Resurrection of the Wills

[Telan Desaria]

Somewhere in the Core

- Nine months ago -


From the darkness of perpetual night did slip a silvery wedge that none dared approach. As it came closer to Customs Corvette DX-12-9, the officers and crew watched as the metallic hull grabbed every ray of light and painted itself in resplendence. Onward did it come, slicing into their view like a dagger. Onward did it come until it was all the crew could see from the viewports dotting the corvette's one hundred fifty-meter hull. Few in the Customs Bureau would ever see the magnificence of an Imperial Star Destroyer for their lot was a dirty one: chasing pirates, inspecting freightors, and beating off the occasional Rebel fighter patrol.


The Primarch passed the corvette as it moved from reversion point to jump point, faciliting a course correction. Long moments did the crew stare at the Allegiance-class Destroyer before it slipped the bonds of realspace and vanished into the void of trans-galactic travel.


The crew sighed and returned to their stations as reality - and monotony - beckoned them come, for an Anatraes-class transport had blipped on some sensor tech's screen.



* * *


The Grand Admiral stood silent for a moment as the blue-shaded image faded before him. In two months of campaigning, he had been so consumed by his duties that the rest of the Empire did not seem real to him anymore. When Marshal Prem, Chief of the Imperial General Staff reported troubles in the Doldur Sector, he had to think a long moment of the last time he had been there. What's more, it took a few words of jogging from the corpulent former artillerist for the Grand Admiral to remember who the Moff in charge was.


Two months. Seven ships of the line, twenty support craft - gone. One hundred two thousand men - ground troops and sailors - casualties. Such a price for victory.


Nestled in the floor, the holo-projector pad finally stopped whirring as its shut-down cycle ended. Baron Telan Desaria came about and took several long steps up a rise in the floor and seated himself behind his desk. Shaking his head, he tried in vain to force the memories of the last nine weeks from his mind, but they proved recalcitrant against even his iron will. The Rebels had made a fateful mistake in pressing the Alusasci into open insurrection. At first passive, the firey rhetoric of one sympathizer turned the world into a nest of trouble and open rebellion against the Empire - vengeance was swift in coming. The Rebels were wise enough to counsel against proclaiming independence and ceceding but once stirred, the hive would not settle. The Grand Admiral himself led the charge to tame the upstart populace, a charge the Rebellion felt obliged to stop. The force they sent was paltry by any standards but they fought well. They were driven off without too much thought, but the natives forced a cruel and tedious justice upon themselves but fighting garrisons and turning corner cafes into strongholds.


I did my duty as an officer of the Empire, but as supreme commander I neglected all to save one. I will not make that mistake again. The Grand Admiral did up his tunic collar and adjusted his Imperial Cross so that it lay perfectly atop his pristine uniform. The General Staff did well in my absance, but while military experts they lack the conviction to keep the politicians from interfering in our affairs. But soon...


The silence of recrimination and introspection was piercing by the shrill wail of a comlink activator.


" Your Excellency, we have completed final reversion to realspace. We are in orbit of Coruscant."


Desaria turned in his high-backed chair and looked out the floor to ceiling viewport at the metropolis below.


I'm back.

[Telan Desaria]

Coruscant was alive as news spread of the first Grand Admiral to set foot on the capital since Endor. Civilian launches came out in drove to view Baron Desaria's flagship and were quickly chased off by lurking patrols of TIE Interceptors; unabashed, the craft kept coming and coming. As his shuttle exited the cavernous launch bay, two entire squadrons had to be detailed to escort it - not for security, but traffic control.


" Quite a bit of hype for me, wouldn't you say?"


Brigadier General Maxim sighed and only continued to glance out of the shuttle's viewport at the sprawling city. Despite six months as the Grand Admiral's Chief Staff Officer, he could not help but marvel at the political naiveté of his charge. [i]Perhaps why is such an excellent soldier.


" Sir, the people are well aware of the climate. There is no Emperor, only a few men in power who at any moment could come to blows. They do not want to be walking to the store amid a rain of proton bombs. What's more, they know as long as you are here, you won't let that happen."


The Grand Admiral stood and moved to the seat behind, taking for himself a bottle of tea. " Any one that would needs to be shot."


Through the clouds, the shuttle descended until it and four Interceptors skimmed the highest level of the planet's hab-blocks. People had gathered to gaze and cheer, and with them a cordon of police and civil defense personnel to hold them back. The crowds stood in throngs around the walls of the Imperial Palace as the shuttle landed, kept in check by a security system they could not fathom in their wildest dreams - this had once been the Emperor's Lair.


" Bring me Chancellor Anar."

[Tiberius Anar]

Six months of racing from one crisis to the next had taken a considerable toll upon the Chancellor. He was tired and irritable and now he had a Grand Admiral sitting outside his door. Well, actually, sitting in the High Command, demanding his presence there.

Absolutely not.

"Arrange an appointment for the admiral," he told the secretary who had brought him the preremptory summons. "Sometime in the late afternoon I think."

Let us remember who I am. Anar thought to himself. I may not have a lovely white uniform and ships to play with but I am the Chancellor of the Empire. And, he smirked at the now empty room before him, I have a say in his budget.

[Telan Desaria]

The Grand Admiral received the news of the Chancellor's refusal to see him with the stoic grace one would expect from a member of the Twelve. However, behind the emerald eyes that had gazed upon so much death and destruction, there flashed a spark of rage that would now need to be extinguished. The only way that could happen was the fulfillment of a vendetta, sworn that moment in the silence of a Palace Corridor. A litany of jackbooted heels clicking on the tiled floor was the commencement of the oath, the turning of a corner its conclusion.


Injured I have been, even defeated - these are the expectations of an officer. Insulted, now that is not something I need to tolerate.


Baron Desaria strode past the antechamber that lead into the opulent offices of the Chancellor and his staff and thought of smirking or stopping and leaving some snide comment with a secretary or aide but quickly thought better of it: he was a Grand Admiral and beyond pettyness. But vengeance, now that was quite Imperial.


" General Maxim," Desaria called to his Chief of Staff, trailing behind him. " I believe Commodore Aurelius is in orbit. Please see to it that he is invited to my table for dinner."

[Telan Desaria]

The dinner was as regal as it could have been, a far cry from the simple rendezvous intended by two attendees. An invitation from one senior officer to an Academy classmate quickly spiraled in three hours' time to a reception of a Moff, his entire staff, and a dozen others invited by those not invited in the first place. Instead of a simple meal in a quiet conference room the encounter had to be relocated into a dining hall for the social elite who once frequented the Emperor's company on Coruscant. There was music and dancing and a four-course meal after extravagant appetizers: all of this the Grand Admiral was accustomed to for before he had ever become a soldier, he was born an aristocrat.


I had simply not intended to be one tonight!


Try as he might to steal a moment alone with the good Commodore, the corpulent form of Moff Kladdis always managed to get in his way, regaling him with aggrandized tales of his sector group's heroics against mighty pirate lords. Reality, according to reports, was good deal less kind.


" Ah yes Admiral you should have seen it. They struck right at Emori itself, emerging from hyperspace directly over my capital. Even my palace was threatened! There was only a line of TIEs and some corvettes to stop them - or so they thought! The Kamarov reverted shortly afterwards and tore through the pirates like a flamethrower to a glacier! I don't know if even you could have done better!"


Desaria shuddered as the fat man laughed, his jowls shaking as he did reminding the Grand Admiral to make a personal vow of hunger for the next week. " Ah, Minister Dref, this is Moff Kladdis from Emori,I don't believe you've met."


The Grand Admiral thanked the heavens as the hapless Deputy-Minister of Health for the Core was buffeted by the Moff's self-absorbed rantings. He quickly introduced the civilian politician and slipped away through the crowd. He almost grabbed Aurelius and made a quiet escape into the vacant corridor.


" Your Excell-"


Desaria interrupted him curtly. " The next time I invite you to dinner, do NOT let the Moff you are escorting to Imperial Center know about it. He then thinks it is an invitation to him, and then he brings his staff, and they bring whomever they feel like bringing!"


" I'm sorry, Grand Admiral."


" As well you should be." Desaria regarded the shorter officer and remembered the diminutive underclassmen who was generally teased by many of his peers. His eyes, however, had been the envy of many for there was no one including instructors who could more accurately guess the range of a target from a gun than he. " I have one question, Cassius."


The Commodore thought for a moment as he tried to guess the query to be; his eyes flashed when he struck upon an answer. " You want to build it?"


Baron Desaria's face twisted into a mischevious grin. " My dear Commodore, we already have. Your design was never rejected by the Department of Military Research, it was simply never responded to. They kept it on file when you left the Academy and did what they do best. It has of course never been used or even tested since, no offense, everyone was busy with bigger and better things."


Almost as if he reverted to his Academy self, the Commodore looked dejected as if his feelings were hurt.


" Commodore, the Death Stars were a wee bit more time consuming to construct that your creation. Besides, since the Rebellion was so fluid the High Command never saw a use for it. Now, however, that they've started claiming worlds and systems, your invention is perfect to hurt them."


The Grand Admiral paused for a moment and looked at the smaller man, his own eyes alight with the possibilities in existence.


" Commodore Aurelius, I want you to take command of Andromeda."

[Tiberius Anar]

It had been two days since the missed meeting between the admiral and the chancellor. Anar had been vexed that Desaria had not come at the arranged time. He suspected that the admiral had felt slighted by the delay (that had been Anar's intention) and, in a fit of pique, chosen not to attend. Desaria, he should have realised, would not react in the same way as a politician: brazening it out.

A misstep there, I fear. No matter, it can be rectified.

He was, at that point, passing down one of the Palace hallways- returning from a ceremonial function to his own office on the other side of the complex. He had the usual staff aides and bodyguards in tow as he rounded a corner and came face to face with the very man on whom his thoughts had been fixed. Grand Admiral Telan Desaria...

[Telan Desaria]

When Grand Admiral Desaria left Commodore Aurelius alone with his thoughts in the vacant corridor, the slightly younger officer was positively glowing. As well he should have been - the project he was now in command of had been his brainchild. Initially merely an idea then the centerpiece of his graduation project, Andromeda had been his preoccupation throughout his Academy days. To hear that it had not only been seriously considered but brought to life filled Aurelius with a drive that had been all but stagnated as the garrison commander - an de facto escort - to Moff Kladdis's capitol.


Desaria was pleased with the outcome; no man knew the device better. Who better to command a ship than its very designer? Chuckling slightly to himself, the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy took his pair of bodyguards in tow and started off to the office that came with his rank but had, to date, never been in.


So long among the stars and in the halls of so many different commands, I'd forgotten I had an office!


The Grand Admiral began thinking as the litany of jackbooted feet upon polished marble echoed through the corridor - what would be the best venue for Andromeda's debut? So many possible answers flooded his mind, he reasoned that time would needed.


Time was not to present itself before the Grand Admiral, however, not now at least. Time to think ended abruptly as the robed figure of the Lord High Chancellor of the Empire, Regent in all but name, and his entourage approached. Chiseled features on the Grand Admiral's face turned to stone; he became emotionless, stoic. He stopped and regarded the older man, a wise and crafty individual whose goals and true ambitions were shrouded in mystery. Did he serve the Empire?


Or himself?


Desaria stood there in the pale light of floor-to-ceiling glow rods and waiting for Anar to make the first move.

[Tiberius Anar]

Anar did not miss a beat, with every appearance of pleasure he greeted the head of the navy. His had was around Desaria's in the twinkling of the eye, a surprisingly firm grip for one of his build and years.

"Admiral, what a delightful surprise," he smiled, "I had feared that we would not be meeting during this visit. So terribly difficult to co-ordinate schedules in these busy times, don't you find."

[Telan Desaria]

" Indeed I do, Lord Chancellor; how hectic it is to be the head of anything. Despite being men of power and station we find ourselves unable to make even the smallest decisions without giving those decisions such thought and care."


The Grand Admiral wondered whether the politician would notice the slight gibe alluding to their earlier encounter when the older man had all but come out and insulted the flag officer. Of course he would notice, the man had a rapier wit and exceptional sense of self - he had to be has a high as was.


" For the last several months I have been too occupied, moving from fire to fire throughout the realm that we've not even had the chance to speak. My sincere apologies. Busy work, crushing rebellion after rebellion."

[Tiberius Anar]

"Indeed," agreed Anar, "For which we are all extremely grateful."

Though the side effects of that gratitude can be somewhat irritating.

"Walk with me, Admiral." His hand indicated a cross-corridor branching off from the junction where they had met.

[Telan Desaria]

" Of course."


Hidden in the recesses of the Grand Admiral's soul was the urge to draw his sidearm and put a shot square in the sternum of his walking companion. Of course that not have done, a Grand Admiral shooting an unarmed Chancellor. No, the times were set for much subtler intrigue, the time of poisoned brandy and tampered-with shuttle reactors.


Such a time I despise. We must fight the enemy and not each other.


Therein lie the true conundrum. The Grand Admiral many years ago had forsworn himself to the pursuit of order and justice and the supremacy of the Empire, one voice dictating over many to stem the tides of chaos too fast encroaching on society. While the Grand Admiral despised politicians as self serving and disloyal, he needed this one. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could bend the Chancellor to his own cause, which was the cause of the Empire's survival. Sure enough, the Chancellor saw that as his own aim too, but Desaria needed someone who could move beyond politics and maneuvering and deals made out of handshakes and devilish grins concealed behind amicable smiles.


The Grand Admiral needed the Chancellor. The Chancellor could not maintain power without the armed forces behind him, and the armed forces followed where the Grand Admirals - what remained of them - lead. So theirs was to be a symbiotic relationship. Perhaps it did not need to be fueled by animosity.


The Kuati nobleman set upon a course. It takes a brave man to lead. Time to prove that these medals were earned and not parcelled out.


" So Chancellor, yours has been a tough assignment as well. There are many eyes on the throne now, many eyes seeking it for themselves. How difficult it must be to hold the reigns and fight off attackers with only two hands. How effectively can you do either task when forced to do both at once?"

[Tiberius Anar]

"I do not have any inclinations towards the throne, Admiral," replied Anar, "I simply wish to be of service to the State as I have always been."

[Telan Desaria]

" Spoken like a devotee of the Empire, Chancellor; words are easy to come by these days, however - too easy. We are set upon by wolves on every side. Only the strength of our backs and the steel of our wills will see us surviving such a fiery trial."


The Grand Admiral and the Chancellor turned a corner and slowly stepped onto a lengthy corridor that ran atop the Palace's grand reception hall, an enormous room ten levels in height and trimmed in the most lavish stone credits could purchase. On either side the two men could look down and revel in the luxury that was the Empire. Such luxury was a relic, though, of a time when the galaxy was at peace.


" You may not want the throne, Chancellor, but you are its protector. I leave those kinds of semantics up to you - I am a soldier. I fight battles with ships and men and guns, all other actions I shall have to rely on you for. Which brings me to another matter. Production of battleships from Kuat has slowed considerably of late. Do you have a reliable Minister of Procurement who can look into this matter? I need not tell you how dire the need is to replace our losses."

[Tiberius Anar]

OOC: Too much?

"We do all we can or at least all that we dare do to support the war effort. You realise that there are limits, of course."

Of course he does, he just doesn't understand their significance. There are only so many yards, only so many workers we can drum into service, only so many hours in the day. Only so much that men can bear.

"I shall have the Ministers of Resource and of Industry do what they can. Perhaps it will be enough."

He paused in his by one of the pillars that formed a part of the balcony's bulastrade. There was a moment of silence and then he squared his shoulders.

"Come with me."

***

They had left the reception hall; the foot falls of the two men and their respective bodyguards were all the sound for some minutes. They moved deeper into the Palace, away from the public areas. Along the way they encountered only the occasional maintenance or cleaning droid: these areas had been little used even six months ago. Now that the Emperor was gone no-one came here.

They entered a chamber shrouded in darkness. The party was dimly aware that the room was circular, though the walls were lost in shadows. Anar slipped his hand inside his robes and pulled out a slim device: a remote control of some sort.

Where there had been darkness, now there were lights. Thousands of glittering lights each one hanging in the void as a star does. The Galaxy, rendered in three dimensions, hung above their heads.

[Telan Desaria]

The display was impressive, one that never ceased to awe the Grand Admiral. Every flagship of every line officer possessed such a model - good strategy required precise perception.

" Beautiful," Desaria murmured, low enough that the Chancellor doubtless didn't hear him.

[Tiberius Anar]

Anar caught a shisper of something from the naval man, some expression of awe. Whilst, as a senior flag officer, Desaria had no doubt seen such things before this model was far more intricate than all but a few otherts. It was as much a work of art as a tool.

They stood in silence for a while, admiring the atrifical stars in their twinkling splendor.

[Telan Desaria]

" The Empire is fragile these days, more so than we let on to the public. WE must stand united to prevent its fall. I will die before I see anarchy reign over my home. I pray your resolve is as strong."


The Grand Admiral gazed into the swirling mass of systems, taking note of nebulae, rogue stars, comets, even lifeless worlds long abandon by a sun's warm embrace.


" You need the support of the Fleet to rule, I need you to support the Fleet. Hopefully we will not find ourselves on opposite sides of the table."

[Tiberius Anar]

"You forget that the State needs both of us and we, above all need the State. Without it you and I and trillions of beings would be doomed to short and horribly uncomfortable lives."

How very like such people to forget that which surrounds and binds us all. The parochial view is taken even men supposedly great it seems.

"The Emperor used to come here you know, he would spend long stretches of time looking at this model, contemplating the Galaxy and the future," he looked at the admiral, inspecting him closely, "What do you see?"

[Telan Desaria]

The Grand Admiral paused for a moment, his hopes of cooperation an amiability dashed by the aloofness of the master politician.


" I see Chaos, Lord Chancellor. Thousands of world without order, without protection; worlds we will try to protect and bring order to. I see infinite possibilities for glory and victory, but also of defeat and pain if we fail."

[Tiberius Anar]

He thinks aloud and it reveals his motivations. 'Glory' is clearly of importance to him. Perhaps more so than anything else...

"I see much the same as you, Admiral, but I think my response to it is somewhat different."

[Telan Desaria]

Some time later...


Damn that man.


A breath of wind pushed over the railing and into the garden, rustling leaves and branches alike. With the breeze came the smells of a growing city, a city that never slept. Exhaust fumes, sweat, grease, foods of a million kinds, all blended together into one smell most visitors to Coruscant would not get used to for hours. Alone in the open-air lounge high above the capitol compound of the Palace, Grand Admiral Desaria breathed deeply. The smell had become familiar to him. Too familiar, in fact.


He is right. Our methods are different. I've grown too comfortable here, doing more administrative work than a Grand Admiral should.


The Grand Admiral exhaled, a puff of cigarra smoke growing in front of him as he did. He sighed, resigned to the constraints of reality; more appropriately, he looked like a man slapped in the face. Tiberius Anar, Lord Chancellor of the Empire and second only to the Executor in political power, had been the man to remind him of his duty; bad enough that he, the great Telan Desaria, needed to be reminded, but by a scheming, plotting politician made the truth all the harder to swallow. But it was still the truth. Of course Desaria could justify what he was doing, what he had done. He had not been idle on Imperial Center; he was reforming the Military, sweeping away corruption and ambition and selfishness.


Trying to, anyway. I have made poor use of the General Staff, of my staff, of the officers and men who are trained to be bureaucrats. I am a Grand Admiral, I need to be out there.


Desaria looked up from the reclined chair up towards where the stars should have been, obscured by light pollution from the endless cityscape round the Palace. The darkness and glow was inviting, a thousand worlds dancing before his mind's eye. The stars called to him. He took a look at the handrolled cigarra clasped between two slender fingers on his right hand. What a sight he was, a Grand Admiral laying in a white-coloured lawn chair, gazing into oblivion. Uncharacteristic at best.


Disgusted, he flicked the cigarra over the rail, letting it tumble dozens of storeys down to the ground. Powerful arms hefted his form from the chair, gloved hands brushed a light covering of dust from his jackboots. He growled and decided his reign on Coruscant was over - it was time to fight once more.