Jump to content

Empress Teta


JediRP Staff
 Share

Recommended Posts

EMPRESS TETA

 

Astrographical Information

Region: Deep Core

Sector: Koros Sector

System: Empress Teta System

Orbital Position: 4

Moons: 3

Grid Coordinates: L-10

 

Physical Information

Class: Terrestrial/Temperate->Arctic

Atmosphere: Type 1 Breathable

Primary Terrain: Urban, Forests, Mountains, Plains

Points of Interest: Cinnagar Royal Palace, Core District, Great Library of Cinnagar, Hyperspace Navigator’s Guild House , Monument to Lost Navigators, Core Mining Guild Headquarters, New Iron Citadel

 

Societal Information

Indigenous Species: Humans (71%)

Immigrated Species: Variety of alien species (29%)

Primary Language(s): Galactic Basic Standard

Faction Affiliation: Galactic Alliance (Capital)

 

JediRP Canon History: 

A near ecumenopilis, Empress Teta rivaled Coruscant in its prime. Boasting a strong military presence and defensible position, Enoress Teta was left relatively untouched from the galactic conflicts up to this point. As the galaxy lay in shambles post-Imperial Sith Apocolypse, this stronghold of military and economic might has emerged from the treachery of the Deep Core to serve as a crown jewel of lead worlds in the galaxy. From a newly reconstructed Iron Citadel, leadership of the Galactic Alliance oversee the governance and defense of the known galaxy and all worlds that ascribe to their alliance.

  • Like 3
Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 months later...

The perilous course deep into the core was guard enough, or so one would think. Even so, when The Bespin Storm dropped out of hyperspace, it was met by a fleet of home guard warships that would rival the entire capacity of the Sith armada or Alliance navy. Vangar Longfang stood on the bridge adorned not in his titanium power suit, but in the finest the Imperial Remnant and the wealth of Bespin had to offer. The Aeien silk cloak of blue and unique silvered belt buckle denoted his rank of Baron Administrator, his rank pip atop his crisp black Imperial uniform; but none of that compared to the air of authority with which the Barabel carried himself, a ferocious predatory aura that radiated outward encouraging al around him to naturally redouble their efforts for fear of failing the newly appointed leader of the free galaxy. All about him, the crew worked tirelessly. Wing Guard, Imperial navy men, former Republic sailors, and Rebel-aligned spacers worked together flawlessly since being assigned to the newly minted The Bespin Storm outside of Cloud City.

 

image.thumb.jpeg.4cd802b895670fde64fb4d5201de1c89.jpeg
 

The holocomm fuzzed to life filling the viewscreen overlooking the bridge. On the display was a single Tetan Marine Commander. “Captain Xero Han,” the soldier stated by way of introduction, “It is an honor to welcome The Bespin Storm and her cree to Empress Teta. On behalf of His Royal Highness the Emperor, we are prepared to authorize the immediate landing of your envoy and to offer you escort to the Iron Citadel.”

 

Vangar Longfang stood up even taller and straighter if that was possible. He returned the brisk salute, nodding in acknowledgement. “Thank you Captain. I and my men will plan to arrive planetside  within the hour.” The Barabel pointed a flawed finger to his comms officer, a clear signal to cut the feed. After the relay was stopped, Vangar turned to face @Qessax Jal Todda who had been standing nearby. “Commander, prepare an attachment of our finest commandos and attachés. We want to look the part should we meet the Emperor.”

 

_________________________________
 

“Commander Blane you have the conn,” Vangar called out before spinning to leage the bridge. “We will send for the rest of the gear when a base is established.”

 

”Aye sir.”

 

The Bespin Storm could carry enough men and supplies to besiege all but the strongest holdout world for months on end. Empress Teta was one of those worlds it could not. It did not matter because that was not why they were they and it was not for what the Storm was loaded. Of course it still stood battle ready on the edge of the system; but it was packed to the pods with all the necessary staff, soldiers, computers, and supplies to set up a completely new base of operations. In essence, if the people were the heart of the Alliance, The Bespin Storm carried the  makings of the Alliance’s spine.

 

_________________________________
 

The shuttle was worn but pristine, an Outer Rim dignitary’s property seized by the Wing Guard when it was found to be smuggling polstine spice. A pair of burly Whipid Wing Guard stood guard, watching the loading of the initial supplies that were to be planet-bound. A Rebel supply clerk checked and double checked every grav-sled and supply crate before it was moved aboard.

 

Vangar Longfang approached the ship with a smile. The hustle and bustle of the crew even without his overwatch spoke volumes to the dedication of those who had been handpicked to crew the vessel. As he approached those less in the know offered salutes. Those of the Wing Guard that knew stayed focused on their work.

 

He could board the ship and wait for the others; but Vangar knew how cramped such a vessel would quickly become. As such, he remained outside waiting for Qessax and the hand-picked finest the Alliance had to offer.

Profile

image.png.6d6ffca248dce23d1ba3dd5ba53a5c66.png

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sometime during the trip Qessax was able to acquire a new uniform. Back in pressed black and field plate, Qessax couldn’t help but feel a bit more in charge. There was something about the imperial uniform, tailored to his odd body type, that made him feel more in charge. He wasn’t naked without it, but he did feel like he was missing something when wearing something else. Contrary to many of his people, he liked a uniform, even if it meant his mask was at his side again. 

 

Now if only they could do something about the kriffing boots Qessax inwardly groaned as he adjusted his footgear again. No matter where he went or who he talked to, no one could make boots fit for a Kaleesh. 

 

“Yes sir” Qessax nodded to Vangar and quick set to do just that. 

 

Among those chosen were the clones. They had proven their worth in combat. Now was time to see if they could prove their worth in a more social setting.  “Dress sharp men, You may be meeting the Emperor today, and I want to make a damn impression worth our souls. Make sure that armor shines”

 

Qessax hand-picked the rest of the company to come along as careful as a guard preventing an assassination attempt. He only selected those he had first hand knowledge on, and even then, only those who showed promise of making a good impression. A few he considered chancing on despite his lesser knowledge on them, but when he realized that they could be meeting the Emperor, he decided against it. 

 

Normally such tasks would’ve bored him. He would’ve preferred the thrill of tracking and hunting down potential enemies of the State, not meeting officials and higher ups. But even this event made him nervous and thus, excited. 

 

Qessax raised an eyebrow when a familiar pungency hit his exposed nostrils. He turned and faced the group of Kaleesh warriors, the two female leaders in front. All were in modernized Kaleesh gear, with a traditional animal skin cape, gold-encased charms and Bone Masks that actually made them look a bit regal.  

 

“You were dismissed and told to return to Kalee” Qessax pointed out. He knew the best way to talk to a fellow Kalee was not to beat around any bushes. “Why are you still here?”

 

The leader, who carried an electrostaff on her back, a modernized take on the ancestral shoni spear, and lig swords on her belt, spoke just as straightforward, if not a bit more stern. 

“Your father ordered us to make sure you are protected at all times.”

 

Qessax started to glare and snarl, a clear sign of disapproval, but stopped short when he noticed a few details. One, all of the Kaleesh were much too well dressed for simple soldiers and raiders. Two, all of them had a similar scent, indicating they belonged to the same tribe. Three, and most importantly, all of the Kaleesh’s masks bore a very specific marking over the left side, and the two females had a deep red dash just above the right eye that went towards the back. 

 

I see…” Qessax said as he tapped his own mask, an identical mark as the females on them. Qessax took another sniff. “Shoni tribe?”

 

The other female chuckled. " You have been gone for too long. Qogoth, but good try” She earned a glare from her older sister, and silenced herself immediately. 

 

Qessax stayed silent, tapping his mask  in thought. After some moments of rapid thinking, he eventually came to a decision. This was not the time he wanted to deal with this. He knew it was coming, but he figured he would head home first instead.  

 

“You will not speak unless spoken to. The moment I hear you disagree or go against my will, I am shipping you back to my father to become bedmates in waiting. What i say goes.  As representatives of Kalee, you are expected to uphold both our traditions and the laws of the land. You are both now soldiers of the Alliance and Raiders of Kalee. Become a problem, and I will find and exexcute a swift solution.”

 

Qessax stepped forward, nearly three breaths away from his two mates. 

 

“Is that understood Qogoths?”

 

The two thumped their chests once in unison in agreement. 

 

Qessax turned and indicated for the group to follow. 

 

_____

 

Qessax gave the order and everyone marched to the ship. Once arrived and made to halt, Qessax presented everyone to Vangar with a sense and air of pride fitting for his race. The clones, the commandos, the attaches, everyone. 

 

When it came to the Kaleesh, he simply said “Commander, these bodyguards and representatives of Kalee were hand-picked by Khangan Han himself. I trust them with my life and my reputation. With them are Sgt. Wren Kar, a soldier I served alongside before I transferred to intelligence, as well as my secretary. All here have both proven their worth and usefulness” 

 

At this, a small human saluted, decorated in his finest gear, as well as Qessax’s personal astromech droid who beeped a salutatory greeting.  

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Vangar turned, his clawed hands clasped in the small of his muscled back, to surveil the entourage @Qessax Jal Todda had compiled. Rebels in their earthen brown uniforms, the starched pleats of several local militaries who had contributed greatly to the cause of freedom, the contrasting blacks and whites of polished Imperial plastoids and cloth, even the cloud blues of Bespin Wing Guardsmen stood assembled in columns. His eyes passed over them all. Most were strangers. The few he knew, the Baron Administrator would trust just slightly further than he could throw them. Still, for what they were facing, this lot would do well. Professionals, soldiers, each of them; trained in combat and excelling in intelligence and other areas of forward command set up and creation.

 

Vangar looked at Qessax and nodded curtly before spinning on his booted heels and walking into the waiting ship. As soon as the entourage had bordered and stowed their gear, the ship would take off accompanied by a small fleet of supply vessels. Everything that would be needed to establish a new base of operations.

 

——————————————————

 

After receiving appropriate clearances and flanked by a small squad of TIE fighters and sleek Tetan local defensive craft, the lead freighter bearing the Viceroy of the Galactic Alliance and his retinue descended to a formal landing pad. Thunder pealed across the sky as the craft swept through the storm. A pair of fighters streaked overhead  across the thunderstruck sky as the remainder of the craft were escorted to nearby landing areas to begin offloading their gear and supplies.

 

As Vangar’s freighter touched down, the landing ramp lowered seamlessly. At the edge of the platform, rows of rigid armed soldiers standing at attention in polished green and gold, the royal colors of the Empress Tetan Dynasty. At their front stood Captaib Xero Han.

 

image.thumb.jpeg.8d68b282551b2d96cc3fe87aea732b29.jpeg


Removing his helmet, Captain Han offered a brisk salute as he stepped forward to meet Vangar as the Barabel descended to Tetan soil and advanced between the ranks of Alliance forces and operatives. Stopping at the end of the Alliance colums, Vangar returned to salute before stepping forward to offer a firm handshake. His hand completely enveloped the alien Captain Han’s. “The Emperor regrets that he is unable to meet you upon upon arrival. Pressing matters of State.” He offered as his only explanation. “He has instructed that we are to see you and your team to the New Iron Citadel, which the Tetan people offer up for use by Alliance Command for as long as it is deemed necessary. It is an honor to serve the galaxy in such a way.”

 

Vangar nodded in understanding. The Emperor had a kingdom to oversee. He had sent his emissaries to offer aid to a fledgling Alliance born from the amalgamation of a sprinkling of failed, rebuilding, planetary, and rogue groups. His generosity more than made up for his lack of meeting. His gift enough to acknowledge the legitimacy of the Alliance’s claims. “We look forward to the start of a long and prosperous alliance.” Vangar gestured for Qessax and his few top level commanders to join him as they fell in alongside Captain Han. Flanked by a phalanx of Tetan soldiers they began to move through the winding windswept streets of the city-world.

 

”The original Iron Citadel was home to the Krath, dark sorcerers of yore. The royal palace now sits atop its remains containing the dark histories and lingering curses beneath layers of specially sealed duracrete.” Han described, “The New Iron Citadel is built in the tradition of classic Tetan culture. The fortress is heavily fortified. We have the means to have the slabs of stone wired as you have need. Currently we have a team of Imperial Marines securing the facility. All offices were moved offsite weeks ago in preparation for your arrival. The Mining Guild Council is anxious to meet with you Baron Administrator; once you are settled of course. They are currently in board meetings.” The commanding officer explained as they moved, dual columns of Alliance soldiers falling in amongst the Tetan forces.

 

Continuing on, the looming shadowy walls and towers of the New Iron Citadel materialized from the horizon, large, imposing, and powerful. Thick walls, towering spires, crenellations, imposing gargoyles all of it led to an aura of command that oozed to everything that was overshadowed by the Citadel. “All of this,” Captaib Hans gestured, “Is at the disposal of the Alliance.”

 

”You and your emperor have our eternal gratitude,” Vangar responded in deference. “The Emperor’s generosity is only rivaled by his goodness.”  


Captain Han nodded. “I will

leave you and your men to it. These soldiers will ensure that you and your men remain unbothered by any of the local rabble.” Han saluted and the with his personal entourage set off.

 

image.thumb.jpeg.cd93b83647dac0896e464e97e0cedf9d.jpeg

 

Turning to Qessax, Vangar did not take his eyes off of the Citadel. “Begin your analysis of the area. We need to know any weakness inside or outside the walls. See to it that the intelligence officers are established in the lowest levels near the holding cells.” He pointed to a pair spiraling towers each isolated from the main sprawling stone keep. “Those will be for the Imperial Knights and the Jedi respectfully. Offices are to be assigned under standard Imperial protocol Osk-Orenth-3. I have a meeting with the Mining  Guild. With any luck, this arrangement is more than an attempt to secure better trade agreements with the Bespin Mining Guilds.”

Edited by Vangar

Profile

image.png.6d6ffca248dce23d1ba3dd5ba53a5c66.png

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The work Qessax endured on Empress Teta was busy to say the least. Coordinating, assigning, judging and analyzing, not to say including those of what duties remained of Imperial Intelligence. All the entire time with now his two wives as bodyguards looming over his shoulders. They performed their duties rightfully so. They were silent and restrained, though more than once Qessax saw Lor’s hands go for her blades.  Still, she restrained herself each time.  

 

To say the least, Qessax actually preferred Imperial Intelligence over the more paper-pushing and coordinating efforts. Everything here on Empress Teta was so by the books and formulaic. It wasn’t that the Kaleesh couldn’t perform these tasks, far from it. His training in Intelligence required him to be able to follow procedure. It was just boring. At least with matters of Imperial Intelligence, there was the feel of a hunt. There was intuition and approximation. There was gathering and sifting. There was the unknown, pushing the boundaries and looming threateningly. 

 

Still, Qessax continued his work thoroughly. If it wasn’t for his secretary droid, he would have been hopelessly lost with much of the minutia. The R-8 was customized from the ground up to be able to handle vast amounts of data, more than what the standard droid could handle, as well as being able to perform long-range communications. Everything that went through the droid was recorded, encrypted  and stored on data chips, leaving a clean trail for those in the know, but impossibly convoluted for anyone else.  

It was because of ‘secretary’ that Qessax felt a pinch in his stomach. At some point during his work, Qessax had an idea of summoning the crown Regent’s clan mates to Empress Teta for a sort of private, closed from the public celebration. During all the chaos lately, he knew that Vangar hadn’t had a chance to actually celebrate his new position, and like many reptoid species, clan-mates were important for such a thing. 

 

It was in his requests to Secretary that Qessax discovered that almost all of Vangar’s clan-mates were deceased. The first two didn’t surprise Qessax. Mining accidents were common after all. But after the sixth one confirmed to be dead via imperial records, Qessax raised more than an eyebrow. 

 

Perhaps he should have let it be right there. He had enough tasks on hand to be concerned about Vangar’s dead siblings. But this task felt less boring than the rest. It felt like something was off. Like something needed to be sniffed out. No, Qessax couldn’t stop himself. He delegated certain tasks to other people beneath him to make room. While his wives didn’t complain, he knew they disapproved of his action when he had to cancel a holo-meeting with his father.

 

 Digging deeper, Qessax found some more details. His rank carried weight, and people he contacted within Bespin’s local government recognised it and gave the information willingly. 

 

The details he found did not make Qessax feel better. Each clan mate that died, according to official reports, occurred after Vangar was thrust into the position of Baron Administrator. At first, Qessax reasoned that with Vangar’s new position, mining regulations temporarily became lax. But the records showed that Vangar was notorious for making sure safety regulations were followed. 

 

No, there was more to this than met the eye. 

 

More digging. More investigation. More doubt. The interviews became more difficult over holo-feed, but Qessax persevered like a seasoned spymaster. People were hiding details. Cover-ups were being done. The clan-mates who did not work for the government directly were the most difficult, their bosses claiming that they knew nothing. The ones who did work in the government had some of their records the weeks following their deaths missing. Someone was hiding something. 

 

The final detail, and the smoking gun as the humans would call it, came in the form of casino-host turned manager. The manager claimed that while he was a host, his friend, one of Vangar’s clan mates, had received a gift of an all expense paid trip to their homeworld of Barbel. His friend was excited to see his home again, especially after the deaths of his other clan-mates, and hoped to bring back a mate of his own. However, when the host became manager, he discovered that Vangar had bribed the previous manager to let Vangar’s clan mate go on the trip. 

 

Sure enough, Qessax confirmed that the ship taken to Barbel exploded due to a leak of Tibanna gasses, despite proper procedure of the gas being sealed in carbonite. Had this been the first death by ‘mining accident’ Qessax would have brushed it off. But this was the sixth dead clan-mate, and Vangar, with all of his power as Baron Administrator, did not bother with any form of investigation, at least not according to records.

 

Qessax pondered over all this. At the very least, Vangar had covered up vital information. He was certain that if he went to Bespin itself and performed more intensive interrogations, he would find that the missing records were expunged on Vangar’s behalf. 

 

But at the very worst, Vangar ordered the deaths. Spirits above, with his experience and Barabel drive as a hunter, he may have killed them himself. Qessax had no idea why Vangar covered the information up. What reason Vangar could have was beyond the Kaleesh at the moment. It could range from paranoia over his new job to fighting between his clan-mates inflamed by new positions of power to some discovery that needed to remain secret. Even if he didn’t cause the deaths, was he then ordered by someone else to cover the information up? Did that criminal organization of Black Sun have its tendrils on Bespin and on Vangar?

 

Qessax pondered more and more. He couldn’t help but wonder if Kolchak knew about this. Did Qessax’s mentor have something to do with the fact that Vangar was only in charge of one sector and never anything greater? 


None of this he shared with his new wives. He wasn’t sure he could share such information with them. After all, Qessax was the one that made Vangar’s ascendancy possible. And it was Bespin that currently helped Kalee surge forward into the future with factories and managers. How would they react if they found out that their planet’s benefactor was not as benevolent as they believed? After Kalee’s long history, Qessax could easily assume that his father would not take the news well. He wasn’t a fool, he would still accept the help, but Kalee’s relationship with the Alliance would be harmed to say the least. 

 

Qessax rubbed his eyes and looked out the window. The sun had long set, but the lights of the ecumenopolis world made the skies outside clear as day.  It was long past any kind of meal time, and nearing a time of rest for most people.

 

“Bring me those bottles I know you brought” Qessax ordered his wives. “And prepare some of the Shoni meat as well. Prepare a dining place for me, you two and Vangar. Secretary, send an invitation to Vangar. Tell him…”

 

Qessax stopped and scratched his tusks in thought. 

 

“Tell him that I want to spend a meal with him to discuss the future. He will not deny me. Its time I conduct an interview with our leader. ”

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

The meeting with the Mining Guild was, in truth, a series of meetings and negotiations with several different factions. Bartering, wheeling and dealing, and sometimes outright shows of force were all par for the course. So when Vangar was interrupted going to and fro by a droid emissary claiming to have a request from @Qessax Jal Todda, he nodded in agreement more intent to get the droid off so he could return to his tasks at hand than actually ponder the bot’s request. His tasks would not conclude until well into the evening when at last the entirety of the board had assembled alongside representatives of the Tetan Royal Court. From there it was a mere matter of pomp and circumstance as the backroom wheeling was formalized. 
 

As the Baron Administrator of Bespin, Crown Regent of the Imperium, and Viceroy of the Galactic Allie stepped out of the grand meeting hall under the cloudless sky, he felt the cool breeze against his face. His stomach grumbled, a deep rumble that sounded more earth-hewing than anything. He was hungry, having not eaten at all since they had entered the system. It was only then that he recalled the invitation from Qessax. Fishing out his comm unit, he radio’d the Kaleesh intel officer to see if the offer still stood. Seeing that it did, the hulking lizard smiled and set off into the night.

 

Finding his way back to the New Iron Citadel, Vangar was pleased to see how well it had come along in just a day. Offices had taken shape, security measures customized to Alliance and Imperial protocols, and the new home of the Alliance born anew in the safety of a strong allied world and still, as he moved though the fortified city within a city, he was pleased to see that given the late hour there were still those hard at work.

 

Finding bis way to the private quarters of the Kalee representatives, Vangar knocked loudly. Once allowed access he looked around, noting the two women with  Qessax and took the offered seat.

Profile

image.png.6d6ffca248dce23d1ba3dd5ba53a5c66.png

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The setting for the dinner was made as traditionally Kaleesh as Qessax could muster. While most of the room’s entrapings were imperial, including the table, chairs and paintings on the walls, Qessax was able to decorate the room slightly. His fur cape from home had been laid over the center of the table, a traditional compliment to the guest, while his wives’ capes were over the back of his own chair. Several necklaces ringed with small bones dangled off the table in a purely aesthetic sense. 

 

Various bowls had been laid on the table, filled with milk, leaf and salt blends, cheeses and breads bought locally, or a small amount of an aromatic tobacco-like substance. Plates had been set out for the four of them, but no silverware was to be seen. Three cups were near each plate, one empty, one with a light alcoholic drink and the other filled with water for some unknown purpose. 

 

Qessax greeted Vangar with a slight smile like an old friend. While he still wore his imperial uniform, expected to work at any time, here he kept his uncomfortable boots off and tucked near the doorway. Mask still at his side, he actually looked slightly out of place with his wives who both wore masks and more traditional Kaleesh clothing.  

 

“I believed you would appreciate something from my homeworld,” Qessax explained as he gestured to the chair for Vangar to sit, explaining the decorations. “As it is, this is both a celebration of the alliance as well as a personal one for myself.” 

 

Qessax took an opposing seat to Vangar while Lor and Bolda went back to a private room where the food was cooking, allowing the two to talk privately. 

 

“Part of the deal I made with my father to get Kaleesh forces at Nar Shaddaa was offering my marriage exclusively.” Qessax explained as he took a small pinch from the snuff-bowl before him to inhale, demonstrating its use. “In exchange for their service, I can only take wives from the Qogoth tribe, a small but fierce group of individuals. And since Nar Shaddaa, my father has seen to it to showing that the deal was not made in poor spirit. Those two are as you can guess, from the Qogoth tribe. The older, taller one is Lor and the younger one is Bolda. Both warriors in their own right.” 

 

After taking a sniff, Qessax rubbed his nose slightly before taking a sip of water. “I honestly should’ve been expecting these marriages , but honestly I was surprised it happened so soon. Goes to show you never know what the galaxy will throw at you” 

 

At this point, Lor and Bolda returned with the meal. Bolda, being the youngest, came in first, carrying plates of Dacho noodles, a well-made substitute for the various kinds of non-meat dishes served on Kalee, enhanced with several Kalee native spices. The noodles steamed slightly as they were placed on the table before the two. Following Bolda, Lor entered carrying the prize of the meal: Shoni fish. Easily three and a half meters long, the grilled swordfish sizzled with oils from being soaked in the spicy juices from home. A male, its short, pointed bill dripped with juices that leaked from its 5 black eyes as its rich red coat almost shimmered in the light. 

 

Qessax salivated  slightly at the sight and smell. “Shoni fish is becoming a rarer delicacy sir” Qessax explained as the fish was placed at the center of the table. “Despite my father’s best efforts, my people see it as a right to hunt down the Shoni for both food and for the right of passage of hunting down a Muumuu. The fact that there are only three different sea-creatures edible on Kalee makes it more difficult to prevent hunting. This is one of the few times you will taste Shoni off world.”

 

Lor placed the fish at the center and slowly but surely, began her work. Taking a bone knife from her hip, she carefully sliced off large steaks of meat and placed them on two plates. Once a suitable amount of meat was on one, Bolda took the plate and moved to Vangar, placing a large amount on the plate before him, almost to the point of overfilling the plate. 

 

“Back on Kalee, the women dictate how much the men are allowed to eat.” Qessax explained. “If the husband has treated his wives right, they will reward him. If he has mistreated them, he may not eat till the next day. The men may be masters of the hunt, but the women are leaders of the house. More than once I saw my father go without a meal because of an ill-placed comment.” 

 

Once the Shoni was carved and served, eating was allowed. With no silverware, Qessax showed that it was custom to eat with hand and claw. When he needed to clean his hands, he would simply dip his fingers into the cup with water. More than once he cooled his tongue with the milk and salt mix.  Lor and Bolda sat opposing each other, at the center of the elongated table, closer to the Shoni. If anyone needed more, they were able to offer it, while eating whatever they desired. Unlike Qessax, they kept their masks on, slipping the meat underneath while glancing at both Vangar and their husband. 

 

“I hope you do not mind us being here Regent” Lor commented as she ate a handful of noodles. “If matters become of secretive, state-importance we can leave, but I insist on staying for everything else. As both wife and bodyguard, I have certain duties. Your kind, they have strong familial ties if I remember correctly, so I'm sure you understand." 

 

"Regent, I must ask" Bolda interjected, leaning a bit closer towards Vangar in curiosity "Did you have to leave your family on Barab?" 

 

Qessax made no sign that he noticed the question, when in truth he was listening intently.  For him, this dinner was a test of two things: his wives’ abilities as warriors on the both fields of battle and intrigue, as well as Vangar’s character. He had already gotten a sense of Lor and Bolda's characters. One was blunt and straightforward, while the other was eager but abrupt. It would be an interesting meal to say the least. 

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

The husky Barabel bowed his head deeply in gratitude to both Lor and Bolda as he was served a dish of steaming fish. Taking note of how the others ate, he dug his clawed hands into the flaky fish, pulling it apart into bite-sized chunks that he scarfed down noisily. The pomp and decorum of formal state dinners was gone as lizard dined amongst lizards. The dainty silverware and customs of many squishy species were as painful to adhere to as @Qessax Jal Todda boots, but amongst a galaxy rules by the soft one adhered to them out of respect. Still, it did not mean that one did not think of them as quaint, antiquated customs that prevented the survival of the fittest and the adherence to the lowest common denominator. No, the people of Barab I treasured their kind and strove to ensure that their families were the strongest they could be.

 

Vangar raised a heavy brow at Lor’s words. They sounded lime the start of an apology. Swallowing the mouthful of fish, the Barabel went to speak, but the first of Qessax’ wives was cut off by the second, who was much more direct as she asked about his family. 
 

Smiling sinisterly with his hutting underbite and exposed fangs, Vangar sat back, dipping his clawed hands in the water and flicking them dry. He pondered for a moment, analyzing the question for ulterior motive or a desire to seek a weakness in the Crown Regent’s facade. Finally, after several moments of heavy silence he replied. “ My entire family left Barab years ago. For a lifetime, we have fulfilled our contract to the people of Bespin and even today, we serve . . . and thrive far from our home.” He added almost menacingly, his voice a low rumbling grumble. Leaving his brief explanation to hang in the air, he dug his claws into the mountain of fishy flesh before him and scooped up a bite to shovel it into his mouth.
 

 

Profile

image.png.6d6ffca248dce23d1ba3dd5ba53a5c66.png

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

“Do you ever think of returning?” Bolda asked in reply, raising an eyebrow behind her mask. “Back to the home of your ancestors?” 

 

Qessax raised his head at this question as he dipped his fingers and grabbed a block of cheese, feigning interest, as if the previous question was less important than this one. It was an easy question to feign interest in. Anyone who knew an ounce of Kaleesh culture knew that ancestry was everything. To be buried where your ancestors were buried was more important than all the credits in the galaxy. Still, he kept silent, even as he broke the cheese into two in his hands and began chewing, feeling the odd texture in his mouth.

 

“You said you still serve…” Lor pointed out once the Barbel responded to Bolda’s question. “As in the people of Bespin? Or the people of the Alliance? Do your employers at Bespin enjoy your newly appointed position?” 

 

Qessax grunted at Lor, indicating for her to ease up. She was plain and bold, good traits for a bodyguard. Lor however pretended not to notice and awaited Vangar’s response.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

3 hours ago, Qessax Jal Todda said:

“Do you ever think of returning?” Bolda asked in reply, raising an eyebrow behind her mask. “Back to the home of your ancestors?” 


The question drew pause from the fierce predator as he paused mid-chew, his face recoiling in on itself slightly as thoughts and ideas, memories of his family flooded his mind. Vangar shot a sidelong glance at @Qessax Jal Todda before returning his gaze to Bolda. Swallowing the large mouthful of fish with a gulp he responded with a soft almost threatening chuckle, “You have never been to Barab I have you? The world itself tried to kill all upon it and if the world does not succeed, many of my more traditional kin have been gunned down by squishy beings compensating for their lack of power with weapons of absolute destruction. Someday I will return. Perhaps someday,” he turned to Qessax, “we shall return and put an end to these evil hunts.”

 

He had no more finished when Qessax’s second wife butt in with all but an accusation of disloyalty.

 

3 hours ago, Qessax Jal Todda said:

“You said you still serve…” Lor pointed out once the Barbel responded to Bolda’s question. “As in the people of Bespin? Or the people of the Alliance? Do your employers at Bespin enjoy your newly appointed position?” 


Vangar paused as his eyelids flickered across his cold eyes. Slowly he turned to face Lor. “Excuse me? I do not like what you are auggestint,” he hissed. The chair squeaked against the floor as he stood up, pushing it back, leaning forward heavily on the table towards Lor. 
 

“Do I, as THE Longfang, care for my tribe far from our traditional homeworld? As Chief of the Bespin Mining Guild did I care for the bottom line of the companies that employed me and for the safety of those who work the tibanna mines? Perhaps my track record can speak for itself. As Baron Administrator have I not done all in my power to see that all within the city I call home are safe and prosperous? Do I care about the ranks of Wing Guard who follow my every order, who put their lives on the line to ensure the safety of the people that took them in? You have but to take a walk across the cloudy skies. As Guildmaster of Bespin, do I not serve and advocate for everyone who calls our skies and clouds home from Barabel to Ughnaught to Human? As Moff of the entire Anoat sector did I not see that stability remained when Black Sun was driven out? Did I not see that the ravages of the Sith Empire never scorched our people under my watch and that they were driven out from Ozu to The Ring? That the people’s of a sector openly defying the Sith lived in prosperity and wellness,”  Vangar’s voice rose as his irritation crescendoed, his slitted eyes squinted into a glare as his head twisted slowly toward Qessax. Barab and Kalee culture were similar in several ways, but differed in others. One of which seemed to be the image of family and Vangar realized this. “And you would dare to question my loyalty to the people of the Alliance? After the sacrifices made by the people of Bespin, of the Anoat sector, in defense of an alliance unable to defend itself! How dare your family, your father’s representative accuse me of such shallow weakness?! After all I,” he beat a fist against his chest with a thump, “have done for him, for your world, a world I have never seen.

 

“Look around, even now, in my brief tenure, the Sith have been beaten back and the peoples of the Alliance are being freed from the yoke of oppression. So yes,” he turned back to Qessax’ wives and snapped. “I still serve.”

 

“Everyone who places his or her trust in me.” He spat as the table groaned beneath his bulk as he pressed down on it angry at the implied smudge upon his honor.

 

Profile

image.png.6d6ffca248dce23d1ba3dd5ba53a5c66.png

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Qessax said nothing at Vangar’s visible annoyance, though his instincts almost made him stand up. Only the years of Imperial training and living among the more civilized races stopped him and forced him to remain watchful. He was in the hunting and pursuing state of mind, usually reserved for wild animals but now trained for more deadly kinds of foes. He was witnessing his Regent’s growing anger, and the cause of it. 

 

However, Lor was no so easy and when Vangar leaned forward, she gripped her claws into the table and almost snarled back. 

 

“You ended a war? Heh, with Kaleesh soldiers alongside if i remember right. 14 of my brothers joined my ancestors at Nar Shaddaa, and many more of my cousins. How many of your superiors’ work do you take credit for as well?

 

“Sister, maybe we should…” Bolda started to interject, but Lor continued 

 

“And for the betterment of my world, did you do these things for the betterment of Kalee, or because it made a nice profit for the mining guild? I heard a captured poacher tell us ‘war is good for business, but peace is good for business too.’ While my father-in-law might trust you, I have to wonder: When the factories on Kalee start to become unprofitable, will you leave it abandoned like the Empire left so many worlds before? Will your employers of profit tell you to pull out when it's not helpful?”

 

Qessax raised an eyebrow at this. He hadn’t realized that Lor was working from the assumption that the factories on Kalee were because of some trade deal. He glanced back at Vangar, curious on how he would react. Was he clever enough and cool headed enough to realize the point of view Lor was working from? Would he spill the noodles on the fact that he was regent thanks to the help of Qessax’s dealings?

 

Either way, he would control his wife later, but he wanted to see how this played out, so he gestured to Bolda to stand down. 

 

“If they must wrestle it out later to establish who needs to apologize, then we will let them.” Qesax muttered to her

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Vangar leaned heavily on the table. It creaked beneath his weight as the wife of @Qessax Jal Todda leveled accusations of ignorance his way. He was used to it; so to where the claims of the uniformed, those who he still protected with his blood and blade. It was one of the burdens of leadership. One, he knew Qessax’ father would understand all too well. When she finally quieted her harpy’s tongue, Vangar stood, his breathing coming slow and controlled as he felt the rage at such accusations cut him from who he thought an ally.

 

Slowly, Vangar stood to his full height, his massive claws sparking as he drug them across the table. He turned his head to face Qessax. “The head of Imperial Intelligence should be expected to control his household affairs as well as his office.” His words hung in the air, an uneasy feeling rolling off of of then, one that seemed to imply nothing, not even murder, would be off limits. “Imperial leadership demands nothing less. See to it that this does not happen again or I shall remand you to the custody of the rulers of Kalee and appoint a more capable custodian.”

 

Without another word, Vangar turned and stalked towards the door. As it opened, he looked back at Qessax’ wives and growled. “Fourteen you say? A shame.I mourn their sacrifices. The peoples of the Anoat Sector lost thousands.” And with that, Vangar swept out the door, his cloak swirling behind him as he stalked back through the New Iron Citadel. Fishing his comm unit from his pocket, Vangar held it to his mouth and whispered. “Prepare an Oku-Gutretree team immediately.”
 

“Aye sir. They will be ready at daybreak.”

Profile

image.png.6d6ffca248dce23d1ba3dd5ba53a5c66.png

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Qessax stood up quickly and began to follow Vangar, not before stopping and giving a glare at his wives, specifically Lor. He gave a grunt in his native tongue, roughly translating to clean up, before he gave pursuit, grabbing only his mask and sword along the way. 

 

Catching up was easy, not wearing his shoes at the moment. He strode alongside Vangar. 

 

“I can assure you that will not happen again.” Qessax started. He wasn’t going to apologize, knowing that such a thing was usually not the way of reptilian species like himself and Vangar. “For someone who’s culture has been upended and changing radically, it's easy to see things in certain lights. Even one of her less-liked siblings sided with those terrorists that hijacked several ships.”

 

Qessax continued on. “I will point out sir that she does have a point. Many individuals may see you as more of a company man than a true patriot. You know where my allegiance lies, and I know where yours does. I’m sure many of your clan-mates can attest on your behalf, but there may be a time to publicly separate yourself from the more businessarial side of things”

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Vangar paused as @Qessax Jal Todda hurried to catch up. He stood silently as he listened to what the Kaleesh had to say before turning and walking away. He began to speak, a clear indication the being was to follow. “Additionally to one’s household and office, a director of intelligence does not scurry. It is beneath the station. If your family and people are in too much turmoil, you can be dismissed.” It was a statement more than a query; a barely veiled threat of what could be accomplished with a simple pen stroke. He paused to push open a great wooden door. It creaked on it’s hinges before slamming into the stone wall behind Behind it was a spiraling stone staircase that circled upwards out of sight towards one of the towering parapets of the citadel.
 

As they proceeded upward, their feet clacking on the worn stones, the Barabel continued, his voice a slow rumbling growl, “What is patriotism but a sour excuse by which to encourage men to die on the battlefronts of political dissidence? I have little interest in blind fanatacism. Loyalty. To one’s family, brotherhood, clan, people, world, and even galaxy. That is what I desire. I will not chew my words again Director. You know of my accomplishments; and of all the moffs, I was chosen to take the crown when our Empress was taken in battle. I will claw my way out from whatever abyss any seek to cast me in. The peoples of this galaxy are my responsibility and I will not allow any to stand in the way of their prosperity.” Reaching the end of the staircase, another solid aged thick wooden door swung open to the cool cloudless night above. Narrow crenellations were all that separated the flat-topped area from a plummeting descent to a certain death many stories below. Vangar stepped into the cool air, his thick skin and fat layers insulating his coldblooded heart from the chill of the breeze and cool night air.

 

Stepping out into the moonlight, he cast a forbidding shadow on the weathered stoney roof. He stepped towards the crenellations and stopped, standing as bear the edge as he could. “What good does my being here do for the people of Bespin? What have your assets told you of me Director Jal Todda? Why did you invite me to dinner for your wives to ambush me over fish? Perhaps,” he gestured for Qessax to stand beside him, “I may ask you of your loyalty to the Empire. What have you found of our beloved Empress? Her whereabouts? Her fate?” Vangar turned, slitted eyes regarding the Kaleesh with a predator’s hunger. Here, high above a city covered by nightfall, there was little chance they would be noticed and even slimmer a chance they would be overheard.

Profile

image.png.6d6ffca248dce23d1ba3dd5ba53a5c66.png

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

As Qessax listened, an old Kaleesh phrase popped into his mind. ‘Do not start if afraid, once begun, do not become afraid’. It was one of his favorites his father had taught him before he left to train under Kolchak and the imperial army. Qessax had followed that when he began the dinner, and had followed it through to this point. 

 

However, as Vangar gave the impression of a confrontation, Qessax couldn’t help but feel his flammable stomach grow taught momentarily. Still, he would continue on. 

 

“My assets have been nearly completely extinguished in trying to find the Empress. And each one points to the fact that she is missing and not proclaimed dead by anyone, us or Sith. It is still my belief to act as if she is dead until proven otherwise. That said…”

 

Qessax looked at Vangar. “What private investigations I have done into you have brought up interesting information. I did not tell my wives, but their questions about your familial ties served me well, and their loyalty to me is more valuable than their patriotism towards Kalee. Dinner was not meant to be an ambush, only a quiet investigation. A way to determine if my loyalty was well placed.  And if you want to keep my loyalty more than my patriotism, then you will answer my questions.”

 

Qessax kept his distance from Vangar. Partly as a sign of respect and not getting into Vangar’s personal space, but also as part of his imperial training. If Vangar wanted to become violent, like so many individuals did when interrogated, then Qessax could draw his sword in time to hold back the Barbel. If worse came to be, he could run back for his quarters. 

 

“Your clan-mates have suffered much. In Kalee culture, the loss of a single family member is tremendous. So I can only imagine how much pain you were in when your clan-mates perished one after another.” 

 

“But for a Baron who was so focused on safety and order, the fact that all of your clan-mates dying from ‘mining accidents’ paints an odd picture, especially when the Longfang did such minimal, and I think, poor, investigation. So, Vangar, answer me, why did your clan-mates die, and why did you cover them up?”

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The barabel’s eyes flashed in the moonlight as his muscled form shifted subtlety at the Kaleesh’s accusations. He would forego addressing the acting assumption of the Empress’ death. If they were to act as such, why was he only the Crown Regent and not the Emperor? No. That was for another time, possibly. This moment was reserved for accusations of dishonor. “Like the people of Kalee and unlike the softer races of this galaxy, we have expected standards. Standards your people violated tonight.” Vangar turned, pondering his next words. “Honor. Pride. Strength. Family.” He left the final word to hang in the air. He stared out at the strange sky dotted with a few stars and largely consuming nebula of a far off black hole. “Have you ever been to Barab I? Whet am I thinking, of course not; a cushy Imperial and dignitary’s son doesn’t go to such worlds by choice. Nor would any sane being return there to live out his days or force his children to do the same. We were afforded a great chance. It was a chance those too shortsighted could not see.”

 

Vangar turned to look at @Qessax Jal Todda, “Exile.” He said the word with disdain. “Cast off for crimes against those who took them in.” He balled his clawed hands into fists, his muscles flexing and tensing with anger. “To kill the soft. Teach them to fear us. It is a despicable way to live.”

 

“Mining accidents. Ha! Medicine of one’s own design. They just did not know they were taking their own dose.” Vangar raised a heavy eyebrow and smiled, a toothy unnervingly predatorial look. “Why do you think the Wing Guard is so effective?”

Profile

image.png.6d6ffca248dce23d1ba3dd5ba53a5c66.png

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Qessax gave a glare at the, perhaps unintended, insult. He had half a mind to comment that Kalee was no picnic either, but he had to focus. If anything, his heart was quickening. He was a hunter at the muumuu’s breeding ground. A careless move could spell danger.

 

“Are you stating that your clan has been exiled from Barab?” Qessax asked, wanting to make sure he understood correctly. 
 
“And do you think that a galaxy could work with such methods?” Qessax questioned. “You may prefer loyalty, and perhaps your methods do inspire that, but from what ive learned from Kolchak, loyalty must come from either fear or patriotism. My people, they are patriots of Kalee, even the terrorists. As wrong as they are, they are fighting for what they believe is necessary. Your clan, are they patriots of your clan? Or are they just afraid? And now that you aren’t there supervising your wing guard, will that fear stay? Can they stay effective without the thing they fear? As faulty as patriotism can be, it lasts longer in a vacuum”

 

“Tell me Vangar, do you think an alliance can survive when its head has no respect for its hands? That it would chop off its feet because it didn’t function as the head demanded?” 


 

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Vangar’s eyed rolled back in his head with frustration. He had thought the explanation while vague was simple enough. Members of his tribe had sought to terrorize and kill the innocent of Bespin, of Cloud City, in an effort to have their whole species exiled from the cities in the clouds. All Vangar had done was see that those improvised explosions were repositioned to where nobody else got hurt. Mining accidents happened, regardless of the safety procedures in place.

 

”You are a fool Qessax Jal Todda,” Vangar growled in exasperation. “And I will treat you as such. The Wing Guard are not ruled through fear, nor are the people of Bespin, and it is not how my tribe will be ruled. Loyalty to the man beside you, to your people, to those you see day in and day out and those you do not; not to some far flung ideal. Loyalty to see the best for your neighbor next door or across the cosmos. That is what I desire for the people of this galaxy. The Sith cared for none but themselves and look what they did for the galaxy. The Republic and Empire of old sought patriotism, a rule of fear, and they too fell; their rule faltering when their iron grip or golden ideals were found wanting. No director,” Vangar scowled at @Qessax Jal Todda, “your shallow ideals do not build a lasting peace any more than one man may, any more than the Sith did. It is only together that we all can secure a peace that lasts beyond the reign of one force.” Vangar looked out across the citadel below and the world beyond. Whispering he closed, “And any who cannot do that, who seeks to destroy their neighbor, will be culled.”

Profile

image.png.6d6ffca248dce23d1ba3dd5ba53a5c66.png

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Qessax sighed to himself. He had all the information he needed. Unfortunately, it was information that was not pleasing in the slightest. Information that could turn the conversation violent if cool heads were not kept. 

 

Qessax nonchalantly reached into his pockets, as if he was disappointed with what he had heard. However, in actuality he was reaching into his pocket to his handheld hole transmitter, connected to his secretary droid. These next words needed to be recorded.

 

“Considering what I have heard here, I am no longer confident in my choice in helping support you as leader of the republic. Your ideals reflect too much of the enemy we faced, and not of what the spirit of the Republic should be. Nor can a person have a checkered past behind them while hoping to lead such an organization. Such histories will lead to trouble that will lead to the destruction of something as grand as the Alliance. 

 

“As such, Vanguard, I must formally request you to step down from your position. Since the details are not public, and now that the Sith forces are more or less taken care of, there would be no dishonor to you, nor would there be questioning as to why such an action is taken. If you step down, you would be able to return to your duties at Bespin, and continue your life as you see fit. “

 

Qessax then waited for Vangar’s response. Silently, he prayed to his ancestors to help Vangar see reason. But one voice, the voice of Qymaen jai Sheelal he believed, voiced that his sword arm better be ready, and not just his literal one. 

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Vangar’s retracted claws clacked against the stoney crenellation as he leaned on it. His eyes stared out at the sky as he listened to the words of the Kaleesh. Slowly he spoke, his voice heavy and slow, any fire or vigor gone from it’s slow steady grumble. “Perhaps I have misjudged you Qessax,” he used the being’s first name instead of rank, showing the closeness that he held the man in. A tone of sadness wafted through his tone. “Perhaps too much was asked of you, of your people. But the people of Bespin, of Anoat, my people, are not yours Director.”

 

”We honor our oaths, even now. Even when it is a sacrifice but to keep our word, we honor it.”

 

“May the people of Kalee flourish under your father’s guidance and wisdom.”
 

The words hung in the still air for several long moments before Vangar sighed heavily. His mind played out a dozen scenarios, each one evaluated and then discarded for want.
 

“Unless your father breaks our accord, such peace between Kalee and Bespin still stands. Return to your quarters, to your wives. Pack your belongings. Return to your home and tell your father of what has transpired here. Serve your people, those you love, and do it with a full heart and clean mind.”
 

Vangar slowly inhaled and exhaled a plume of smokey breath into the cold night air. Finally he turned to look at the Kaleesh, his body still tensed as if Vangar might attack him without a moment’s notice or a second though. “My friend,” the word almost hurt to say it as he looked at the tensed lithe lizard. “You are dismissed.”

 

“I relieve you of the burden I should never have places upon your shoulders. The mantle of Kolchak was too heavy a burden for you to bear. For that, I am sorry.”

 

Vangar looked down towards the smooth stoney floor and then turned to stare back out into the night sky. In the distance a ship flashed for a moment before the darkness returned. The great Barabel slowly reached up to flick a tear from his eye as he blinked, staring off as if he could see beyond the stars themselves.

  • Like 1

Profile

image.png.6d6ffca248dce23d1ba3dd5ba53a5c66.png

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Qessax glared. The voice of his ancestors spoke different ideas, but the same direction. Some said to kill the lizard where he stood, some said to play it smart. None of them told him to back down. 

 

And one voice, much more human than the rest, gave Qessax the courage to say what was needed. 

 

“Do not use that word” Qessax stated very sternly, loathing the word friend. “And do not make promises you have a choice in keeping. We both know that it was our bargain that put you in this position of power. And as much as you hate it, my wife was right. Kalee is too profitable for you to lose.”

 

“I will not disgrace my ancestors nor Kolchak’s name by standing down. I am Kalee, but more importantly, a servant of the alliance. I am a patriot. And I believe that the only way the alliance will last is with a leader who is untainted by the traits of our enemies.”

 

Qessax then turned and began to leave. “I will share no secrets that will endanger the alliance. A patriot does not do that. But I will share secrets that will endanger your career, for the protection of the alliance. That is what a patriot does.  Whether the Khanate sees this as enough to kick Bespin’s factories off is up to him, but that does not matter.  

 

“You will have until I get back to Kalee in two days to step down. Until then, I will be keeping an eye out for any potential mining accidents. ”  

 

Qessax clicked his heels but did not salute. Instead he turned and left Vangar to his own thoughts. 

 

The entire walk back to his quarters, Qessax was almost growling. He wasn’t sure who he was more mad at. Vangar or himself. Qessax had acted too hastily in deciding the Barbel would be fit in helping decide the alliance’s fate. He had not dug into the details as his teacher and academy trainers had taught him. And now, the alliance would most likely suffer. 

 

When he arrived at his quarters, he was shocked to see everything was already packed away and both of his wives were already prepared to leave, weapons in hand. 

 

“But…how?” Qessax began to blubber. 

 

Bolda  shrugged. "After that dinner party, we figured we would be going back to Kalee. Though the question is are you coming with us or not?"

 

Qessax nodded. 

 

“Yes, it seems I'm not fit for this place right now. Hurry it up, I know of a few private ships that i can utilize without question. I want us to leave tonight back to Kalee. My secretary, if she is worth her programming, has already made copies of the conversation and will have them delivered to me”  

 

At this, Qessax donned his mask. As stated by Vangar, he was no longer an Imperial, and as a Kaleesh, he would wear his mask with pride

 

The two nodded, and Lor took point in leaving the building. True to form, she was not going to let Qessax be put into any danger tonight, and made sure that wherever the group walked, Qessax would be protected.. Bolda stayed a few steps behind, rifle at the ready, ready for anything. After all, Qessax had told the leader of the Alliance to his face his intentions if Vangar refused to step down. There was no telling what he may do, consequences be damned. Tonight, they were potentially in danger until they were off world. 

Edited by Qessax Jal Todda
  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

The Curich-class shuttle known as Heaven's Taint blasted out of hyperspace, moving quickly towards the surface port of Cinnagar. Beck sat and watched the movements of the crew, which was very minimal, since they didn't need as many for their small trip to Chandrila. The detour to the capital was an unexpected one at best. Juhn sat across from the Admiral, staring deeply into a datapad as he attempted to find something for himself to do. The younger lad had learned already in his time around Beck Pilon that no opportunity given should be wasted and one should always be prepared. He wondered if he could turn the young man into a fine military leader or if he would always be on the bureaucratic side of this branch they both served in. What other thoughts he may have held were quickly disrupted by someone from the bridge calling out. "We're making our final approach. Should be on the ground in less than two minutes." 

 

"Alert the main office that we're arriving and that we have an urgent matter to discuss." The comm officer stuck his head out. "No need, the main port control sends all top entries to the main office regardless." Beck narrowed his own eyes at the statement and kept his next thought to himself. That seems boardline paranoia. But dismissed it with a wave of his hand to the officer and returned his look towards Juhn, who was lowering his own head in some attempt to hide that he was looking at Beck. It was enough for him to realize that the younger man also held the same thought. 

 

As Beck and Juhn made their way into the main hall of the office suite that housed many of the Moffs and other council members of the senate, Beck took notice of the many colors of choice reminded him of what he would call the glory days of the Empire. The new Iron Citadel as it was being called amongst the ranks was something to take in. As they approached the receptionist desk, Beck took notice that the two stormtroopers who were on either side of the desk stood at the ready upon him coming into view, but the others in the room did not. There was a woman of human standards with yellow/greenish hair working the desk in a pure white uniform. He gave her a small nod.  "Hello miss, I'm Admiral Beck Pilon here to se-" "Turbolift of the right will take you up to Vangar Longfang's office. He's expecting you-" She only then looked up. "But only you. He has to wait down here."

 

Beck turned and looked at Juhn, who quickly gave him a head nod. "You'll do fine. This isn't truly a political conversation." He gave his commanding officer a salute and then turned and went exploring the hall of the massively large citadel. He let out a breath as the younger departed him, and wondered if he was being too eager to pursue Zalis. Trying to not show any signs of hesitation, he moved quickly and climbed into the turbolift, which was as the woman said, already programed to take him straight up to Vangar's office. As the turbolift moved upwards, Beck had many thoughts race through his mind. Why was he expected? Did he overstep his bounds on Chandrila? Did the War College fail after he left? Did they not want such a strong Imperial front from him? Did they already know about the Gala and that Zalis was there? There was honestly no way to tell. He just simply had to enter the room and let fate run its course. 

Edited by Beck Pilon

emperorpilon.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The newly established command office that Vangar possessed was devoid of most of the pomp and frills normally demanded by such a position. A few green and gold Tetian tapestries hung over the bare walls. An ornate scroll tube sat atop an intricate gold filigreed stand at the front center of the desk.  The highly decorated tube held the orders of the former Empress appointing the holder to act in her stead, the orders that had propelled Vangar into this very office. The empty room was otherwise occupied by a simple synth-desk with a single simple wooden chair behind it and a pair of folding chairs before it. In the corners pairs of filing cabinets, locked and filled with both Imperials files and files carried from Vangar’s personal stores from his time overseeing the Anoat Sector.

 

Behind the desk, the large reptilian crown regent sat hunched over, his fatty clawed digits clacking away at a keyboard. The comm atop his desk dinged as the secretary manning the gate at the bottom of the lift notified him of an arrival. Pulling up the cameras on his viewscreen, Vangar acknowledged the comm.

 

“Let him up.”

 

As the heavy blast doors that stood guard over the lift entrance across the chambered office rumbled open, Vangar turned from his keyboard and looked up at @Beck Pilon. Slowly, as if with deep thought, he stood. He had been intending to send for the admiral, but he had not yet done so. He knew how busy the man was with his work in the Core. 
 

“Admiral Beck Pilon, A pleasure,”

 

the Barabel gestured to one of the flimsy folding chairs, inviting him to sit as he retook his own, no better seat.

 

”My apologies. The war effort and the rebuilding has sapped our budget when it comes to some of the finer things. The niceties once expected by our position . . . “


Sliding his keyboard aside and jabbing the power button to shut down his screen, the bulky lizard turned his full attention, his heavy tired brow weighted with the thoughts of the last few days. 
 

“What can I do for you sir?”

 

 

  • Like 1

Profile

image.png.6d6ffca248dce23d1ba3dd5ba53a5c66.png

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Beck paused for a moment as Vangar invited him in. He was a bit annoyed at the comment about finer things, as it felt like something that Zalis would be in the market to even capitalize upon. Another reason there needed to be something that squeezed her lanes. But even further, he held a slight annoyance for the Moff Council, as he was certain that they somehow managed to bring forth an idea that such finer things even belonged to this lowly office. Vangar was not an Emperor, nor did the outside offices even suggest he could be one. But it was not Longfang's fault at such annoyances he felt. They were beyond him and therefore the Head of State did not deserve any of his emotions on the situation, but rather solely on the reasoning that he even came. 

 

He realized that he stood in the doorway for a little bit too long, gave a quick salute and walked in taking the chair on the left side. He began to speak even before he was seated. "I know that this most likely comes with your position, so you're used to having many bring urgent matters before you and that it is up to you to decide what is truly urgent and what is not." He forced himself to lean back into the chair and to look comfortable, which was hard to do with the chairs provided to the office. But also for the fact that Beck did not like politics and the conversation he was about to bring up was one that would bring heavy discomfort to himself. 

 

"I have come to understand that the Business Security Act is now in motion on the senate floor. While I have nothing against it, I do have a problem against someone who is getting it moved quickly. Zalis Krales." He let her name hang for a moment, knowing full well that many within the Imperial Remnant held a certain disdain for the woman after Empress Raven's account on Dark Sun Station. "She has been leading the way in locking this act into place, and is able to do so because of weakened policies and a lack of enforcement." And now was the big push. The one he wasn't sure if Vangar would help push or not. "We need to tighten our policies and drop the hammer on her movements more so then what we've been doing the past 6 years." There is was. The request to urge and move the Senate into action. Only a passionate leader could do so, or one with enough influence. Was Vangar that guy? Did the Moff Council have enough gumption to see things through? Was the structure of the entire government too fractured and scattered to even pull this off? They were all questions he held and wanted answers for. He wasn't sure what would get answered, but he learned enough from talking with Zalis to know that it was here, the political side of things is where she got to live rent free. It was the higher powers that allowed for her to move so freely and take things that she wanted. 

 

A beep came into his commpad, which was Juhn letting him know that he made a request to pull all of Zalis' files for him to go over after his meeting. He only looked at it, but quickly and never responded. The response was all he wanted to hear. So that was what he did. He just sat and awaited the Barabel's response eagerly.

  • Like 1

emperorpilon.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...

The corners of Vangar’s heavy face tugged at the tiniest of smiled at the initial

comment. From what he had heard, Beck was no slouch hinself. It had been the reason he had wanted to talk to him. Perhaps it was the force or fate that had brought them both this far Core-wars to the new bastion of Alliance strength.

 

He listened as the man spoke, never taking his reptilian eyes from the man, shifting his weight only once as the chair groaned beneath his weight. As the Admiral drew to a close, Vangar sat thinking for a few moments, the silence filling the air within the stone office. The man was absolutely right, such a thing needed dealt with, and quickly; before it became another pox on the fledgling Alliance. Such thinking drew his mind back to what had been troubling him. A loose end he had thought had been neatly tied up was beginning to unravel.

 

”You are absolutely right sir and yet we sit on the edge of a precipice. For if we come down too harshly we run the risk of being seen as the very oppressors we drove out by the ignorant masses. Criminal enterprises, lawlessness, even the Jedi and Imperial Knights must all be brought to heel.”

 

Almost absentmindedly,  Vangar’s claw-tipped fingers lifted the ornate tube from his desk as he eyed it, weighing what he was about to say.

 

”Do you know what this is Admiral?”

 

he asked, not really expecting an answer as he continued.

 

”It is a pretty bauble. It means nothing and yet, its value is immeasurable. The Sith made such a show of attacking our last base of operations, but then claim to have felled the Empress; and yet,”

 

”There is little other evidence.”  
 

He spun the tube, offering an end to Beck.
 

“This delicate cylinder contains the last known orders of the Empress. With it, she ordained the fallen Kolchak as Grand Moff and next in line if she fell. So too did he fall and the responsibility fell to me. Like you have already noticed, chaos laps at our door and even within our own ranks. The wolves have already come for me and I am left with a choice, to bare my fangs and destroy they that stand opposed and with it, the faith of the Rebellion and the billions who follow us; or, to see that the justice I know, more fitting for the Rim than the Core, be carried out without sullying the names of those who so valiantly fought for where we now stand.”

 

Vangar released the cylinder into Beck’s hand, drawing his own back. 
 

“I leave the choice to you though. You seem much more suited to such a choice. The question is will you take it? Take upon the mantle to serve this Alliance in my place? Serve as the head of this great and lead these free people into freedom and prosperity.

 

Slowly, the great Barabel stood, his chair grating across the cobbled stone floor. He stepped to the side of his desk and stood watching the naval commander.

Profile

image.png.6d6ffca248dce23d1ba3dd5ba53a5c66.png

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Beck almost refused to move at the words that came from Vangar’s mouth. The very action of releasing his own grip upon what would be the right to rule the remaining bodies within the Alliance itself. He wondered if perhaps he had misjudged the entire setup of leadership that the Moff Council appointed, or if they themselves were too much of the old guard or too much of a push over breed. And for maybe even a more rapid second of a thought; his own mind wondered if he made a mistake bringing Lieutenant Lilla Rurn out of her Alliance and into the Imperial Remnant side of things. Granted, both were the same side, just a different face of the coin. But such thoughts were not something he would dwell upon, at least not now. He paused for a moment, letting his eyes become more narrow and full of judgment. But surprisingly not directed at Longfang before him, but rather at the state of the government before him.

 

Normally he would have rejected the idea of becoming too political, as his skills were better served at the helm of a Star Destroyer, leading navies and armies into battles. But today… Today was different. There was a fire burning now deep inside him. He was unhappy with the state the Government had fallen into. Yes, the war and aftermath had indeed forced many changes that were necessary. The times have changed. With such change, one must always adapt and grow. It was something that was programmed into him. And it was now clear that the Galaxy needed new leadership within the confines that refused to let others dictate them into making policies and procedures by voices who never once stepped foot into the fields that they dictate. It needed an Emperor. But not like the ones before, but rather one who had the foresight to push the agenda.

 

Raven came very close to pushing a new empire, but fell short. The last one before her, Deton was beyond a reasonable man who ruled mainly through fear and forced everyone to bend to his will. Cruel and effective for his era. But such a style had died out and could not be put into place now. And now he looked at the cylinder before him and allowed for his mind to wonder and dream of what could happen if he took the reigns being offered to him. He stood up and walked over to the large glass window in the office and stared out.

 

Taking a deep breath in,  and turning, he locked eyes with Vangar. “Unfortunately I feel like maybe fate is at work here. I came here to see what policies could be pushed to help secure our own borders and resources. Our people through the war have been neglected to a point where we let people like Zalis Krales gain power and momentum enough to be far from easy to be taken down. Alliance strength as ebbed away, taking the best of their leadership down with every fight. Our own Moff Council has not done anything good for us recently and has elected to fold many of its own strong principles established by our former Empress. And even then, Raven was barely able to push them into the agendas that needed to be pushed....” He glanced back out the window again. "We need that imperialistic strength returned to the galaxy. We need to be something beyond just an Alliance..."

 

He paused, hesitant to even speak out loud the words that were sitting on the tip of his tongue. The words seemed like a foreign language to him that he just simply didn't understand. Yet somehow, he did. He knew he was better off making a stand here if we was ever to even try to attempt one. He looked more towards the ground below as he spoke the next words. “We need to have a power shift of a leader who can establish rule again. To be more than what Raven was, but nowhere near as hard as Deton was.” Knowing the weight of what he said, what he was meaning to say to Vangar before him, he looked back at the Barabel. "We do need a new Emperor, and I may be the only one able to lead the way it needs to be done right now...."

emperorpilon.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Vangar relinquished his grasp on the cylinder, and with it his grasp on the helm of power to steer the Alliance.

 

Standing, he stepped around the desk. “It is my belief that Empress Raven is still out there, somewhere; but until such a time as she is found, you have my loyalty.” Vangar offered a crisp brow-level Imperial salute before clapping a fist across his chest in a much more militaristic one. “The threat of the Sith is still out there. A warship was seen assaulting the Helvault before all contact was lost. With your permission, I shall resign myself to The Bespin Storm. From there, we will scour the Outer Rim and hunt what remains of the Sith scourge.”

 

”May you live long and prosper Emperor Pilon.”

  • Like 2

Profile

image.png.6d6ffca248dce23d1ba3dd5ba53a5c66.png

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Beck stood and looked for a moment at the former leader before him. He wondered what sort of leader he would be. He just stood there and looked at Vangar with an almost shocked face as he attempted to figure out what he was supposed to be doing. After a moment passed, he realized he was asked a question by the former Chief of State. Turning his hand over and putting down the cylinder handed to him upon the desk and walked closer to Vangar. While he wondered if Empress Raven was still out there, the call made by the Sith was convincing enough for him. He couldn't place any hope in such a longshot. 

 

"You are free to head back to Bespin. Build up a strong defense there and begin to enforce there. But be careful in any pursuit. The Outer Rim is large and vast. Don't waste your resources hunting the Sith when you have your own borders to secure." Beck leaned in and embraced the Barabel. Upon releasing his embrace, he locked eyes with him. "I expect to see you soon."

  • Like 1

emperorpilon.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

 Share

×
×
  • Create New...