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.......

The Victory Star Destroyer Cobra dropped out of hyperspace, followed by the Carrack Cruiser Eviscerator, and the Fire class Light Frigates Hannibal, Hindustan, and Britannia. The ships formed up, and moved to take the planet of Drall. Arrayed against this fleet was a group of old Corellian starships, mainly three Corellian Corvettes, ten Corellian gunships, and a Battle wing of thirty-six Heavy Light Attack Fighters series 500 models, armed with 2 laser cannons, and 2 concussion missile launchers. Admiral Kraken ordered his TIE Devils to deploy from the Fire class Light Frigates, a full wing of seventy two fighters being launched to counter their fighter force. At the same time the Imperial Fleet began to lumber forward, intent on crushing the formidable but at the same time puny considering the size of the Imperial armada Drall Defence Force. Ahead of the Imperial and Drall Warships the fighters of both opposing fleets engaged. The TIE Devils loosed laser cannon salvos at the HLAFs, which responded with their own laser cannons, and a few missiles. Explosions flared as starfighters took too many laser hits, or were impacted with missiles. Of the Imperial fighters, the 287th lost half of it's fighters in the first exchange and retreated a short distance in order to reform it's remaining fighters into a smaller attack group. The 383th made a fine example of how to handle things by using extradionary tatics to vape a total of ten HLAFs in the opening moments. In very short time the remaining five HLAFs retreated to hide on the planet, while the Imperial fighters returned to their motherships. The two fleets then moved in on each other, jockeying for position before opening fire with their turbolaser cannons. The combined firepower of the corvettes, and gunships fell on the Cobra, weakening her shields considerably before Kraken ordered her, and the Fire Light Frigates to launch a large missile salvo at the lead gunships. The first three gunships in line were quickly destroyed with the large missile salvo, that consisted of well over a hundred missiles total. The remaining gunships however responded with a large missile salvo of their own, a total of fifty-six missiles coming in torwards the Victory class Star Destroyer. Turbolaser Cannons shifted fire from the enemy corvettes to the incoming missiles, and flechette launchers filled the space around the VSD with flase debris in the hope that some of the missiles would be deviated. Although a total of fourteen missiles were destroyed, or missed the VSD, a total of fourty two missiles hit home. The shields quickly collapsed, and missile pockmarked the VSD, opening gashes in the hull, blowing away weapons emplacements, and collapsing deck structers while starting numerous bad fires. Admiral Kraken quickly ordered the Cobra to execute a one hundred and eighty degree roll that brought her undamaged weapons, and shields to bear on the fleet of CEC gunships, and corvettes. In the time period that had passed, the Fire Light Frigates and Carrack Cruisers had crushed another corvette, as well as another two gunships, leaving just one corvette, and five gunships operational. The gunships continued their advance, so Admiral Kraken ordered another missile salvo to be launched against the remaining gunships. A total of seventy missiles leapt out of their tubes and arced in torwards the enemy ships. This time, the missiles, combined with turbolaser and Ion Cannon fire from the Cobra, and Eviscerator, penetrated the shields of and destroyer four CEC gunships, leaving just one gunship and the corvette to be dealt with. This they were in short order, with the Eviscerator suffering moderate damage in the process by one final torpedo salvo of eight missiles from the last gunship. Having dealt with the threat of the AeroSpace defense fleet, the Imperial Fleet moved on to deal with the planet of Drall itself.

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….

Hmmm…

Captain Paedorous had a decision to make, and it was not one that was ever easy for him to make. That did not stop the decision from being made, but oft – as today – he enjoyed having a second opinion.

The sounding of the Captain’s office-door chime put a smile on his face, knowing it heralded the entrance of Commander Gavin. Standing at barely 1.70 meters, the Commander was far from the ubiquitous Imperial officer. He had, in fact required special dispensation to serve, dispensation that was not let down as he excelled. Serving under Captain Paedorous he had found his niche, both sharing the old-Imperial distaste of all tings non-human.

“ Decisions, decisions.”

Gavin smiled and plopped his lithe yet small frame in a metal chair adjacent his captain. “ Having trouble?”

“ Indeed,” Paedorous replied and held up two data discs. “ The Porlean 5th or Treydii 16th Movement.”

Gavin pursed his lips. “ When shelling from above, what can be better than Porlean.”

The captain nodded and inserted the disc to his pad. Within moments, the soft and flowing strains of a Corellian opera began to reverberate throughout the ship. Every gunner, officer, and technician was hearing the mistress belt out serene phrases in an old and forgotten tongue.

Paedorous and his second returned to the bridge and issued a single order: commence fire.

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.

Major Herris Lentry clenched his jaw, a tinge of pain stinging every nerve in his face giving it quite a pained appearance. Copilot Morris Joplin noticed and quickly rose from his seat to where the operator of assault shuttle 36-16 sat.

“ Sit down, Mor! There’s not a damned thing you can do! Blasted surgeon took out my molars and the anesthetic’s wearin’ off.”

Joplin nodded in sympathy – he had recently been separated from three teeth he was rather fond of. However, after something of a nasty brawl with two Fleet-officers he had been admitted to an infirmary – where he awoke with two metallic fingers and a trio of absented incisors. It was during a brief but by no means painless recovery that he resolved never to be heedless of the pain of others – especially the man with whom he worked every mission of every day.

“ Ah yes…”

Joplin began to clamp his restraints together when a hastily restrained moan of pain emanated from behind the pilot’s chair – but it was in no way related to the pilot’s oral ailment. Major Lentry had heard the story of his copilot’s recovery a dozen times in as many days and sought not to hear it again. Thankfully, the comm-indicator on his console flared red and he placed his headset firmly over welcome ears.

“ Whoever you are, 36-16 thanks you greatly.”

A muffled laugh was transmitted from tactical control high above Drall’s rolling surface. Three beeps in quick succession gave the acting liaison enough time to compose himself for the data reels recording every nanosecond of comm.-traffic to and from the Eudaemon.

“ 36-16, orders have arrived. Proceed to grid Delta – 887 and eliminate all rebels.”

Lentry bit down hard, the force of bone gnashing bone distracting his mind from the pain now surging through his mouth. He hated pain without exception – his own, that was. “ Confirm: Grid Delta 887 to be razed.”

“ Confimred. Good luck and happy hunting.”

Lentry sighed. Another village to torch. Can’t they do this to another pilot who has no dental problems…

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.

Ceril Arian simply sighed when his boss brushed off an outstretched arm in a vain attempt to stop a tirade that was bound to draw a significant number of catcalls from the assembled persons. Arian had been in the employ of the Cyrus Corporation for twenty years, and despite being at loggerheads with his direct superior, he tolerated a life of constant argument solely because his boss was a man who could get things done under remarkable circumstances. While they never agreed on anything, Arian did acknowledge a return show of respect from his boss at his own uncanny ability to wade through logistical and administrative disasters bearing success and completion in hand.

“ This entire operation has been botched from the beginning. Now I’m no military figure, but I know that with fifty thousand able-bodied soldiers under us the Imperial garrison of half that should not have been a problem.”

Arian hunkered down next his boss in the auditorium-like structure, waiting for the strings of jeers to start flying in his direction. While he physically shrunk back into his chair, Arian realized he was in an auditorium – that of a local university. Scribbled in the world’s native tongue on a shredded banner was the name of a nearby river followed by some inspirational phrase.

“ Yes, General Serrisim. What in the Five Brothers happened there?”

Arian did not realize his eyes had been shut hut did when he opened them to see who had - a cause of great surprise – agreed with his outspoken and profane employer. It was another humanoid, a blue-skinned Falleen who occupied the position as mayor of Revviston.

The room was quite a minority when one looked around at the hundred or so beings that were the loosely-aligned leaders of Drall’s anti-Imperial rebellion. Drall, fur-covered and feline in their appearance were quite a meticulous species and the brains behind the entire uprising. Humans and Drall’s other alien (to the natives) inhabitants provided only a financial backing for the costly enterprise of insurrection.

Given the coalition’s diverse demographics, General Serrisim’s reply was shocking. Having spent three decades mounting a disk in the planetary police command office, and as such dealing with a wide cross-section of society, he was known to openly despise anything not of Drall. “ Do not look up your nose! Did you expect us to fight walkers with pistols and hunting weapons? Or do you think we failed because we’re Drall, you hate me because I am Drall???”

Arian’s boss, having seated himself, stood and offered a haughty ark of laughter in response. Opening his mouth wide, long-grown whiskers bouncing as he spoke, he replied,” I hate you because you’re stupid!”

Many of those assembled found themselves sharing the general laughter including most of the Drall. Serrisim was competent in his work as a policeman but had not impressed the rebellious quasi-government with his skill as an army’s leader. He owed his continued presence to the complete and total lack of any one able or willing to fill his shoes. The Empire took a dim view of capture rebel leaders but placed them before the Procurator of Justice for judgment. Those locked in mortal combat with the Imperial Armed Services did not tend to survive interrogation by ruthless Intelligence officers who owed promotions to debriefing performance reviews.

Serrisim’s ego had been deflated, but Arian had no doubts it would flare up soon enough. Then stood one of the four Drall acting as the head of the rebellion-in-progress and silenced the assemblage.

“ We fought for a brief period. We engaged some Imperial Civil Defense patrols when their occupying forces left. They’ve not bothered to land any more troops or send a fleet to bend us. They sent one ship! I think it’s time we stepped up our actions or we won’t get noticed.”

“ We’ve noticed you.”

The speaker of the last comment was not loud and was not emotional. It took some time for the din of gathered political-hopefuls to quiet themselves. Even when they had, there was no idea of who had uttered the statement that was, in and of itself, harmless – but it was enigmatic as whoever spoke would be referring to himself as a representative of the Empire.

Arian felt his stomach tie itself into a knot when a black-clothed human emerged from behind where several crates of athletic equipment were stored. The figure wore boots of jet that reflected brightly the room’s high-mounted lights. He was unmistakably a member of a security service that was most certainly not Drallese – they had no uniforms.

He was a member of Imperial Intelligence.

“ 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.