SithLore

Leia Organa-Solo had been an inspirational leader to rebellions across the galaxy, and among the GA she held a pre-eminent position as the ideal rebel, someone who had given up her privileges as princess to strive for equality and freedom for all sentients.

It was both fitting and reassuring, then, that this plan took place on one of the first worlds she had helped liberate, just a system away from her home of Alderaan.

Kattada didn't hold much in the way of valuable resources or important structures, but as a core link in the chain leading the GA worlds to the Alderaan system, it had been on the short list of worlds to invest time into freeing. With Coruscant in such an untenable position, however, resources were tight. Alliance Intelligence was under orders to come up with a plan that used the minimum possible assets to liberate the system or at least enable travel through it.

It turned out that Zasabi, much to his pleasure, was considered a minor asset. One agent, no matter how skilled, was only so useful. So it was that he found himself enjoying a wonderfully tart and fruity cocktail while studying an Imperial official splayed out on a beach towel in the distance.

I wonder how long I can draw out this assignment, Zasabi considered with a smile. Maybe if I get the bare minimum done here, they'll leave me on site a little longer to help stabilize things.

Dismissing the thought with a full grin, he sipped from the drink before surreptitiously tapping his sunshades. Aurabesh began to slide over his vision as information from his datapad reminded him of both his mission objectives and the particulars of what Alliance Intelligence had managed to uncover before his arrival.

A recreation destination in the core worlds, Kattada was on the decline ever since the rise of the Empire. While it still enjoyed the modest attention of businessmen and officials from the core worlds, it's proximity to the many calamities and conflicts the long war had spawned made it less appealing than other, potentially safer and cheaper alternatives. Still, it remained a notable if still minor source of income for the Empire.

Such worlds, however, did not survive as vacation worlds without the enforced labor of it's natural inhabitants. The abuse of the locals had not begun under the Empire, but it had most definitely prospered under them. Someone needed to serve those cocktails, after all.

Widespread abuse might well be tinder for the flames of rebellion, and this was as true now as it was in the days after the battle of Yavin. Once the rest of his team got into position, they'd start reaching out to those who refused to accept the control of outsiders over their lives.

A Mobquet transport rumbled down to one of the many landing zones for freighters to unload in Haleoda spaceport. The ship was standard for its class and carried painted on silver Mynocks on its sides. It came down hard against the durasteel pad and moments later the cargo bay doors followed. Inside was a crew of swoop riders and mechanics, here on the beautiful tropical world for a race that was set to happen by weeks end. At least that’s what the authorities and the local government was aware of.

The crew got to work setting up shop around the Mobquet, some taking a hovervan into town to meet with local contacts about the ‘race’. A large armored figure was within the vehicle, on the outside he was the crews enforcer, in actuality he was a Ranger Captain there for some Galactic Alliance intelligence joint mission with Antarian Ranger command. For now his job was simple, him and his team were to blend in with the local populace till his team was called upon.

The hovervan finally came to a stop in front of a bar and the door slid open. The large armored enforcer stepped out, checked the street before the supposed all star swoop rider stepped out behind him. “This is one hell of a planet Llanthu,” the green skinned Twi’lek spoke as he took a heavy whiff of the ocean air. “I think I’ll retire here.” He let a light chuckle escape his lips.

The enforcer merely nodded in response, for now he wouldn’t enjoy the fresh air due to the helm he wore. Though the main reason was he was on the job nor did he share the Twi’leks more carefree attitude, hence why Srid got to play the all star rider. The two entered the bar and found a table, for now they would wait and see what was next in GA intels big scheme.

UNKNOWN LOCATION, UNSPECIFIED COORDINATES
UNDISCLOSED SYSTEM, UNDOCUMENTED SECTOR


A long time ago and far, far away from their current clandestine location, the two white-haired old men with sagging skin and a matching pair of blue eyes currently sharing cups of chav, had been young, handsome, and self-assured. The vehement dedication and unsurpassable stamina of one had warranted him a certificate of merit from the Emperor—the first one—himself, one that he liked to believe had blown up in the same Emperor's own soggy face. Sitting across from him, was the hero famed as the greatest starpilot in recent galactic history—at least among those not blessed with the powers of the Force. The two legendary geezers had spent a lifetime serving alongside one another in one capacity or another, and needless to say, they were at it again. Even if the cycles had wizened them out and they weren't as self-assured as they once had been. Or handsome. Or young.

"On behalf of everything good and decent in the galaxy," began the latter gruffly, his accent noticeably Corellian, continuing after sipping from his cup, "you have my apologies."

"Shavit, Antilles," his companion responded, clearly peeved, in a matching accent. "This gambit of yours is a wild card. It's a high-risk investment, one that hinges solely on the chance of public dissent. Of rebellion."

Wedge chuckled. "Ahhh... the cycles have certainly made you boring, 'Director'," he sipped another cup. It was nearing dawn, and the Chief of Alliance Intelligence and Chief of Military Operations had both been active all night, working kinks out of the first phase of their upcoming covert op for the fifty-seventh time. Practically, in a distant corner of the galaxy, the wheels were already set in motion. The two old Corellians were the only ones actually aware of all the minutiae of their operation. No one, not even Stark herself—certainly not Stark—could be trusted with that intel. "It's a tad too late for us to worry about rebellions, don't you think?"

"You know what I mean," Crix Madine sighed, rubbing his temples. "There are too many variables. So many ways this entire operation could blow up in our pretty faces. For the first time in a long time, I'm not even sure I can wholly depend on the info dumps from my ground assets. It's a developing situation and anything could go FUBAR at any moment. That's what has me most worried."

The man winced and Wedge could tell the Director was imagining an Alliance capital ship, or even an entire fleet, dropping out of hyperspace in the smack middle of Imperial space. The ex-pilot sympathized, he could imagine no scenario where that would possibly end well. But his sympathy could only go so far. The gravity of the situation—the dominos they had toppled, and their resulting, wholly unpredictable effects—had been weighing down upon his shoulders more heavily than anyone else's. He knew Madine was a perfectionist, and his fellow Corellian loathed taking chances over clear, focused, strategic operations. It was something that put the Military and Intelligence Chiefs of the Galactic Alliance at odds quite often, but General Wedge Antilles was General Wedge Antilles, and as long as it was his op, he'd follow his gut. It had saved his life in the cockpit more times than he could count, and it was what he had learned from an old friend...

"For what it's worth, Crix, they'd be proud of how far we've come."

"... Oh, kriff it all to hell. I'm retiring after this one."

In any case, they would know soon enough. It was but a matter of days.


KATTADAN AIRSPACE, PLANET KATTADA
KATTADA SYSTEM, COLONIES REGIONS


"And what purpose does the Jedi Coalition serve in this... 'operation', Master?" the young Padawan asked, her youthful voice pervaded with uncertainty and skepticism.

"AUGHNUGHUHGNUNGUH!" her Master, the infamous Shirrwa the Wookiee, answered, his tone comforting yet educative. Frowning, the cobalt Togruta looked down at her nerfskin, open-toed sandals, contemplative. She was his freshly-minted Padawan. While her Master could not vocalize her name, Ai Radhika was adept in Shyriiwook, and understood every grunt and howl her Master emanated from his furry mouth.

Yes, it was true that their primary purpose here was to act as "escorts" and "protectors" for the Alliance Troopers, a squadron of which had accompanied them on their GX12 Hovervan ride across Kattadan airspace. They were not to engage in any physical combat unless they were met with some kind of Force-adept resistance, so they weren't there as soldiers. Just as a backup.

They were to land in the mangrove forests that extended eastwards towards the solid ground leading into the lagoon that formed the capital city and spaceport of Haleoda. The military objective was to ensure the smooth transitioning of intelligence, reinforcements, and... well, as a trooper had called, it, "toys". Blasters and rifles of all makes and models, from what the Padawan could gather.

Despite the reassurances that she wasn't going as a war commander, Ai was still uncomfortable with the whole scenario. It felt too much like the Jedi engaging in conflicts in the same manner as they once had during the Clone Wars. It was a period of time which, if she remembered her history lessons in the Jedi Crèche in the Volik Jedi Temple correctly, the Jedi Coalition of the current era frowned upon, as it had eventually led to the fiery demise of their thousand-year-old golden age. She remembered Master Seni Bonden, the head of the Volik Jedi Temple, vehemently opposed the concept of the Jedi Coalition and their Antarian Rangers assisting the Galactic Alliance in any of their conflicts. As Master Bonden had been the one who had found her as a toddler on Shili, her homeworld, convinced her parents to let her go with him to the Jedi Temple on Volik, and had been her first guide in the Force—she had absorbed most of his worldviews.

So, to put it in simpler terms, she didn't like what they were doing.

Her montrals picked up the familiar buzzing of a comm, her Master's. <Hey Shirrie,> it was the voice of Master Sam Tallav—apparently, him and her Master were on a nickname basis. <Me and the Youngling are in position. Things going smoothly on our end,> Him, and his 'Padawan' of sorts, Rabé Nuur Solana, were the only other two Jedi assigned on this mission, them as guardian-protectors of the Galactic Alliance reinforcements to the Kattadan freedom fighters westwards of Haleoda.

"Aungh," Shirrwa grunted in acknowledgement.

Looking up at her Master, then outside, through the viewport, at the beautiful seascape of Kattada, Ai figured she would understand soon enough, once it all went down. The negotiations between the Kattadan Insurgency—freedom fighters as far as they were concerned—and the Galactic Alliance military, the strategizing, wargaming, personnel positioning, and the execution of objectives. It was but a matter of days.