The powers that Be (Imps)

[Teleran Balades]

(Five days after the events of Operation Deadfall, part 1)


Imperial Fleet Command-Corellia Sector Headquarters

Sweat beaded along Commodore Balades’s brow, his face tense from exertion. His muscles burned as he pushed the bar towards the ceiling for the eighth time with a final heavy. Relief came to his arms as the hundred kilo bar settled into the safety rail.

Teleran pushed himself achingly to a sitting position on the bench. Despite his heavy breathing a smile came to the Commodore’s face. It was good to final have a decent workout, he’d been in space too long in past months.

The area under his supervision stretched along the Corellian trade routes and in the last few months a surge of rebel raids threw a hydrospanner into trade along the whole route. In and out, no matter what his commanders did the terrorist scum had danced around every single Imperial warship and taskforce in the region. It was as if they knew when and where combat equipped vessel would be.

This no rebel commander, this Captain Sokai and her “Phantoms”, were making a joke of the Imperial Navy. And it showed with the planetary governors, individual systems were becoming disgruntled, making demands and even threatening to cut trade and supplies.

Too much....too much audacity to allow. The audacity of the governors, thinking that they could actually make demands of the greatest power in the galaxy, the audacity of the rebel dogs daring to believe their actions wouldn’t draw retaliation. But most of all the incompetence of his could not be tolerated.

Enraged, Balades had dropped all of his research and development projects to personally oversee the fleet operations, bringing with him his entire squadron. Even now his flagship, Feanor, drifted in orbit. In weeks Imperial patrols had been reorganized, nearly every convoy had and escort, response checkpoints were set up to allow for quick action in the case of a rebel strike, and fleet elements were stationed at disgruntled worlds to keep their leaders from growing a spine.

But still, the rebels flitted around his ships and the credit loss and embarrassment continued to mount. For every one of Balades’s moves, the scum were a step ahead, as if they knew his every order. The headache continued to a point where the Commodore feared Inquisitoriate involvement might be needed.

Relief came with routing inspection of a military communication satelite when a maintenance team discovered an obscur anomaly in the transmitter and coding system. The damn terrorists were listening in on every word, every order that passed through. Fleet assingments, agendas, ship positioning, everything a commander needed to know to plan the perfect ambushes.

Commodore Balades found the perfect opportunity, rather the reprogram the system, he had information leaked into the communication network and setup an ambush against Sokai’s Phantoms. And it had worked beautifully.

Since the skirmish rebel activity was at a minimum, the communication satelites have been reprogrammed, a new code developed and the tracking beacon planted on one of the fleeing rebel ships would activate in several days time.

Teleran had requested a meeting of several officers so that a plan could be come up with the elimante this annoyance in a combined blow to the serpents head. But in the mean time, the Commodore was content to take an hour’s break from the chaos and get some lifting in.

Still smiling Balades moved over to the power clean bars.

[Park Kraken]

The shuttle ride had not been a pleasent one. The atmosphere had been laced with afternoon thunderstorms, and rather than wait until they passed by or gone around them, the pilot apparently decided he wanted to have a little fun and fly straight through one of the thunderheads.

That pilot was now on report, suspended from duty until he learned a little common sense.

You don't take Imperial military hardware on little joy riding missions. You don't take un-needed risks.

Espically with an fleet commander sitting in the passenger bay.

Sighing softly to himself, Park finished smoothing his hair down. Someone sitting next to him had vented their guts in the flight, and his uniform had been rather badly stained. Having finished cleaning himself in the refresher, he looked down at the time displayed on the chronometer on his wrist.

'Hmmm. I still have an hour left before the meeting begins. I think I'll take a little tour of the local base facilites.' thought Kraken as he exited the 'fresher and headed down the hallway.

His explorations brought Park to the gym, where he sighted a familiar figure working on the bars.

"Well well well, if it isn't Commodore Balades. Your exploits in the recent rebel rout precede you." Park started off saying as a sort of greeting, standing there in the doorway to the gym, his gloved hands clasped behind his back....

[Teleran Balades]

Balades strained with the weight, exploding upward as best he could and bringing the bar to his shoulders. He hadn’t been expecting anyone, the gym was nearly empty as it was with only the intermittent clang of weights to the normal cacophony. The Commodore flexed his wrists and brought the bar to the floor.

“Only to be shadowed by the incompetence of my officers…excuse me” He was still breathing heavily as he stood up, but despite the feeling, Balades snapped a crisp salute. This may have been a gym, but that was no reason to fall to a peon’s level. Proper respect was due as it should.

“It is good to see you on the bridge again, Admiral Kracken. I hear the Decimator has been transferred to your command.”

Teleran grabbed his towel from a nearby bench and dried the sweat from his brow. “You flight was pleasant?”

[Park Kraken]

Park watched as the Commodore finished lifting his weights, and stood to clean away the beads of pesperation dotting his bald head.

"About as pleasent as having sit through a Tiberius Anar speech, but my lunch held firm in my stomach." he remarked dryly as he returned the salute.

"Ah yes, the Decimator. Lying in mothballs in the deep core for several years before being brought out, rebuilt, and recomissioned into the navy. The VicStar Duece has had most of it's ground complement removed and an extra fighter squadron added, and her crew is novice at least, so she should handle herself well. At least I'm no longer cooped up behind a desk keeping track of known Rebel assets on Imperial center." explained the vice admiral as he moved from the door to stand in front of the Commodore.

He sized up Teleran, being that this was their first meeting in person. The commodore was shorter than him by a few inches, although he was certainly in better shape.

Truth be told, Park hadn't known that Tel was down here, and had come scouting for the gym to see what was present.

Sitting behind a desk in Imperial center for the past few years, along with attending so many formal functions and affairs, had effectivly ruined his physique. Where he was once tall, slender, and modestly built, he was now tall, round, and saggy.

But that would be rectified within a few months. He would see to that personally. But for now, there are other matters at hand.

"So, who else are we expecting at the meeting?" he inquired.

[Teleran Balades]

The commodore had to crack a smile at the Admiral’s quip. Teleran agreed with the statement, he appreciated what the Chancellor was trying to do for the Empire, but the man was still a politician. No officer in their right mind could like one for long. Whenever politicians tried to get involved with any naval campaign, the whole mission usually ended up fracked.

Truth be told, that last holonet broadcast from the meeting of the Moffs had irk Balades, the man was turning the Empire into a show for the public. It some how stank of democracy. Tel tossed the towel over his shoulder and let the thought drop. Government matters were for the politicians, he’d stick to his own duties, let the inquisitors deal with it.

“Fleet Admiral Hagan of the 17th Battlefleet, General Lycos of the 478th Caridan Battalion, Captain Glenn of the 4th Response Squadron are the most notable, several other officers will be in attendance as well”

The meeting would include the core of the Army and Naval officers for the region, the others would only be around to hand orders down the individual ship commanders. The fewer voices, the more order there would be.

“Commodore North may be making an appearance, but he is pressed in the Bothan sector.”

Balades’s voice darkened in a lower tone as he made a move for the refreshers.

“I believe the Inquisitoriate also invited themselves as well.”

[Park Kraken]

Park breathed a silent sigh of relief that the commodore had not taken offense to his little crack on Chancellor Anar.

Glad I didn't mis-calculate on that statement. It seems my prior assessement of this commodore is right on the credits.

Right now the commodore was rambling on about which of the commanders would be present at the meeting being held here on the planet.

"Ah, Commodore North. I have heard the name referenced a few times." replied Kraken to the mention of the name.

He also heard Teleran's menacing reference of the Inquisitoriate.

"I wouldn't waste too much time worrying about them. In the state of shock the Empire is in right now, with numerous commanders thinking about desertion, or even...defection...., the Inquisitoriate has it's hands too full to worry about loyal Imperial commanders, for a change..." trailed off the vice-admiral, thinking about some loyal comrades who had disappeared after an investigation to make room for a power hungry individual.

[Teleran Balades]

Desertion……defection…..the words rang hollow through Teleran’s mind. The personnel of the Grand Imperial Navy prided themselves on being loyal subjects of the Empire. Every traitor and coward was a blow to the honor of every self-respecting officer.

“Yes, but this smells different for some reason.”

The previous day Balades had received a Priority Communicae from an Inquisitorial courier. It hadn’t been the usually fire and brimstone message, it was almost amiable….in the way an ion bolt doesn’t kill you.

“You are right. We have more important things to deal with than those paranoid wights.”

More than once the Inquisitoriate had been a pain in the neck, bogging down operations, sowing anxiety, being a general nuisance; not to mention always demanding that the Navy ferry them around the galaxy.

“I want to deal with this avant-garde dren as soon as possible.”

[Park Kraken]

"I've always viewed them as a thorn in the side, one that seems to draw more useful blood from your body than just the infected cells. But sometimes it can't be helped." replied Park to Teleran's statement.

"And on that note...." he looked down at his chrono watch, and noted what time it was.

"I think it's about time I made my way back to the meeting area. I could use a good cup of caff after that shuttle ride." said Park.

Stepping forward, he offered his hand to the commodore.

[Travis North]

Shortly after disembarking his shuttle and setting his first booted foot on solid ground, Commodore Travis North was greeted by a smiling officer dressed in a sharp uniform. Every Imperial station Travis had visited while serving in the Navy the same pleasantries occurred, each time making Travis nearly sick. It wasn't at all like this during his time as a pilot in the Starfighter Corps. These greetings never occurred no matter what rank you held if you put your life on the line.

While the officer, a lieutenant, said his welcome speech and stated the agenda Travis let his mind drift. His eyes tracked across the bay he was in to a shining pair of Interceptors. How he missed flying. He imagined an alarm echoing through the room and the TIEs coming to life and shrieking out to open skies.

"Sir... Uh Commodore? Is everything all right?"

"Yes, yes. Everything sounds fine. Lead on."

Out the bay and down several corridors to a lift, then down some more corridors to guest quarters. One thing was always different visiting Imperial bases, no layout was ever the same, except if your were in the Starfighter Corps. Then the layout was general. Barracks by the hanger, and pilot's lounge at the end of the hall. The only good thing, Travis decided, about switching into the Navy were the luxuries it offered. No suicide missions, subordinates who listened, and your own room.

After entering Travis quickly unpacked and changed into a more comfortable, lighter uniform. The shuttle ride had been a lengthy one, and like in any small craft, it had low temperatures just above an uncomfortable level. Knowing this Travis had worn a heavier uniform then the one he usually had on aboard the Cavalier to keep warm.

Caf.

The thought erupted in Travis' mind above everything else. Shortly after entering into Naval service Travis began to drink the foul stuff to remain in a constant state of wakefulness, as it seemed. As a fighter pilot he never needed the stuff. Flying offered it's own buzz, and when he wasn't flying, he was guzzling down a mug of beer to get the feeling. Oh beer, Travis craved that as well, however as a commander being intoxicated on the job wasn't acceptable.

Caf.

The Commodore required a fix for his newly acquired addiction. Without any knowledge of the base he walked down the halls, going where he sensed the beverage might be found. With only one mistake, walking into a food storage room, he found his way to the meeting room where several pots of the glorious drink brewed.

[Teleran Balades]

Teleran was busy donning the finishing touches of his uniform, he was cutting it rather tight with the meeting as well. True Imperial decency nearly required an officer to be half an hour early to a command assembly. The commodore was comfortably pushing ten.

He had taken his time in the refresher and had indulged in an actual steaming hot hydro-shower. After several weeks of solid work without rest, it was about time too. Balades couldn’t seem to remember a time he felt better. To hell with proper graces…at least for now.

Glancing down at his wrist, Teleran almost reverently pulled up a blue band to just above his elbow, starkly contrasting the grey of service vest. A single black dot adorned the center of the cloth. He and several officers that had survived the battle of Endor had begun wearing them as a reminder of the greatest tragedy since the Empire’s formation.

The death of Emperor Palpatine.

It filled him both with sorrow and strength each time he wore it. Sorrow that the perhaps most brilliant man in the galaxy had had his life snuffed out by terrorists. Strength that the Empire would still carry out his vision and maintain order in the galaxy.

The military had grown lax, had splintered and separated, dozens of worlds had seceded. And all the while the Imperium’s enemies had grown in number once again. It was nigh time that that which was lost was reclaimed and the Empire became more strong than ever.

Balades entered the audience chamber, a near two dozen officers gathered around a polished black conference table. Most were conversing in their own groups in proper Imperial fashion. A panoramic viewport allowed a perfect view of the system and each commander’s ship floated in the pristine space.

Every now and then hearty laughter would break out or someone would drop a cigarra in an ivory ashtray. Not wine, though the station did have a perfectly aged Agamarian Emerald, Commodore Balades had seen that none be presented. This was not briefing or celebration.

Balades glanced at the wall chronometer; five minutes. It wouldn’t be proper to start early. The commodore moved towards a small congregation to trade words of wisdom.

[Telan Desaria]

Corellia was one of the most prosperous worlds in the sector which bore its name, if not the whole of the Empire. Culture, commerce, warships construction: all had roots there. Corellia boasted some of the largest shipyards in known space and sported a garrison to match with no less than a dozen battleships from the sector fleet on station at any one time. In many systems in the dark corners of the Emperor's Realm, some citizens had never seen a Star Destroyer; on Corellia, their arrival was common place.


It was with that complacency that the average citizen boarded his commuter shuttle from Coronet or some city, traveled to an office on an orbiting station or one the numerous moons, and watched a large triangular-hulled titan drop from hyperspace and disgorge a small Lambda-class Shuttle and a quartet of escorts. Sure enough, the commuter looked up, noticed, and returned to his morning copy of the Corellian Gazette. The prying eyes of young children walking along windowed corridors in orbital complexes however looked on with greater interest and jumped up and down as the group flew past for those were no ordinary TIE fighters, nor the Interceptors that so many Holo Actors drove into their hearts and minds; no! They could not recognize them and before the shuttle had even entered the atmosphere a thousand whispered stories were born.


The commuter may have been dismissive and the child intrigued, but the traffic controllers inside the Sector Fleet Command Center were positively terrified. They checked and rechecked their instrumentation to make sure their computers weren't wrong but every time the information was the same:



Type: Lambda 365 Shuttle
Occupants: 2 Pilots, 4 passangers
Manifest: Grand Admiral Desaria; Brigadier General Maxim; Lieutenant Malek; Lieutenant Korfin


The shuttle touched down on a rooftop pad while its four escorting TIE Defenders landed on the adjoining parade ground; the former attended by a nervous Rear Admiral and embarassed Colonel, the latter surrounded by puzzled peers from the Imperial Fighter Corps.


" Your Excellency, I dare say you've made an entrance."


Grand Admiral Desaria bit back a smile back waved off his Chief of Staff. He received with pleasure the unprepared welcome from the garrison commander and his Fleet Assault Corps first officer and disappeared into the complex to find the room of a conference he wanted to attend. A young officer, a Commodore, had made impressive inroads against the Rebels that sought to deprive him of his efficiency, and he was battling enemies both within and without. For that the Grand Admiral could sympathize for his destination bar the side-trip was to do the same on a much grander scale.


Some support for loyal servants of the Empire, to show them their efforts are not forgotten. We will need men whose goal is clear and not clouded by ambition or greed, we will need them dearly when the politicians interfere.


Desaria followed a nervous Lieutenant-Commander through the installation until they happened upon the meeting room, not yet occupied by those seeking to meet. The Grand Admiral dismissed his staff and took a seat in the shadows, waiting for the attendees to enter.

[Park Kraken]

Having had a good chat with Commodore Balades, he was looking forward to the meeting and having discussions with the other Imperial officers.

Park strode down the corridors leading to the conference hall, taking his time to absorb every detail. Being trapped behind a desk in Coruscant for so long....he had forgotten what it was like to be on a planet that wasn't an entire city unto itself.

He cast aside such thoughts as he had arrived at the conference room.

Once Park had entered, his gaze swept around the room, noting a few individuals of high rank...

Until his eyes settled on the form of Grand Admiral Desaria.

'Ooh no, not that pompous ***...' thought Kraken as he finished his sweep and entered fully into the room.

He remembered peeking in on the ceremony when the Admiral had achieved his current rank on Coruscant. This and another events since then has lead Park to believe that Desaria was quite the grandstander, and was very vain while doing in.

For Kami's sake, let's hope that the Admiral is more subdued while out in the field, as he filed into his seat....