In Pursuit: Love

[Telan Desaria]

This roleplay will add one planet to the Imperial Sovereignty. More importantly, it is a character development roleplay for Grand Admiral Baron Desaria. Anyone who wishses may post whatever they wish, but it shall go on regardless.

And if you do not like it, then don;t read it. I am writing this for me.


" You are cleared for landing, Your Excellency. Pad fifteen in Raenoria is open for your arrival."

" Thank you, Centaur Control, we are starting our approach."

The pair of Imperial Fleet pilots at the fore of a Lambda-class Shuttle needed not to relay the spoken words to their passanger. A Grand Admiral of the Empire, he would hear every word regardless.

" Begin the descent, Corporal. Make it fast."



Raenoria was a massive city by galactic standards: given the immensity of Centaur itself, she was on the third tier of urban size. She had only fifty million people within her city limits. Above her floated seven tethered skyhooks on which the titans of industry and foundry had located their plants and factories.

Entering the lower atmosphere, the view of the valley located city became more and more impressive. Skyscrapers were not limited to the center of the city, intead they dotted the horizon from end to end of Raenoria.

Under the titanic shadow of the Industrial Arms Skyhook, the Grand Admiral's shuttle touched down on a raised platform, one of five around a tall tower. From her imposing spires flew the green and white banner of Centaur, the impressive sized flag flapping above against a cloud strewn blue sky.

The Imperator's delta wings folded into station keeping, her small landing gear jutting from the ventral hull and connecting to the ground with a dull thump. The landing ramp hissed down in good time, barely having touched down on the Centaurian steel when three pairs of jackboots began colliding with the ramp.

First visible by the two people waiting at the end of the pad was a tall young-looking man in a stark white uniform. Following the figure was a pair of black uniformed Fleet officers, their uniforms reimiscent of the Fleet Surface Corps, with the difference their blast helmets had been replaced with standard officer's caps.

The form of Grand Admiral Baron Telan Desaria made his appearence on Centaur for the first time in five years.

There to meet him was a man in a black tunic and white trousers with the Crest of Torall on his shoulder: one of the most powerful noble houses on Centaur. Next to him was a woman the Grand Admiral immediately recognized, her age present in a stately grace none of her younger aristocratic peers could match.

She was the Grand Baroness Helena Desaria.

[Telan Desaria]

" Baron Desaria, it is an honor." The young man in the uniform of a Centaurian Army Colonel bowed low and then extended his hand.

Desaria returned the gesture and firmly grasped the man's hand. " I do not believe I have had the pleasure."

" I am Colonel Viscount Ramistrov, your cousin."

The Grand Admiral arched an eyebrow. His mother approached and placed a hand on the two men's shaking ones. " Yes. He was but a boy when you left for the Martial Academy, and you never met. He has taken after you, Telan."

The Grand Admiral looked to his left at the figure of his mother. Not many people he knew any more called him by his first name: he outranked everyone he met, and those he instructed to ease their formality could not. It was good to be home.

" Well, cousin, it has been too long, then. And we have much to catch up on. I have an Empire to run, but it can wait for afew weeks."

The Grand Admiral turned to his escorting pilots. " Gentlemen, keep your comlinks close. Go now. Enjoy my home."

The pair came to attention, and departed. Desaria turned to his family.

" Let us away. I have a life to relive."

[Telan Desaria]

Once outside the Cite of Raenoria, the scenery changed from massive steelen obelisks to tall trees in dense forests and hills rising and falling like an earthen sea. The Grand Admiral looked out of the dark tinted window that separated him from the life outside the repulsor limo.

The stately woman that was the matriarch of the House of Desaria noticed her son's mental wondering, his slumped shoulders, his glassy eyes.

" What troubles you, Telan?"

The Baron took in a deep breath, the air fresh and cool and hissing in from a barely open window. He sat back and looked fore. His mind raced but his speech seemed slurred. He had a thousand things he wanted to do and say, but the energy to complete none of them.

" Mother," he began, then trailed off into nothingness.

The Grand Baroness placed a warm hand on her son's shoulder, the braided epaulette firm to the touch. " Telan, I am your mother. Your discomfort is painfully evident. Speak to me."

" I have been alone for too long," the Baron blurted. His eyes sank and a dejected look came over him.

The Grand Baroness gave a smile. " Telan, you are home now. Your family has been called from about to see you, as evidenced by your cousin's arrival," She nodded towards the uniformed officer sitting on the opposite side of dark glass in the foreward cabin of the limousine.

" Yes. I am thankful."

She took her silence upon her, happy that she had addressed and verbally assauged her son;s pain. Unfortunately, the Grand Admiral did not mean family companionship.

He sought other companionship.

[Telan Desaria]

The central estate of the Desaria family was owned by the Grand Baron and his wife and reminded their eldest son of his own manor on Thyferra. It was over a hundred meters wide and more long. It seemed to tower into the sky, five levels of its wooden exterior viewable from the tree lined entryway. The roof was spired and had a black tint to the shingles thereon. Windows were paned with gold and latinum, completing the aura of regality any Centaurian nobleman felt. On eitherside of the drive were tiered gardens, descending down slowly as the mansion was built atop a hill.

Nearly fifty square kilometers were encompassed by the estate; compared to vastness of Centaur itself, it was rather insignificant.

The pair of escorting repulsor cars turned off into an adjacent structure, the vehicle lodge. The security detail resided in a manor of its own slightly down the hill, lacking no amenity whatsoever.

The Grand Baroness' door was opened by a blue coated servant, a man of many years but not lacking in zeal or strength, With a full head of silver hair, he could still outfight the Grand Admiral. In his early years, it had been he who taught the eldest son the ways of unarmed combat. Desaria's mother extended her hand which was taken and she stepped out of the limousine into the mild afternoon air.

The Grand Admiral-Baron exited next, taking in the surroundings of his boyhood home, and took in himself a deep breath.

His boyhood mentor stood next to the door. " Baron," he bowed.

Desaria smiled. " Villian. How are you?"

" Good, Your Grace."

" You've not aged a day in twenty years."

The head butler bowed and graciously grinned.

The massive greel doors to the entrance hall opened wide and a fiure in white strode out.

Admiral Grand Baron Rarick Desaria, father to Telan Desaria, commander in chief of the defense forces of the Centaurian government stood before his son and gazed upon him.

" Welcome home, son."

[Telan Desaria]

In the span of a second, an entire quarter century of lifetime flashed before the emerald eyes of the Supreme Commander of the Thyferra Sectro Fleet. From birth to Academy graduation to his first military parade, the life of Grand Admiral Desaria had been ruled in some small way by his father, a man who possessed not only an aristocratic regality, but an imposing aura that had helped him maintain a tight leash on the Centaurian Fleet for twice the Baron's lifespan. All eight Desaria offspring had been weaned in a militaristic lifestyle, raised on Military transports and going to sleep to the sound of a ceremonial band.

Telan Desaria had always wanted to be a soldier, and more importantly, an officer. There were times, however, that he wondered how things might have been.

" Father," Telan said, bowing low in Centaurian familial tradition.

The elder Desaria looked on his son, marvelling at how much the acne clad teenager had changed since he was inducted into the Martial Academy at fourteen.

From a boy of one and a half meters with short black hair and only one peice of insignia, Baron Telan Desaria had grown both vertically and militarily. He was now a Grand Admiral and over two meters tall, of an average build but firm musculature. He was more than his father.

He hoped it would make him proud.

[Telan Desaria]

" Telan."

The Admiral bowed in return, and departed back into the house. A genial smile was barely visible as the elder Desaria left, but it was extent enough to hearten the familie.

* * * *

Later that evening, Preparation for Dinner


For the entire reign of Emperor Palpatine and the subsequent Imperial Dynasties that followed, Centaur had remained a staunch supporter of the Galactic Empire. When an Imperial Fleet defended Kuat in the Brevet Sector Fleet, their heaquarters was on Centaur. The commander of the Defenses at Fondor was a Centaurian, released to the Imperial Fleet after his term of service in the Centaurian Navy. Their tradition was proud and true, their soldiers honorable and dedicated. With the rise of the Empire anew under the Diktat, Centaur had seen itself as undeserving an Imperial command agaiin. Her rulers and the Lord Protector decided before they could be deemed worthy, they would have to offer to the Empire a platter of gifts, and so an expansion was set upon.

Dozens of Aurora-class Star Destroyers, the direct predecessors and inspiration for those in Imperial service, were recommissioned and pulled from mothballs, systems falling to port and starboard of the Fleet. Centaur encompassed almost all of what the Brevet Sector had been.

Centaur had felt itself ready to rejoin the Empire when the Fragmentation occured, sending hundreds of admirals off into the darker corners of the galaxy to squabble over scraps.

Centaur was deprived of its Fleet when the Vong struck, nearly its entireity dispatched while defending against the enemy.

Now it was weak and in need of quidance.

But still, until the decision was finalized, Imperial uniforms were verbotten on Centaur, and so Grand Admiral Desaria had to don the uniform of an Admiral of the Centaurian Fleet. In and of itself, it was very closely Imperial, with white breeches and high polished jackboots. The tunic, however, was single breasted and possess silver aigulettes as opposed to the gold epaulettes Desaria had grown accustomed to.

The Sovereign Supreme Commander was buttoning up his new uniform when there came a knock at his dressing room door.

" Enter."

The tall greel door opened and in stepped another officer dressed near identically to the Admirals cousin, the Viscount Ratimistrov. This officer was taller, however, and had a fair head of cropped hair, along with a pair of piercing emerald eyes.

He looked very much like Baron Telan Desaria.

He was Baron Vir Desaria, youngest child in the House of Desaria.

[Telan Desaria]

The eldest Desaria child stood in mid dress for the span of a full minute, glancing over enery piece of his brother's person. For nearly ten years, they had not seen each other; what's worse, neither had spoken in that time.

" Telan," the younger said, openeing his mouth in a smile.

" Vir," the Grand Admiral replied, returning the smile. The two men embraced each other in a familial hug, patting each other on the back with the force of soldiers and the bond of brothers.

" You've grown," Telan said, stepping back and looking over his brother's uniform. " Brigadier!"

Vir winked. " You've not done so bad yourself, Grand Admiral."

Both laughed and the elder underwent a slap on the back as he finished doing up his tunic.

" To dinner!"

The pair strode off, reminiscing of times past and gone, and the future they all hoped would come to pass.

[Telan Desaria]

What had been planned to be only a dinner amongst the several dozen-strong extended Desaria family had quickly escalated into a full blown ball faster than the Battle of Ranat had gone from patrol skirmish to Rebel rout.


Attending were all manners of the Centaurian nobility, their ceremonial and military uniforms varrying from red to blue to forest green tunics to white great coats and black trousers; a literal plethora of people and dress. A small string orchestra had been called to play, and waltzes and royal dances commenced. The marble stair cases leading down to the floor itself now were topped with crimson carpet while along their sides stood the red uniformed members of the Lucian Guard, the elite force tasked only with defending their charges at any and all costs.


" Quite a site, eh brother?"


Grand Admiral Desaria threw a sideways glance at his brilliant but errant youngest brother, Vir. " Of course it is. One day, when the Empire is power again, you should come to Imperial Center and see the balls thrown by the Imperial Court, its aristocracy and military. A sight that almost compares with this in splendor."


" Maybe one day I'll serve under you."


The almost happy look of the elder Desaria's face evaporated into the regal air. Telan turned and walked away from the window and strode into the heart of the fifth floor room, his back to the dancing mass below. Vir did not notice at first, but when he did, he in turn moved over to his older brother and placed a comforting hand on his aiguletted shoulder.


" What did I say?"


Telan shuddered, a horrid physical rattling going down the length of his spine and back. With one hand he snatched his brother's from his shoulder and with each garbbed the younger's arms. Firmly he held him there, the elder's eyes bruning into the mental recesses of the other's mind. Deeply he spoke, his voice ominious and foreboding.


" You will never pick up a uniform in your life off this planet. My fate is to die in uniform, in battle. Yours is not. Our mother cannot bear to see more than one of us fall. It hslal be me. You have a great mind, I do not a Rebel marksman to make gelatin out of it. Do not follow in my footsteps. You are destined for honour away from the field."


Telan raised his head and stepped into the hall and was announced, his demeanor growing back to its typical iron mold. Inside though, thoughts and visions rushed about like a bee.


" Baron Telan Desaria, Imperial Grand Admiral."


An applause was struck up somewhere in the midst of dancing couples, and soon every man and woman was clapping for the Imperial. The gathering was, after all, in his honor.


* * *

The ball lasted all evening and into the following morning, the last guest not departed until the sun had peaked the great Raenorian Valley. The entire region was bathed in its golden glow, the morning dew shining brightly, birds chirping and the Dracor making its first rounds to scoop up the mammoths to the north.


Desaria sat in a paded lounge chair at the far south of the manor, the house built onto the edge of a hill. The columned porch gave way to a rolling valley studded in every corner with trees and grass. In the morning as the sun rose, it was an awesome sight.


Telan Desaria, Baron of Raenoria, sat before it, with his head in his hands. The guards at either end of the xpansive open corridor could not hear the lone human sound from the hall.


A man was crying.

[Telan Desaria]

Night had morphed to day on Centaur. The rising sun found Baron Telan Desaria weeping, head in hands. For several minutes the stream of tears could not be controlled despite the best the Admiral tried. From his eyes they flowed, seeimingly endless as if there were one for every missed opportunity, every death he had caused, every tinge of pain he had ever felt.

Eventually, the situation was brought under control and the Baron stood. He took a look out over the valley and slowly allowed his eyes to close. The days of yore long gone but far from forgotten, Desaria found his reason for not returning home in so long. Centaur not only held the best of his memories, they held the worst.

Sighing, Desaria turned down the hallway and strode inside. He adjourned himself to the sitting room, itself panelled with wood and fine decor. Lamps were elegant as were the other furnishings, every decor lavish.

The Baron took a cigarra from its humidor and moved over to a bookcase when he heard a noise from the adjoining room.
I thought the family had all gone home.

His cigarra still unliot



must edit