The Art of Negotiation: Bastion Sector

[Taylor Millard]

Brevet Grand Admiral Taylor Millard stood aboard the bridge of the Imperial Star Destroyer Superior, his icy blue eyes gazing at the vastness of space. It had been several weeks since his return to the Empire, weeks still a bit volatile. When he and Darth Viscera, leader of the Empire's Military, met to negotitiate his return, Millard had been a bit skeptical about the entire procedure. After all, he had retired a decorated war hero with the honor and respect from his superiors and his subordinates. He'd been trained by Grand Admiral Thrawn in command, and by his own skill in piloting. He was one of the Empire's best. And now he was back in service.

"General Tomar," he said, his voice booming through the bridge, "Time for our arrival?"

"Ten minutes, sir" his protege spoke from his location near navigation, "We will be in the Bastion Sector in 10 Minutes."

"Excellent, General. Our information is correct? Vice Admiral Lebron is still at Bastion?"

"That is correct sir. Shall I signal the rest of the fleet?"

"Yes," Millard's hand stretched the white collar of his Grand Admiral's uniform a bit. It was still a little tight. Viscera said they got all of my measurements from the Imperial Archives. Archives indeed. This uniform needs to be stretched a little bit. Still...it does feel right. This entire situation feels right.

"We're coming out of hyperspace sir," Tomar spoke, as the starlines faded to their normal bright dots of light in the black darkness of space. The four other Imperial Star Destroyers hung there, like arrowheads waiting to strike at a moments notice. But battle was not on the agenda for Millard today. Nor in this sector, should things go right.

"Signal them, General."

"Aye, sir," came the fast reply.

"Vice Admiral Lebron, this is Grand Admiral Taylor Millard of the Imperial Navy. We have matters to discuss. Diktat Viscera has sent me to make sure your sector is adequately prepared and stocked in supplies and munitions. It would be unfortunate for the Empire to lose the 'Money Sector' again. We will discuss what accomodations the Empire can provide the former 'Imperial Remnant'. I will be landing on Bastion in exactly two hours. Meet me there. Millard out."

He turned to Tomar, "Signal Laran aboard the Davidoff. Have her meet you here, then have her join me on the surface at 1730 hours. And meet me in my study in 15 minutes. I'll take any responses from Admiral Lebron there."

"Understood, sir," Tomar said, watching Millard make his exit to his study.

As Millard entered his study, his first thoughts were It's good to be back.

[Admiral Lebron]

The blade sliced through the air, skillfully and accuratly. It tore through the air until it hit another blade, a metal pang shook off. The man who blocked, was the famed Admiral Lebron. Before his opponent could react, he spun blade and all, then stuck his opponent in the side of the leg on a nerve. The man fell to the ground, where Lebron's blade pointed at his neck.

"Guter Übereinstimmungssir. " Spoke the man on the ground in a Northern Kamaar dialect.

"Thanks. I have a question. " Lei questioned.
"Yes sir?" He replied, awaitng the question.
"You're what, six-five and a hell of a lot bigger than me, right?"
"Yes sir." He said, with a sheepish grin.
"Did you lose purposefully or am I just good?" He said, almost breaking into a laugh,but showing restraint.
"You're choice sir." He began to laugh as an enlisted soldier came into the gym/recreation area.

"Admiral, message for you." He spoke, intimidated that the Admiral had his sword pointed at a much larger man.
The Admiral had listen to the worlds of the other Admiral.
"Bring him right here, I need a little more practicing." He laughed.

[Taylor Millard]

Millard sat in his study, a small glass of fine Kuatian white wine rested near his left hand, his eyes closed. He was meditating to a degree, but not on anything in particular. Thoughts mainly, and memories. This was normally, like the wine, not his practice- but today he felt different...older. But not in the traditional sense. Instead, Taylor felt he was an elder soldier in the Empire. Much like Captain Fena or Grand Admiral Thrawn.

His place was in the military, whereas most people would retire (as he had tried) in this stage of his still young life of 46, and Millard knew it. Forget the politicians and their followers, his life was military. He believed in the Empire, and he would serve it until his death or his forced retirement.

Or... a voice said in his mind, You are truly happy...

The door chime rang.

"Enter," he spoke, keeping his eyes closed.

"Grand Admiral, we have received..." Tomar began to spoke.

"General," Taylor interupted, "It is Admiral. While my rank may be Admiral, you have all the rights to call me Admiral. Now continue."

"Yes sir. We have received a message from the planet surface. They...they wish you to meet Vice Admiral Lebron in a fencing match on the planet."

One of Taylor's brown eyebrows lifted slowly from its resting place on his head. He turned slowly in his chair, his blue eyes catching with Tomar's grey ones.

How long had it been, since his last lightsaber fight? A year...two? It was...when his brother had died. Enough of a time for him to be out of practice...slightly.

"Very well General...I shall meet Vice Admiral Lebron for a fencing spar. Have Thomas come along as well. This will certainly be interesting."

Two hours later...

Millard strode from the shuttle towards the main compound of Vice Admiral Lebron, now the main base of the Empire in the Bastion Sector. To his right was the crimson robed bodyguard, Thomas, whose Force pike pointed menacingly towards the sky, daring anyone who tried to attack his charge.

Grand Admiral Millard was ushered from the landing bay to the Recreation Room. Before him, stood a man in the traditional fencing garb. Millard assumed it was Lebron.

"Vice Admiral Lei Lebron, I am here to make sure your sector is safe and prepared for any attack that is to come. Not play fencing games with you. Perhaps, after the requisitions have been made, then we can see how we fair in fencing."

Millard crossed his arms, staring back at Lebron.

[Admiral Lebron]

The Vice Admiral, inspected the Crimson Guardsman. Impressive, Lei thought. Finally, he spoke, "It's okay. Not all of us like swordplay or have time for it. So, shall we head to my office, or would you like the discussions somewhere else? A topcafe or a reasturant or here? The choice is yours sir." He tried not to sound like his was brown-nosing, even though he was.

Lebron slightly turned, to hand his long sword to an old droid who had probably been keeping this facility in order since before the Admiral was born. He turned back to Admiral Millard.

[Taylor Millard]

"We may meet at a restaraunt of your choice, Vice Admiral. But I chose the time: 1600 hours. We will then meet the next day at 0830 hours and begin discussions in your main audience chambers, if you have them. I will accept whatever requisitions you need and look over them. Pick your restaraunt, Lebron."

Millard waited for his answer, taking in the surroundings of the recreation room around him.

Yes...a fencing battle will be in store for later on.

[Admiral Lebron]

Lei Lebron had put on a royal blue tunic and matching pants. He didn't want to look splendid for the Grand Admiral, but he didn't want to look shabby.

Ablore's, an old style eating establishment he chose for the evenings meeting. It was in a run-down part of the Capital city. A perfect example of what Lebron wished to fix in his sector. He wanted prosperity for all. And hopefully he would get it.

[Taylor Millard]

Millard marched into the restaraunt, with Thomas on his heels. The place was fairly deserted (Millard assumed it was because the Vice Admiral had reserved the entire place for this meeting), with an old, broken down serving droid approaching the duo.

"We-lcome to Ab-b-b-b-lorezzz," the droid spoke slowly, its voice processing chip attempting to catch up with its words.

"W-w-w-w-herrrr w-would-d you gentle-*keh," the droid suddenly shut down as smoke began to come from its back processing unit.

"We know who we're sitting with," Millard growled as he brushed past the smoking droid.

He was dressed in his finest Grand Admiral uniform. The white tunic came down to his thighs, with white pants continuing to his polished, knee-high black boots which shone by the polish put on them. Millard did not place any medals on his body, instead let the uniform of the Grand Admiral speak for itself.

His brown hair was cut short, and combed back. His cold, blue eyes focused on whoever was infront of him, but also took in all of his surrounding. He saw Lebron sitting, in what was the 'best seat in the house'. The man was wearing a blue tunic, not an Imperial Uniform.

We're all Imperials here aren't we? he thought as his eyes narrowed a bit more.

"Vice Admiral Lebron, greetings," he spoke slowly, "I was expecting this to be an Imperial function, but I suppose I was mistaken."

Millard sat down opposite Lebron, "Tell me Admiral. How did your career in the Imperial Military start? And why did you decide to break away from the Empire?"

Taking a glance at his menu, Millard spoke in Kaamar with a slight accent, "I'll have the Calamari, please. And a side of dewback stew as well. And some water to drink."

[Admiral Lebron]

The Admiral chucked after he had ordered some nerf-ribs. He thought it was funny that the Grand Admiral had spoken in Kamaarian. Well, some form of it anyway.

He looked at Thomas, really wondering if he could get a half dozen or two. Minus the Crimson color armor, they look.. cool.. Lebron thought.

"Well, it all started oh, just before Endor. I was at Endor in fact. As a cadet though. I was there to basiclly just learn. It was a study trip, I guess. Anyways, I left the Empire, a few years back to join a Warlord, Admiral Celchu, in his 'Death Fleet.' I went far with them, but eventually left. I rejoined the Sovergn Imperial Navy, but after it was generally decomissioned, I formed the Remnant of it." He stopped for a brief moment to sip a glass of water. Then, Lei continued, hoping the Admiral would keep up with the conversation.

"You're Probably wondering why I am not in a Galactic Empire unifrom, aren't you?"

[Taylor Millard]

Millard nodded, waiting for Lebron to continue.

By now his stew had arrived. Millard took a spoonful- it was a bit spicy, but good. Taking another sip of water, Taylor looked towards Lebron hoping he would continue.

[Admiral Lebron]

He took a bite of his meat, gulped down some water and continued. "Well, I was thinking. Tonight will be a littleless casual tomarrow in uniform. Although Sir, if I must say so myself, those olive tunics, need work. I like blue. A nice, blue uniform. Whatya think Sir?" He grinned.

[Taylor Millard]

Millard shot Lebron a look of contempt.

"I am not here to discuss what changes in dress code the Empire should make, Admiral. I am here to ensure your sector does not fall into enemy hands, if attacked. If you wish a change in uniform I am almost certain you could speak with Lord Viscera. He would be able accomodate you in some way," Millard gave a sly smile to Lebron.

"What is it you wish for this sector Admiral? I see the delapadated streets and the broken down services. Isn't there enough money in Bastion Sector for the economy to be strong?"

Taylor took a bite of his calamari. It wasn't a bad flavor, although a bit rubbery.

"And why did you not join Lord Viscera when he took control over the Empire's military? Certainly the military machine of the Empire would have proven something for you?"

[Admiral Lebron]

"Well, I doubt he'd go far. Dabbling in the force is not something I like. It's not good at all. As for what I want. Is some funding. To fix up the damage you guys caused a little while ago. I also need some planetary defenses. And some crimson guardsmen."

The Admiral stopped and began eating again, waiting for the response from the good Admiral.

[Taylor Millard]

"The planetary defenses can be provided. It would serve you well to make sure the Bastion Sector is up to Imperial Standards. Also, a tour of your planetary defenses is required as well.

"As for the Imperial Guardsmen, they tend to seek you out, not vice versa. I wish you luck though. Thomas has been my bodyguard for about 30 years now."

Even when I retired he tried to stay with me. He's a loyal man. Even when I used the Force he stayed. He is a man not many officers have the luxury and honor to serve under.

Millard finished his food, his cold blue eyes looking strait at Lebron, "You still have yet to answer my question, Admiral. Why did you not join Lord Viscera when he gained control of the Imperial Navy?"

[Admiral Lebron]

The Admiral thought. "I did not want to. Like most people I was unsure of the future of his collection of vessels. I went with the crowd. Our weapons are fairly simple." He paused; "Two Gencore sheild generators 5 KDY-150s and 5 octet torpedo launchers. Most of the other stuff was scrapped to patch up ships or destroyed in your campigns."

[Taylor Millard]

Millard made mental note of both responses.

"Very well, Admiral," he stated boring his cold blue eyes into Lebron, "The supplies will be given.

"Now, what made you decide to join the Galactic Empire now? When it was changed from Galactic Military Alliance back to the Empire?"

The server returned to check on the two Admirals. Millard nodded to her.

"I'll take more water please."

The Grand Admiral then looked back at the Vice Admiral, his eyes reasking his question.

[Admiral Lebron]

The Admiral withheld a sigh he would have loved to have given, but didn't. His eyes showed no sign of much emotion, so Lei said in answer to Millards question, "Sure."

With that, Lei Lebron took a sip of his water and bite of his meal, and looked at the Grand Admiral-brevet for his reaction to the Kamaarian's very casual and broad response.

[Taylor Millard]

"I find that interesting Admiral," Taylor spoke pleasently, though his ire was beginning to right, "You give such a casual response to a serious and direct question.

"I wonder, are you more politician...than Naval Commander."

Millard finished his water, then rose, bowing to the Vice Admiral.

"Tomorrow, 0800 hours. I expect a tour of your facilities. Good night, Lebron."

Spinning on his heels, with a move that would have made Serena Laran pround, Millard marched out of the restaraunt with Thomas behind.

Thirty Minutes Later, Millard was back on the Superior enjoying a glass of wine and resting in his study.

We shall see how Lebron acts, during the inspection.

[Admiral Lebron]

The Admiral retired to his small apartment on the planet's surface. In the morning, he would show the Grand Admiral Millard his planetary generators first, then weapons, then the slums of the planet. He knew what he was doing, or so he hopes.

[Taylor Millard]

0758

Admiral Millard stood on the Bastion Launching Pad, awaiting the arrival of Vice Admiral Lebron. He checked his watch.

Although the Admiral still had two minutes, Millard had a feeling he was going to be late.

He smiled, expecting it so.

Three minutes later, Lebron arrived a the landing bay.

"Vice Admiral Lebron," Millard spoke, "I hope your men are more timely than you. Come, let us go inspect your defense systems and your fleet."

Without awaiting a response, Millard turned and reentered the shuttle expecting Lebron to follow.

[Admiral Lebron]

Lebron entered the shuttle, after Millard. Disregarding the comment the Admiral made for about time keeping. He struck off the conversation by speaking in his normal, casual tone.

"First off we'll check the main shield generators. They are closest, and are most likely the most important. They are Gencore Class shields, Two layers of it. Some two dozen or so relay posts around the planet. They are relitivaly new, so should be in good working order; but since your Admiral came, and blew them out we've been piecing them together." The Admiral paused, to take in breath and wait for the Grand Admiral's witty and scruitinizing remark.