Private The Serpent’s Rest

[Grand Shepherd Burtch]

Location; Damascus Station, Praeda System, in between Hammer and Anvil

Damascus Station was a location like no other. The largest structure built to date by the Elysium Empire, it housed over a billion beings and had unreal production capabilities. It was said that Damascus and the mines on Anvil could produce enough refined beskar to cut the commodity price down to an eighth of the current selling price if they ever traded the metal on the open market.

Grand Admiral Burtch, commanding officer of the Elysium Empire Navy, had an office on the station. In fact, he now had many offices. This one wasn't his favourite. That status was reserved for his office on board the HMS Shii-Cho. But this one was a pretty close second.

Against the advice of his security team, he had picked an office with a window that overlooked the shipyards. From here he could see most of the ships in production or receiving work. Most visibly from his office were the freshly laid keels and frameworks of the newly engineered Indictment-class Star Destroyers. Burtch was taking just a few minutes out of his day to stand at his window and watch the work proceed. The new ships were the start of something big, and Burtch was proud of what the Empire was doing here.

His desk comm chimed so he stepped away from the window and tapped a button, "Admiral Burtch here,"

"Zir, de ztricking zerpent batt-algroup haz arrived from hyperzpaze and iz approaching de ztation az expected" announced Burtch's female trandoshan secretary. Burtch was happy to hear this. Striking Serpent had been away on long term assignment for almost a year now and had been successful in its pirate hunting work in the sector surrounding dagobah. In Burtch's mind, their return was sorely needed and long overdue.

"Thank you lieutenant. Inform the station flight controllers that Commodore Thaliias 's battlegroup is to receive top priority for yard time and refits. Her group will probably need it badly." He ordered. Her ships had been sent out with the most updated equipment for the time when the assignment was given, but much of that technology was already outdated by now and the ships were likely run ragged. Crews needed to rotate and bunkers needed replenishing.

Burtch then added, "when they arrive, have Commodore Thaliias come to my office immediately."

"Verrry well, Admiral."

 

[Thaliias]

Hair.

​

POLITICAL REGION: Damascus Station, Praeda System, in between Hammer and Anvil
LOCATION: Grand Admiral Burtch (Rhob’urt’chistagh)’s Office
Objective: Thaliias (Mith’Alii’Astov) meets her Commanding Officer.
Primary: Destroy enemy fleet. Secondary: Hostage rescue. Tertiary: Information.
TAGS: [ Grand Shepherd Burtch ]
Forces: Thaliias’ Division Uniform ~ Under-armour ~ Sidearm ~ Beskad


This time, Thaliias’ long, lustrous hair did not touch her collar. Yes, its shear length made most naval personnel stare. As currently styled, it met the letter of the regulations. It did not block her vision, and would not impede her flight suit sealing against the bitter cold of space. Yet … it was beautiful. Loud, vivid, feminine. Rather than neatly confined beneath a hair net, or being tightly braided, her blue-black hair glinted and glistened, formed into lustrous curls. The barest hint of beads on the end of the long pins which helped hold it in place teased at the eye, giving a sense of gazing into endless space. A sculpture, created from her own hair, with aid from a fine computer and her nanites.

It was her one extravagance, a remnant of the privilege and wealth to which she’d been raised. Everything else was both within regulation. Her Steward had requisitioned new uniforms, boots, badges. Even rank insignia; she’d not had proper Commodore’s bars until arriving here! Yet someone (probably the Grand Admiral) had anticipated her need, and fresh kit already sized to her had been ready. Only her Beskad, in it’s well-worn sheath, had a patina of age to it. All else was new, if just slightly loose upon her frame. She’d lost weight, this deployment. Not enough time practicing her personal fighting skills. Despite her painful land thorough training in hand-to-hand, her troops got surprisingly distressed when their Commodore ended up in personal combat.

Exhaustion lurked in gleaming eyes rendered a touch too bright from the stim she’d taken. A hyper-awareness of each and every sound the ship around her was the legacy of too long expecting attack from every side. The chaos and dissolution of so many political parties had made her mission a long, grueling task against terribly well equipped and trained foes.

Yet it had honed and refined her, as nothing save fighting for your very life could. A very … Mandalorian way of seeing things. And Mandalore was much on her mind, as she thought about the vast ship yards here, and their seemingly inexhaustible supply of their sacred metal. Who had taught them to forge it? Why? Would this, too, come back to haunt them?

Squaring her shoulders, she braced to attention as the Grand Admiral’s Trandoshan secretary opened the door to the Grand Admiral Burtch’s Office. Behind him, the shipyards toiled upon the vast star destroyers.

“Sir, Commodore MITTH’ALII’ASTOV, reporting as ordered, Sir.”

 

[Grand Shepherd Burtch]

Ah. I forgot about the hair…

Burtch saw Thaliias 's hair and remembered her eccentric tendencies towards strange hairstyles that pushed the limits of military regulation. His irritation rose ever so slightly, but he was partly amused. At this point, it was clear that she did this to mess with him.

She announced herself as she stood at attention. Burtch simply stared at her hair, deadpan, hinting at his annoyance. While he stared at her, he noted her condition. Her hair was pristine, if obnoxious, and her uniform was in perfect condition as it was entirely new. But other than that, she looked a mess. A human might not be able to tell, but to a Chiss's eyes, he could see that her vibrant blue skin was faded and sick. Her eyes showed exhaustion in a dull red glow, and her infrared temperature was a little higher than normal, indicating that her body was exhausted to the point of overworking her immune system to compensate.

She's been through hell.

Burtch found it all the more miraculous that all her ships had come back intact. She clearly fought hard to prevent damages to her fleet, but at the cost to herself. It was like she was taking on all the damage she could to save her crews. Burtch admired that, but her fatigue was something he needed to deal with.

"Please have a seat, Commodore. My droid is coming with some good coffee. I can see you need the rest."

Just as he said that, Laxxy the steward droid waddled into the office with a tray of Empire Coffee, freshly brewed. The droid set a cup on Burtch's desk without asking and then offered Thaliias a cup.

Burtch wanted to address other concerns, but he needed to check in on Thaliias's condition first. He needed her help, but he also needed her healthy, "You look rough, Thaliias," he stated in the Cheunh, "be honest with me. How are you feeling?"

 

[Thaliias]

​

POLITICAL REGION: Damascus Station, Praeda System, in between Hammer and Anvil
LOCATION: Grand Admiral Burtch (Rhob’urt’chistagh)’s Office
Objective: Thaliias (Mith’Alii’Astov) meets her Commanding Officer.


TAGS: [ Grand Shepherd Burtch ]
Forces: Striking Serpent Battle Group
Gear: Uniform ~ Under-armour ~ Sidearm ~ Beskad

He noticed her hair.

In truth, it was hard not to. But he was Chiss, so his irritation was expressed in a subtle play of the pointed look and determined refusal to address her hair style. Did she detect a faint hint of amusement in that stern Façade? It would be a vast victory, if so. But Chiss were so hard to read. But clearly … her hair style had not been enough to distract him from the signs of her rushed promotions and long deployment.

On-the-Job training was never easy, and despite the seasoned senior non-coms the Grand Admiral had sent her, she’d found herself straining to perform at the levels required of her new rank.

Ranks. She’d jumped several levels in the last year, the fighting to intense and expansion of the fleet too fast to respect time-in-grade or formal training. Not even the Advanced Tactical Class that was standard for Officers promoted past the mystical line from line Officer to Flag Officer.

A faint flush touched her cheeks. Invisible to most eyes but all too clear to the Chiss before her, yet she accepted the seat he’d offered her. The Grand Admiral was always meticulously courteous, but this time his courtesy came with a price.

Admitting to weakness.

The arrival of his Steward broke the tension of the moment, and Thaliias gratefully wrapped her hands around the steaming cup. She allowed the steam to wash over her, the scent soothing. She savored a sip, her guard down. It was strong enough to remind her of the Mandalorian brew her marines had shared with her. She’d leaned heavily on their expertise, as well. The much-less-rigid view of command the Mandos had was a saving grace to an officer promoted beyond her experience.

The beloved sounds of her native language rolled over her, comforting and true in a way Basic rarely was. His Cheunh was rich, filled with the subtleties that built entire word-pictures out of a few syllables. There was no dodging his meaning, or obscuring her reply.

Her own Chuenh was equally redolent with imagery and hidden meaning, though a wistful sadness flavored her reply. He’d seen her weakness, and nothing would ever erase that knowledge from his mind.

“I am close to physical collapse, Rhob’urt’chistagh.”

“I have a month or so at the current … cost, if your need is urgent. A night in a Bacta Tank every now and again can stretch that; there were none to spare, on our deployment. A few weeks of enough sleep, solid meals, and no funerals should mend me fully.” She nodded to him gravely. “I trust you to measure the need precisely; where and when do you need me?”

 

[Grand Shepherd Burtch]

“Well that is understandable. I wasn’t really expecting you to return with great vigor.” Burtch first said, returning to Basic, “The mission you were on was a lot for you and your battlegroup to handle alone. All of our potential fresh reinforcements were tied up in our new territory, securing our new acquisitions. Our navy has been growing fast, but our needs have been growing even faster. It’s just as well that you came back when you did. So many of our navy officers are fresh out of the academy and it’s exceedingly difficult to scrape up experienced officers for missions that need it. People get promoted quickly and it’s all trial by fire. Our training programs are good, but I need you and your officers from Striking Serpent to get our crews thinking about reality rather than theory.

“But your physical condition is also something I have to account for. You’re no good to me if you burn out totally. Luckily, I happen to have an assignment that should find a happy medium between breaking in new crews and allowing you to take it easy. But… if you feel you need the rest more, just say the word and I’ll find someone else.” What he didn’t mention was that some of the influential members of the Elysium Empire were trying to get him to take the assignment himself…

“The mission is light on fleet activity, but heavy on army action. But they will still need fire support and logistical help. Your battlegroup will remain at Damascus Station for repairs and updates. Some of your ships are still using the old MAI Defence Turrets for Sight sakes. Those have been long since rendered outdated by the new Mangy Cat Defence Turrets. Anyways, you’ll be temporarily given Cruiser Squadon 17. While CruisRon 17 is fully updated, its ships and crews are almost entirely green with the exception of a few senior officers, and a couple from Striking Serpent of your choosing. This will be a good shakedown run for them and your temporary flagship will receive a Bacta tank for your own private use on your downtime. I’ll send you the unit data for you to go over if you want to accept this mission,”

He picked up his datapad and flicked the screen at Thaliias with his finger. Her datapad chimed and a file with the data for CruisRon 17 came up.

Spoiler: Cruiser Squadron 17

2 cruisers | 3 corvettes | 52 Fighters/bombers | 8 support craft

Breakdown:

1x Makashi Class Light Cruiser

• HMS Niman (Flag)
  • 1x TIE/PN Fighter squadron (X) 163rd Squadron
  • 1x Ferrum-Class Bomber Squadron (X) Bantha Boy Squadron
  • 1x Imperial LAAT-2 Squadron (X)
  • Module slots have high powered sensors and comm arrays for breaking through jamming
    • (X) booster included

1x Rectifier Class Heavy Cruiser

• HMS Subpoena
  • 1x Saberdroid Starfighter Squadron (X)

3x Val Khaar-class Corvettes

• HMS Blossom
  • 1x ST-Class Multirole Starfighter squadron (X)
• HMS Orchid
  • 1x ST-Class Multirole Starfighter squadron (X)
• HMS Bloom
  • 1x ST-Class Multirole Starfighter squadron (X)

 

[Thaliias]

​

POLITICAL REGION Damascus Station, Praeda System, in between Hammer and Anvil
Location: Grand Admiral Burtch (Rhob’urt’chistagh)’s office
Objective: Learn Mission
Tags: [ Grand Shepherd Burtch ]
Forces: Striking Serpent Battle Group
Gear: Uniform ~ Under-armour ~ Sidearm ~ Beskad


The Grand Admiral remained inscrutable; Thaliias could not discern his private judgment on the matter of either her health or the state of her ships. The Grand Admiral stated all that was proper, even referencing the challenge they had of finding enough qualified personnel for the ships they already had. She could only nod agreement about the trial by fire state of their officers, but inside she felt a certain dismay.

Was he going to take her officers and scatter them throughout the fleet? She’d only just gotten them comfortable in their roles. Thaliias didn’t consider a mere year of active duty as ‘well seasoned’ by any means, but given the needs of the Fleet, anything was possible.

Yet it seemed it was she herself due to be resigned. She nodded, steeling herself for what was to come. R&R was for people who had something to come home to; she may as well heal up on a light duty post, as in sick bay. The summary of additional challenges was met with a calm nod.

“Thank you, Sir; it will be good to take a few key officers with me, especially as close coordination with ground and air forces will be required.”

The soft chime of incoming data drew her attention to a quick review of CruRon17, and a comfortable silence fell for a time. A good selection of ships, lots of versatility and things to customize once she was fully familiar with her new mission parameters. A Rectifier Class Heavy Cruiser, one of the Grand Admiral’s beloved Makashi Class Light Cruisers, and three Val Khaar-class Corvettes. Additional support craft to set everyone groundside as needed.

“A nicely balanced Squadron, Grand Admiral. What are our mission parameters?”