Private Operation Serpent's Fang

[Nos Voros]

Mission Dossier: Operation Serpent's Fang
Contractor Name: Xochicalcu
Client Name: Nos Voros
Budget: [Redacted], half upon contract acceptance, half upon mission success.
Mission Type: Raid
Location: Remote Base, Ibaar
Target Organization: Ashen Serpents
Mission Parameters: Covert or Overwhelming Force

Success Criteria: The Ashen Serpents and their operations are eliminated, and all slaves are freed without leaving any trail back to the client or mercenary.

Spoiler: Mission Dossier: Serpent's Fang

Mission Objectives
Primary Objectives:

• Gather Intelligence
  • Secure files (physical and digital) from the head office.
  • Identify and extract details of clients linked to the Hutt family.
• Liberate Slaves
  
  • Free all slaves held in the base.
    • Neutralize or disable all bloodhound-like beasts to ensure safe evacuation.
• Sabotage Infrastructure
  • Destroy or disable critical assets: armory, turret, sniper tower, and transport shuttle.
  • Render the base inoperable.

Secondary Objectives:

• Eliminate all slavers; no witnesses.
• Minimize collateral damage to avoid harming freed slaves.

Target Analysis: The Ashen Serpents
Leader: Nassar Quan
Profile: Weak Force user, unaligned. Narcissistic, cruel, and chemically dependent. Enhances strength using the Force during combat.
Weaknesses:
Vulnerable without chemical stimulants.
Likely overestimates his abilities due to his ego.
Threat Level: Moderate (enhanced melee strength, erratic behavior).
Hostile Threat Assessment:
Mid-grade weapons, no military-grade tech. Poor discipline; relies on Nassar Quan's leadership for cohesion.
Reputation for brutality; specializes in slave raids and Hutt trafficking.

Operational Environment
Base Layout:

• Slave Pens: Priority location for objective two. Guarded by slavers and bloodhound-like beasts.
• Head Office: Houses crucial files and is likely where Nassar Quan resides.
• Armory: Small to medium arms. Potential sabotage point.
• Sniper Tower: Overlooks base; primary threat to open assaults.
• Stardock: Cargo smuggling shuttle and crates present. Shuttle is a high-value target.
• Barracks: Houses gang members. Likely a priority for neutralization.
• Mess Hall: Storage of supplies; potential source for improvised explosives.
• Garage: Contains trucks and speeders, which may be used for escape or pursuit.
• Training Arena: Open area used for intimidation and punishments. Likely to have patrols.
• Defenses: Ballistic-proof walls topped with barbed wire. Single gate with key card access.

Tactical Considerations
Entry Points:

• Main Gate: High risk due to keycard access and visibility.
• Wall Breach: Use explosives or a cutting tool to breach a less-guarded segment.
• Stardock: Smuggler transport schedule may provide an opportune moment for infiltration.

Key Threats:

• Heavy Anti-Aircraft Turret: Needs to be disabled for aerial escape.
• Sniper Tower: Priority target for any overt approach.
• Bloodhound Beasts: Handle cautiously; disable handlers and secure slave pens quickly.

Exfiltration Plan

• Primary Option: Use enemy transport vehicles (trucks or shuttle) to extract freed slaves and intel.
• Secondary Option: Call for external extraction via air or ground after neutralizing anti-aircraft defenses.
• Note: Ensure the base is rendered inoperable before departure.

Spoiler: Appendix A: Base Layout Overview

• Zone 1: Command Center
  • Head Office: Location of physical and digital files.
  • Includes leader's quarters.
• Zone 2: Slave Pens
  • Holding area for captured individuals.
  • Adjacent to Beast Kennels containing bloodhound-like creatures.
• Zone 3: Armory
  • Houses small to medium-grade weapons.
  • Priority sabotage target.
• Zone 4: Barracks and Mess Hall
  • Barracks: Accommodations for gang members.
  • Mess Hall: Contains food supplies and kitchen equipment.
• Zone 5: Stardock
  • Transport Shuttle: Smuggling vessel used for trafficking.
  • Shipping Crates: Likely contain contraband or slave supplies.
• Zone 6: Training Arena
  • Open-air area for punishments and slave fights.
  • Frequently patrolled or occupied.
• Zone 7: Sniper Tower
  • Central location overlooking the entire base.
• Zone 8: Vehicle Garage
  • Vehicles: Cargo trucks and speeders used for local transport.
• Zone 9: Defenses
  • Anti-Aircraft Turret: Positioned to deny aerial access

Spoiler: Appendix B: Personnel File

*Appendix B: Personnel File *

Subject: Nassar Quan
Alias: The Chem-Blade Tyrant
Affiliation: Ashen Serpents (Leader)
Known Associates: Various slavers, mercenaries, and Hutt clientele (specific connections pending further intel).

---

#### Physical Description

• Species: Human
• Age: Approx. 34 standard years
• Height: 6’2” (1.88m)
• Build: Thin, wiry frame; visibly malnourished but deceptively strong under Force-enhancement.
• Appearance:

- Hollow cheeks and gaunt features.
- Scarred face, possibly self-inflicted during episodes of addiction-fueled rage.
- Pale skin with bloodshot eyes, indicative of heavy chemical dependency.
- Often seen wearing a patchwork outfit blending tactical armor and tattered robes, evoking both authority and fear among his gang.

---

#### Psychological Profile

• Traits: Narcissistic, sadistic, erratic.
• Leadership Style:

- Rules through fear and intimidation, frequently using public punishment to maintain control.
- Displays surprising charisma when dealing with high-value clients, especially members of the Hutt syndicates.
- Weaknesses:
- Highly addicted to combat stimulants ("Red Haze"), leading to unpredictable behavior.
- Overconfident, often underestimates opponents due to his Force abilities and reputation.

---

#### Combat Assessment
- Force Affinity: Weak but highly focused in physical augmentation.
- Known to use the Force to temporarily increase his strength and stamina during combat.
- No documented use of offensive Force abilities such as telekinesis or mind control.
- Primary Weapon:
- A serrated vibroblade infused with chemical toxins, designed to inflict excruciating pain and prolonged suffering.
- Tactics:
- Prefers close-quarters combat where he can leverage his enhanced strength.
- Often relies on his underlings to weaken or overwhelm opponents before entering the fray.

---

#### Operational Relevance
- Role in the Ashen Serpents:
- Founder and undisputed leader of the gang.
- Mastermind behind the group's collaboration with the Hutts, orchestrating slave raids and trafficking operations across multiple systems.
- Notable Activities:
- Personally involved in the raid on Ranthuma, and nearby planets, resulting in the capture of over 300 individuals sold into slavery.
- Known for his "Trial of Blades," a gruesome arena spectacle where captured slaves are forced to fight for their lives.

---

Base-Level Threat Analysis
- Strengths:
- Unwavering loyalty from his gang, rooted in fear and his physical dominance.
- Mid-grade equipment and extensive local knowledge of Ibaar's terrain.
- Weaknesses:
- Chem addiction leaves him vulnerable to prolonged engagements or surprise attacks.
- His gang lacks discipline and strategic coordination without his direct oversight.

---

#### Tactical Notes
1. Eliminating Nassar Quan:
- Best approached during periods of withdrawal or when separated from his gang.
- Exploiting his overconfidence in his abilities could lure him into traps or overextend his resources.

2. Countermeasures for his Vibroblade:
- Avoid prolonged melee combat; the blade’s toxins are fatal without proper medical treatment.
- Disarming him early in combat significantly reduces his threat level.

3. Engaging in Combat:
- Ranged combat is advised; Nassar’s Force abilities do not extend to deflection or telekinesis.
- Exploit his dependency on stimulants—damaging his supply could limit his combat effectiveness.

---

#### Final Assessment
Nassar Quan represents a significant threat as both a combatant and an organizer of slave trafficking operations. Neutralizing him will not only destabilize the Ashen Serpents but also send a powerful message to their Hutt allies. His elimination should b
e prioritized, but his unpredictability demands careful planning and execution.

 

[Nos Voros]

PRELUDE: SERPENT'S FANG

Outfit: Clothing/Armor
Weapons: Heavy Blaster Pistol | Vibroknife | Loadouts in bio

Nos sat at the cantina, ordering the first thing he saw on the drink menu as he dropped the manilla envelope with the mission dossier in the Booth's table before him.

Physical documents, all digital traces except for a thoroughly redacted personal contract between him and the merc to ensure payment through proper channels. If this all went to hell, at least this evidence could be burnt.

He read the name of the contractor once more: Xochicalcu , a mercenary who was likely to be just as invested in this particular gang as Nos was. The Zeltron cared little for the Ashen Serpents specifically, but recent Intel gathered about their most recent employer had a few familiar names. People Nos had seen when he himself was captive. If all goes well, this could be the start of a trail of Intel to clear his slavecatcher bounty and rid the galaxy of scum along the way.

The waitress brought over his drink, and Nos sipped, scanning over the documents he prepared one final time. He did not taste it, only tasting the anticipation of his chance to strike back, an effort years in the making.

Lady Sylvia Organa wouldn't need to know the specifics. He was allowed to use personal time off as he saw fit. Stopping slavers was a good thing in the public image, and if that's all she knew, even better. Whatever happens on Ibaar, stays on Ibaar as far as she needed to know.

Nos focused his breathing awaiting the hired muscle.

Xochicalcu | Alexa Keel​

 

[Xochicalcu]

Equipment : Blaster
Location : Cantina
Objective : Make contact

His work colleague at the fighting pits, Orry, had hooked him up with this particular job, and he trusted the young Twi'lek, so he'd taken the contact up as a way to make some credits doing what he knew how to do. The rumour that they might be going up against slavers was enough to entice him, as his friend had known when she'd steered the job his way. Wearing a simple pair of black trousers and a black vest, he barged into the cantina, spotting the Zeltron he was here to meet.

Xochi approached the table and stopped still, looking down at the seated man. I hear you've got work. He said, as his breath mask hissed. The tone was neutral, non threatening. He wore a blaster on his hip, but kept his hands well away from it. I'm a professional, his actions said. His green eyes pored over the man he was here to meet, and began to note the documents on the table. Yes, this was a serious person. All to the good.

Waiting to be asked to sit down, he studied the contact, wondering what the job really entailed. If the man knew his business he already knew who Xochicalcu was, and why he was here. An intelligence type certainly would, he didn't get the military vibe from this one, but it was too early to tell for sure. He just had guesses.

It was time to get down to business, find out the job, and get things done.

Nos Voros
​

 

[Nos Voros]

PRELUDE: SERPENT'S FANG

Outfit: Clothing/Armor
Weapons: Heavy Blaster Pistol | Vibroknife | Loadouts in bio

The first contact was here. The mercenary - Xochicalcu - he certainly was a big guy.

Nos casually motioned to the seat across from him, inviting the bruiser to sit. As much as Nos liked to be prepared, he was technically off-duty, so the motion was a bit more lazy than what would be proper etiquette. This wasn't a briefing room, it was refreshing not needing to act like it was.

“Xochicalcu, or a very talented impersonator, I presume? Nos Voros” the Zeltron extended his hand in greeting, using the other to flag down the waitress to get service for the man.

“We may have a third interested party in assisting this raid - a woman by the name of Alexa Keel ” Nos said as he slid the operation dossier over to the mercenary. “She's not a merc, but one of those principled types. Has a real knack for taking out criminals. I've only heard of her by reputation, but a friend of mine pulled a few strings and extended her an invitation. We'll see if she shows.”

Nos sipped the amber liquid and leaned back. “Luckily for both us and her, our target happens to be among the lowest of the low. the second attachment in the folder has all the info on him I could pull”

Nos gave the merc time to read and look over the documents, occasionally scanning to see if anyone that matched his record on Alexa Keel arrived.

Xochicalcu | Alexa Keel​

 

[Xochicalcu]

Equipment : Blaster
Location : Cantina
Objective : Follow the clues

Xochicalcu ambled across and sat himself down across from Nos in the offered seat, relaxing into the booth. He took the offered hand. Nos. You can call me Hoot. It was easier to say than Xochicalcu Huitzilopochtli, after all. He listened, nodding as Nos explained the details and took the offered dossier, beginning to look through it carefully, taking in the details.

It was immediately clear that not only were the targets the sort of scum the galaxy was better rid of, but the mention of Ranthuma fairly leapt off the page at Xochi and slapped him across the face. There was an immediate change that came over the big man. He went from relaxed and interested, to laser focused and professional. A clue. A karking clue to what happened to his family! Nothing would get in his way.

A server came past and Xochi ignored, though he'd intended to order a drink, now he couldn't have cared less about drinks or food. The mission became his only concern. He took his time with the documents, burning the important and pertinent facts into his mind. Thoughts of the mission, and what he might want and need flew through his brain. One blaster was not going to cut it. He'd need to pick up some more weaponry.

More blasters on our side is good. Pay? Xochicalcu commented and asked, pretending to care about the credits. In truth he'd sign on for nothing now he saw a chance at tracking down the people that had burned his home, twice, killed his parents, killed his wife, taken his children as slaves. That chance was all the remuneration he could ever want. Eagerly he devoured the dossiers and details on their soon to be target. It had been years since he'd had even a remote chance, or a hint. Desperate, he had found something, however flimsy, to lock in on and cling to.

Nos Voros Alexa Keel
​

 

[Alexa Keel]

Alexa stepped into the cantina. Normally she would be in uniform for a meeting with potential leads. But this was off the books. Technically she wasn’t even supposed to be there, and was skirting the bylaws to be there. She’d taken some leave, saying she would visit her father back home for a month in order to be here instead. Something that, if discovered, could get her some disciplinary treatment.

But she didn’t care. This was the entire purpose for her presence in her unit to begin with, it was a matter of principle, not rules.

So unlike the usual military attire one would expect from her she opted for a more casual, civilian look. One that would often be seen in cantinas like this. A loose tee shirt and shorts, a pair of running shoes, and a pistol on her hip for self defense. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail to keep it out of her face, and her amber eyes began to scan the place for her contact. Pink skinned humanoids weren’t hard to spot, so it wasn’t that long before she began making her way over to the table where the two were sitting.

“Pardon me Gentlemen.” She said politely as she took a seat. “Nos Voros? Alexa Keel. I apologize for my tardiness.”

---

Nos Voros Xochicalcu

 

[Nos Voros]

BRIEFING: SERPENT'S FANG

Outfit: Clothing/Armor
Weapons: Heavy Blaster Pistol | Vibroknife | Loadouts in bio

“Hoot it is”, Nos replied. He indicated 3 glasses while silently mouthing the word ‘water’ to the waitress as the merc took the bait.

Bait was perhaps the wrong word. He could feel the strong emotion radiating from Hoot. This was just as personal, moreso for him that it was for Nos. Nos wasn't here to manipulate emotion for a discount, he needed someone who wouldn't stab him in the back for a bigger paycheck - and an opener like this with healthy working relationship and fair pay ought to do the trick.

Upon Hoot’s question of payment, Nos pulled up the contract financials on his datapad for the merc to review. The price should be fair, a market rate for a base raid of this size, though it wouldn't be split amongst an entire crew but just one man - should sizeable payout for Hoot.

“Half up front upon contract signature, and the other half upon objective completion and exfiltration. As typical, if you go down and the missions is still successful payment will be forwarded to any next of kin you have on file.”

Nos considered how far he could stretch his clemency with Sylvia before continuing:
“If you need any off-market gear purchased to prepare I might be able to pull a few strings as well, but no guarantees on that end.”

As the waitress set down the three glasses of water, a woman entered the cantina, spotting Nos and Hoot quickly. If not for the holster and posture of disciplined training, Nos almost wouldn't have recognized her from his Intel, the casual clothing providing a stark contrast from the ID mugshot he had to go by.

“Pardon me Gentlemen.” She said politely as she took a seat. “Nos Voros? Alexa Keel. I apologize for my tardiness.”

“No apology necessary, Ms. Keel,” Nos said, careful to avoid indicating any rank, assuming that her casual attire and emotional reading meant she preferred to be ID’ed as a civilian if the three of them were seen together. “we were just discussing Hoot’s contract - if anything you're right in time.”

Nos scooted aside, making room in the booth as Xochicalcu’s shoulders were large enough to take up the other side almost entirely - though admittedly reading a file was easier from the same side of the table. Well, not Nos’s problem if she wanted to squeeze in beside the merc, but his blood was running hot. There must have been more to his connection to Ranthuma than Nos had on file.

“I'm glad you could make it. Assuming the payment and conditions are satisfactory to Mr. Hoti… Holti… Hoot, then we’re all set to talk shop.”

Nos supposed he should formerly introduce himself. If these people were willing to risk their lives for a cause as this they should at least know who they fight alongside.
"As you both know, My name is Nos Voros. Officially im with Galactic Alliance Security, Senatorial Secret Service. I am, however, off duty. As such, this job is not officially recognized by the Senate as anything other than a personal request. This means we can't expect backup, but we also don't need to worry about jurisdiction or restrictions in method." This was all fluff, just verifying his identity in case they had any doubts about his honesty if they had done their research.

This next part would make or break the trust he hoped to establish. He chose his words carefully to convey the truth and his stake in the job, but without letting any emotion diminish his reliability in the field.
"I am also a runaway slave 7 years missing. My deed is still active outside of Alliance space and the reward for my recapture was not set to expire. This leads me to the purpose why I've set aside the credits for of my contract with you, Hoot. Intel suggest my former owners have made purchases from the Ashen Serpents recently. Those transactions should have have details on them, but like any half witted criminal organization, that data is stored in their office database and secure."

Nos leaned in, resting his elbows on the table, "The sabotage of the Ashen Serpents' operations is equally valuable to me, but I need that Intel and the captives freed, otherwise we could simply blow the place to Bogan. So our objective is threefold: secure data from the office, rescue the slaves, and render the base and the Ashen Serpents inoperable."

Looking to both Alexa and Xochi with determination in his eyes and radiating telepathically, Nos concluded, "So, knowing all this, are you in or out?"

Xochicalcu | Alexa Keel​

 

[Xochicalcu]

Equipment : Blaster
Location : Cantina
Objective : Meet the team

Alexa. He greeted the woman as she joined them, on first glance she seemed very capable. The mission and rules of engagement as described and laid out by Nos lined up perfectly with Xochicalcu's own interests, and he was more than ready to commit. I'm in. He reached across the table to offer his hand, looking with his green eyes into Nos's. No doubt the other man would be able to read the seriousness in his look.

Nos had been very up front and open with them about the contract, and the big man respected that honesty. He'd repay it with loyalty and professionalism. Already his mind was transforming from that of the pit fighter he was now into the guerilla commander he had once been. In his mind, he was not going on a job, he was going to war. His war, the only one that mattered to him. It was a stroke of luck that the mission completely aligned with what he himself needed to do. To find out what had happened to his children. To repay those responsible.

He had some thoughts already to the requests he might make. He needed more weapons. His own trust heavy blaster would serve just fine, but going up against a group like the Ashen Serpents, he wanted a small arsenal to himself. Part of that was efficiency, and part was because he had the urge to do some damage to the enemy he'd sworn to hunt down no matter the cost. He contained his anger with cold focus, mind moving to the need for supplies and ammunition.

The list grew in the back of his mind as he let it race, dealing with potential scenarios and the concepts of solutions to anticipated problems. Body armour, heavy weapon, compact backup, probably a shotgun, explosives. Xochicalcu still recalled how to construct his own charges and fuses, and he'd build his package himself once he acquired the necessaries. Once they'd shaken on the deal Xochicalcu would force himself to sit back in his chair and try to relax. He already wanted to be on mission, going after the rescue, and the information, and the potential revenge. Xochi was a man of few words, and his mind was all business from here on in, even if that made him seem unfriendly, it was nothing personal.

Nos Voros Alexa Keel
​

 

[Alexa Keel]

Alexa listened closely to Nos as he spoke. The details of the mission were explained. His history and motivations were explained. His Mathis for being here were explained, and were strikingly similar to her own when she heard it. She had in fact done a little bit of research before coming, she nearly fallen for one of theses as bait for a trap once upon a time and she wouldn’t make that same mistake. So he confirmed his identity and clarified a few things.

She had no reason to doubt him.

“Understood. I have plenty of my own equipment, so you won’t need to outfit me.” Alexa told him. “All I need from you is the time and the place.”

---

Nos Voros Xochicalcu

 

[Nos Voros]

PLANNING: SERPENT'S FANG

Outfit: Clothing/Armor
Weapons: Heavy Blaster Pistol | Vibroknife | Loadouts in bio

As soon as the handshake completed, Nos signed off on the initial transfer of credits. Nos would purchase his own gear and add anything within reason on Hoot's list he could at that time. Hoot was precisely the type of ally he'd need on this hunt.

Alexa’s projected confidence and grew as each detail was confirmed. Things looked promising, he'd managed to assuage her unspoken suspicions.

Of course, no plan survives contact with the enemy.​

Nos pulled out a blurry printout of the base’s layout from the second appendix in the folder.

“Excellent. If you take a look here, this is the landing pad they use for smuggling slaves on and off planet - supplies they purchase from a settlement a few hours away by land vehicle. Directly next to the starport is their anti-air cannon. Just the one, but it’s enough limit our infiltration options. The primary other locations I want to draw your attentions to are the Head office where our Intel is, and the kennels where the slaves are kept.”

Nos swallowed furrowed his brow at that last sentence.

“We could either land in this valley in the mountains - it's low enough to clear any scanners they have but we would have to hoof it a few hours to the base and confiscate one of their vehicles for a ride back, or we make our way to the settlement and catch a ride in one of their own trucks, but both options have some unique challenges with how we handle the captives and exfiltration.”

Nos turned to the others and concluded; “of course, I may not have accounted for everything. You both have a broader range of experience and I gladly welcome your input on our approach.”

Xochicalcu | Alexa Keel​

 

[Xochicalcu]

Equipment : Blaster
Location : Cantina
Objective : Plot the job

Xochi liked the way Alexa spoke, and he liked her attitude even more. No nonsense. Capable. And very likely deadly to their enemies, a companion he would be pleased to work with. He looked her way and nodded, meeting her eyes in approval at her words.

The old man's mind followed along as Nos laid out the location and what they were likely to be going into. Already the fragments of a plan began to take shape for Xochicalcu. The landing pad would be useful for extracting the freed slaves. If they infiltrated the facility they could disable the one anti air cannon before they brought their ship in. He didn't mind getting dirty or walking a few miles through the rough terrain, especially if it meant the element of surprise.

The facility itself wasn't prohibitively large to the former guerilla's mind. Their team of three operatives could hit hard and fast, exfil and even potentially blow the place on the way out. He could fashion up enough demolitions to blow the place sky high once they were done. The anti air cannon would be a problem, but they could jam it, disable it, its power source, or just wreck it. It was one target and they knew where it was. The problem would be the Ashen Serpents. Whatever numbers and firepower the slaver bastards brought to the party was the X factor that he didn't know.

But, this wasn't his show. This was Nos's operation. He was not in command. Makes sense to go in quiet, take them by surprise. Land our ship right on top of them once we've freed the slaves and get out. He paused, letting his breath mask hiss. I think we should split up, divide our objectives. Xochi counted them off on his fingers. Take out the gun. Free the slaves. Grab the intel. Three operatives, three objectives, which worked out nicely as far as the old man was concerned. He waited to see if his suggestion was accepted or not. Thats all it was, a suggestion.

To his mind, they should go in quiet for as long as that lasted. One could take down the anti air cannon. One could free the slaves. One could grab the intel. Xochi would freelance setting his demolition charges while he worked, however they approached the mission. For now, he was of the mind that he was hired muscle, and would go with Nos's call. Command on military style operations needed to be absolutely clear. Arguing under fire was dumb, and dumb got you dead.

Nos Voros Alexa Keel
​

 

[Nos Voros]

Spoiler: Vignette: Nassar Quan, Fang of the Ashen Serpents

Nassar Quan leaned back in his tattered, faux-leather chair, the faint creak of its worn frame echoing through the dimly lit confines of his office. His eyes, bloodshot and feral, scanned the room before settling on the datapad resting on the desk before him. The glow from the screen cast jagged shadows across his gaunt face, accentuating the hollows of his cheeks and the twisted smirk tugging at his cracked lips.

The datapad contained inventory tallies, payment ledgers, and a coded list of upcoming shipments. Each line was a reminder of his dominion—a sprawling web of cruelty stretching across the sector. With a lazy swipe of his finger, he dismissed the numbers. They bored him. What thrilled him wasn’t the business; it was the power. The knowledge that dozens of lives—slaves, subordinates, and enemies—were his to crush or discard at will.

Outside, the rain hammered against the reinforced transparisteel window, streaking the view with shimmering trails of water. Beyond the distorted pane, the compound was alive with activity. The training arena glowed faintly in the misty night, its crude energy barriers crackling as the bloodhound beasts snarled and snapped at their handlers. Beyond that, the barracks spilled raucous laughter into the air, the slavers inside gambling away their credits and sanity in equal measure.

Nassar sneered.
Fools, the lot of them. But fools who obeyed.
The Ashen Serpents weren’t a military unit—they were scavengers, predators scraping at the fringes of galactic order. Under his rule, they were a weapon - and weapons didn’t need to think; they just needed to hit hard enough.

He stood, his wiry frame unfolding like a serpent uncoiling, and crossed the room to a cabinet. Inside, among scattered vials of Red Haze and half-empty bottles of Corellian whiskey, lay his vibroblade. The weapon hummed faintly as he drew it, its serrated edge catching the dull light. He ran a finger along its toxin reservoir, feeling the subtle warmth of the chemical cocktail within.

Tonight, he’d make an example. A slave had faltered during their last cargo run—a Twi’lek who dared collapse under the weight of a crate. Nassar would make certain none of the others entertained the thought of disobedience.

As he strode out into the night, the rain cooled his feverish skin, though it did little to calm the manic energy coursing through his veins. The compound smelled of damp earth and acrid smoke, with undertones of sweat and fear wafting from the pens. He loved that smell. It reminded him of his control, his supremacy.

The slavers gathered quickly when he arrived at the arena, their jeers and whistles dying as his thin form stepped into the circle of light. The slave was already there, trembling, flanked by two enforcers who shoved him forward. The crowd tensed, their drunken haze clearing at the sight of Nassar’s blade.

The leader of the Ashen Serpents tilted his head, studying the man like a predator sizing up its prey. “Weakness,” Nassar said, his voice thin but laced with venom, “is a disease. And I am the cure.”

As the rain hissed against the energy barriers, Nassar raised his blade, his scarred face splitting into a grin that was equal parts glee and malice. Above, thunder rolled through the mountains, masking the first scream.

 

[Alexa Keel]

Alexa inspected the printout of the base, looking over the extraction of the slaves first and foremost. And considering the logistical aspect of getting them out of there safely. She was a reasonably experienced commander, and she knew that these kinds of people were liable to panic amidst a rescue, and that could have disastrous consequences for not just the slaves themselves but also their rescuers.

“What sort of extraction vessel do we have available? How long do we have to get the slaves aboard? And is there a way we could move the slaves aboard without opening their cages?” Alexa asked quietly. She had a feeling this last question might have negative implications, but it needed to be asked. She was a practical woman. If they could be moved while in the cages still it would reduce the likelihood of disaster by disorganization, and they could always be freed from their cages either in transit or upon arrival to their destination.

---

Nos Voros Xochicalcu

 

[Nos Voros]

OPERATION START: SERPENT'S FANG

Outfit: Clothing/Armor
Weapons: Heavy Blaster Pistol | Vibroknife | Loadouts in bio

Nos trudged through the mud away from his dropoff descending into the valley, Approaching the compound from around the western peak.

“This is N.V. I have visual on the nest. What's your status?” he spoke into the commlink, checking his two allies.

He pulled the hood over his head and tighter around the shoulders. The drizzle of rain wasn’t freezing, but it felt damn close. He continued slowly down the slope. As much as he wanted to complain, the environmental conditions did favor their approach, the rain covering his steps and the mud providing additional camouflage.

The faint shimmer of rain reflects off jagged cliff faces, their surfaces carved by centuries of relentless wind and weather. Distant thunder echoes through the mountains, amplifying the eerie stillness of the terrain. Sparse vegetation clings desperately to the rocky soil, their dark outlines barely visible in the dim light filtering through the storm clouds. The air is thin and carries a metallic tang, likely from the nearby mineral deposits.

On the horizon, the Ashen Serpents’ compound emerged as a series of dim, artificial lights cutting through the mist—a stark contrast against the wilderness surrounding it. The soft glow from their sniper tower acting as a grim beacon, both signal of the danger waiting ahead and lighthouse to his target. The valley itself shimmers with anticipation, its streams rushing with icy water, carving paths through the unforgiving stone and reflecting the lights of the compound.

Nos slowly crawled through the cold mud as he got closer, at least until the ferrocrete outer wall could hide him from view. He circled the base, overhearing chatter from within, no sign of alert from Hoot or Alexa - yet, at least.

Nos primed his Rider Ascension Pistol, aiming his grappling gun to the second story of the office building. He waited. At the next peal of lightning, the next rumble of thunder, or any blast from the others, he would fire and reel himself to the office rooftop, then prepare fire support if necessary.

Nice and easy now, the patient hunter gets the prey.

Xochicalcu | Alexa Keel​

 

[Xochicalcu]

Equipment : M-32 repeater, ACPA, Laser Cutlass, Heavy Blaster Pistol, Bag of explosives
Location : Ibaar
Objective : Get in quiet, take down the AA gun.

Xochi didn't talk much on the ride in, even less than usual. His focus was on the mission, and what he'd need to do. The ride in wasn't uncomfortable, and didn't take too long. The old habits came back, and it became just another job. He'd acquired some new tools before they had set out, and he'd spent the time available familiarizing himself with the equipment. It wasn't his way to take a weapon into battle until he could take it apart or close enough, and with his eyes closed. In addition to his breath mask, he wore combat fatigues, all black, with a black tactical vest and belt webbing. He'd opted not to go for armour and a helmet, preferring what he was more familiar with.

The M-32 was a rugged light repeating blaster rifle, which Xochi had modified to his own liking, shortening the barrel and stock and adding sights, carried in his hands, supported by a tight sling. Strapped to the back of his tactical vest was an ACP Array Gun, an energy weapon that functioned like a shotgun as a secondary. He carried his old trusty heavy blaster pistol as a matter of course at his belt, along with his laser cutlass that he wielded in the fighting arena. In addition to the weapons, he'd spent some time acquiring components for explosives, assembling several different types in various sizes with variable blast radius and yield, and these he carried in a satchel on a sling.

Outfitted as a commando or a guerilla for the first time in many years, felt a little strange, but the mindset never went away. This mission was just a team deathmatch in the fighting pits, but with blasters. The planet itself was nothing too extreme, and the only real obstacle in the team's way was the distance they'd need to cover.

In no time at all, mentally, he was back in the jungle on Ranthuma as a guerilla. It was his side or their side, and his side had to win, no matter what. The weight of the M-32 in his hands felt reassuring, as it always had. Grimly, silently, Xochicalcu walked onward, carefully but determined with a regular pace, eyes up, alert and aware of everything around him.

He didn't know Nos Varad or Alexa Keel very well, however he was willing to extend them trust to cover their end for their own interests. There was much in mutual interest, and little reason for any of them to betray the other. And Xochicalcu didn't get a negative read on either of his companions, or he might have countenanced walking away from the job. But now the job wasn't a potential or a theoretical anymore, they were in bandit country, they had work, and work got done professionally.

It made good sense to keep things quiet as long as possible. Xochi had two comlinks, one on a closed circuit for Nos and Alexa, and a second that would contact his ship, the Star Turtle, a Lethisk-class armed freighter piloted by his trusty pilot droid, B1-P1, known as B.P. Nos, Alexa, Xochicalcu and the freed slaves would all get a ride on the Star Turtle when it came time to leave. Not seeing the sense in waiting around, the big man got on with the trek as soon as he was out of the ship.

The compound was ahead, and the old man took in his targets, visible above the high wall. The sniper tower, and the AA turret. The approach would not be easy, but easy was not for Xochicalcu. The gates were guarded and required keycard access, which hinted to the old soldier that he'd be relatively unimpeded once he was inside the wall. So he kept it simple, scaled the wall, weaved his large bulk through the barbed wire atop it, and dropped down as softly as he could to the ground on the inside.

There were guards inside the compound too, but they were all looking outward, and those inside the walls were unaware and not alert to the presence of an interloper in their presence. By using the buildings and other equipment as cover, the big man snuck closer toward his first target, the building that the AA gun sat atop. Xochi slipped a hand mirror on an extended probe from a pocket, and stood beside the door to the building, then hit the access panel. Through the crack in the door, he caught a reflection of the room and did a headcount before pulling back out of sight. Only two.

Xochi tried a bluff, entering brazenly. One of the two in the room, a merc toting a blaster rifle, looked at him, while the other was sat down at a console, facing away. Making as if he were going to prank the other soldier, Xochi smiled and motioned shush to the merc, and read the other man's body language relaxing. Just a fellow merc pulling a prank. No threat. Just the assumption he had been going for. Easily Xochi closed the range behind the sitting man, while the standing merc came up beside him, ostensibly to share in the joke.

Unfortunately, the joke was on them. At such close range, it was simple to smoothly draw his cutlass which ignited its blazing laser blades so quietly the sound was like a puff of wind, and silently take down the standing merc, and then kill the sitting one, before the standing man hit the floor.

With the room to himself, and thanks to the laser knife, no blood to clean up, the big man took the time to conceal the bodies behind a corner desk, and then planted several concealed explosives around the floor and walls, each with a remote detonator. His remotes worked on a dual frequency, just in case of enemy jamming. Now he could take down the AA gun at any time he chose. With no more to do there, Xochi made his way out back into the base, to look for more places to secrete his explosive surprises. He laid several more charges on building support structures as he slowly crossed the compound, heading for the Sniper Tower. He had another idea...

X here. Im inside. Two down in the AA building. Moving to the tower.

He clicked the comm back off, listening in through an earpiece where he could hear both channels.

Body Count : 2
Two guards in the AA building, killed with laser cutlass.

Nos Voros Alexa Keel
​

 

[Alexa Keel]

Equipment : M-117 Armor (Forest Camo), M-14 DMR, M-2 SMG, M-19 Sidearm
Location : Ibaar
Objective : Clear hostile overwatch, provide friendly overwatch, cover slave extraction

It was showtime.

This wasn’t the usual dive she was used to. Usually for operations like this, sanctioned ones anyway, she and a host of her comrades would load into drop pods and be launched to the surface from their orbital support frigate The Herald of Liberty and would take the entire facility by storm.

But this wasn’t a sanctioned op. She wasn’t supposed to be here. And she didn’t have a whole company of troopers with her to help take this place. She had two others with dubious qualifications. A former guerilla, and a security officer, not exactly professional soldiers even if they did know how to handle themselves. She had a lot of faith in X in particular despite this, guerillas had a tendency to make up in experience and creativity what they lacked in professional training. Nos was a little more of an unknown, but she had the impression that he’s run ops like this before, and had no real reason to doubt his capabilities.

She had landed a significant distance away from the complex, like the rest of her team had. She hefted her slugthrower DMR and began to march. Her choice of weapon a practical one. A blaster wasn’t altogether that stealthy, and a slugthrower could be suppressed so it couldn’t be heard at a great distance, and its projectiles, unlike blasters, couldn’t be visually seen. So it would let her pick off their guard towers from a distance, covering herself and her team in doing so, without being noticed very early.

And this is precisely what she did, upon coming within 800 meters of the facility, she began meticulously picking off the guards in the towers, before finally making her approach.

“A.K. Calling in. Overwatch has been cleared. Proceeding into the facility.”

---

Nos Voros Xochicalcu

 

[Nos Voros]

OPERATION: SERPENT'S FANG

Outfit: Clothing/Armor
Weapons: Heavy Blaster Pistol | Vibroknife | Loadouts in bio

Nos overlooked the compound, prone atop the office. Hoot had the A.A. charges in place and had infiltrated the Sniper’s nest without drawing alarm. Alexa’s silent shots were heralded only by the crimson mist as each solid projectile took out a sentry looking over the sides of the walls.

Smooth sailing so far, no signs of alert. Time to get the Intel.

Nos reinforced the the grappling shot with a knot around a climate control unit, keeping one end of the rope with him as he used a small cutter to slice through the simple latch on a skylight. Placing his vibroknife in his mouth, he peeked within to confirm nobody was present. A hallway, nothing but a dead potted plant and two doors. He could feel intense emotion from deeper within. Bloodlust and euphoria. The leader, Nassar Quan, must be indulging in his supply of Red Haze.

Nos gripped the lip of the skylight and with a slow, deliberate movement he leaned forward, curling into the building and extending himself as low as he could befor letting go, dropping the cord so he could exfiltrate the way he entered. He quickly knelt near the closest of the two doors, placing an expanding wedge to jam it shut until he was ready to clear that section. Nos rose and made for the other door of the hallway opened, a surprised hrakian man made eye contact mid-bite of whatever snack he had grabbed.

There was a pregnant pause as they both unpacked the situation and decided on the best course of action. The ganger drew his blaster. Nos threw his knife.

The vibroknife pierced to the hilt, slipping between the hrakian’s ribcage with a well placed throw, narrowly avoiding compromising himself to the entire compound with the sound of a blaster firing.

Nos rushed into the open door, retrieving the knife from the hrakian’s chest and was met with two more humanoid slavers, one armed with a shock baton, the other. . . A frying pan, hot oil still sizzling from whatever meal Nos had interrupted.

Nos kicked an end table into the knees of the pan-brandisher, lifting his forearms to block a blow from the shock stick, its current arcing into him and causing his muscles to seize temporarily. As the slaver with the baton pressed forward with a back swing, Nos fell to his back, hooking his opponent with a knee and heel, tripping the baton-holder with him.

Nos wrestled with the man, getting him to a pin and freeing his knife hand just before leaning back suddenly to dodge a searing frying pan aimed at his head, instead leaving a circular red welt on the pinned slaver.

The cursing and shouting from the brawl was going to draw attention, Nos had to move. A stab with the vibroknife ended the pinned slaver with the baton. Without withdrawing the blade, Nos kept like a spring uncoiled, striking the forearm and wrist of the cook, disarming him and manipulating him into a stranglehold. The chef was deceptively strong, and was pulling back at the Zeltron’s arm, fighting the chokehold, buying time that Nos couldn't afford.

Nos shifted his weight, turning the attempted headlock into a hip throw, tossing the chef onto the hot plate. The screaming and cursing already had others banging on the wedged door in the hallway. Nos turned to withdraw his vibroknife from the dead slaver as the chef scrambled off the stovetop, only to be hamstrung and bled from the neck the moment they hit the ground. Nos let the vibration of the knife clean itself, a pink mist revealing the shining metal underneath. Break room. Dead end.

Taking cover by the hallway, Nos readied a stun grenade. If a single person on the other side of the wedged door had a blaster, this could go poorly - Nos was gambling that office rec area was the poorly guarded and that the slavers would soon have much larger concerns than a brawl in the kitchen.

The bloodthirsty emotion he sensed grew closer, now eager.

Nassar was drawn to the commotion.

Xochicalcu | Alexa Keel​

 

[Xochicalcu]

Equipment : M-32 repeater, ACPA, Laser Cutlass, Heavy Blaster Pistol, Bag of explosives
Location : Ibaar
Objective : Take down remaining guards in the tower

Crossing the compound was made far easier thanks to Alexa's sniper fire, precisely aimed, and silent, she dropped the guards watching from the towers, and that lowered the number of enemy eyes who might spy the large man sneaking through their base. Xochicalcu didn't yet have eyes on either of his two teammates, but they were on comms if necessary. The bad weather and the dim lighting helped with the sneaking. These assholes weren't expecting trouble, and that was their hard luck.

The base of the sniper tower held another door, and Xochi infiltrated after checking with his mirror that the way was clear. Seeing no one in the first room, he moved inside, trying to flick the water off his boots as he entered so as not to show signs of his passage. With the room cleared, he took to the task of placing charges. He'd put several down and was moving to go up to the second level when a click alerted him too late to his danger.

Don't move nerf herder. He felt the poke of the barrel of a blaster in his back. Xochi held still, but looked down at his feet, allowing his peripheral vision to pick up the man behind him. A man who was standing too close, which told the former guerilla that he didn't know his business. Hands up. Xochi complied, almost wincing at how loud the barve's voice was. The kark you doing here? Xochicalcu didn't move, didn't answer. Turn around! Hoping like hell the guard's voice did not carry and bring others, the big man slowly turned around keeping his hands up. Say something! Slowly, Xochi moved a hand to point to the breath mask over his mouth and nose; implying that he was unable to speak. His intent was to confuse and distract, to delay the man in calling for help, and hope for a lapse in concentration.

The guard had stepped back a pace when Xochicalcu turned around to face him, but had not stepped back far enough. The short distance was plenty far so long as the barrel of the blaster was pointed at his gut, however. Xochi didn't move, kept his hands raised. He got the lapse he was waiting for a moment later as a wall console beeped, and the guard turned at the sound, and took his weapon out of line just enough. The instant he was out of the line of fire, Xochicalcu ducked his head and bullrushed the guard, pinning the rifle between them and slamming them both into the side wall, hard.

The fight was difficult, even with the size, weight, and experience advantages. The guard was young and fought doggedly, and the old man struggled because he needed to avoid alerting anyone, and had to keep the guard from his weapon or commlink. While they were pinned against the wall, Xochi reached up and grabbed the commlink at the man's neck and snapped it off. Hey! The guard punched Xochi in the face with his free hand, giving himself space to push off the wall. With the rifle too long to bring to bear, the man dropped the weapon to free his hands, and reached for his sidearm, and so instead of drawing a weapon of his own, Xochi pinned the man's hand. This cost him a knee to the inner thigh, which had been aimed at his groin.

Dirty barve! Xochi angrily retaliated with a punishing elbow to the guard's head, which staggered the man. Instantly, despite his own anger, he assessed the situation calmly. He could have drawn and fired right now, but the risk of the noise wasn't worth it. The other man chose to go for the draw again, but the former guerilla fighter had already charged in. This time the blaster pistol was pinned between them as they hit the ground, Xochi on top, one hand on the wrist holding the blaster, pushing it into the guard's chest. The mad bastard was still trying to pull the trigger. He'd forced the issue. With a wrench of the arm, using both hands, Xochi used the man's own grip to point the blaster barrel under his chin, and pulled the trigger. Prick!

The noise of the blaster discharging upward into the guard's head seemed deafening to Xochi, and he reared back and away to avoid having his face burned off. Despite this, the feeling of the guard's body going limp, and the smell of burnt and scorched flesh told him the ending to the story here. Xochicalcu got up, and dragged the body behind a side console, concealing it underneath, leaving the rifle and blaster with the body, as they weren't needed.

Hefting his own repeater, he got moving, ready to repel anyone that came at him, as he made his way to the stairs that led up to the next level. If anyone heard that damned blaster, their mission might be borked.


Body Count : 2+1
Two guards in the AA building, killed with laser cutlass.
One guard in the sniper tower, killed with own blaster at close range

Alexa Keel Nos Voros
​

 

[Nos Voros]

SERPENT'S HEAD

Outfit: Clothing/Armor
Weapons: Heavy Blaster Pistol | Vibroknife | Loadouts in bio

Nos gritted his teeth as the pounding at the wedged door intensified. The shouts on the other side blended with the muffled clatter of boots—reinforcements were coming fast. He tightened his grip on the stun grenade, his pulse steady despite the chaos. He’d handled worse.

The door burst open with a metallic groan, slamming the wedge loose as three slavers spilled into the hallway. The first was a burly Nikto armed with a vibro-ax, his jagged teeth bared in a snarl. Behind him, a wiry Rodian with a blaster carbine and a human wielding an old-fashioned chain whip.

The stun grenade left Nos’s hand before the first man could close the distance. The Nikto barely had time to register the metallic sphere before it detonated with a sharp, disorienting CRACK of light and sound. The slavers stumbled, clutching their heads, their weapons hanging loose.

Nos surged forward, striking like a predator unleashed. He grabbed the Nikto’s vibro-ax as it sagged in his grip, reversing the weapon and driving the blunt end into the slaver's stomach. As the Nikto doubled over, Nos swung the blade upward in a brutal arc, severing the Rodian’s weapon arm in one clean stroke before the alien could recover.

The Rodian screamed, but Nos didn’t give him the chance to draw attention. He pivoted and kicked a nearby chair into the Rodian’s chest, sending him sprawling into the chain-wielding human behind him. The two collided, tangled in limbs and curses.

The Nikto, recovering, let out a guttural roar and lunged with surprising speed, his claws swiping for Nos’s face. Nos ducked, the swipe grazing his shoulder, and retaliated with the vibro-ax in a two-handed grip, driving it into the Nikto’s knee. Bone and cartilage gave way with a sickening crunch, and the slaver collapsed to the floor with a howl.

Nos discarded the ax, turning his attention to the human untangling himself from the fallen Rodian. The man snapped his chain whip, its links singing through the air. Nos grabbed a nearby stool and raised it like a shield, intercepting the whip's strike. The stool splintered on impact, but Nos was already moving, closing the distance.

He slammed the jagged remains of the stool into the slaver’s throat, cutting off his panicked yell. With a twist and a shove, Nos drove the man into the wall, the chain whip clattering to the ground. A swift elbow to the temple finished him.

The Rodian, blood pooling beneath him, raised his remaining hand in a futile plea. Nos hesitated only long enough to aim his vibroknife. The blade hummed as it plunged into the alien's chest, silencing him for good.

Breathing heavily, Nos turned to the Nikto, who was dragging himself across the floor, leaving a trail of blood. He was muttering something, a prayer or a curse, Nos couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter. Nos drove the knife downward, ending the fight with ruthless efficiency.

The hallway was eerily quiet now, save for Nos’s steady breathing and the faint hum of distant generators. Blood stained the walls and floor, the bodies of the slavers crumpled where they’d fallen.

Blaster fire sounded outside. Shouting and voices heralding an alarm. It sounded like the time had come to bring their full force to bear.
"Hoot, Alexa, we're made! Let's hit em hard before they realize the depth of the poodoo their in."
Nos spoke into his communicator.

Then, Nos felt it—a wave of raw, predatory malice, closing in fast. The bloodlust and euphoria he’d sensed earlier had sharpened, now radiating a chilling focus.

Nassar Quan was coming.

Nos wiped his knife on the Nikto’s tattered jacket and took a deep breath. The leader’s approach was deliberate, the sound of boots striking wet tiles echoing through the compound like a predator announcing its presence. Nos tightened his grip on the blade, stepping back into the shadows.

This wasn’t just another fight. This was the serpent’s head.

Xochicalcu | Alexa Keel​

 

[Alexa Keel]

Alexa had been meticulous as always. Making sure to be quiet, engage small groups and kill them off fast on her way to the complex proper. Given her tendency to stay at greater ranges she was still outside of the complex building when she started to hear blaster fire. Then a bang of some form of grenade, then the sound of an alarm, rousing the whole base to action.

“Fast and Violent it is.” She muttered, starting to close the distance between her and the facility, preparing to swap her DMR for her submachine gun. It was better for clearing rooms, so if they were able to move fast enough they could kill everything on the inside that needed killing, then extraction could be done with relative ease.

She went to the entry checkpoint and opened fire. The two slackers in guard duty looking the opposite direction, thinking that there was an escape, not a break in. A few plasma bolts in their back and they dropped dead on the spot. She jumped the checkpoint barricade and made her way to the building. Her friends had already been caught so it was time to take the whole place by storm. Room by room, floor by floor, and as fast as could be done.

She only hoped she had enough grenades to do the job.

---

Xochicalcu Nos Voros