Capt. Phillep

Only one other soul was as corrupt and dark as that of the dark-cloaked Twi'lek entering the cantina, by the robes, the Imperial Fleet Officer and Commander reasoned that it must be a Sith and managed to track him down by some rather unorthodox means as all Sith tend to do, that or simple dumb luck. Either way, he will do nicely... Phillep's eyes matched those of the blue Twi'lek and a single thought, which he hoped to make the force user take notice of... Are you the Sith Bishop sent for the Imperial Dark Troopers? Phillep still held the brandy as it glimmered in the low-lighting of the shadowy portion of the cantina.

Phillep drank the shot glass worth of Vodka and felt the warm rich liquid enter his body, savoring the sensation he managed a smile as he continued to fiddle with the plans of additions to the Imperial War Machine, the business of his voyage while in his other hand he held the drink, the pleasure. Ordering yet another, this time a Brandy, he watched the fellow patrons as he contemplated the Tie Defender compliments and the X-1 Viper Automadon plans he carried in the datapad to compliment the new additions. Soon, the stagnation of the Imperial War Machine will end and with it the Rebel Alliance. A smile etched itself across his face, not large but rather minute only noticeable to those who payed attention to the man in the shadows of the cantina, meanwhile, he drank and sat, awaiting Drake Vortex...

Phillep stifled a laugh as he walked on through the Space Station still admiring the intriguing architecture of the Gateway, in particularly the well that leads a visitor to a myriad of malls, shops, cantinas and various other forms of prime interstellar commercial real estate. Walking casually into a cantina, Phillep asked for a Hoth Vodka, to which he was promptly attended to. He drank peacefully enough, still admiring the designs...

The Charybdis descends above the Gateway. The Imperial Captain boarded his personal ship and descended to the space station. Business and general curiosity called him to the Gateway and to Drake Vortex... The network of information was beginning to be quite proactive and negotiations were neccessary. The young Captain walked out of the Hangar bay curiously admiring the structures of the Space Station and idly walked about... Noticing the current leader of the Black Sun, Piccolo, Phillep managed a wry smile.

The Charybdis Interdictor-class Heavy Cruiser made its way into Hyperspace aboard the planet of Arbra before taking off with its young Captain and present leader of the Imperial War Machine aboard. The Charybdis entered hyperspace and exited it just outside the Gateway Space Station.

OOC: One IC: *A series of sheltered, fortified Compounds stretch along a ravine where Imperial mining crews dig deep into the Earth of Artus Prime searching for a single, priceless mineral known as Cortosis, a mineral once commonly found in the most unassuming of vibroblades but now the complex mineral has evolved into a priceless commodity and one the Imperials plan on keeping a large stake in.* A thirty year old stands before a series of monitors observing the activities in a number of Mining sites in a compound planted near the oldest of the mining shafts and arguably one of the most well-defended. A platoon of Stormtroopers and a small squad of Dark Troopers remain ever vigilant. However, constant vigilance is not without its errors, for a small B-wing snuck inside the Imperial defenses and managed to avoid detection as did the little man who walked out of that vessel. The thirty year old Commander Gran stalked back and forth observing his cameras, a routine copied all across the complex compound by numerous other lower-level officers of the Imperial War Machine. *Constantly on patrol, a small squad of Imperial Stormtroopers surveyed the area around the smallest and most insignificant of the Cortosis mines, the one overlooking the polluted river and the destroyed eco-system of Artus Prime. The same insignificant location where the single infiltrator walked and killed a single miner, whose body has yet to grace the awareness of the Imperial Troopers on patrol.* OOC: EDITED as per request... *As the hours continued to pass, the Imperial Stormtroopers picked up on something that was amiss. A body, seemingly a miner, stripped of his armor and belongings lay dead. The Stormtrooper issued a Comm to Cmdr. Gran whom instantly angered... A more in-depth scan of the surroundings picked up nothing unusual... The infiltrator was within their ranks. The Dark Troopers shuffled out, searching for a Force-user, likely the only type of person capable of avoiding the detection of the Imperial soldiers.*

On Phillep's orders the Imperial Interdictor Charybdis, stocked with its peculiar requests, exited Coruscant's orbit and entered hyperspace headed for Arbra. ------------- After a continued study of the planet, Phillep watched as the Crew of the Charybdis brought her closer and closer to the arboreal planet of Arbra.

TERRORISTS STRIKE AT GALACTIC TRADE CORPORATION'S HEADQUARTERS, UNEMPLOYMENT SPIKE EXPECTED DUE TO DOWNSIZING! In yet another dastardly display of Rebel desperation, the volatile Alliance launched a devastating attack on the galaxy's frail economic stability. The Rebel Terrorists crashed into the Corporate Headquarters and the resulting inferno caused a tremendous number of casualties, caused a plunge in the Daisaku Trade Company stock and created a possible wave of unemployment. Reactions were as to be expected: Daisaku Trade Company worker: "All in the name of freedom... Bah, say that to my wife and children!" Imperial Press Secretary: "... and they (Rebels) claim we are destroying the Galaxy..." Jedi: "Our loyal friends, the Rebels would never act so harshly, after all, they believe in the people. It is impossible." Sith: "The weak perish... So be it." Hutts: "We find it difficult to fathom that such an act could be taken on the volatile Economy, it shows, the Rebels have no sense of Economics. At least the Empire knows money, and people." No comment or replies were returned from the Rebels. And, as always, remember People of the Empire, the Empire works to keep us working. If you're against Unemployment... Say no to the Rebels!

The Imperial II made its lumbering way towards the Coruscant atmosphere.

The Imperial II Star Destroyer with Captain Phillep as her Commanding Officer and her massive girth entered the void of space and as he paced back and forth pensively. The ship descended soon into Honoghr's atmosphere upon Admiral Payne's orders. "Enforce Imperial authority." He mumbled to himself.

Phillep shifted his eyes from the Crew Manifest he had been observing and studying for nearly the past three hours and heard the Grand Admiral's commands clearly. Responding to himself, knowing full well the Admiral required little acknowledge, "As you wish, sir." Phillep stood up and walked out of his office, onto the Bridge and standing at attention called to the Navigator, "Plot a course for Honghr and enter hyperspace on my command. Now!" The Imperial II was immediately absorbed into the hyperspace route and crossed quickly into the abyss of space. In his mind, Phillep pondered the goals of his recent mission.

Phillep was still in shock as the escorts came who dragged him towards the shuttle. An Imperial II, all for me? To train in Admiral Payne's footsteps...? He was grinning like a stupid fool, he was still grinning like an imbecile when he boarded the Shuttle... but by the time he stepped off the shuttle on his Imperial II, his facial expression had turned to its cold, arrogant apparition. He walked with his hands clasped behind his back, the sound of boots clicking was all that was heard as the escorts took him to the Command Deck. He stepped onto the Bridge alone and with his hands still clasped behind his back, came up to the Acting Captain and told him bluntly, "You have just been relieved of command. Please, go. Perform your previous, mundane duties. You, as well as the entire crew, now report to me. Captain Detente." His icy blue eyes turned their gaze to the stars as he heard the finesse and precision of the Imperial officers beneath him. He heard the sounds of vessel as it hummed lightly. It was a soothing sound, he released a dark grin that was common of arrogant Captains. He stood now at attention and walked to his personal suite. He entered the doors and sat at his desk. The viewport stretched behind his desk, a small liquor cabinet in the corner of the room, a large mattress not like the cots of the Academy, and a washroom. He stretched his arms still trying to grasp the implications of his new command. The Imperial II Star Destroyer was now Captain Detente's Screeching Widow. He awaited Admiral Payne's commands, quietly as he overlooked the Crew Manifest, Ship's capacity and weaponry. He still had a sickening grin across his face, pulled out a glass and served himself a fine Brandy.

The young recruit was being dragged along for a tour when the the Stormtrooper, likely the leader of the escorts, responded to a single unintelligible command in his gruff and husky tenor voice, "Yes, sir. Right away, sir!" Phillep turning towards the escort who had already grabbed his arm and was beginning to jerk him along from the Command Deck towards some unknown locale. Following in a manner that was more prisoner-like than worthy of a guest, especially one of his "importance," Perhaps he's just jealous... Walking around in that white plastic armor all day. Who could blame him? Following along the never-ending hallways of the Star Destroyer, rather bemused at the surprising turn of events. Teenage progidy joins the military and makes a name for himself before he's 25. Gotta love my life. The inflated ego trailed behind the guards for a while, nearly a half-hour of walking with the single click of boots being the only sound made between the five men, except for the occassional janitorial droid running across the halls picking up discards, dirt and the like which would upset the lifeless, sterile environment of the vessel. Finally, released from the larger man's grip. Phillep gave him a sarcastic smirk, "One of these days, your ass will be mine." The Stormtrooper, followed him in the room and his other three companions had long dissappeared to perform whatever duties sacrificial grunts perform in a large vessel such as this one. The brash Cadet Officer entered the room, finding a single man seated at a desk. Standing at attention, Phillep immediately recognized the man, despite having never met him personally. Admiral Payne... The Stormtrooper, likely laughing underneath his helmet, also stood at attention awaiting the Grand Admiral's commands.

OOC: sorry, wrong alias... dammit.

A young, brash and supposedly brilliant product of the Imperial war machine's finest schooling and training walked into the decks of the Star Destroyer home to the fleet's own Admiral, the Grand Admiral Payne. The youth was as were many of the Imperial Academy's brightest cadets, overconfident and egostitical, but for an Imperial those were more often than not, compliments. Walking in the flight suit of his training camp, as he had originally started out as a Pilot, but was soon moved towards the Command school, because of his intriguingly innate ability to inspire an entire squadron and later a ship's worth of men, despite just in training exercises, to overexert themselves and produce sometimes nearly-impossible results. This capacity had made him a slightly noteworthy topic on the Admiral's coffee table. Surprisingly noteworthy enough, to be called up from the Training Grounds and taken before the Admiral himself. Why? Well, Phillep hoped the Admiral knew... Something about a promotion of sorts... Perhaps I might get my own flight wing... Sure commanding is what I seem to be great at... But no one just flat out promotes a raw recruit, no matter how dashingly handsome or surprisingly intelligent they maybe. The brown-haired Human walked, officially escorted by some Stormtroopers and guards. His weapons, just a simple pair of blasters were confiscated by one of the four guards. He continued walking onwards through the never ending hallways until the escort pointed him onto the apparent bridge of the beautiful vessel. Phillep's expression was priceless... The real thing. It suffices to say, he nearly creamed his pants, which were now the more official black of Imperial officers. The flight suit, discarded soon after his arrival.

Name: Phillep Detente Age: 21 Species: Human Height: 5'9" Weight: 135 lbs Hair: Brown-Black Eyes: Blue-Grey Sex: Male Homeworld: Corellia Alignment: Evil, Imperial/Sith Clothing: Admiral's Uniform; Grey Scheme Sith Apprentice Robes Possessions: Datapad log, extra battery packs Weapons: Specialized Dual Blaster Pistols, with Ivory-black hilts for Pistol-whipping, Lightsaber (crimson) with skin-grafted hilt grip. Force-User; Given Power through Nurgle Graduated top of his class in the Imperial Academy and some previous experiences commanding a mining/freight vessel before Imperial attachments (during youth). Due to strange source of Force Ability, prone to Dark Side Transformations of the Vampiric Nature. His body mass swells forming a nearly 300lb behemoth, standing 6'4" with prolonged fangs, and hair to his lower back. Temporary health-draining, primitive status... often the result of siphoning too much of the Dark Side. Also, with the effect of massive blood-loss from a self-induced Sith Rage, resulting in summoning forth any and all instances of pain... namely pronounced by bleeding jagged scars and pussing, oozing sores all over his body. Quite disgusting, though madly powerful... and stupid.