Ad augusta per angusta

[Constantia Visputin]

Most individuals, when asked to speak in front of large groups of people, experienced anxiety and nervousness to the point where throats contracted, rendering them speechless. With shaking hands they stood in front of the crowd, brow wetted by sweat, unsure of themselves and the ideas they intended to pass across. Constantia Visputin was of another, far rarer kind. Confident and bold, she was a natural born orator who had honed her skills at Corulag University of Economics, one of the best business colleges in galaxy at large. Often partaking in public debates and panel discussions, Visputin maintained an image of a renowned expert in trade and economic policy which eventually earned her a place in the Empress' cabinet. To serve as the emissary of Miranda Tarkin herself was a great honour, one that Constantia did not take so lightly; sent to the Colonies world of Carida, the minister was to give a speech at the graduating ceremony of a new generation of Imperial cadets.

"On the behalf of Her Majesty Empress Miranda Tarkin, please welcome Her Excellency Minister Constantia Visputin, who will address the graduates." a senior officer announced and extended a hand towards the honorific seating at the front of the stage. Visputin rose from her seat, clad in a dark green dress accentuating her voluptuous figure and walked to the middle of the stage, alluringly swinging from side to side. It was not a conscious feat, but rather an inherently sensual gesture in the vein of Constantia's salacious nature. Why not use it against crude Imperial men and have the galaxy wide-eyed every time she appeared on holo-vision? In love and politics, all was allowed, the old saying claimed...

Picking up the seam of the dress to stand on the soap box, she placed her hands widely on the wooden podium. Like every time up until now, Visputin was to give an impromptu speech. Emerald eyes scanned across the auditorium, rummaging through heaps of youthful faces hidden under the shadows of traditional Imperial caps.

"The Empress regrets she could not be with you on this day, the day that will be the beginning of the rest of your lives. Her heart and mind is with you, cadets. I can assure of that.” Visputin began meekly, then let her gaze fall to the brim of the elevated podium surface. She let an idle moment pass in complete silence, gathering her thoughts.

“There are times when I come home to an empty apartment. Mothers of the Empire, I’m sure you know how this feels… You have invested your last breath, coin and sweat to raise a child in good faith, implant them with values and morale that make the spine of our society. And then you unselfishly let your most precious sons and daughters into the hands of the Empire, into the hands of our instructors… Who are merciless, who push limits of durability, who test and assess… only to select the best pupils, continuing the tradition of excellence in the Imperial Navy. Those who have passed all the exams, lived up to the challenge of Imperial service, stand now before us, ready to serve. To serve! So that the rest of us may continue living in a just world and sleep soundly at night. To fly under the Imperial banner is to recognize order and peace in the galaxy. Mothers of the Empire – be proud! Sons and daughters of the Empire – be proud!” the redhead exclaimed, raising both hands in the air, palms facing upwards.

“Through you, the Empire lives! Long live the Empire, long live our Empress!” Constantia voiced loudly into the microphone, and the crowd echoed her words unanimously several times –
Long live the Empire, long live our Empress…
Long live the Empire, long live our Empress…
Long live the Empire, long live our Empress…
Visputin nodded in confirmation, with hands still raised to rile up the masses as much as possible, before turning a palm towards the auditorium to quiet them. When the last murmur died out, Constantia spoke again.

“I wish you clear skies, cadets. May the stars witness your greatness. Thank you.”
The minister then stepped away from the podium and returned to her seat amidst other high-officials, quite satisfied with the response she received from the Empire’s youth.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Seated off to the side were the high commissioned officers in attendance for the Academy's graduation. It was customary during graduation classes to have an entourage of notable officers to oversee the events, and with Minister Visputin being tapped for speech duty, Captain Rolth Wygraant made sure that his schedule would be cleared to attend as well.

It certainly helped that Decimator was berthed at Carida herself, due for crew rotations and regular maintenance. It gave him plenty of excuse to attend the Academy's event, and watch his wife give her speech. With his event's program holoflimsy curled up in one hand, he watched her speak with a leg crossed knee over knee, and reciprocated the boistrous chorus of the graduates below with a soft clap from black-gloved hands, but a face otherwise showing little of that sort of passion.

He noted with some irritation her choice of attire to the event. It was a dress that wasn't nearly as austere as he would expect her to be seen wearing in public. And of course, with half the holorecorders in the star system watching her at this moment, he noted with some bitterness. Yes, so much of her position as a Minister meant that she had to be careful about her public image, but to the Imperial Destroyer captain, he still disapproved of the way she sold herself to the audience.

Even still, it was a good speech. She had a talent for oratory to rival her talents within the Commerce Ministry, and it certainly energized the base. There were, certainly, dozens of graduates here that he expected to join the officer's pool for his own starship within the week. All that remained was to interview the ones he intended to draw from the pool, but he put that matter of busy work out of his mind. He was ready for this event to come to a close, and to have a more quiet evening, hopefully over dinner and away from the public's eye.

[Constantia Visputin]

Attending the last formalities, Constantia meandered through a sea of officers congregating at the graduation reception. Her security guards made space for her to walk and greet all the dignitaries, exchanging small talk and hand-shake here and there. Seemingly, everybody wanted to meet her and talk to her; Visputin endured enormous amounts of attention with relative stoicism. Not once did her smile or manners falter, grace and elegance in conduct becoming a hallmark of her public persona. With captivating charisma, Visputin conversed with the Academy's dean before he retrieved to his office on duty. This was, after all, just another day at the Academy, with new recruits awaiting instruction.

"Until we meet next, professor." the redhead greeted, retrieving her hand after the dean administered an airy kiss. She loathed the gentleman tradition; the only lips she wanted on the back of her palm were those of Rolth Wygraant.
A wave of hand dismissed personal guards; slowly, Constantia ambled to the balcony, picking up a glass of champagne from a passing tray. The afternoon was lazily drawing to an end, red orb of Caridan hanging low over the horizon.

The minister stood by an officer bearing the insignia of Captain, a man to whom she pledged her eternal love. She knew how much both of them needed to uphold a proper public image, thus remained at a respectable distance.
"I thought you were busy and would not attend." she voiced quietly, remembering their last night's rather unpleasant talk over the holonet. A part of her felt sorry for hanging up, yet no of that remorse surfaced now. Constantia held the glass up and drew in a plentiful sip of the bubbly beverage before giving her husband a slant glance.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"I made time for it."

Rolth answered his wife curtly, tucking his programme under his arm as she opened an old wound from the night before. Despite the unwelcome subject matter, he greeted her with a small kiss to her cheek.

"It helps that Moff Wulen also wished to attend. My sector patrol debriefing was...postponed."

He afforded her a thin smile.

"You did well this evening. The cadets seemed to enjoy the speech."

[Constantia Visputin]

"As long as they start believing in those words as much as I do... All will be well." she retorted, mirroring his smile. It was so rarely that he did smile these days, when most of their attempted conversation would turn into quarrels. A temporary crisis, Visputin assured herself.

"It's funny, isn't it? Some of the lads I was speaking to would end up serving aboard your ship. Honestly, there were times when I considered joining the Academy just so to be placed aboard with you. And thus see my husband more often." the redhead offered over a light, kind-hearted chuckle. The lustre in her eyes indicated longing; it had been almost a month since they had some time together, as duties had kept them apart.

"How long do you have?" Constantia inquired, turning to face him fully - "I hope its more than mere hours this time."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Rolth dismissed her notions of service aboard a Star Destroyer. The reality of the matter is that a Destroyer was a man's world. There was no place for a woman aboard his ship, and as much as he cared for her, she would be a distraction, even if there was a position she could fill.

He knew the reason she lapsed into this hypothetical however. It had most certainly been too long for both of them.

"We are in orbit for the week. Of that time, I expect half of it to be dominated by the Moff and other matters aboard Decimator"

He waved the thought of that away with his hand.

"We have time enough, Constantia. Dinner?"

[Constantia Visputin]

"Are you asking me on a date, Captain?" the minister quizzed playfully, pasting her lips to the brim of the glass. The champagne served was exquisite, its aroma satisfying even the most profound taste-buds. One glass would suffice, for the time being.

"I'd have to think about it. You know, with my tight schedule and all..." she continued, the smile on her face turning into a grin. Eyeing him from behind her glass, Constantia finished her drink.

"Pick me up at Corusca Plaza up on Spinara Plateau at eight hundred hours sharp. And wear your uniform... you know how much I like your officer's uniform..." Visputin added, then turned on her heel to head for the exit, with intention of spending a good two hours in rose-scented, bubbly bath before meeting her husband for dinner.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Rolth didn't particularly care for the pomp that was inevitably expected with a word like "date". He understood, however, that they had so little time together that even this bit of silliness was something for him to endure to get time alone.

"Eight hundred hours then."

Having him in uniform would be no difficult task. It simply meant that he didn't have to worry over a change in clothes. He watched his wife leave, wondering with some bit of absurdity why she insisted he chase her when she was arguably already his. He would never understand that.



Later in the evening, 8.00 evening time
Corusca Plaza, Spinara Plateau - Carida

Giving a short tug to the bottom of his officer's jacket, Rolth removed his cap, placing it in the crook of his arm as he hit the comm at the door of the Plaza.

"Captain Wygraant, here for Minister Visputin."

He rang the reception droid, who would pass the message onto his wife. He expected her down shortly.

[Constantia Visputin]

In a matter of minutes, a comely figure appeared at the top of the staircase of the hotel lounge, wrapped in a dark blue silken dress (http://collegecandy.files.wordpress.com/2009/09/christina-hendricks1.jpg?w=361&h=600) that Visputin purchased on her last visit to Procopia. Textile dragged behind her like a nightly drapery as she descended down to the lobby where her husband awaited. As always, he was painfully punctual.

"So, where are you taking me, Rolth ?" she asked upon pecking his cheek; Constantia would have kissed him properly, but not when security was watching. While other Imperials had no problems with even attending to their martial duties under the watch of their guards, the minister found it appallingly disturbing. Perhaps it was just another display of Imperial decadence.

"I'm starving. Better make it some place where I will not be ashamed to ask for seconds." the redhead said and licked her lips, before slipping her hand to his forearm.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Rolth frowned a little at that, imagining some terrible fuss made over a large meal. It wasn't worth bickering over. In marriage, you chose your battles wisely.

"The usual."

There was little in the way of variety and fuss that Captain Wygraant cared for, and he preferred having just a few establishments to frequent where he would be surprised as little as possible, rather than a large assortment of places where the quality would vaccilate between the fantastic to the deplorable. The restaurant he chose Ullienne, was Chandrilan cuisine done in a textbook fashion. The same dishes as in nearly any other Chandrilan restaurant, with as little variation as possible. Certainly high class and expensive fare, but absolutely nothing unexpected.

Rolth's driver escorted both husband and wife to the speeder, and they were off to Ullienne. Sitting in the back of the speeder, the Captain was initially quiet, his hands placed in his lap as he looked ahead at the cityscape.

"You changed your dress. I like that one better."

[Constantia Visputin]

While Rolth enjoyed his routine, Constantia loved tasting exotic cuisines. Unlike her husband, she was not picky when it came to food(one could tell by her curves!) nor did she reject notions of trying something new every time. At times, trying domestic specialities was a display of appreciation of one culture. If nothing else, being open-minded regarding meals was a part of her job. Wygraant, on the other hand, probably spent months eating one and the same breakfast, lunch and dinner out of the replicator. Visputin gave up cooking long time ago.

"I did." the redhead confirmed, glancing sideways - "Dark blue is your favourite colour."
Her palm found its way to his lap, cupping the knuckles of his left hand. It was the first physical contact they had in more than a month.

"I'm sorry about last night." she apologized, lips thinning in sincere regret - "Last week had been really stressful... I have three speeches to give, a construction site to visit, meet with the central bank governor... I didn't mean to take it out on you. Forgive me, please."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"We're both under pressure, dear."

He nodded in a small motion of his head, placing his right hand over her own as well.

"It's expected. I'm certain there are times I too am distant."

He was used to speaking in terse phrases, and packaging his intent into commands. Talking to his wife, as an equal (and to some extent, something more than that) forced him to become more introspective than he was often comfortable showing.

"I think I'm becoming weary of the Outer Rim, truth be told."

Discussing work was sometimes a dangerous prospect. Here, it was one of the few safe harbors he had.

[Constantia Visputin]

"You could always ask for a teaching position. The Carida Dean spoke highly of you. However, he did laugh when I told him we were married. Apparently, you successfully maintained an image of an eternal bachelor before I came along." she jested, squeezing his hand while her lips stretched into a wide smile. It was remarkable how different they were at times; while Constantia sprawled with life, Wygraant oft came off as tired of life in general. Despite all her attempts to revive him, Rolth remained passive and uninterested.

"Can't you ask for a transfer, somewhere closer to the Core? Do you want me to talk to people, I'm sure I can persuade the Admiral to re-assign your ship closer to home..." she trailed off, remembering how much he disliked when she pulled rank on him. Yes, her word was almost as good as that of the Empress herself, but it gave her no right to meddle with military protocols and procedures.
"...so we can work on Wygraant Jr." the minister added in a whisper, gently tugging him on the sleeve.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Absolutely not."

It came out with a bit more edge than he intended, and he paused, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, his features softened.

"I don't want an administrative posting, and I don't want anything I don't earn myself. My calling is command. Not some outlying backwater like the sectors I've been posted to for the past year. Real command, with a squadron actively pursuing the enemy, rather than hoping for any kind of contact in a patch of space the galaxy forgot."

He chewed over his words, trying to carefully choose them.

"Constantia, of course I want children. We both do. But not now, not now. It just wouldn't be right."

[Constantia Visputin]

Wygraant had been saying those exact same words for the past five years; whenever Constantia tried to bring up the subject of offspring, her husband would come up with a plethora of reasons why this was a bad time to have children. Finally, they had enough money to provide kids with the best care and education credits could buy... yet Rolth still remained uninterested. Seemingly, his idea of contraception was to avoid any form of intimacy.

"Of course." the redhead retorted simply, hiding her doubts behind a meek smile. There was nothing left to be said on the subject, hence she let go.

"Have you ever told anybody what you want, apart from me? If you keep sending jolly reports to the headquarters, how in the name of the Empire, would they ever know of the dissatisfaction with your current post? Do you see me waiting for others to spot my talents? Remember how I got this job? I applied. It shows determination and ambition. How are you ever to display your skills as commander if all you do is escort junk freighters around?" she discoursed, drawing her hand out of his. It was easier to make a Hutt dance than maim any kind of emotionally charged response from Rolth Wygraant. Notwithstanding, his wife persisted.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Rolth endured her efforts to arouse his ambition. She never understood, it wasn't for lack of ambition that kept him in this rut. It was the lack of an opportunity, and in some ways - painfully, his own pride. He had refused to use his wife's lofty connections for a better command. He had to wonder how long his resistance would last. And if he surrendered there, what other battles would he lose?

"All it takes is one chance engagement with the rebels for me to show my mettle, dear. Perhaps my big catch just hasn't come up for a bite yet."

He afforded her a half smile.

"I've come this far, perhaps it's only best to consider this posting a temporary setback. All it takes is one chance to shine with the right people to see it, and I'll have my own squadron."

[Constantia Visputin]

That spark in his eyes Constantia had only seen when he spoke about work, his ship and the Navy in general. Sometimes, she'd deliberately ask him to explain the integral parts of the Imperial Fleet, so just to watch him burn with passion when he spoke of Star Destroyers and starfighter squadrons. Eventually, she would fall asleep like that, on his shoulder, only to wake up on the exact same couch in their living room the next morning. Unsurprisingly, Rolth had left for bed upon realizing his wife had fallen asleep.

"You will get your chance." she encouraged, despite his ignorance regarding former topic of conversation - "Of that, I'm quite sure."
Another piece of information had crossed her mind then, one she forgot mentioning before.

"By the way, they called from the Varykino sanatorium last week. Your mother had disappeared from the clinical infirmary, so I paid Naboo a brief visit. I found her wondering the main street of Theed in her nightgown. How she managed to traverse from Lake Country to the capital, I have no idea. We spent the rest of the day walking through Theed before I returned her to the clinic, as she wanted to buy herself some nice clothes. She keeps forgetting who I am though and keeps calling me Elma. Again. I don't think she has that much lucid time left, Rolth." the redhead debriefed him, two fingers pressed against her lips as a sign of worry. Not even the best health care was able to reverse or even freeze the effects of degenerative mental diseases. If there was a way, Constantia would take care of Rolth's mother by herself as she always made the minister feel most welcome into the Wygraant family. Unfortunately, it was only wishful thinking given her line of work, but it was the intent that counted.

[Rolth Wygraant]

This elicited a response from Rolth, and he gave Constantia's hand a squeeze.

"I need to make time to visit."

He frowned, reluctant to admit some of his own weakness.

"I think for so long I've not made the time, just because it frustrates me to see her in that condition. I know there's nothing to be done, but a part of me just can't accept that's all we can offer her. I'm afraid to see her in that state, and to worry that the woman I look at has so little to resemble my mother."

Introspection was rare to the Captain, and he pressed his dry lips together to wet them.

"I have only a few months before we rotate back to home port for a six month leave. Perhaps we can spend time on Theed. I have connections on Naboo, and may have access to a summer villa."

[Constantia Visputin]

"We've done what was best for her. From what your mother told me, she enjoys Lake Country very much. Reminds her of childhood, she said." Constantia reassured, placing her hand atop of his. Despite his stoic facial expression, sorrow delineated in his dark blue eyes. Visputin only imagined how terrible must one feel when watching their mother wither away like a flower in autumn, crumbling down into but a shadow of her former self. Having never known neither of her parents, Constantia sympathized nevertheless.

"Also, you know I can't plan that far ahead. With the current situation, gods know where I will be in several months time..."
She withdrew to press fingers against her temples, drawing air in through her teeth.
"...and I don't want to think about that now."

As the speeder stopped, the minister regarded her husband through her fingers.
"Let's just have dinner, drink a bottle of fine wine and go home to sleep. Just the two of us. Not the crew of The Decimator, relatives or the cabinet of the Empress."
When the door on her side slid open, the minister picked up the tail of her dress.
"Let's go. I can't hear my own thoughts over the rumble in my stomach." she said, slipping out of the vessel.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Agreed."

Wygraant had no intentions of letting his military life interfere tonight. He was glad for the welcome distractions.

Escorting his wife in, he nodded to the chief waiter, who already had their private room set aside. It commanded a view over the rest of the establishment, but kept out of the way of everyone so that it offered a modicum of privacy. The wait staff stood at the periphery, giving the Captain enough room to be able to pull Constantia's seat away from the table to seat her.

[Constantia Visputin]

"Thank you." said Constantia and sat down, immediately unfolding the napkin into her lap. The sense of privacy the room gave was rather refreshing as the minister finally did not feel like the object of gawking in a radius of a mile. As almost every evening, Ullienne was crowded with people waiting at the door for a free table; it seemed easier to make an appointment with the Empress than get reservations here.

"I'll let my husband order for me." the redhead said when offered a menu, waving her hand dismissively. It was easier to leave the choice to him; the bleakness of the restaurant probably made him feel like at home.

"Wine, Rolth. Red." she added, reminding him before he even opened his mouth to utter a single word of his order. She looked forward to that one glass too much, which would conveniently lull her into dreams as soon as she touched bed.

"How are you? I haven't seen you for longer than a month." Visputin inquired softly, hands folding across her lap, an amiable smile curving her plump lips.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Make that two."

The Captain passed the wine list to their waiter and let him retrieve the house vintage for them. He didn't usually deviate from that choice.

How are you? Rolth fiddled with his napkin as he considered that question, and whether it warranted an honest response. Sometimes it was simply said for ambiance. He opted for honesty. After all, the night was going well enough.

"A little tired, admittedly. In some cosmic paradox, it is more taxing to leave a Star Destroyer in home port than it is to patrol in deep space. The change of routine is welcome, and of course, I have missed you."

He smiled as the waiter returned with two broad-rimmed glasses and the house red.

"I'm sure even my busy day is dwarfed by your own. The Empress is a demanding boss, yes?"