The Rebel Faction

[SIZE=3]Undisclosed Location – Present[/SIZE]

Ko’Vic turned a harsh, hardened gaze across the gathering and bit back his growing doubt. The original Rebel Alliance under Mon Mothma, Ackbar and others was comprised of and reliant on its diversity. However, as he studied the assembled faces, even the ex-New Republic Admiral felt a pang of regret that they did not have those great, instrumentally important personalities present today.

Faulker had provided a stirring, poignant speech to rouse the troops but, as the Bothan saw it; these were not his troops – they were his confidants, his peers and partners in crime. Their responsibility went beyond simple passion. Still, it had accomplished something. It had formalized the anti-Imperial and pro-Republic agendas that had driven the effort forward, albeit at a snails pace, over the past three years.

Ah well, he thought, those words will rouse rebellion in the hearts of the young and dissatisfied. Spoken as they might well be, one day, by their Vance Taesch before those very freedom fighters.

He had not taken kindly to the serpent. From the moment of his arrival the creature seemed possessed of an undeserved sense of entitlement going so far as to nick-name the Bothan Admiral. He was not, it seemed, interested in ingratinating himself with the Alliance hierarchy. That was fine by him however as, given the Admirals understanding, the reptile would be working closely with the terrorist-oriented freedom fighters whom, as he had been told, would be coordinated by a nefarious individual indeed. And while Ko’Vic had heard of Paunch (he had even been furnished with a dossier containing all known information on the individual) he had no stomach for the mans tastes.

Ko’Vich and Jamison were traditional fleet men.

This they had in common with Bandor Kre’Fay. The Bothan Admiral was well known to Ko’Vic if by reputation alone and he hoped that they would be tasked with joint operations in the pending future. Where Kre’Fay would be command their military assets in the field leaving logistics to Ko’Vic and his network. Indeed he was quite looking forward to his new post.

Throughout the speech and following Ko’Vic remained silent. He had been provoked by the lizard and had no intention of letting personal conflicts arise.

With a grin he eagerly awaited orders.


[SIZE=3]The Dauntless Dreamer - Nebula BX-001-nxB - Present[/SIZE]


The Bothan Assault cruiser lingered in the blue-red haze of a dense star cluster. At eight hundred fifty meters in length, the BAC sacrificed some of its combat ability in favor of stealth and communications. Painted jet-black, the onyx colored starship waited for the return of its commander from the near-by planetoid.

On the bridge, dressed in full military regalia, General La’Key bristled. The fur on the back of his neck rippled. Around him, working busily, were dozens of Bothans in similar dress though of varied rank. Most were regular navy but some, La’Key’s men, wore the drab brown and blacks of the Bothan Army.

He snarled.

“Run up the flag, gents.” La’Key commanded. “Time for another flash-up.”

The groan of the crew was audible. La’Key smirked and snapped his fingers.

“Begin,” he ordered as the blaring emergency klaxons went up alongside the crimson hue of emergency lighting.


[SIZE=3]Nebula BX-001-nxB – Present[/SIZE]

“Go,” snapped Green One, the Bothan face behind the blast shield a grimace. “Go, go now!”

The aging but well maintained E-Wing starfighter accelerated forward like a blaster shot.

Checking his wing, Green One confirmed that his wing-mate had kept pace. She had. Red One was keeping position on his port wing, her own similarly conditioned X-Wing driving ahead under full throttle. Green One, his craft superior in terms of speed and acceleration, kept his own throttle back a few notches.

“Where is he?” Red One asked over the comm. “He’s not on my screens!”

“Calm down Red,” replied Green One. “It’s the nebula. It’s playing with our scans. He has better sensors.”

“He’s hunting us,” she finished in a static ridden tone of voice.

“Yeah,” he tapped a few commands in to his flight computer, smirking when his astromechanical droid quipped a positive response. “My R-7 says were good. On my command, break.”

“Aye, aye,” Red One confirmed.

No sooner had the junior pilot confirmed when two incandescent bolts of green energy shot between the pair almost simultaneous with Green One shouting, “Break!”

The beams of coherent light passed between the two fighters.

“I’m hit,” called Red One. She repeated, “I’m hit.”

“Losing power,” she informed.

Green One punched his incredibly nimble fighter to full throttle and cut in the boosters while yanking back on the yoke with all of his strength, one foot sunk ankle-deep on the rudder control. “Bring all shields to forward.” His droid responded and he supplied, “dump the rears in to forward guns!”

“Lame duck,” he shouted over the radio channel.

On his screens Red One was spiraling away her systems dying. Her s-foils gyrated distractingly as bolts went zipping past. He poured on the speed and was rewarded with the sight of the lumbering B-Wing fighter locked on the tail of his squad mate. Under normal circumstances the bomber would not stand a chance in a toe-to-toe fight with either of the other true fighter craft however these were not normal circumstances.

“Bingo,” gloated Green One when his systems tagged a positive lock. He jarred the yoke and jerked the triggers back. “Good night, bad guy.”

The staccato thumping of his guns reverberated through his craft. The E-Wing was equipped with powerful blasters to accommodate its incredible speed and maneuverability which, combined, made the fighter a deadly hit-and-run interceptor. Having pumped his reserve batteries in to the forward canons, his shots at first impacted with the heavy shields of the B-Wing.

His computer registered solid hits and the B-Wing, its shields dying, broke towards the Nebula.

“Nice,” congratulated Red One. “Thank you big brother, now let’s go kill that bastard!”

Red One, having regained much of her systems control, angled towards the nebula.

“Negative,” ordered Green One. “Leave him be. We have a mission. Let’s get back to the ship.”

“But…”

“No buts,” cut Green One. “Follow my orders Nyra.”

A moment of silence followed before, “Aye, aye,” came back over the comm. She started back toward her wing-mate, “plotting course for the Dauntless.”

Inside the nebula, from the cockpit of his B-Wing bomber, the previously adversarial pilot studied his plot. Half a dozen blips appeared and he signaled them. “B-One, mission accomplished.”

The Bothan voice was unmistakable. “Move on to waypoint beta.”

“Roger,” answered B-One forming up with the rest. “God, I love these exercises and simulated damage.”


[SIZE=3]The Dauntless Dreamer – Present[/SIZE]

Commodore Mathias, a human, watched the events unfold from starfighter command. Over his shoulder, having descended from the bridge proper, stood General La’Key. Both men were watching the maneuvers intently and although the General was supposedly monitoring the flash-up exercise he had taken a passing interest in the pilot’s antics.

The content and aim of their mission escaped the ground-and-pound Bothan commander who preferred his battles fought on the firm soil of the galaxies many planets. Still, he had to admit, they knew what they were doing.

With an amused scoff the General moved to return to the bridge and his drills. He and Mathias did not often see eye to eye on most affairs though the two offered each other the grudging respect of service men.

He quipped, “One thing is for sure… we will give those Imperials hell.”

Replies shot out from all across the room. As Marin Faulker scanned the horizon of the meeting room, he believed his words did their duty. Despite this, there were still a few whom were openly critical - Marin knew this would be the case.

Bandor Kre'fey was the first to speak, his words were well chosen and relevant to the situation. This was just the type of discussion that Marin hoped would evolve.

<i>"....A campaign that will encompass all of our forces and assets to build our Alliance and tear down the Empire. With your permission, High Admiral, I request that if this idea is shot down, that I may at least take my Excalibur to pursue these goals."</i> The Bothan concluded.

"Thank you Bandor..." Marin begun but was quickly cut off.

<i>"A plan to kill without a plan is no plan at all, Bodin."</i> A large reptillian creature hissed in reply.

The creature seemed to eye Marin Faulker up and down - in disgust. This however, did not phase the veteran leader of the Alliance to Restore the Republic. Then the lizard-man continued his rambling.

<i>"To get a bounty is not a plan. A plan involves details... Like... Going into that bar"</i> He continued on, and on, and Marin Faulker continued to listen but took his words for what they were.

Then, just as Marin Faulker thought the disruption was over, a human with a sinister grin on his face began to speak - clearly a companion of the lizard-man.

First he said something softly to his companion which Marin couldn't quite make out from his vantage. Then he continued for the whole audience.

<i>"But where’s the part about blood and murder?"</i> The human asked, clearly a question rhetorical in nature.

<i>"That is our job."</i> The reptillian creature replied to that question that was posed rhetorically.

Then the human continued to speak.

<i>"True enough.

"Okay, well that is all well and good," he said gesturing to the crowd. "But when do we get to the meat? When are we going to discuss the facts, not just our dreams?

"You want to talk about democracy, the undermining of the Empire and the restoration of the Republic?"</i>

Marin Faulker stood there, still poised and proper despite the the slight detour some had taken.

As the human, who appeared to be just as sinister as the lizard-man spoke, Marin stood there watching him - <i>listening</i>.

"You all bring up good points, this is what we're here for - to <i>discuss</i> the future of our Alliance. That is why I've called each and every one of you here today.

"Bandor Kre-fey, the eyes and ears of our Navy proposes a campaign which would get this Alliance rolling." Marin Faulker said, motioning to the Bothan Admiral.

"This, <i>gentleman</i> here," Marin says, pointing at the reptillian Sha'tek, "says... well to be honest I don't know what the fuck he just said. He mumbled something about having a plan.. and then going into a bar and he really lost me at that point, so I apologize." Marin said, adding some levity to the situation, many of those on hand erupted in laughter. Marin moved on to the human companion of the reptile, not stopping to see what the lizard-man's reaction was to his comments.

"And this man here," Marin said, gesturing to Paunch the companion of Sha'tek, "he wants to cut the bullshit and get down to business, so he can... Wait what did you say sir? He put it so eloquently too. Oh! That's right, he wants us to get to the point so he can get out there and blow shit up!!" Marin said, the crowd again burst into laughter.

"So here you have three different viewpoints folks. You may be sitting there yourself, thinking the same thing as one of these individuals - hopefully not the incoherent thoughts about the plan and the bar, you can do that on your own time!" He said, pausing for a moment to let the laughter subside. "My point is, this is what we're here for. We're here to get our ideas out there on the table.

"Make no mistake, this is an exciting time men. The Empire is failing from within, and they don't even realize it.

"So, allow me to address all your questions and comments.

"Firstly, Bandor: Your thoughts are the same as mine. We need to get out there and start drumming up some support for the Alliance. We will go about doing that in a few different ways; firstly, as you will be doing - through military action. Through victory on the battle field we will garner the support of the citizens of the Galaxy.

"Secondly, through political means and this is largely where Vance Taesch our Chief of State and his staff come into play. Mr. Taesch has a job which I don't envy. While I would prefer to be out there fighting on the front lines, either with blaster rifle in hand, or up there in the heavens piloting an X-Wing - Vance Taesch fights his battles on the political field. He will be largely responsible for gathering support to our cause both financially and militarilly, and in the process that will allow us to get our message across to more and more people.

"Mr. Taesch and his staff are also responsible for the Alliance's interaction with the Galactic media. A carefully placed commercial here, a poster there, battles are not always fought with a shield and a sword. Vance Taesch knows that all to well, and I can assure you; he's there best there is at what he does.

"And, thirdly, there will be those battles which are fought in the shadows. Hi-jacking goods, cutting off supply lanes, stealing, smuggling, assassinating, these are the types of jobs which will be done by some of you. These are the types of jobs you'll probably never get credit for, at least not if you're lucky." Marin said, allowing himself to smile briefly.

"So you understand, this is a multi-pronged approach we have here. Though Bandor Kre'fey and our reptillian friend here probably won't be out there filling the <i>same</i> roles, they will be ensuring the success of the Alliance to Restore the Republic in their own way. Both of which are crucial." Marin said, as he illustrated the difference between Bandor Kre'fey and Sha'tek the warrior.

"Now, to address your points sir." Marin said, motioning towards Paunch. "You're absolutely right, we do need to get to business."

"Bandor Kre'fey, you've been out on the <i>Excalibur</i> for quite some time. You've had the advantage of being out there witnessing the events of the Galaxy firsthand. What does your proposed campaign entail? And what will you need to succeed?"

"Matko Ko'Vic, surprisingly you've sat there rather quietly this whole time. What plots and schemes have you been cookin' up over there?"

"You there, the guy that likes to blow shit up. You speak about goals, missions, and getting stared. What do you propose? What do you have your sights set on?"

"And your companion there, the very large reptillian gentleman. You spoke of plans, well what's yours? What can you contribute to our goal?"

"Vance Taesch, what are your thoughts? What do you need from us, so that you may succeed?"

"I understand we all have questions, but let's start thinking of <i>answers</i>." Marin said in conclusion, posing questions to several individuals in rapid-fire succession, allowing them to answer in any order they chose.

The "meeting" had finally gotten underway, and from the looks of it, it wouldn't be over anytime soon.

Ko'Vic studied Kre'fay, his peer by species and command, while he spoke.

Barely perceptible, certainly beyond the comprehension of their human compatriots, Ko'Vic perceived a slight rippling along the other Bothans flank and smirked inwardly. This was typical of his people - the drive for power and recognition, and likely stemmed from Faulkers direct omission of the Bothans rank and position. Masterfully, however, Kre'fay quelled any apparent anger at their human leader and instead, managing an amicable grin, offered a solution.

It sat well with Ko'Vic and the other Bothans present; the idea of carrying the fight to Bothawui, their home world, and making a play for the liberation of their furred brethren was appealing. But, even to Ko'Vic it seemed a desperate measure. And he spoke up to that effect.

"My illustrious peer Captain Kre'fay," he uttered the honorific title respectfully, "has pointed out a viable direction for our efforts however..."

He was joined by Jamison with an arm-load of data files, "I do not think this would be the most wise outright offensive..."

Jamison began distributing the documents to those present, "It was requested of me that I compile a list of our viable assets, including those represented by all parties present today and various others..."

"As you'll see, we are in no position to attempt any open offensive against any Imperial asset worthy of mention and to that end, I believe our fist aim should be bolstering our base."

"We require star ships, we require weapons and ammo but also we require funds. While our coffers are in no direct threat of running dry an attempt to harass the Empire in deeply entrenched areas should, I feel, be postponed until we manage to build for ourselves a firmer foundation."

"It will be a matter of fielding ships and men, but not only in operation - we will need safe harbor for our men to stand down, to effect repairs."

He cast a pensive look at those present, "Gentlemen, I propose that we begin a campaign to win from the Empire the assets we will need to continue the fight."

Tapping a key on his own data-pad he summoned a display of information common to all the units, "My position in this movement will be Logistics and it will be my responsibility to weight our ambitions against our capability to realize those ambitions. To that end I have highlighted a number of Imperial shipping lanes that will avail us of these acquisitions. We will be able to capture and re purpose Imperial assets to our own aims however the Empire has grown stronger, smarter since the days of Mon Mothma and Luke Skywalker so we too much expand our tactics..."

Resistively, he cast a glance at Sha'Tek and Paunch, "And something tells me that will not be a problem for all of us."

"Regardless, I propose that Capitan Kre'fay and myself coordinate our efforts against Imperial shipping."

In the esteemed opinion of the nefarious Paunch, everything was taking shape quite nicely and it was at this point that he said as much though not much above a whisper and intended largely for his partner in crime, Sha’Tek.

“Looks like the adults have the game well in hand,” remarked Paunch in that same low tone of voice again to his serpentine companion. “So I guess it’s just a matter of finding out who is our handler…”

He cast a speculative glance at Marin Faulker and nodded appreciatively. The way he estimated it Faulker was the best bet as their contact inside the inner circle – a liar and traitor himself, Marin was uniquely equipped to deal with Paunch, Sha’Tek and their crew of misfits from abroad. Indeed Faulker had recruited Paunch and it was he who had first brought the renegade in to the fold, so to speak. In all likelihood Faulker would be the filter between the heroics of the rebellion and the gruesome truth.

Marin, having caught his gaze, nodded. “Did you have something to add?”

Paunch shrugged, “Sure.”

He rose, again. “Rebellion…”

“An organized resistance against a legal governing institution or ruler, defiance of an authority or tradition – the act of rebelling.”

“What we are talking about is sedition,” Paunch matched Marin’s even stare. “When the Rebel Alliance opposed the Empire, it was a bloody thing. I do not think we can hope to avoid that now and to that end I’d like to get started installing cells on key industrial worlds. My crew can begin unleash underground movements – get you the freedom fighters you’ll need… the ones strapping themselves with bombs, the ones throwing themselves on the machines.”

“Some of you don’t want to hear that, that’s fine. Marin brought me in to this thing and he can be our chief point of contact,” pausing, he looked to Vance Taesch, Chief of State, “assuming that is fine by you.”

“Regardless, the sooner me and my boys get to work the sooner the better.”

Paunch sat.

“We don’t need much and we’re not expensive to maintain but we need room to function. Give us a direction and we’ll match you with a plan but what you have to understand, all of you, is that this part of this thing is ugly and dark and you’re gonna have to let it work its course. And when things happen, be able to deny it.”

“Vague,” shot Marin mockingly. “Spooky.”

“Fuck you,” replied Paunch with a one-fingered salute. “But yeah.”

They both laughed and Sha’Tek said, “Humans.”


[SIZE=3]Coruscant/Imperial Center – Present[/SIZE]

Agent Blue pulled himself from the shadows. They clung to his stealth-suit like the tentacles of some intangible beast. With a hand he pressed shut the terminal he had been working on while the other maintained it’s vice grip on the underside of the drifting warship, moored as it was at anchor. The blackness of space broke as he moved out of the shadows of the angular space-frame and in to the brilliant glow of the not-so-distant sun. A black orb, a pressure helmet, covered his head but the skin-tight suit left no doubt as to his gender… or species. Though the vacuum tugged at him through the suit he felt nothing.

Satisfied with his work Agent Blue continued his crawl along the skin of the ship in silence when, in mid crawl, he froze. Deep within the recesses of his cerebellum something had just clicked sending waves along his cortex and tingling his fingers.

Beneath his helmet he said, “Fuck yeah, it’s on bitches.”

And then, as though he were a man born without fear, he kicked off of the dull plate steal and tumbled towards the planet. As he drifted towards the planet below he turned and cast a fleeting glimpse at the behemoth anchored as it was amongst the widely spanning shipyards. It was a shame to leave his work behind but he had bigger and better things to get to.

Again he twisted turning himself to face the planet once more. The disc swelled up ahead of him and he reached down to activate the personal-reentry-shield that was strapped to his back. A thrumming vibrated through his body and then he collided with the atmosphere.

Flames licked up around the PRS sending waves of ionized plasma wafting around him. It didn’t last long before he again broke through. Then, entering a spiraling dive, he prepared to release his parachute.

“Woo,” he screamed in to his helmet.

The meters flew by him at an alarming rate as he accelerated to terminal velocity. Soon he was nearing the space lanes, massive shipping caravans that encircled the city made planet, but too far off to be easily spotted. Then he was past the highest rungs of sub-orbital platforms racing towards the rooftops below.

Moments later, still basking in the thrill ride, he cleared the highest scrapers and angled his fall towards the deep chasms that ran between the highest structures and opened in to the lower levels of the cities. Only then, out of sight, did he open his ‘chute.

It tore open and fanned to form matte-streaked wings of wisp-thin fabric. He controlled his decent professionally aiming himself for a particular area of darkness.

Soon, he thought, and then you fuckers can burn!

Admiral Matthias Woods, the dark-skinned Korun allowed the lizard-creature to conclude his master plan before interrupting. The warrior spoke with a certain disdain for the humans (and others) present, which lead Matthias Woods to question why the brute had offered aide to the Alliance in the first place. Although just as quick as the thought entered, Woods answered it in his own head, <i>to kill</i> would come the inevitable response.

"Well said, I suppose." Matthias Woods said, when the creature was done speaking.

The Admiral stood to address the creature's points one-by-one.

"You say you have studied the Empire... I'm sorry I don't believe I know your name, soldier."

"Sha'tek!" The Shusugaunti warrior replied angrily.

"Ah, Sha'tek. Well, Sha'tek you say you've studied the Empire. So have I. In fact, it's pretty much my job. Which is why I can say with full confidence that expanding our operations into Hutt Space would be a bad idea." Admiral Woods said, as he began to pace back and forth in front of the holoproj at the center of the room.

"Recently, the Empire has focused their efforts on restoring their brand of order on Hutt Space. The SS will be actively patrolling the area, and will no doubt take a particular interest in us, if they were to find us there.

"At this point in our <i>evolution</i>, we're trying to keep attention <i>away</i> from us. Entering Hutt Space would only draw the attention and ire of the Empire, and right now, that's not something we're ready to handle head-on.

"As for the <i>illegal connections</i> we'll need, the simple answer is that we don't. We don't need any illegal connections to survive or to succeed.

"In fact, the way we are going to succeed is by generating support through <i>legitimate</i> means. The Empire is a big and nasty government that spans many worlds. But it doesn't span <i>every</i> world. There are plenty of planets that are not a member of the Empire, that would like nothing more than to return to the days of the Republic, when their voices as sovereign worlds were heard.

"<b>Those</b> are the connections that we, through our Chief of State, Vance Taesch, will be building." With that, Matthias Woods returned to his seat, allowing the other members of the Alliance to say their piece.