The Rebel Faction

Operation: Iron Might: TNO Takeover of Drall:
Setting: Five months before GC Invasion of Corellia.

As the starlines swirled around the viewport, Admiral Kraken looked back to see Colonel Tchort gazing out the viewport alongside him. Soon their conquest of the last Corellian World would be completed, and the sector would be secured. Kraken looked again away from the viewport to consult his datapad. According to Intelligence reports, the Dralls were a very peace loving species, that had a somewhat fair amount of technological advancement in the form of space traveleing, and moderate technical cities. Unlike the Selonians, who had proved to be a very difficult species to conquer, the Dralls will prove much easier, since they don't have the claws necessary to burrow large tunnels to hid under. That meant that little stood in the way of the Imperial Fleet to launch effective planterey bombardements, and little in the way for the Imperial Troops to handle once they made planetfall. There was an estimated 5,000 Dralls enlisted in what they call the aerospace defence force, a pitiful ragtag fleet of ancient Corellian Starships, effective perhaps in dealing with the occasional pirate, or smuggler, but certainly no match for the Imperial Forces arrayed against them. The Ground Troops the Dralls possess are a little more formidable, consisting of about fifty repulsor tanks, and ten thousand enlisted troops, most armed only with vibroswords, and pistols. They would be no match for the 5th Imperial Army Regulars, who had embarked upon this mission on the Flagship of the operation, the Victory class Star Destroyer Cobra. Also along for the ride was a AT-AT division, consisting in all of 4 walkers with 800 troops, and the old, but veteran 109th Juggernaut squadron, a group of a dozen old Juggernaught assault vehicles. The rest of his fleet consisted of a Carrack class Light Cruiser, the old Eviscerator, a ship that served with distinction after Endor, and a few of the modern Fire class Light Frigates. A bleeping signal caught his attention off to his left side. A crew member came to attention, saluted, and said,

"Admiral, reversion to realspace in thirty seconds." said the Ensign.

"Very well, Ensign. Send a signal to all ships. Raise shields, and power up weapons. Whatever we face in the way of enemy warships I want them to be taken down quickly." ordered Admiral Kraken.

"Yes sir", replied the Ensign.

Kraken turned back to the Colonel, and offered up a quick salute before saying, "Well Colonel, you'd better get to your Command Walker pod. We most likely won't waste any time inserting your forces to the ground. Here, take this datapad as it will contain any information you may need to look up once you have been inserted to the ground. Your landing point will be the outside city of Rattica. Intelligence tells us a small detachment of ten hovertanks with five hundred ground troopers guards the town. Once you have eliminated this force, and secured the city, proceed to attack the capital. The town milita has not much in the way of weaponry, only a few Laser rifles, and some blaster pistols. Most patrol the town with Vibroswords. I trust you can take care of this, yes? If you need fire support, just open up the line on that link to the Eviscerator, and request it. We will be preoccupied by taking care of Naval Installations, and Navy ships. Good Luck." said Admiral Kraken.

After the Colonel was off Kraken turned back to the viewport, and watched as the starlines began to fade, and shrink.......

There was nary a shudder as the Hammer-class Light Cruiser Eudaemon reverted from hyperspace over the Core world of Drall. In the distance shimmered Corellia, Talus Tralus and Selonia visible as well in the space about.

Line Captain Asil Paedorous stood on the bridge of the small cruiser and listened intently to the crunching leather of his gloves as he gnashed his palms together. The pair was new and he trying his best to wear them in – it was a hard task in his defense as Imperial-issue equipment without exception managed to maintain its ‘new’ state for some time after its issuance.

“ We’ve completed our reversion, Captain,” reported Commander Vimes, ship’s executive officer.

Paedorous smiled slightly and clasped his hands behind him. Drall hung above eclipsing all other view from the bridge’s transparisteel panels. Below a blue atmosphere sat some two billion non-humanoid persons, recently admitted to the Empire. However, since the task force under Vice Admiral Kraken had departed, a small insurrection had broken out. Thus the appearance of the man dubbed an “Intelligence bloke in Fleet uniform.”

“ Captain, there is a transmission from the surface.”

No sooner had the Captain nodded than a quarter-size representation of a kahki-uniformed Army officer stood on a rail-mounted projector platform. “ This is Major Brathis. Where are the rest of my reinforcements?”

“ Line Captain Paedorous – I am your reinforcements.”

There was something on the Major’s lips that contorted his face into a sneer, but that was quickly transformed into pure awe as recognition dawned. Looking hard enough, fear was evident among the emotions playing over the Major’s face. “ The Butcher of Galitep?”

Captain Paedorous bounced lightly as his chest expanded with a great bark of laughter. “ Admiral Kracken did not send me because I speed Drallese, I will tell you that!”

“ This can’t be right. This entire occurance is a misunderstanding. I requested more troops to restore order…”

The Naval officer cut Brathis short with the upsweep of a gloved hand. “ In twenty hours you’ve suffered two hundred casualties, half of them fatal. In your zone of command you have ten million aliens rebelling against five thousand Imperial soldiers. Talking won’t work. A much larger garrison is en route – until it arrives, I will restore order.”

“ But Captain! We can still reason with them! I won’t have you mucking up my planet!”

Major Brathis was acting garrison commander on Drall, but Paedorous felt it best to put the idealistic gentleman in his place. “ Until I am told otherwise, you are not the governor-general of Drall, so it is not your planet. I am now the ranking officer here, so it’s mine. And I will do all that is necessary to bring order to these uncivilized dregs!”

“ Uncivilized-“

The transmission ended when Paedorous cut power to the projector. Brathis was youthful but ignorant – alien could not be reasoned with. Only fear could keep them in line. Great-uncle Tarkin had taught the Captain as much. His teachings, applied during an insurrection on Galitep, were proven: the Order of Tommen below his rank plaque proved that….

Looking from her office on the 87th floor of the McKandlis Building, Maeriel Tel-Rosa felt a considerable amount of pride welling in her breast. It was, after all, not every day the daughter of a Talesean merchant became the Executive Vice-President of Drall’s largest watercraft manufacturer. With a premier’s degree in planetary economics, she was the ideal choice having worked her way through the company’s ranks from floor-supervisor.

With something of a sneer, Tel-Rosa looked down on the very factory where she had began her career a decade ago; her particular division had been right next to the waterfront, making fitting out craft with the solar-powered tubines she had produced all the more easy. There was no fondness in her memory when visions of hellish schedules and demanding superiors flashed in her eyes. Turning from the windows in her corner office, she felt almost spiteful.

Putting such memories aside, Tel-Rosa returned to her desk to confront business of the day: PrelletCorp on Corellia had placed an order for five 600-meter sea-transports.

Madam Vice President Tel-Rosa never was able to execute her duties that day, however. Instead her office was filled with a bright neon haze before orange and red consumed all around. Fire and flame burst forth as hellish as they were intended by the Gods and died all the same, nothing remaining for their hungry appetites to consume. Shaken to its core and never intended to bear the brunt of a turbolaser blast, the McKandlis building crumbled in on itself and showered its surroundings with dust and steel shards.

One-half kilometer from the falling building was the Terris Sea a turbulent body of water and largest of its kind on Drall. It could not be harmed by debris, for the oceans consumed all. Opposite its direct, however, was the very center of Yarr City.

Looking on, many native citizens and the wealth of extra-planetary businessmen that worked within the city’s limits were horrified by the sight of a commercial tower plummeting towards the factory complexes around it. Little did they know that because of a rebellion in progress-desire to make their city the centre of its operations, a vengeful Empire had decided to punish Yarr.

McKandlis’ destruction was a singular act: the ranging of Turbolaser Cannon No. 6, port battery, Hammer-class Cruiser Eudaemon. That accomplished, more shots could pierce the once-serene heart of a contented metropolis.

Pierce they did, fifty shots finding homes among masses of flesh and machine. Fire raged from towers, stricken and doomed people leaping to a foretold fate ahead jets of flame. There was little escaping such a terrible mess, many trying in tunnels cris-crossing the sub-surface. As they scurried for trams and trains, however falling debris killed those poor hoping wretches dozens by the blow. There were swelled columns running along small corridors pushing to flee carnage but were swept away by the Hand of Fate nonetheless.

It was little solace to those struggling to free friends and countrymen from masses of stone and steel that the early-day’s blue had sky had evaded a change to the black of smoke thanks to a prevailing wind out to sea. The fires burned ever hotter to force their ominous cloak over the afflicted city but failed in that respect. It was, though, the only failure of the day.

Night had fallen over Yarr City’s remains. Fire had its fill of carnage that day and as darkness settled upon the wounded metropolis, conflagrations across the area began to smolder and wither. There were not stars visible from below, clouds of smoke obscuring any view of Drall’s two moons and all light therefrom.


The City provided its own s best it could, thousands of emergency vehicles flashing and screaming at all hours. Emergency projectors were erected everywhere to aid in the clearing of rubble and rescue of those hapless souls caught underneath. Incom-speeders buzzed about dropping water while others broadcast news to a war-weary galaxy. Those watching from within the confines of the Empire’s borders could not be surprised: the price of rebellion against legitimate authority was a steep one the sensible citizen refused to pay.


Aris Stratton held the up-turned lapels of his jacket together about his neck and with his free hand shielded his eyes from kicked-dust. There was a large orange sphere painted on the whirring speeder denoting its affiliation with the top-rated HoloNet channel in the Corellian System. Glancing up at it when the dust settled, Stratton allowed himself a wry smile, the thought of galactic opinion running across his mind. Aliens will say we’re committing genocide, others will grunt that we’re oppressive. They had their Urill Trials, we have this.


The middle-aged gentleman walked into a dirt covered alleyway and swatted aside the pain of his great-uncle’s memory: captured and then executed for ‘war crimes’ the Republic had not hesitated to broadcast his and fifty other Imperial’s tribunals across the cyber-waves. As an agent of Imperial Intelligence, Stratton had exacted his vengeance several times over and bore no more chips on his shoulder save duty itself.


There was a sound from an entry-way nearby and Stratton sought cover behind a piece of what was once the Nakonti-Tower. A black-furred Drall stepped into the passage after doing a double check of the alley. Assured it was safe, he turned towards a nearby boulevard where the city’s only working tram-line could ferry a passenger fifty kilometers to Mastiogophorous.


True to his species: right on time. Stratton smiled again and let his coat fall back onto broad shoulders. Weapon secure under his arm, the agent lunged from his hiding place and landed square on top of his prey.


“ What?” was the closest translation of what the Drallese male uttered when he looked up to see a full-sized human seated on his stomach, mini-blaster pistol leveled down his snout. “ Who?”


Stratton remained emotionless thought his mind desperately yearned to exhibit a grand smile in pure condescension at his un-human prey. Professionalism did not allow it nor was his schedule forgiving enough to compensate for such an action.


“ Where is the meeting?”


“ What are you talking about?” the cat-like man yelled through the darkness. A still-burning fire nearby was enough to highlight his attacker’s face, but that is only to say he could discern his humanity.


“ I have little patience. Where is the meeting?”


Again, the Drall refused to answer the question by disavowing any knowledge of what his attacker was referring to.


“ I grow tired of this.” Stratton had a great deal of patience in actuality but did not have the time to extract the needed information in a typical way. His prey was to be observed boarding the tram in ten minutes. If he did not, a clandestine guard would retrace his intended steps and happen on a man seated atop one of the Drall Insurrection’s leaders. Knowing the limitations reality forced, Stratton moved his muffled blaster towards the cat-man’s right shoulder. A single blast found a home there causing the alien to give off quite a feral roar. Were Stratton a weaker man, he might have been bucked off.


“ Where is the meeting?”


“ Who are you?”


“ Well, I don’t suppose it will do any harm to tell you.” The pistol returned to its position above the prey’s snout where two beady eyes could read intricately the stamped manufacturer’s label on the barrel. “ I’m sad to say, though, I would have thought you to guess right. After all, you are a leader here. If you can’t spot Imperial Intelligence, then it’s no wonder your little rebellion is doomed to failure.”


“ Why would I tell you?” The cat summoned a venomous growl from his lungs before hurling a wad of saliva into his attacker’s face.


“ Very well.”


A second blast ushered forth from the barrel, this one burning into the alien’s left shoulder. There was an accompanying growl of obvious pain; blood now soaked nearby fur and an expensive lower garment the prey wore.


“ Where? Unless you don’t value your nose.”


“ Ferisssss Tadddsssss,” the creature uttered in its native tongue. Grinningly toothily, Stratton gave a smile to his victim.


“ Sand street. I speak Drallese, by the way. Intelligence thanks you.”


The operative stood from the beast’s abdomen and stepped back. Sneering, he pulled the trigger a third time on his weapon and ended the life of a miserable alien rebel-leader. With a hefty toss the pistol went flying towards garbage covered by a layer of dust from the day’s bombardment. Stratton bounded down the street before a team of clandestine rebels arrived to find their regional commander executed and tortured.

“ Do not look so alarmed.”

The officer strode forward, hands clasped at his back, the paragon of arrogance. His every word was dripping with sarcasm, his eyes casting a wretched aura of evil over all they surveyed. Below a crooked nose sat an evil smile, a sneer judging all those within sight as worthless and below.

“ You are all insurgents. You are, moreover, alien. I suppose that is the reason you are too stupid to know the folly of your ways.”

He walked forward, every step clicking with the polished gym floor. The sound hit every crevice of the expansive chamber, adding more and more to the eerie presence.

“ It is not, however, an excuse.”

On cue, hundreds of soldiers kicked in ventilation panels high above the room. From the openings pointed blaster rifles and repeaters held by black tuniced soldiers of Imperial Intelligence.

Captain Paedorous left the rebel leaders to their thoughts, not a word spoken. He slowly and deliberately exited before a rain of green blaster fire cut down to a man the leaders of the rebellion. There was a great symphony of screams when the Captain departed the building.

Arriving on his ship, he sent a message to High Command: mission accomplished.