Jedi Insurgency 276

Due to the mass casualty event, and general instability on Coruscant, the flames of rebellion had begun to spread. 

The Republic's most ardent defenders, orators, and statesmen were hard at work championing their cause across the galaxy. Clad in a voluminous white robe, the cold blue eyed beauty, and pacifist at heart, the Senator representing Chandrila, Mon Mothma, had stepped forth in during this time of crisis. 

Surrounded by an honor guard of bulky, heavily armored Mon Calamari, she stood poised within Coral City's palace. 

The audience chamber was grand with pearls, beautiful jade sculptures, and rainbow colored water art. Beyond its translucent bubble walls, great schools of silver fish turned through shafts of filtered sunlight, while the distant silhouettes of Mon Calamari cruisers drifted above the reefs like slumbering leviathans.

The impassioned speaker had no room to marvel at these wonders, nor appreciate the constantly changing bubble art as she had come to execute a mission. Ever the eternal pacifist, and peace lover, even she had been pushed too far once Palpatine had transformed Coruscant into a living hellscape. 

One month had passed since then, and even still, she could hear the foul howls of those poor souls trapped within the storm. Such an event was incredibly traumatizing, and Mothma had come to one solemn conclusion: such evil must be erased for the good of the galaxy! 

Therefore, she had traveled to multiple systems this month imploring others to rejoin the Republic!...although her results had been less than stellar, resulting in neutrality at best, and hostility on more than one occasion. Traveling to the far edges of the galaxy, she hoped this trip to Mon Calamari would not be in vain. 

Mon Mothma stood before the orange-skinned monarch, King Lee-Char and gave him a grand bow. 

“The Empire will come for Mon Cala eventually.” She said, her voice gracious, yet carrying with it a solemn level of certainty. “Its appetite does not diminish when it is fed. It only grows.”

Lee-Char regarded her from his throne, his webbed hands resting against the seat's coral-shaped carved arms. Age and war had hardened the young king who had once fought to reclaim his crown. He remembered the Separatist assault upon his oceans, the droid armies descending into his cities, and the allies who had died beneath the waves alongside his troops. 

“And yet, now you ask us to fight beside those same Separatists. Commanders who once served Dooku. Corporations that armed the invasion of my world. You name this an alliance to restore the Republic, Senator Mothma, but some among your allies tried to destroy it.”

“I have not forgotten, Your Majesty. Nor would I insult you by asking that you forget. Necessity has placed former enemies upon the same battlefield, but necessity does not absolve them of their crimes.” She said, not shirking away from the directness of his claim. 

That answer seemed to interest the king, and he leaned forward to get a closer look. 

“You are bold, for a Human. What guarantee do you have that the Quarren will not rise again in Civil War? That the Separatists shall not suction us in the back whilst swimming alongside the kraken?" Lee-Char questioned in a heavy tone. 

Mothma paused, disliking what she was to say next. “General Revan, the Jedi Master has made peace with the Separatists. Temporary as it may be, if there is anyone you can trust, Your Majesty, it is the Jedi.” 

Lee-Char slightly felt at his wrist where a manacle had once rested. It was only thanks to Master Kit Fisto that he had been freed. That he was able to avenge the murder of his own father. 

“...No Separatist warship will enter the Mon Cala system without my consent. Nor shall the corporate authority reclaim property or contracts abandoned during the war. Any restored Senate must investigate the crimes of both the Empire and the Confederacy. We shall not be satisfied until the shell protecting those slime is thoroughly crushed.” Lee-Char declared in a bombastic way, prodding the Human in front of him, to see how she would react. 

Mon Mothma inclined her head after each demand. “I will place those terms before the Alliance Council, and I will support them personally. The Republic we restore cannot merely imitate the one that fell. It must prove itself worthy of the worlds asked to defend it.”

For several moments, the only sound was the deep resonance of the ocean pressing against the city’s shields. Lee-Char was surprised. Before Mothma arrived, his advisors had spoken about her. Impassioned, pacifistic…the current representative of Chandrila must be desperate to so quickly agree. A small smile spread across his fishy lips. 

“Then Mon Cala will judge the Alliance by its actions, and help ensure it survives long enough to be judged.”

He then turned toward the officers assembled along the chamber’s edge, and gestured towards his best friend, the only one he could trust amongst this court filled with intrigue. 

“Admiral Ackbar, you will take the first expeditionary fleet. Place it under Alliance strategic command, but retain sovereign authority over Mon Calamari forces.”

“And our objective, Your Majesty?” Ackbar asked with a bow. 

Lee-Char looked toward the cruisers moving beyond the glass, their graceful hulls already awakening as running lights flickered across them.

“Make war upon the Empire.”

Ackbar saluted, then departed with little fanfare. “At once.”

Mon Mothma watched him depart to gather his captains. She permitted herself a small breath, not due to some triumph due to the successful negotiation, but one of hope. The Alliance had gained more than ships. It had gained shipyards, experienced sailors, and a people dedicated to the cause. 

“Do not make me regret this, Senator.” Lee-Char said, holding out a somewhat slimy hand. 

Mon Mothma didn't hesitate one bit, and clasped it firmly. “Your Majesty, I intend to give us both something worth fighting for.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon the factory ridden world of Corellia, the bushy mustached radical, Garm Bel Iblis looked at a holo map with satisfaction. A month had passed since those fools at the Senate Rotunda finally decided to join this war, and he had been eager to show of Corellia's might. 

Unfortunately, his dearly beloved planet was not entirely unified, and he was forced to carry out a purge. To cleanse the impure blood from his home, he had recruited what loyalists he could, and launched a surprise assault upon those pro-Imperial boot lickers. City after city, factory after factory, victory followed in his wake. The righteous sons & daughters of Corellia soon joined his host, and those ancient families who had opposed the Bel Iblis line & all the people of this world finally met their just deserts. 

Closing in on the final fortress, Garm was one stop away from bringing the full weight of Corellia, and her dependent systems into the war. 

Standing atop the command deck of a hastily constructed command post overlooking the valley below, dawn spread across the forests of Corellia. The morning mist rolled between the trees, broken only by the silhouettes of dozens of newly manufactured AT-ST walkers advancing in disciplined formation. Their steel legs churned through the undergrowth with rhythmic clanking sounds, each machine bearing the crimson-and-gold crest of House Bel Iblis where the Imperial insignia had once been.

The stolen schematics had proven every bit as valuable as he'd dreamed. 

Corellia's shipyards had always possessed extraordinary industrial capacity. Given a complete technical blueprint and enough determined engineers, reproducing the Empire's scout walkers had become merely another manufacturing contract. In less than two weeks, an entire battalion had emerged from hidden assembly lines, built by Corellian hands for Corellian freedom.

A smile tugged at Garm's lips.

"Forward men, sweep the valley, advance into the fortresses shield barrier. Wipe them all out, leave no survivors."

A chorus of acknowledgments answered over the comm, and the walkers surged ahead, followed by a large contingent of troops. 

Early on, he had taken prisoners. They were all misguided children of Corellia after all. However, now that a month had passed, and these final few refused his offers…it was better to cut such rot from the flesh! 

Twin blaster cannons erupted almost in unison. Thunderous red bolts hammered into bunkers concealed among the trees, and blasted apart any obstacle in their path. Heavy repeating blaster fire answered from the Imperial sympathizer defenders, but the walkers shrugged off the punishment, stepping relentlessly through showers of sparks. One bunker disappeared beneath concentrated fire before another AT-ST simply strode over its shattered roof, crushing the broken ferrocrete into the earth.

Corellian infantry followed behind the armored vanguard, advancing confidently beneath the protection of the walkers. Resistance collapsed almost as quickly as it formed.

"The eastern ridge is surrendering." One officer reported over the comms. 

“Give no quarter.” Garm icily replied. 

To the west, however, several enemy officers attempted a breakout aboard speeders. Half a dozen AT-STs pivoted, their chin-mounted blasters scorched the road. The fleeing vehicles spun into the ditches in smoking heaps, ending the escape before it had truly begun. Explosions rocked the forested valley, and the screams of men were cut short as a bolt was placed in their head. Not even the wounded were spared. Under Garm's harsh orders, a quick execution was the only mercy given to these ‘traitors.’ 

Within the hour, the valley had fallen silent, now all that was left was the factory turned fortress at the top of the opposing hill. A blue barrier cost its form, providing protection from projectile weapons, and disabling any repulsor lift technology that made contact with it. It was in such a scenario that the relatively slow moving terrestrial vehicle, the AT-ST proved its worth. 

The last Imperial fortress on Corellia crowned a granite plateau overlooking the valley, its angular walls wrapped within a shimmering blue shield. Turbolaser towers lined the battlements, while trenches and anti-vehicle emplacements stretched for kilometers around the citadel.

For centuries, this bastion crafted during an older age had been considered impregnable. Conventional armor had been stopped cold by the shield barrier, while infantry assaults had ended in bloody failure. The Imperial sympathizers had grown complacent behind their seemingly invincible defense.

Garm intended to let them know the price of their arrogance. He lowered his macrobinoculars and turned to his commanders.

"The shield was designed to stop fast-moving vehicles and incoming fire, but our new toys are more than a match for them.” 

A grin spread across several officers' faces, and they nodded along. 

"Advance."

Dozens of AT-STs marched forward in disciplined ranks. The Imperial batteries-sticking the gun port just beyond the shield so that the artillery piece couldn't be shot back at-opened fire at once, their crimson bolts crashing into the approaching formation. Armor blackened and one walker stumbled under the barrage, whilst several more crashed and burned. Despite this suicidal charge, the line didn't break, proving the bravery of those under Garm's command. 

Then the lead walker breached the shield, and all chaos broke loose. 

"...They're inside!" Someone shouted over the fortress loudspeakers. “Enemy walker has breached the base, enemy walker has breached the base!” 

Blue waves shimmered across the shield as two...five...twenty AT-STs simply walked through the barrier that had protected the fortress for years. Their chin cannons immediately came alive, blasting open bunker entrances and silencing defensive emplacements from within the perimeter. Concussive grenades were launched one after another, and side-mounted missiles destroyed the most robust artillery emplacements. 

Behind them, Corellian commandos hurried through the gaps created by the walkers, storming the walls before the stunned garrison could reorganize.

This time, the battle lasted less than twenty minutes.

By the time Garm climbed the fortress steps, smoke curled lazily from shattered turrets, and Corellian soldiers had already secured the command center. Several Imperial officers knelt in rows beneath armed guards while engineers disabled the shield generator that had once seemed invincible.

Smoking a cigar, he withdrew a blaster-pistol from its holster, and brained one of the captured officers. Some of his men flinched, and the sympathizers began to weep or beg. 

“Now you want to surrender? Heh. What about the people on Coruscant who were swallowed by that storm, you ask them to surrender?” Garm asked sarcastically. 

“We, I-” One Colonel got out, only for Garm to blast him in the chest. 

“We don't negotiate with terrorists.” Garm said in disgust, taking a large drag of his cigar, he then turned to his troops. “Clean this scum up.” 

The sound of screams & blasterfire echoed in the fortress, and upon the end of this bloodsoaked day, Corellia had officially joined the fight. 

~~~~~~

AN: I hope the contrast between the 3 primary Republic/Rebel leaders is apparent, lol. If you think about it, Padme/Leia are like all 3 of these people mixed into one! Consequently, it's her Interlude next.