Public The Beginning: Korriban Revolt

[Nat Nawara]

REBEL ALLIANCE

RESTRICTED // FIELD INTELLIGENCE

KORRIBAN

LABOR CAMP REVOLT // OPERATIONAL DOSSIER

01 / MISSION PARAMETERS

FILE: KOR-{1}

OPERATOR

{NAT NAWARA / STONE}

LOCATION

Korriban // {Labor Camp 3}

OBJECTIVE

{Arm the Resistance}

CONTACTS

{ Akari Yui Sol Stazi Vega Askani Kehl Thraxx Nej Tane Rafe Mazzic Capricia Volante }

02 / INTELLIGENCE ASSESSMENT

SITUATION

{Smugglers have landed and made contact. Weapons distribution in process.}

THREATS

{Planetary Garrison}

SUPPORT

{ALLIES / EQUIPMENT / EXTRACTION}

03 / FIELD REPORT

In the early morning hours, before sunrise, the barren, desert surface of Korriban felt cold as ice. Nat Nawara huddled with the rest of the prisoners around a group of freighters which had allegedly been bringing in further supplies for the construction of more monuments to the Sith. In reality, they had been transporting weapons caches.

A few guards had been bribed to look the other way tonight. So far, so smooth.

Nat grabbed a crate and helped offload it. He and the Devaronian beside him pulled open the lid, revealing neat rows of blaster rifles stuffed inside.

“Finally,” Nat muttered, picking one up for himself and handing another to a nearby member of the Korriban Resistance - a rebel cell inside the labor camps of Korriban he had been working on for months. Officially, some Sith pretended that they did not allow slavery or slaves. Instead, they had prisoners serving life-sentences performing hard labor, like the those in the Korriban camps. In the end it was all the same, build their monuments or feel their boot in the back. Nawara could not remember how long it had been since he, just a simple miner from Ryloth, had been captured by the Sith. Maybe a decade. He’d lost count along the way resigning himself to the idea that he would never be getting out of here, until a source reached out to contact him.

To help him resist.

“Kiff, these look brand new. Who is funding all this anyway?” Asked the Devaronian.

“We don’t ask those questions,” Nat rebuked him. The less they knew, the better in case of capture and torture. “Come on, get that crate over there.”

“Hang on,” a Chadra-Fan held up a paw, ears twitching. “Everyone quiet.”

In the silence, Nat finally heard it. The signature, high pitched shriek of TIE fighters cutting through atmosphere.

They were blown.

“Get those crates out, now!” Nat yelled as people started to panic, “They won’t find us unarmed and helpless. Come on, would you rather keep living like nerfs?”

Some started to run.

Nat looked around for others who would stay and fight, desperate.

“They’re coming,” whispered the Chadra-Fan.

The scream of Twin Ion Engines in the distance grew louder.

STATUS: {Operational}

TIME: {0430 hours}

END REPORT // REBEL ALLIANCE // KORRIBAN

 

[Akari Yui]

Korriban

"Fire upon the camps. Prepare for strafing runs." Her order went through the shared comm of her team.

The scream of the TIE she flew rattled in her bones. It was a familiar, comforting rattle. There were others in the Dreadborn a part of this squadron today. Ones she considered family. Gloved hands flexed on the Fighter's controls as the landscape of Korriban melted away.

The figures of the camps and gathered transports growing bigger with each roar of the engines.

They were all ants on the horizon.

And she and the sith were gods of the sky. Ready to snuff out any whispers of rebellion. Ready to end what had barely started. Akari let that settle in her chest. Let her mind wander down a path that was all too familiar. Before her attention snapped back to the controls. Snapped back to what she had to do.

Nat Nawara

CC: Gerwald Lechner / Dreadborn

 

[Nej Tane]

GIVEN PURPOSE​

Nej Tane.

Outlaw. Thief. Pariah. Habitual liar. Bank robber. Gunslinger. And now, with all that money and all that time, he realized he needed to do something else to add to that list:

Rebel.

Sure, he'd been a "rebel" in the sense his entire life. He'd fought the law and won, and lost, over and over. But never really fought for anything. Just himself, money, or a good time. Maybe here and there, a good deed, but in all of Nej's long life, he'd never really stood for much. Until now. Nej rolled the guns in his hands, after landing the Lucid Dream a bit away from the camp. Guards and Stormtroopers approached, but Nej pulled his disruptors up into his hands, and fired. His HUD was laser-focused on the enemy, and aided in target selection and threat analysis.

His speed and precision were unlike most gunslingers in the galaxy. He was fast, he was lethal, he was accurate. Nej had been doing it for so long that it was hard to say if there was anyone better than him at pulling fast and shooting faster. In the span of two seconds, Nej put down six troopers and two guards. He looked up and heard the noise going on.

His crates had arrived.

His ship was the ticket out of here for those that wanted to come. The other ships, pilots he hired to come help them- well. They were there for those that wanted to come. Nej wanted to rebel now. He wanted to resist. And he was going to spend every bit of his new, massive fortune on making sure the Rebels had every advantage they could. And-

Bother the ever-loving-hell out of the Empire.

Nej pressed on into the camp, taking the keycards, and a finger and an eyeball from the dead guards with sharp applications of a vibroknife.

Security measures were sometimes a queen. Didn't hurt to have backup plans.

​