The Capture
of
Coh Veshiv
Author note: My spelling checker decided to drive me crazy, it systematically replaced 'tibanna' with 'banana'... obviously he must believe that the inhabitants of the Star Wars Galaxy don't eat enough fruits and vegetables and took it upon himself to correct this aberration!
Elshandruu Pica, Quence Sector, Outer Rim territories
Located on the Five Veils Route, Elshandruu Pica was the capital of the Quence Sector and especially a health resort known throughout the galaxy. Picavil, the planetary capital, was a conglomerate of casinos, hotels, bars and restaurants.
These recreation facilities (including conference rooms, private playrooms, gyms, weightless swimming pools, grav-ball courts, massage parlors, and many other things) were entirely managed by the young (and beautiful) Kina Margath. Undoubtedly the most courted single woman in this part of the galaxy. In addition to her 1,500 full-time employees, and 3,000 seasonal or part-time employees, her thousands of specialized droids employed by the bosses and managers of all the establishments in the capital, Kina Margath owned her own club the "Club of the 27th Hour ".
You don't know the Club of the 27th Hour?
Let me first say that this is wrong! It was THE must-see place of Elshandruu Pica. Located in the Margath complex, it was a hotel, bar, restaurant, and casino, frequented by the most powerful and influential men of the Quence Sector. The parties that Kina Margath organized in her club attracted industrialists, aristocrats, holovision stars, and planetary governors. Even the Imperial Moff Riit Jandi and his wife were regular guests.
On stage, blue or green skin Twi'leck dancers contorted in a display of agility as graceful as sensual. As always, these beauties attracted the attention of most people present... finally mostly men (who knows why). Nevertheless, almost all the stools around the bar and almost all the tables in the room were occupied as well as the two Sabacc's tables.
It was at this point that the doors opened to let in an individual who was particularly expected. He was dressed in civilian clothes, a red suit. Strangely, this eye-catching color did not look flashy on him, and as his outfit was both severe and elegant, it suited him particularly well. The man was called Sair Yonka... and he was the commander of the Star Destroyer Avarice, currently orbiting the planet.
The man was a regular at the Club of the 27th Hour, it must be said that his destroyer had a patrol route that started from the Imperial Center and crossed much of the galaxy in a loop that passed through Elshandruu Pica. The notables of the Quence Sector were always happy to see him at their parties because Yonka was telling them about the latest rumors from the Imperial Center. As the Avarice ISD's patrol route was as regular as it was predictable, regulars had been made to schedule their evenings to coincide with the Avarice's stopover on Elshandruu Pica. To be exact, the proposal was first made by Aellyn, the lovely young wife of Moff Riit Jandi.
Dressed in a sumptuous evening dress leaving her left shoulder bare, her hair styled into a skein as complex as apparently messy, Kina Margath approached Commander Yonka.
"Sair, how good to see you again."
The man's stern face shone with a smile, he took the hand that the woman held out to him and made a hand-kiss fit for an aristocrat of the Coreworlds.
"Kina, nothing could keep me away from your parties, you know that."
It was not a simple evasive compliment; it was the strict truth because these two shared a secret...
Taking the young woman's arm, Sair Yonka walked through the vast room. Greeting some acquaintance on his way, stopping for a few moments to chat with one group or another, he eventually arrives at an alcove occupied by the sector's Moff and his wife.
It was common knowledge that the commander of the Avarice was a personal friend of the Moff Jandi. Sair Yonka says hello to Riit Jandi... lingering a little longer than necessary to smile at his wife before the Moff takes up the floor again.
"So, what news from the Imperial Center?"
"Oh... something happened that made a lot of chatter in the high society of the capital. Do you know Coh Veshiv?"
"Yes, of course, one of the Emperor's advisors."
Sair Yonka smiled coldly.
"Well, His Majesty sent him... for inspection."
As the destroyer commander had said it in a mocking tone, the Moff frowned.
"For inspection?"
"Aboard an ordinary CR-90 corvette... an inspection without a clear goal and that will make him visit one after another all the planets of the Core... several months of a tedious journey which resembles more a penance than a task with meaning!"
Yonka finished his sentence with a burst of laughter, accompanied by Kina Margath and Aellyn Jandi.
On the contrary, the Moff remained serious even if a cruel smile appeared on his lips.
"I see... Coh Veshiv did something that really displeased the Emperor."
A few minutes later, Kina Margath was excused on the pretext of taking care of her other guests... at least that's what she says, because she had something else in mind... Kina was tasked with arranging a discreet and... romantic meeting between Sair Yonka and Aellyn Jandi in a hotel room. With the skill born of a long habit, the young woman had made sure that witnesses could ensure they saw the two lovers in remote parts of the Margath Complex and that traces of their passage could be found in case of doubt of the deceived husband, providing an airtight alibi to the sweethearts. Kina wholeheartedly supported the young couple. Although married to Moff Jandi (a man twice her age) Aellyn was unhappy and... Sair Yonka was a young officer rather handsome... and rather friendly... at least for an Imperial.
Kina Margath was also capable of organizing such events, but this was only one of her many talents.
Oh... I think about it... did I say that Kina Margath was a rebel agent? Specifically, she was in charge of the Alliance's intelligence services in this galaxy's sector. Suffice it to say that her coverage of all the social events in the capital of the Quence Sector offered her an ideal position to obtain information.
As she walked through the corridors of her hotel, Kina was jubilant. She had just learned something very interesting... an advisor of the Emperor was wandering around the Coreworlds... without any escort! She had to warn the Rebel Alliance Headquarters. They could take advantage of this unexpected opportunity and capture Coh Veshiv. His interrogation could reveal unsuspected weaknesses of the Empire, unspeakable secrets, or even reveal the names of those guilty of some of the recent atrocities committed by the Empire.
The next day, Picavil's spaceport.
The Dawn of Arkanian, a Thalassan slave transport of Y164-class had landed the day before. The sight of this black, hideous, dirty, and decrepit ship, armed with laser turrets, spread terror among the slaves waiting in a camp guarded by Imperial soldiers.
Even among the other slave transports traversing the galaxy, the Dawn of Arkanian had a very poor reputation because none—absolutely none—of the slaves bought by the crew of the Dawn had ever been seen alive again! They exclusively purchased slaves in poor health, the wounded, those exhausted by malnutrition, and others unsellable 'used goods'. The rumor was that this group of slavers worked for a crime lord who needed a large number of living victims to feed his favorite pet monster.
Two people descended the landing ramp. The first was Thila, a female Sullustan and the commander of the Dawn of Arkanian. She was accompanied by her bodyguard, a deserter from one of the most ruthless mercenary teams in the galaxy, still wearing the armor of the First Sun Mobile Regiment. The presence of Matt Tallon only exacerbated the bad reputation of the Dawn—notably, this deserter had been so morally corrupt that he had chosen to abandon his unit to become a slaver himself!
An anonymous Imperial official approached them to have several documents signed by Thila. Before documents provided her with various Datacards regarding the 'cargo' she was taking on board. However, one of the Datacards was unrelated to the load; it wasn't even an administrative document. Thila discreetly pocketed it.
As the guards began ushering the terrified slaves onto the ship that would take them to their tragic fate, Thila smiled at her bodyguard. "Matt, we have a Datacard for Alliance HQ. We'll make a stop to deliver the card to Corwin."
Matt Tallon nodded. This human being of terrifying appearance, disfigured by a scar that split his face from the top of his cheek to the bottom of his chin, twisting his lip into a frozen sneer, had committed many abuses before an event overturned his values, forcing him to change his life.
"I'll take care of it, go reassure our passengers."
Thila went down the stairs to the slave jails. The place was dirty and unpleasant, exactly what one would expect from a slave transport. Yet the guards did not hurry to chain up the captives or close the doors of the cells. Unlike most salvers who were bullies who took pleasure in beating and humiliating their victims, they did not use their neural whips.
Thila stopped at the top of the stairs.
"Calm down, you're safe. This ship belongs to the Rebel Alliance! We are people-smugglers who help slaves to escape. The reason why no slave we buy ever reappears... is because we lead them into the Unknown Regions. The Alliance has discovered several habitable planets that they have begun to colonize. Again, you are safe. Welcome to the Alliance."
Everything Thila had just said was the absolute truth. The crew of the Dawn was members of the Rebel Alliance. They operated under the noses of the Imperials for several years without ever being suspected... after all, to associate the Rebel Alliance with a band of slavers of such a sinister reputation seemed perfectly absurd. The stroke of genius of the Alliance intelligence was to add Matt Tallon to the crew of the Dawn. This deserter had committed horrible crimes while he was a mercenary before turning a new leaf and joining the Rebellion. His mere presence aboard the slave ship had convinced everyone that the crew of the Dawn of Arkanian could only be made up of the galaxy's worst scum.
But it was a groundless assumption.
For example, the female Sullustan who ascended the bridge's stairs was not always known as 'Thila'. Long ago, before the rise of the Empire, she was called Dawn Arkanian. Though less famous than her brother, the Jedi Knight Darrin Arkanian, her name still carried significance. The pseudo-slavers traveled across the galaxy aboard a ship whose name was a pun on the real name of his captain yet no Imperial ever took notice!
Brack sector, Expansion Region
The galaxy was not fully colonized or even mapped. There was a frontier area beyond the Outer Rim where the Republic, and now the Empire, sent missions to discover new habitable planets, resources, and even intelligent races.
The Brack sector was one of those areas in the process of colonization, still poorly known, and poorly mapped. Officially, this region of the cosmos included 67 inhabited planetary systems and 350 uninhabited planetary systems... unofficially, 23 inhabited but not mapped planetary systems would have to be added, including non-registered colonies and various illegal operations.
Among these 'illegal operations' was 'Futility Station'.
Formerly known as LMCTS-24542, this Modular Surface Station was installed on the surface of an unnamed moon. Equipped with various long-range sensors, its task was to detect deposits of valuable or useful minerals as well as other resources (such as tibanna gas). Except that... the team had never found anything and maintaining the station was expensive... it was therefore abandoned in its state, dismantling it being considered a useless waste of resources.
One of the survey members stationed there at the time became a Rebel and told his superiors about the forgotten lunar base. A long-abandoned survey station, preserved in perfect condition, equipped with powerful detection systems? For them this was an opportunity not to be missed, they reoccupied the station, and resupplied it before assigning it a new mission... monitors the movements of the Imperial Navy in the Brack sector.
In the brown uniform of Alliance officers, about ten individuals (not all human, since one was a Rodian, another a MonCal and a third belonged to an unidentified species, a squamous reptile with six eyes) were gathered in a narrow and long room. The walls were covered with screens and consoles with flashing light diodes, while the ceiling was a tangle of pipes and wiring.
A young blond man with a headset turned to the officer standing behind him.
"Sir, the ship is the Dawn of Arkanian"
The officer, Major Corwin Shelvay, stood up without haste. He was tall and skeletal. With his forehead showing signs of baldness starting to appear and his silver temples, he seemed to be about sixty years old... except that he was less than forty. A light-saber hung a his belt. The man was a Jedi Knight, one of the last living Jedi.
Formed by a survivor of the Order after the birth of the Empire, Corwin was captured by the Inquisition and tortured to join the Dark Side. But his master did not abandon him and even tried to deliver him. Unfortunately, he had been killed by the High Inquisitor Tremayne... and anger had overwhelmed Corwin Shelvay. He turned to the Dark Side and became powerful enough to escape...
His memory was blank on what had happened next. All he knew was that he had faced Tremayne... and had defeated him by cutting off his arm, and the right half of the inquisitor's face was now a steel plate with a cybernetic eye.
Corwin had paid dearly for his brief surrender to the Dark Side... aging more than twenty years in a matter of hours!
Corwin Shelvay activated his Comlink.
"Devon, is your junk ready to go?"
"Junk?" replied the indignant voice of Devon Fuller, a smuggler working for the Rebel Alliance. "I draw your attention that the Solar Tracker is a little marvel capable of leaving behind a stellar destroyer..."
"Is she ready to take off?" repeated Corwin with angelic patience.
"Uh yes... I just reconnected the D-5 circuit which was causing problems last time and the static compensator seems to work again."
Corwin Shelvay held Thila close.
"It's good to see you again."
Thila and Corwin were tightly linked because Thila was the sister of Darrin Arkanian... the Jedi who had taught the use of the Force to young Corwin and sacrificed himself to make him escape the Inquisition.
"What brings me the pleasure of your coming?"
"I have a Datatard to send to the Alliance HQ, it comes from the Shepherdess (1)."
"I see..." Corwin turned to a blond man, in civilian clothes, but wearing an Imperial officer's cap. "Devon, it's time to prove that the Solar Tracker is indeed the fastest ship in this sector of the galaxy."
Devon Fuller smiled widely... he even smiled on the "dead or alive" holopicture of the Imperial's most wanted list.
"I'm going to set a new record!"
"Without burning down the hyperdrive... ideally!"
"With the new modifications, no risk."
Corwin sighed with resignation.
"That's what you said last time."
During the time of the Republic, individuals like Devon Fuller became pilots of podracers. However, after the Empire banned this sport, primarily because it was associated with aliens, those who loved the adrenaline rush of flying fast turned to smuggling. They began modifying old light freighters, transforming them into machines that were as fast and unstable as podracers—just as illegals too.
Far from there (practically a galactic radius of the Expansion Zone), Rigali Shell, CoreWorlds.
This star system had no name, just an alphanumeric designation. Its sun was a dying red giant and the planets in orbit had died millions of years earlier. There were no resources worth exploiting. The only interest of this lost system was its proximity to the Hydian Way, one of the main trade routes in this part of the galaxy.
A vessel was moving at low speed, listening to radio waves and its passive sensor inspecting the surroundings.
The vessel was a Nebulon-B class escort frigate, a ship usually used by the Imperial Navy to accompany convoys of freighters crossing dangerous areas.
This ship was however an exception, its crew was formed of mutineers who had revolted against the dictatorship of Palpatine. They had been joined by pirates eager to get rich and they were currently operating as Alliance for the Restoration of the Republic's privateers.
Far Orbit, Deck7_ Docking Bay2
The hangar deck had a typical Imperial appearance, with a smooth, reflective black metal floor and walls made of pristine white-painted metal, reminiscent of an operating room. In one corner, a few boxes were stacked, while some doors led to cargo bays. There were also two Turbolifts and a Control Room with glass walls, as well as an old, battered Barloz-class freighter... that seemed anything but Imperial.
A teenager dressed in a minimalist cowgirl outfit of nearly fluorescent yellow leaned against an open maintenance hatch. Occasionally, she would stand up to retrieve something from an open tool case, allowing the Control Room technicians to admire her striking features and long black-and-red hair, which was styled in two pigtails.
Nearby, an audio player broadcasted music, specifically a techno-rock song performed by Annadale Fayde.
After a few minutes of work, Space Ishtar let out a satisfied breath as she rubbed her forehead, leaving a long streak of grease on her skin, which gleamed with sweat. She then took out her Comlink.
"Galiria?"
In the cockpit, where she was inspecting instruments, the young redheaded woman took her own Comlink to answer.
"Yes?"
"What do the instruments say?"
"Circuit A39, A37, B6: Green. The indicator light of the circuit A40 is off..."
"I'll check it out."
Ishtar leaned over the hatch to test the connections.
"It's plugged in and on, though."
"Wait..."
There was a violent noise... as Galiria used THE ultimate method to restart a recalcitrant circuit: a punch in the control panel. Whole rows of diodes went out. Even on the remote control panels, LEDs flickered, then all the lights came back on... including the A40 one."
"All Green!"
With the Comlink in hand, Ishtar addressed another member of the Jumper's crew.
"CeeNine, start the hypermotivator for a test."
R2-C9, aka CeeNine, a barrel-shaped astromech droid deployed a magnetic skid and now in motion mode approached the on-board computer, before pushing a connection pin into a circular hole.
"I'll take care of it, mistress Ishtar."
Unlike most of the R2 astromech, CeeNine had a vocabulator module allowing it to speak Basic. The connection pin turned in one direction, then in the opposite direction before...
Sheaves of sparks began to come out of the inspection hatch on which Space Ishtar was working. In the cockpit, lights flickered and the indicator lamps changed color from green to orange or red before returning to green. The screens were switched off before being reactivated, covered with a statics' snow.
Horrified, the goddess of space began to scream.
"Shut down all systems, CeeNine, power off the Hypermotivator!"
The roar that rose from the thrusters died and the electric shocks settled down. Space Ishtar looked into the trap without seeing any damage; the electrical and hydraulic circuits were intact.
"CeeNine, report the damage to me."
"All circuits are functional, no damage recorded" replied the astromech droid.
In the cockpit, Galiria had done some checking.
"No damage here either... the Jumper is a surprisingly resilient ship."
Not really, all things considered, because if Corianna Corwell had become a half-Servant by absorbing the essence of Space Ishtar, the freighter had absorbed the energy of Maanna, the spaceship of the goddess of space.
"Well, what happened?"
"I would like to know," Ishtar replied as she leaned back over the trap. The next moment she was standing up with vivacity and began to scream, rubbing her scalp with both hands.
"Crap! I screw it again!"
In the cockpit, Galiria sighed.
"What have you done?"
Suddenly shamefaced, Ishtar scratched her cheek and replied in a barely audible voice, turning her eyes away.
"I connected the A-39 positive flux conductor to the A-40 negative flux connector. Uh... it's not completely my fault. Why are these cables all black and why do the positive and negative connectors have the same end cap?"
"It's probably a test of the constructors to check that the owners have the minimum intelligence to pilot a freighter," replied mockingly the pirate girl.
Passing from embarrassment to anger in a matter of seconds, Ishtar narrowed her eyes, giving her a particularly evil look.
"Galiria, if you have something to say, please say it clearly."
"Me? I didn't say anything... you must be hearing things."
Crew Galley_Deck 4
There were four services for the three main meals of the day, the hands who were no longer on watch took turns at the tables of the canteen. The room was divided into two parts, one with rectangular tables used by mere hands and another with smaller circular tables for technicians and pilots. Officers dined at the mess on Deck 11.
Even though the spaceship was now an Alliance's Privateer, the canteen still worked like an Imperial Ship one... and it was about to become a problem.
A group of about ten Gamoreaans from the Boarding Party had just entered. They were talking in Huttese, following their leader a pig-faced colossus with green and oily skin. Several humans who were heading for this same door backed away putting their hands in front of their mouths and noses... they had just eaten and their stomachs rebelled because of the stink of the Aliens.
The reaction of the former-Imperials was immediately noticed by the Gamorreans. They were not very bright... but the disgust of humans was easy to understand even for them.
They insulted the Mutineers who did not answer because... the latter did not speak Huttese.
The left part of the room had an oval shape. The kitchen was installed here... autochefs and droids prepared dishes that even humans found tasteless and unvaried. All around the kitchen, rails made it possible to slide meal trays from the starters section to the desserts section.
It had to be understood that the Gamorrean were exclusive carnivores and they preferred to eat their prey alive...
Since their arrival, they had been increasingly reluctant to eat the human's foul food and the Mutineers' reaction of disgust had exacerbated their discontent. When they saw the main dish the Aliens went from dissatisfaction to anger, then anger to aggression...
Captain's ready Room_Deck 17
Standing in front of Dhas Vedij's desk, Baron Brock concluded his report.
"…the security team intervened and neutralized the rioters using paralyzers."
Vedij sighed and shook his head.
"What is the damage?"
"Two autochefs were destroyed, and six ASP-7 droids were damaged."
"I see…"
As Vedij pondered the situation, Brock interjected.
"Commander, please allow me to take the defense of the Gamorreans."
Vedij stood up, looking surprised.
"The situation is clear; they have ravaged the kitchens. The entire crew will be deprived of hot meals until we have repaired the damage, and according to the Ship Articles, intentional damage must be deducted from their share of the loot. They will remain in the brig until they calm down."
"Commander, the situation is not as simple as you think. Imagine being a hand on a ship whose crew is mostly composed of Gamorreans, with their 'particular' sense of hygiene, their violent tendencies, and their cooking."
Vedij turned green from nausea.
Brock nodded.
"You have just understood the problem... the menu on board is simply not suited to the needs of a good part of the crew. Commander, this is a real problem. If we do nothing, we will be in grave trouble. This would not be the first time a mutiny has broken out over a food issue. A crew's morale is in its plate."
"Mutiny? It would be more than ironic! Okay, I get it. I'll let you handle it. Exceptionally, I agree that the rioters should not pay for the damage. They can leave as soon as they have calmed down. As for food... tell them I understand the problem and give them my word that I will find a solution quickly."
"I propose that Dr. Shandar be asked to create a menu adapted to the nutritional needs of the Gamorreans."
"Good idea."
"But there's the problem of taste... I think we'll have to send the Jumper to buy more suitable food for the Aliens on one of the planets of the sector."
"The Jumper?"
"An ordinary freighter will not attract attention... we can select crew members who have no criminal record for this mission."
Vedij sighed again.
"Okay, and I guess Ishtar will be on the expedition."
"This is her ship and she's not on the wanted list."
Immediately the commander's instinct was thwarted... until then, whenever 'Space' Ishtar was concerned, a catastrophe occurred. But Borck insisted.
"Commander, this is a simple supply expedition. It should be less dangerous than an ordinary day aboard the Far Orbit. What could go wrong?"
Death Flag spotted!
As soon as Brock left, the doorbell rang again. The guard announcing another visit... Major Villak. Although Dhas Vedij dislikes the Alliance Observer, he forced himself to smile to make him feel welcome.
"Hello, major Willak. To what do I owe the honor of your compagny?"
"I just got a message from the Alliance headquarters. They're giving you a new mission."
The Far Orbit's captain crossed his hands under his chin and raised an eyebrow. It was no wonder that Villak received 'private' messages without the crew noticing, as the Rebel officer had arrived on board with a coding/decoding device he had connected to the frigate's communication system.
"I'm listening, Major."
"Someone other than me will give you instructions."
Putting on the desk a holocaster, Villak put it on. A face appeared one-quarter of its normal size, the face of an aged woman with red hair and bright eyes. The charismatic lady began to speak.
"Captain Vedij, I'm Mon Mothma Chief of State for the Alliance for the Restoration of the Republic. I take this opportunity to express our appreciation for your dedication to the Rebellion. You have provided supplies and vital equipment to the Rebels who are fighting tyranny throughout the galaxy, on behalf of the Provisional Council, I thank you."
The Rebel leader paused briefly.
"Let us now come to the reason for my call. Intelligence has informed the Alliance Headquarters that Coh Veshiv, one of the Emperor's advisors, has left Coruscant or will leave Coruscant soon. He was sent to inspect the CoreWorlds on Palpatine's orders. We know that he is aboard a CR-90 Corellian Corvette. We also know that he has no escort. However, we do not know his route. Our only certainty is that it will cross the Ringali Shell or already be there. Your mission is to capture Coh Veshiv and deliver him alive to the Alliance. I can promise you a reward of 10,000 credits. It's not much, I know. But the Alliance is poor. I know you didn't go privateer for profit. You want to fight the tyranny of Palpatine. So consider that if the financial gains are low, it will be a slap on the wrist for the Emperor. It's an opportunity to hit him directly and shake up the people's lethargy of the CoreWorlds, to show them that the Empire is neither invincible nor infallible. Tyranny can be defeated."
Mon Mothma spoke the last words with great passion, and Dhas Vedij nodded involuntarily.
"You must make the capture of Coh Veshiv your priority, Captain Vedij. May the Force be with you."
The Holocaser flickered out and Dhas Vedij turned to Cet Villak.
"Major, I accept this new mission. Nonetheless, prioritizing this task is challenging. We lack sufficient information to locate Coh Veshiv. Without more specific details, finding him will be as difficult as trying to empty the ocean with a cup. We cannot stop every CR90 we encounter."
"I understand that. May I suggest you get closer to Coruscant? If the corvette has not yet left the capital, we may have an opportunity to intercept her."
Note from the author: This chapter primarily draws from a supplement for the classic pen-and-paper RPG "Star Wars D6" published by West End Games. The "Fragments of the Outer Rim" supplement is regarded as one of the best RPG supplements ever. It serves as an incredible resource for the Star Wars universe, providing information on various planets, criminal organizations, and consortia, as well as lists of planets, two new legions of Stormtroopers, a collection of the most popular drinks of the galaxy, and musical groups and singers listened in the Star Wars galaxy... among a thousand other things.
Nearly all the characters mentioned in this chapter originate from "Fragments of the Outer Rim." Additionally, the Rebel base of Futility Station is referenced in another Star Wars RPG supplement called "Hideouts and Strongholds."
(1) Kina Margath's code name derives from her primary mission: exfiltrating the "lost sheep"—the Alliance pilots shot down in the Quence Sector. In addition to this, Kina is capable of infiltrating Rebel agents and groups of SpecForce (Alliance commandos) in important facilities thanks to her well-placed contacts. Her network also produces "authentic" identity documents.