Kyle Deshere
Aug 11th, 2002, 12:05:50 AM
<u>Special Operations Quadrant
IMS Hannibal</u>
The silent rapping of the general's pencil against the hard wood table was enough to irritate the others about the room, the commanders and civilians alike seemed to have had just about enough of it, but none would move against the old Order of the Fist Supreme Commander. His uniform was the finely ironed, and he wore every award he ever had as if it were a medal of honor. None could dispute him, none would dare dispute him.
"You were saying Minister?" General Deshere asked as he eased back into his chair. It was indeed his chair. It was designated to the commander of the Hannibal, one of the finest Imperial-Class Star Destroyers yet out, and he was the one to take command of it. After the fall of the Order of the Fist, a small radical organization that had requested his knowledge on all fields of battle, he had been commissioned as a mercenary to fight off alien threats such as the Ssi-Ruuk and other potential threats. Now he found himself under the command of the Balmorran Empire. Not a bad deal infact.
Admiral Millard seemed extremely interested in recruiting the soldier, especially after hearing of his reputation, specifically his run in with a Chiss Phalanx off Ignias. A swirved smile took in his expression as the Minister of Secret Operations Services fumbled through his durasheets.
Kyle was a merciful man, very merciful. But one thing he did not tolerate was clumsiness and lack of tidiness. He despised such, and often removed rank from those who had gone as far as to do such things. But never would he draw a pistol on one of his own, his men did not have to be here...they were here on their own accord. Who was he to take their lives?
"Well sir," he ended up finally stating, "they appear to be in full working order. They have a small military, but we are not meant to be engaging them are we sir?"
"Of course not! We do not welcome someone into our glorious empire by shooting them! Do they have any enemies?"
"Not...not that we know of just yet."
Kyle simply nodded. "Very well then, when will we be reverberating from hyperspace?"
The minister looked to one of the vices. Commander Diltaek, the captain of the Hannibal, looked at his wrist-held chronometer, then looked back at General Deshere. "Twenty minutes sir," he responded, and Kyle nodded.
"Well then everyone get ready, we don't have long."
The uneasy staff nodded, and they were adjourned.
IMS Hannibal</u>
The silent rapping of the general's pencil against the hard wood table was enough to irritate the others about the room, the commanders and civilians alike seemed to have had just about enough of it, but none would move against the old Order of the Fist Supreme Commander. His uniform was the finely ironed, and he wore every award he ever had as if it were a medal of honor. None could dispute him, none would dare dispute him.
"You were saying Minister?" General Deshere asked as he eased back into his chair. It was indeed his chair. It was designated to the commander of the Hannibal, one of the finest Imperial-Class Star Destroyers yet out, and he was the one to take command of it. After the fall of the Order of the Fist, a small radical organization that had requested his knowledge on all fields of battle, he had been commissioned as a mercenary to fight off alien threats such as the Ssi-Ruuk and other potential threats. Now he found himself under the command of the Balmorran Empire. Not a bad deal infact.
Admiral Millard seemed extremely interested in recruiting the soldier, especially after hearing of his reputation, specifically his run in with a Chiss Phalanx off Ignias. A swirved smile took in his expression as the Minister of Secret Operations Services fumbled through his durasheets.
Kyle was a merciful man, very merciful. But one thing he did not tolerate was clumsiness and lack of tidiness. He despised such, and often removed rank from those who had gone as far as to do such things. But never would he draw a pistol on one of his own, his men did not have to be here...they were here on their own accord. Who was he to take their lives?
"Well sir," he ended up finally stating, "they appear to be in full working order. They have a small military, but we are not meant to be engaging them are we sir?"
"Of course not! We do not welcome someone into our glorious empire by shooting them! Do they have any enemies?"
"Not...not that we know of just yet."
Kyle simply nodded. "Very well then, when will we be reverberating from hyperspace?"
The minister looked to one of the vices. Commander Diltaek, the captain of the Hannibal, looked at his wrist-held chronometer, then looked back at General Deshere. "Twenty minutes sir," he responded, and Kyle nodded.
"Well then everyone get ready, we don't have long."
The uneasy staff nodded, and they were adjourned.