Corellia In Flames


Corellian Engineering Corporation. Orbital Dock X5-12


“That’s a sorry sight if I’ve ever seen one.”

The words received only a long sigh in response, as the two men gazed upon the sight before them. A Praetorian-Class frigate ‘listed’ in the bay before them. The sprawling orbital docks of Corellia surrounding the craft as smaller vessels darted between it and the docking platforms reaching out from the main bulk of the dock, like fingers enclosing around the space-faring craft. Even to the naked eye, and across the deceptively vast distances between their viewing station and the dormant craft, the battle damage to the frigate was obvious. Blackened scarring from barrages that had broken through shielding and crashed against the hull of the ship itself streaked across the orange-white plate of the Republic vessel. In places, gaping wounds denoted the great misfortune of cabins which had been vented into the void as the very walls of the ship had given way. As with many such Republic craft, it had been fortunate to escape at all.

Like ants crawling over a carcass, smaller craft danced across it, and a thousand tiny pinpricks of light betrayed the position of power torches getting to work. Slowly, steadily, the Docks of Corellia were putting the Republic fleet back together.

“Not half as sorry as the amount we’re all getting paid for this.” The shorter of the two men grumbled, leaning forwards on the railing which precipitated the dizzying drop down to the planet below, turning slowly on its axis.

His taller companion made a noise that was something like a sigh, something like a grunt, before replying; “You can blame the Sith for that, Republic’s hardly holding itself up after the War, and they need their fleet back in one piece if we want to hold them off a second time.”

“Maybe ‘we’ don’t need a Republic at all, is all I’ll say to that. Corellia made its own success once.”

“Yeah, a fair few thousand years ago maybe. There’s no independence in this galaxy anymore, and grumble all you might, I’ll take the Republic over an Empire any day.” The two men stood in silence after that for some time, continuing to watch the repair works as their conversation reached an impasse. When they steadily drifted apart, it was with a finality that neither could anticipate.

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Corellia


“Colonel Malcom.” The blue-sheen presentation of the wizened Republic commander flickered on the hand-held transmitter. State-of-the art though it may have been, the small size and vast distances between them caused the odd graphical glitch all the same.

“Havoc Five, you had a matter to report?” The Colonel’s response was tense, none within Republic Command with any level of intelligence expected good news out of Corellia right now, for one of their best on-the-ground teams to be emergency reporting from the ground itself, was hardly going to be a call of ‘all’s well.’

“It’s happening Colonel, they’re pushing Secession through the Council. It’s unlikely to pass, my guy tells me it’s a statement play.” The Republic trooper stood upon a balcony jutting out from the Corellian Council Hall. The telltale white and orange plate of his armour hiding his identity, only the Havoc decal to the right side of his helm presented any true sign of identification.

“Be on guard Havoc, it might not seem it, but I’m sure the Sith are behind this sudden prominence, keep and eye on the Counci-” The communication network suddenly stuttered and died for the moment, the device working over time to attach itself to a new network, but it’s user was no longer interested in finishing his report, as he eyes drew skyward.

The sky was on fire.

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Corellian Engineering Corporation. Orbital Dock X5-12


Explosions ripped through the orbitals, shuttle craft and workers alike scrambling to avoid the sudden surge of heat and energy blossoming from various sources. It had seemed an accident at first, one of the Praetorian-Class Frigates had gone up after a detonation within it’s engine core, at first seemingly the result of damage sustained in the fighting of the war that had gone unchecked. But then another Frigate had gone up in flames, then another, and another.

Several craft had simply crashed into their docking space, annihilating smaller craft and walkways with a touch, before embedding themselves deeper and deeper into the hive-like hulls of the Corp Mechanical stations.

It was then that the announcements came.

“Sons and Daughters of Corellia! The time has come, throw off your chains! We reject the hegemony of the Republic and it’s pawns, The Engineering Corporation and the Council! It is time for Corellia to stand strong, without the leeches of the Galactic Senate! Free Corellia!”

It blasted over the alert systems, on every channel, drowning out the sounds of alarms, warnings, and incoming communications. Among the workers, while many scrambled for cover, others took up the arms of their trade, getting to work on reaching those Republic vessels at dock which had not yet been sabotaged.

As the riot and damage spread across Orbital Dock X5-12, other pinpricks of light sparked in space. Fires leaping across the other Docks. Not in such magnitude, nor such coordination, but as word spread of the X5-12 uprising, the spirit caught across the other docks. It was not long before similar pinpricks of light could be noted on the surface of the world below.

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Roughly at the same time, above Kashyyyk.


The observation deck of the Chirikyât—a Harrower-class dreadnought—was silent. Only one person was there at the present and like so many other Sith, she wore dark robes. She was Darth Theya Katherion, and she was smiling as she read the report from one of her agents on Corellia. Everything was moving according to the schedule.

She did not need to do anything for now. It was clear that the situation was perfectly under control. She put the report aside, then turned back to what she had been doing before. A dozen transport ships and a number of other warships were also in orbit above the green planet, though many sections of its surface were obscured now, some by clouds, others by smoke. Countless shuttles moved up from and down to the surface, loading up the cargo holds on the transports. Some with raw materials, others with slaves destined for work camps deep within the Empire.

Everything was as it should be. Except for the fact that the Jedi Order still existed, but that error would be dealt with eventually. But for now, few direct actions could be taken, on account of the treaty. Fortunately—she smiled to herself at the thought—there were many indirect options, like those currently being deployed on Corellia.