vill you azzist gentlemen? Innozent lives are at stake.” The question hung heavily on the air as Kolchak stared unblinkingly at the trio. The seriousness of the situation broadcast to the men a sharp divergence from the usual hubbub of the planet. They were back in the military.

[Nikolai Kolchak]

One of the stormtroopers canted his head to better look at the trio of clones when breeding was mentioned. It was subtle and he returned to his stance in a mere moment. Could have ben nothing but a twitch; except, well, these were some of the finest the Imperial Stormtrooper Corps had to offer. Each a combat veteran, crossed trained in both espionage and counter-espionage.

 

That was it and Kolchak was slowly nodding his head. The slightest of smiles played faintly at the edges of the Admiral’s mouth. It did not reach his somber eye and his body did not reflect it. Still, when the clones asked for more, Kolchak was pleased. “Vonce zhe vork plnetside is done, report to zhe Constantine.”
 

The Admiral gestured and an aid walked rapidly, and calmly, down the ramp of Kolchak’s shuttle and offered 3 scomp links to the clones. “Plug these into your buckets and you’ll be in direct communication with the Constantine. City overviews, real time intel reports, updated orders. Less red tape.” Holding out his palm the officer held a datachip, encrypted, encoded, and equipped  with biometric securities.
 

“Take zhat chip to Corporal Kran, Zcouting Corps. He vill brief you. Ze Empire zhanks you vor your zervice gentlemen.” Kolchak offered as a cryptic method of explanation. His attitude softening only slightly as he grew more mysterious.

 

——————————————

 

In orbit far overhead between the defensive minefields and the evacuation fleet and moon a task force of Rebel-Imperial warships drifted menacingly. 
 

The SFS Immobilizer 418-class Heavy Cruiser Constantine was the most worn and battle hardened member of the fleet. The craft served as Kolchak’s mobile command station for intelligence operations. Every crewman had been vetted to the highest levels and served in their capacities as naval or Stormtrooper Corps members as well as members of Naval Intelligence. It was a spider atop a net awaiting her prey. Ringing the aft of the craft, 4 DP20 Corvettes sat like young spiders waiting to strike. The Surprise, Crescelle, Hawkbat, and Audacity, all wartorn and hardened.

 

Nearby, to the port of the Constantine, the newly minted MC80a capital ship, Tessek’s Revenge, buzzed like a hive of angry insects. All manner of fast attack craft, each equipped with advanced sensors and scanners buzzed to and from searching the nooks and crannies of the Imperial Stronghold for silent watchers and listeners.

 

The craft stood as a gleaming testament to a hero lost in the Liberation of Mon Cal; a guerilla who had fought against the Sith occupation only to die in the final charge of freedom. Crewed by experience naval officers from both Mon  Cal and the Imperial Naval Academy; Tessek’s Revenge hungered for payback.  

To Constantine’s Starboard bow floated the solitary Wailing Whaladon. Bulbous and nondescript, the ship looked to more than likely be a part of the evacuation fleet. The truth; however, was much more sinister. The ship was laden with weight and explosives. Crafted under the Sith rule of Mon Cal, the vessel waited to drive it’s weighted prow into the bridges of enemy craft. Death and destruction would be immense. In the order of battle, chaos would reign as soon as the Whaladon struck.

 

——————————————

As the bits of gear and data were accepted by the clones, Vice Admiral Nikolai Kolchak dismissed them with a crisp salute before he turned on his heel and made his way to his waiting shuttle.
 

The detachment of troopers turned to follow. All except the trooper whose attention had been caught by the clone comment. He broke from his detachment and hurried after Tilt, intercepting him just before he boarded. “Captain. From one clone to another, watch out for those scouts. They’re cowboys. Not like us.” He nodded knowingly from behind his helmet before turning to hurry back to join the others and board the shuttle. 

 

 

[Nikolai Kolchak]

Aboard the Constantine, Nikolai Kolchak took command of the bridge.  Standing there amidst the orderly hustle and bustle of a fine-tuned crew within a fine-tuned machine, he felt at home.

 

With his right hand still held firmly in the small of his back, the commander swiped through the console screens before him. Diagnostic readouts, engineering reports, status updates both planetary and regarding naval forces all read out before him. The call had gone out. At times through official channels. Other times through common associates or back room contacts. Nar Shaddaa would be the place the Alliance made it’s stand. Anyone wishing to ckntribute to the cause of freedom, with proven loyalties, well, proven, at least in Kolchak’s eyes, would be welcomed. Already he noted the presence of a Squib reclamation fleet in the outliers of the system. Sometimes they were little more than pirates, but they were a contact via the Jedi and he welcomed their chittering presence. In addition, it appeared that a wide range of Kuati refugees aboard their stolen warships were prepared for combat. Bothan cruisers and spycraft pinged off their sensors as they intermingled amongst the other Rebel fleets. Sleek Hapan cruisers, quick bristling Corellian warships, massive Mon Cal luxury craft converted to war, some local Hutt frigates accompanying a single massive gun-bearing craft, beautiful Naboo starfighters and their transports, Dubrillion Defense Craft, abd Kessellian smugglers all sat in orbit ready for the pending battle. Each had answered the call and had tied themselves in with Alliance Command. From this close to the planet, it was a sight to behold. From the distance, the world seemed to glisten in a haze of warships as each took up their assignment in tandem, augmenting and adding to the defensive measures already in place.

 

Even so, they were not done. Emissaries and naval forces from several more peoples had been on contact. Their arrivals imminent. Soon the might of the free galaxy would be assembled and lut to the test against the forces of evil. Still yet to arrive were Nubian outriders, warriors of Kalee in their dated Republic corvettes, Csillian pursuit craft, Coruscanti Irregular Naval Forces, pirating private armadas the galaxy over, lumbering Fondorian heavy attack vessels, Wookiee warcraft,  hive minds 

of Mechis, freedom-aligned Mandalorians, and Twi-Lek defense forces. All would be in place before the battle commenced, ready to stand for truth and freedom. Each loyal to a cause greater than their own.

 

There, on the bridge of the Constantine , amidst the hustle and bustle, Nikolai Kolchak did something uncharacteristic. He smiled. Small and brief as it was, knowing the coming dangers and destruction, he still could not help but feel a sense of pride. These people, peoples he and his had worked hand in hand with over the years, had all come together. Where they usually worked alone, the chess pieces had finally been brought together to their final attack where the powers of each singular piece multiplied exponentially alongside one another. The Empire itself, once the Enemy of the Rebel Alliance, was now complete. No longer an Empire of fear, but one of brotherhood, dedicated to a future of freedom for all.

[Nikolai Kolchak]

The Constantine’s bridge was a well-oiled machine. Even though it was not the largest or most intimidating ship in the fleet, the cruiser’s interdiction fields were as legendary as their commander. Serving as the coordination point for a plethora of naval forces, the hallways of the craft were filled with different uniforms and military traditions; all bound together under the promises of freedom and peace, all aligned under the orderly command of Imperial commanders who had not fallen to the darkness of their former order. Good men dedicated to a good cause; but good men were still dangerous.

 

As the Kaleesh emissary called attention to himself, Vice Admiral Nikolai Kolchak slowly turned to face him from where he stood at command in the center of the bridge. From his elevated command dias, Kolchak’s cybernetic eye whirled as it took in the somitary black-clad warrior. 
 

“Ze great chief.” Kokchak turned the title over slowly on his tongue as if he tasted the title for the first time. He savored it.l as he extended a hand to take the datapad. His good eye scanned the readout on the datapad; a task force of vintage corvettes. The machinery left something to be desired; but Kolchak could see beyond the surface. Each of these crafts bristled with dated Republic weaponry and were manned by warriors, born and bred. These were not simple Academy graduates, these were soldiers from the times they could walk. Their reflexes honed and their bloodlust barely contained. Any who stood before them melted in fear or were cut down. “To zend zuch a delegation from ze tribes iz much apprezhiated.”

 

An aid approached the Commander of Naval Intelligence and Rebellion Fleet Commander. Kolchak sensed him without a glance and extended the datapad. Taking it, the aid moved towards his console adding the ships to the naval roster. Comms would be synced and orders coordinated.

 

Bowing slightly at his waist out of respect, Kolchak did not take his eyes from the Kaleesh warlord’s son. “Vhat iz zhiz request?”

[Nikolai Kolchak]

Kolchak righted himself from his slight bow, a hand smoothing the waistline of his naval uniform. He stared unblinkingly at the Kalee. His request was no small one and yet, it could be simple enough to grant. Kolchak understood the value of loyalty and anyone who would risk their own blood for a greater cause were worth allying beside; provided there were not other factors in play…

 

In local politics, there were always other factors at play. To throw his weight behind Qessax’s father would be to extend himself into the unknown of Kalee politics. Yet Kolchak knew his father, had bested him in battle, and taken his son, Qessax, as one of his own crew. To make such a request belied it’s importance. He was an honorable man. And so, Kolchak would honor such a request. Strong and loyal allies were hard to find. Honorable warriors even more so. With an entire network of agents and soldiers, ships and technologies, at his command, Nikolai Kolchak would not hesitate to pit the warriors of Kalee against whatever the enemy had to throw at them, even the Mandalorians themselves. Were these not the same partisans who had ravaged worlds with little more than space-capable tech?

 

Yet, there was more to it. Turning his eyes from Qessax, Kolchak surveyed the busy crew all about them. The bridge was abuzz, the hivemind of a great trans-galactic fleet of commandos and grunts, legionnaires and men-at-arms, guerrillas, conscripts, and dragoons. To add the Kaleesh to such a vast and varied botherhood would be most welcome. In time, every rave and nation present would desire a return on their investment. For some, it was freedom, for others it could be much more complex. The visit of a military officer to stand shoulder-to-shoulder in peace, to present the might of this Alliance, would undoubtedly be an easy task to cement a brotherhood carrying into the future.

 

A smile cracked the hardened Admiral’s face. “Qezzax. You have been vith me how many year now? You know, to grant sush a gift, I vould do in hartbeat. Before ve set date zhough, let us zurvive ze coming battle. Ze foe vill be many and zhey vill villingly zhrow zhemselves unto ze grinder to advanze ze cause of zheir masters. Vonce ze duzt zettles, ve vill, togezher, journey to Kalee and ztand zide by zide az varriors ov ze highest degree vith your vazher.” Kokchak reached outnto place a fatherly iron grip on Qessax’s shoulder. “Take your brozhets. Let no landing forzes approach ze Red and Black headquarterz.”

[Nikolai Kolchak]

The hubbub of the Constantine’s bridge slowed to almost a halt at the arrival of the Imperial Knight as she made her presence known. Those whose work could not wait those few moments carried on in silence, the beeping of comms and consoles a soft background to the forceful decree. As the Knight began to speak, Nikolai Kolchak and his crew directed their attention to the decree. A sense of awe swept the bridge.

 

The reading ceased and the scroll crackled as it returned to a loose circular form. A silent wonderment hung in the air.

 

Clapping his shining booted heels together, Nikolai Kolchak came to attention, his arms stiff at his sides. He bowed his head, inclined at the waist slightly to the Imperial Knight. “As ze Empress commands. I accept vith honor.” Standing to his full height, spine straight, Nikolai accepted the baton of office. It would have to do for now. There was no time to change or adjust rank cylinders. They had a siege to prepare for and win.

 

“Zank you Knight.” Nikolai responded as he turned back to the bridge of the Constantine, his Constantine. As Grand Moff and Supreme Commander of the Allied Fleets, it was distinctly possible that his vessel of command would be changing, if he survived the coming onslaught. “Prepare command.” He instructed aloud to the bridge. “Grand Moff Nikolai Kolchak, High Admiral of Allied Fleet, instructz all allied craft of Imperium and Allied fleetz direct their strength, load out, and position to ze Constantine for combat preparation and azzignment. Long live ze Empress. Long live Ze Rebellion.”

 

”Order confirmed” the response rang out. In minutes the order was relayed about the air and orbital space of Nar Shaddaa to every military aligned, allied, Imperial, Rebel, and privateering craft; from thebl smallest refugee transport all the way up to the Misericordia.

 

‘To: All Imperial, Rebel, and Allied craft

From: Grand Moff Nikolai Kolchak, Supreme Commander of the Allied and Imperial Fleets

All craft are to immediately relay, when safe, their current:

-position

-trajectory

-strength of arms and men

-load out

-current assignment

-combat readiness

-nation or organization of loyalty

to the Constantine for evaluation and assignment. All orders for the upcoming battle will be directed via the Constantine with secondary command from the Misericordia.

Long live Empress Raven and long live the Rebellion.

Until freedom is had by all.’

 

Once the message was sent, Kolchak waved Qessax over to him where he stood command. “Vith such promotion, ze stakes have changed.  I vill require associates outside ze Imperial hierarchy. Loyal guardsmen to ztand in ze gap.” He let the comment hang in the air, sure that Qessax understood his desire for loyal soldiers who were not on the Imperial payroll. Kolchak’s men were loyal to him, had been since they had been selected, hand-picked stormtroopers. That was as Vice Admiral and commander of Naval Intelligence about the Outer Rim. Things were much bigger now.  Intelligence assets that before could be handled with certain funds or favors would expect exponentially more, at least some would. Some would remain loyal seeing the benefit of their position still or more. Others would need to be faded out before they caused trouble. Still others would expect even less, their association itself an asset. They would each need to be reevaluated. All in good time.
 

First things came first. With his new rank, Kolchak’s authority to assist Qessax’ father increased exponentially for the same service. Qessax and his men could be expected to remain loyal to the Alliance, to Kolchak. Whatever came of the chaos of coming battle, Nikolai Kolchak had a duty to do. Staying alive and functional suddenly became even more important to the cause.