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View Full Version : Anomalies, Part 1 - Prometheus Bound



Amés Falcon Liszt
Sep 27th, 2011, 08:41:27 PM
A few months After Endor

Footsteps echoed up and down the corridor. The rhythm was regular and confident, yet it was not the booted march of a soldier, nor the overconfident shuffle of the scientists who usually frequented these halls. In fact, it was a combination of two pairs of starkly contrasting feet: the casual and relentless bureaucratic footsteps of Sir Amés Falcon Liszt, mixed with the steady clack of heels from his assistant, E'anen Brast.

"I don't know how you even manage to walk in those," Sir Amés muttered, breaking the otherwise total silence that had followed them all the way from the landing bay.

In truth, Sir Amés was unsettled, and that didn't happen very often. Things had changed drastically for him in the last few weeks and months and, while his Tapani upbringing prevented his discomfort from manifesting as anything other than the occasional disgruntled sigh, it was taking considerable adjustment.

Not that he was unqualified or unprepared, of course: following the deaths and disappearences of many of the Imperial leadership in the wake of the Battle of Endor, he had finally achieved his career-long goal and earned a position as a Minister of the Galactic Empire. A lifelong bureaucrat, it was the pinacle of everything he had worked and aspired towards: for an administrator, there was no higher occupational achievement.

The discomfort came from the particular role. Sir Amés had dedicated his career to the Commission for the Preservation of the New Order. He had pioneered projects that implemented sweeping changes across countless sectors through the Coalition for Imprivements, and the Coalition for Progress. He had worked with the Sub-Adult Group, helping to promote the correct and proper education of the youth of the Empire; and in this new day and age, where the so-called Alliance to Restore the Republic glorified wanton acts of terrorism and violence, he had even cooperated closely with elements of the Imperial Security Bureau. His contributions had earned him a place on the Select Committee; and that in turn had led him here.

But becoming the Minister of the Interior for the Galactic Empire had put him in a position with a much broader scope than he had been prepared for. The entirity of COMPNOR now fell under his portfolio, and with it came the Imperial Security Bureau. Over the last few months he had spent longer reading security reports and military documents than he had spent sleeping; and the deprivation was beginning to take it's toll. Normally he would have relished a trip like this - an opportunity to escape from Imperial Center and it's relentless paperwork - but given the nature of his visit, it hardly promised to be a relaxing affair.

Far too much time had been spent of late with the enigmatic R.S. Esalis. Sir Amés knew nothing about her - which, given his resourcefulness, was alarming in itself - and that only served to make her presence more unsettling. The replacement for the late Ysanne Isard, the Director of Intelligence was a crucial collegue when it came to Security affairs. Unfortunately, she seemed to delight in emphasising just how little Sir Amés knew, by briefing him relentlessly on the covert projects that were hidden far from public knowledge.

For this particular project - one of the few projects where the entire clandestine community had cooperated - Esalis had insisted that Sir Amés visit in person. She had been somewhat vague about the specifics, claiming that it would be easier to simply see it for himself. He had agreed; but had regretted it as soon as Esalis had revealed more specifics.

First of all, the project was being hidden within the Maw Installation: a secret facility that Sir Amés had never heard of, buried within a tangle of black holes out near Kessel. The prospect of having to nagivate through a gravitational maze of certain death was unsettling enough; but once he had found out who would be briefing him, the twisting in his gut had become tighter.

Ahead of them, a set of doors stepped out, and a figure emerged. She looked as if she might have been beautiful once, but years of action and service seemed to have worn the edges of her looks a little rough. She was dressed simply; but despite the lack of uniform, it was clear she was a soldier. A warrior, even: not someone who merely marched and shot rifles, but who battled with her bare hands, and frequently won.

It took all the willpower that Sir Amés could muster to hide the mix of fear and distain from his voice. "You must be the Inquisitor," he said simply; the closest thing to pleasantries that he was prepared to offer.

Eve Barco
Sep 27th, 2011, 10:04:38 PM
"You must be the Minister," Eve replied with a carefully measured smile: the exact level of intensity that social interaction required, though it carried no warmth. Her eyes remained cold and detatched, laced with steel; and though her tone was pleasant enough there was a strange edge, like the platitudes of a female mantid as she seduced her unwitting mate, all the while preparing to convert his corpse into food for her young as soon as the act was completed.

For a moment her gaze flickered to E'anen, and flickers of contemplation sparked as she sized up the other visitor. A conclusion was drawn: an aide perhaps, or perhaps a mistress; certainly no one of consequence. Best left ignored.

She turned back to Sir Amés. "If your psychological profile is to be believed Minister, you have about as much tolerance for time-wasting as I do." She made the slightest of gestures towards the door behind her, and another unsettling smile tugged at her lips. "Shall we?"

Amés Falcon Liszt
Oct 2nd, 2011, 03:27:14 PM
There were times when manners were frustrating and inconvenient: irritating social graces that did nothing but get in the way of efficiency. Of course, as a product of Tapani Sector high society and private schooling, such reactions were soo deeply ingrained in him that they had become a subconscious reflex.

There were times however when being able to rely on the excuse of manners was a welcome rescue. As Amés bowed his head and gestured for Miss Barco to go first, he realised that this was one of those times.

I have no desire to be stabbed in the back today, thank you very much, his mind muttered, though fortunately his mouth knew to keep the sentiment private. Literally, or figuratively.

He waited patiently as Barco led them into the main facility, entering a corridor as unremarkable as the one Amés and E'anen had arrived through. Admittedly, he wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting: after all, most space-borne constructs had a certain generic, prefabricated quality to them. However, for all the dramatic mystery and back-room secrecy that surrounded the Maw Installation, he had hoped for something a little more visually spectacular.

This was all, well, disappointingly normal.

A frown formed on his features as he attempted to keep pace with the swift yet effortless movements of the Inquisitor. "What exactly is it you do here?" he asked: a simple enough question, or so he thought.

Eve Barco
Oct 2nd, 2011, 03:50:09 PM
Barco let a note of laughter escape.

"If I were to explain exactly, Minister," she said casually, not allowing her pace to falter or her gaze to deviate from the path ahead. "It would take years. And I'm making the rather generous assumption that you have the requisite understanding of science, engineering, and mathematics for any of it to make sense."

She let silence fall for a moment, allowing the bureaucrat the opportunity to seethe quietly to himself, before she addressed the question he had likely intended to ask.

"In simple terms, we -" She gestured around her, indicating the installation and, by extension, the researchers within it. "- develop the tools that allow the Tarkin Doctorine to function. Numerous avenues of covert research and development are explored here: perhaps our best-known achievement was the superlaser that lay at the heart of the Death Star."

She spoke as if it was nothing; as if a weapon capable of destroying entire planets was as trivial to her as the clasp that sealed the Minister's trousers. Her detachment was chilling; and the strange, mildly seductive note that she laced into her words made it all the more unsettling.

"My personal research," she continued, leading them down a corridor that branched off to the right, "Is much more subtle. It began eight or nine years ago; though it is only recently that we have been able to make any real headway."

Something in her tone made it feel like she was holding back: spoon-feeding information. Perhaps it was a sense of drama, slowly building up towards a dramatic reveal; perhaps she simply had such little respect for the Minister's intelligence that she did not think him capable of understanding it in any other way.

Their progress was halted as they reached another set of secure doors, two helmetless Stormtroopers standing guard. Barco paid no attention to them, though they clearly noticed her; they tensed in a mix of fear and respect.

Entering the laboratory that lay beyond, Barco finally came to a halt, turning on her heel to face the visiting bureaucrat and his lackey. "While engineers worked to develop a weapon capable of tearing apart planets through sheer force," she announced, her voice loud enough to capture the attention of the scattered researchers, "We began to experiment with a different kind of Force."

She gestured towards the laboratory's perimeter. "This is what we created."