New Beginnings

[Gallus Tagge]

It baffled Gallus Tagge to think that he had never thought of opening a night-club before now. He'd spent the majority of his late teens and early twenties frequenting clubs, and had decided that if anyone was qualified to say what made them successfully, he was that man. It hadn't taken much to get the approval on the funds he needed; TaggoCo had made significant gains, in spite of the galactic peace treaty.

It wouldn't be long before the club was ready to open its doors to the people of Cloud City and though there was still plenty of work to be done, Gallus had every faith that it would be complete by opening night. The building work was complete and contractors were part the way through fitting the furnishings. Standing at the edge of what would some day soon be a dance-floor, Gallus could already see the basic shape of the place: private booths, a well-stocked bar, and all of it with an air of class that only the Empire could bring. It was the first time that Gallus had been excited about a business venture in a long time. Perhaps he could even convince Miranda to come along to the opening festivities.

There was one was outstanding matter that still needed to attending to, though: a name for the club. Gallus had been mulling on that one for some time.

“What about... the House of Tagge?” he asked over his shoulder, a knowing smile on his lips as he met the eyes of the Royal Guard who been assigned to his security: Elias Akasha. There was every chance that he'd get little more than a yes, sir in reply, but that didn't stop Gallus from trying to engage with the man. Gallus couldn't quite decide whether it had been a joke on Miranda's part to assign Elias temporarily to Gallus's side. Whatever the case, you couldn't deny that the many was good at his job. Fortunately for Gallus, he was expecting the company of someone with a little more charisma soon. Moff Ceto Rübezahl was due to arrive at any minute to discuss TaggeCo's wider expansion into the Greater Javin region.

There was more to the whole venture than just business, however. The club would be a lucrative asset for TaggeCo, but he could have opened it anywhere. The real reason he had come to Cloud City was simple: he missed his sister - worried about her, even. Though he needed no excuse to visit her when it pleased him, it would hopefully make Gallus's presence less conspicuous in Sanya's eyes. He didn't want her to feel as if he were watching her, making sure that she was coping, even if that was exactly what he was doing.

[Elias Akasha]

Elias fought the urge to shuffle uncomfortably, and was only partially successful. It wasn't that he considered Gallus Tagge unworthy of his protection: when it came to safeguarding the Empire, there were no insignificant tasks. Besides, this had come not as an order but rather framed more as a personal request from the Empress herself; and if Miranda Tarkin had asked him to leap into the sun as a favour, he most certainly would have done so. It wasn't the fact that he was apparently pulling double duty as an unofficial business consultant as well, well beyond his comfort zone as that might have been.

No: the source of his comfort came not from what he was doing, but rather what he was not. The Empress had insisted that with the Treaty, and with the Empire's forces withdrawn into a smaller but more densely defended region of space, she was as safe from danger as she had ever been. The rebellion was no longer lurking in the shadows, and the Alliance had far more fundamental and critical concerns to attend to than attempts to assassinate the Empress. As it was, the Alliance could barely police and stabilise the region it controlled already: even they were not foolish enough to risk plunging the rest of the galaxy into chaos by targeting her highness directly.

Even so, Elias could not shake the belief that by being here he was abandoning his responsibilities back on Coruscant. Attending to the Empress's safety and security was both a solemn duty and a considerable privilege; even if his services were not personally required, that did not diminish his desire - need - to provide them just the same.

"It doesn't strike me as much of a house, sir," he offered back, idly scrutinising the décor that Gallus Tagge had apparently decided upon. "At least, not any house that I've ever been wealthy enough to live in."

[Gallus Tagge]

While Elias offered his thoughts, a contractor discretely interjected himself between the two men, presenting Gallus with a data-card for inspection and approval.

“No? Is that out of necessity, or choice?” Gallus asked, not glancing up from the data-card. The bulk of the buying that was needed to ready the club for business had been done, but there were still a few special items that needed sourcing. His staff were scouring the relevant markets, in search of prized vintages and rare spirits. Gallus scanned the contents of the data-card - a proposed shipment of Vistulo brandale - then pressed his thumb to the screen before handing it back off to the contractor, who bowed and returned to his duties.

“You protect the Empress. Surely you're paid enough to afford a little luxury in your life.”

[Elias Akasha]

"I protect her on Coruscant," Elias countered, perhaps a little too swiftly to seem entirely respectful, and yet not overtly cutting enough to be directly offensive.

He mustered as much calm as he could find before he spoke again, drawing on some of the meditation and focus techniques that he'd been introduced to during his initiation into the Imperial Guard. They were a far cry from the tactics he'd learned from the Imperial Security Bureau: a little more ruthless calm, a little less brutality. Relying on brute force and swift action was not nearly so necessary, he supposed, when an eighteen-inch vibroblade on a stick was standard issue.

His tone was a little lighter when he spoke again; he even managed a small smile, though if your eyes weren't already accustomed to the mild frustration that his features almost always seemed to carry, you might not have noticed it. "Space isn't exactly a premium. You could buy a small moon for the amount a decent sized apartment on Imperial Center costs. And besides -"

His expression changed; it wasn't entirely clear if it was trying to convey sarcasm or disapproval. "- protecting the Empress is it's own reward. I'm not in it for the money."

[Gallus Tagge]

What Elias and the rest of the Imperial Guard did, exactly, was minutiae to Gallus. He was familiar enough with the concept of the Guards and had seen enough them to know that Miranda was safe in their protection, but the specifics of their duties? As long as they kept his wife alive, that was all he was concerned with. It hadn't even occurred to him that they were confined to Coruscant, though now that he thought about it, he hadn't ever seen one of them outside the Imperial capitol. He mulled on that realisation for just a moment, before dismissing it.

“I could think of worse ways to spend a working week than watching Miranda.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Gallus regarded Akasha with an amused smile.

“You probably see more of her than I do.”

[Elias Akasha]

"Perhaps," Elias replied. His voice and expression remained as neutral and respectful as ever; he allowed the wry smile and implication-laden lilt to go unrealised and inferred.

His eyes turned away from the Empress' spouse, and contemplated the vast space in which they lingered. This visual sweep noted eight additional security concerns that the earlier three had missed; not all that reassuring for his proficiency, numerically speaking, but when his ability to scrutinise the soon-to-be club was hampered by subtlety's demands that he do so unnoticed, it was all he could realistically achieve. Under normal circumstances, he would have been insistent that everything about this was unwise; would have insisted that if Gallus Tagge would not see reason and abandon his overly flamboyant and theatrical plans for a Grand Opening he at least allow someone who by definition and training was one of the Empire's eminent authorities on security; but these were not normal circumstances.

To Tagge, the presence of Elias was an appeasement: a concession to reassure the Empress' concerns for his safety. Tagge was too cavalier, too comfortable in his faith in how untouchable he was, to concede to any kind of realistic security concern. Elias was just a voice, another tiresome member of the Imperial hierarchy advising on how to stand, how to act, what to wear, what to say; Elias had not, thankfully, been faced with a situation where he was forced to prove to Gallus how valuable his services and advice could be.

Hopefully, that lack of opportunity would continue.

A voice chirped in the Imperial Guard's ear; he triggered the controls of the wristband remote for his comlink, worn so that he could avoid gestures that lacked discretion and subtlety like raising his hand to his ear. A double tap of the talk control sent a tandem pulse of static that invited the security officers outside - Tagge had conceded to their presence, at least - to speak.

The Baroness and Moff Rübezahl are arriving, sir, the officer explained, with a faint hint of uncertainty at the final word. Elias sympathised: Imperial Guards were renowned for their mystery and silence; it must have been unnerving enough to see one not dressed in their traditional crimson attire, let alone hear one speak. Tagge had been insistent that Elias dress with more subtlety than his uniform would allow; that only served to amplify the uncertainty that an Imperial Guard's ambiguous position in the Empire's hierarchy naturally created.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Elias replied, keeping his words curt and brief. He closed the comlink, his attention returning to Gallus, a subtle clearing of his throat uttered to ensure he had attention. "Your sister is here, Mister Tagge."

[Sanya Tagge]

There was no pause in Sanya's stride as she approached the secure perimeter around the soon-to-be club. Regardless of the Moff at her side and the compliment of armoured Stormtroopers in tow, it was obvious that even if she had been alone, Sanya Tagge would not have stopped for anyone. She didn't so much as acknowledge the presence of the security officers as she swept by, her own guards falling into an uneasy formation with those already on duty outside of the club's entrance.

Heads turned as the Baroness stepped onto the club floor. Her appearance was never anything less than immaculate, and today was no exception. Platinum blonde hair bound into a bun, she wore a grey dress, heels and a tight little smile.

Her eyes passed over the familiar face of Miranda's bodyguard, lingering their for a moment. She glanced up and down, the length of him, as she moved to her brothers side. Embracing him, she leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Gallus.”

[Gallus Tagge]

“Hello sis.”

Not content with a peck on the cheek, Gallus threw his arms around Sanya and pulled her into a firm embrace. Appearances be damned, they were siblings and it was a rare occasion that the two of them spent any amount of time together that couldn't be classed as a 'public appearance on behalf of the Empire.'

“I'm sure you know Mira's man, Elias,” he said, tossing a nod in the Imperial Guard's direction. Sanya eyed the man for a moment but said nothing, her expression implacable. Gallus meanwhile had already turned his attention elsewhere and was grinning at Ceto.

“And this must be the Red Ranger!”

[Ceto Rübezahl]

Ceto's face fell into a practised smile: not one tight, forced, and tired of the brand of attention he was receiving, but rather a warm and genuine expression that was rehearsed purely through frequency. Granted, on some level it was a small frustration that in the eyes of many his greatest contribution to the galaxy had happened in his teenage years; but it was not a part of his life that he resented. He was grateful for the doors it had opened, and the opportunities it had presented, and while intellectually he was more proud of some of his acting projects since then, that did not diminish the pride he felt for the number of lives he had touched, and the service that Republic Rangers: Galactic Rescue had done for the Republic and the Empire he served.

Besides, he mused, There are far worse things in your past that you could be remembered for.

"It seems you brought a Red Ranger your own," he quipped, offering a respectful nod to the Imperial Guard. His earlier encounter with Elias Akasha had been brief, but memorable and insistent: most of the Empire's politicians and bureaucracy seemed to grow tired of the overbearing protection of men like Akasha, but Ceto could not bring himself to begrudge a man who dedicated his life to the safety of others.

His eyes slid to Sanya, smile turning wry. "Please," he implored, a note of chuckle in his voice, "Tell me that the Tagge fortune was squandered on a full set of the deluxe action figures. Knowing that the CEO of TaggeCo spent his youth with a Battle of Bestine AT-TE Playset is exactly the kind of anecdote my memoirs need."

[Sanya Tagge]

Sanya had a vague memory of Gallus sitting at the centre of what looked like an explosion in a plastic factory, smashing together multicoloured toy soldiers with an enthusiastic pew pew! of mock blaster-fire.

“So that's what those dolls were,” she said, with a knowing smile and glance at Ceto. The Moff's past career was no secret to Sanya, though it would come as no shock that it was Gallus who had gushed over Republic Rangers: Galactic Rescue, not his sister. Out of curiosity, she'd taken the time to look up a few old clips of his acting days on the HoloNet and found herself surprised at how well he'd aged.

Gallus shook his head. “They weren't dolls, Sanya. You heard the man: they're action figures. The Perrine Coral Senatoiral Boudoir play-set – now that came with a doll. Don't roll your eyes, now!” he added with a lop-sided smile, as Sanya folded her arms across her chest. “I know that you always wanted to steal that one from me.”

[Ceto Rübezahl]

Another laugh escaped from Ceto. It was strange to see, the way that Sanya behaved in the presence of her brother. The prim and proper of the Baroness Administrator he'd become accustomed to working with was still there, but Gallus' unapologetic affection and radiating charm seemed to coax a little of something extra from within her. For lack of a better expression, it humanised the Baroness; both for her sake and his, Ceto was glad to know that the investments of the Tagge brother would guarantee Sanya's much more frequent exposure to that.

"I think," he cut in, a mild mannered imposition between the two siblings, "We can all agree that no matter what you spent your childhoods doing, you didn't while away your evenings playing with yourself the way that I did."

He let his smile become a grin, but didn't linger, instead peering beyond the reunited siblings and to the void space that Gallus was slowly transforming into his vision. "I must admit," he added off-hand, "From what I've heard of your reputation, you've had far more experience drinking night clubs out of business than trying to keep them in it."

He threw Gallus a sidelong glance. "Is this a Gallus Tagge one-off endeavour, or is this the first step in a new wave of TaggeCo business enterprise?"

[Gallus Tagge]

Gallus cast a thoughtful eye over the night-club. “You know, I haven't decided yet. We bank plenty with the Restaraunt Association (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Tagge_Restaurant_Association) so I'm sure we could make it work. Not as a chain necessarily, but perhaps a series of unique nightspots with Cloud City as the flagship venue.”

Since becoming managing director of the family business, Gallus hadn't made any attempts to expand the company's portfolio, partly because he didn't need to. The subsidiaries of TaggeCo were in the double-digits and covered everything from heavy industry to the latest in home computing, from fast food to pharmaceuticals. The company slogan had never been more apt – TaggeCo: We're Everywhere You Are.

Still, there was some appeal in creating a brand of his own. Something that he could create from the ground up and have a little fun with.

Hands in his pockets, Gallus gave a small shrug.

“We'll see how it goes. If nothing else, it's a good excuse to throw a hell of a party.”

[Elias Akasha]

"A good excuse to throw one hell of a security risk," Elias interjected under his breath; quiet enough to not be considered part of the conversation, but apparently loud enough to not go unnoticed, if the shift in attention was anything to go by.

A subtle wince tugged at his ordinarily set-in-stone expression. He hesitated, considering how apt it was to compound one sentence out of turn with another. His opinion was always welcome at the Imperial Palace, always welcome to the ears of the Empress; but then, his opinion was never unsolicited, either. Here, his sense of duty to obey the Empress' wishes and preserve the safety of her husband felt completely at odds with the notions of correctness and decorum that had been drilled into him since basic training. Which of the two desires should he favour: husband, or Empress?

The Empress won out, as right she should. His attention focused not on Gallus, or on Ceto, but rather on the Baroness directly.

"With all due respect to Mister Tagge and Moff Rübezahl, ma'am -"

Another flutter of reluctance. He pushed past it.

"It's been my observation since arriving that security here on Cloud City is somewhat... lax. In the past, Bespin has been considered as something of a backwater by the galaxy at large. Imperial troops assigned here have generally not been the Empire's most competent; and there's been a certain tolerated awareness that criminals, malcontents, and allegedly even Jedi have managed to smuggle themselves onto this habitat and remain entirely undetected. As an example, ma'am, consider your arrival here today: no identification, no electronic confirmation of your identity, and yet the guards you assigned to protect your brother simply stepped aside. All a Shi'ido or a properly trained Clawdite would need to do is imitate your face and your confidence, and apparently they'd have access to anywhere, and any one."

He paused, careful to moderate his tone into one of respect, rather than over-criticism. "There is a belief that with the Treaty, the Empire is largely safe from the dangers of terrorism we've endured this last decade or so. That's naive and erroneous: the only members of the Rebel Alliance bound by the peace treaty are the ones with a sense of propriety, law, and morality. Not all Rebels are -"

His voice stumbled, like an audio file hitting upon a decompiled fragment. A nerve that he'd tried hard to bury was struck by his own words: a memory he kept as far from his mind as he could. Back before anyone in the galaxy had even heard of the planet Endor, Elias had already been serving his Empire; a loyal soldier in the Stormtrooper Corps, and a skilled one, competent enough to serve in the Emperor's prestigious Jump Trooper regiment. He'd been offworld when the rebels, or a precursor thereof had struck Kuat. They'd ignored the military targets, ignored the vast shipyards in orbit; their target was a speeder, a passenger transport carrying harmless innocent civilians on their way home from work and school. A man with explosives strapped to his chest had stepped onto that craft; no one, including Elias' mother and young sister, had stepped off.

"Not all rebels play by the rules," he said simply, a grim note to his words. "I can appreciate how you and Mister Tagge feel you have the right to be cavalier with your own safety, but I'm afraid that the truth is you do not. Both of you, your brother especially, are priority strategic targets for whatever dregs of rebellion are left, and my responsibility here, my duty, is to ensure that he is enough protection to prevent anyone from exploiting that vulnerability. I'm forced by orders from the Empress herself to insist that those considerations are made a priority."

More words said in front of the Baroness and Moff than he'd expected to utter for the entire duration of his stay, Elias retreated back into his guardsman guise, reasserting his posture and steering his gaze away from his social betters.

"Apologies for the outburst, ma'am, sirs."

[Sanya Tagge]

There was no silence in the wake of Akasha's self-proclaimed outburst. Not with the whine of saws, the whir of drills and the chatter of construction crew near at hand. Still, Sanya felt the weight of an implied silence. The easy smile on Gallus's lips faltered as he looked between his sister and the Moff. Was it appropriate to address concerns of this kind in public, or should he shrug them off? A few of the nearby staff seeing to the construction of the club glanced expectantly in the Baron's direct, but it was the Baroness Administrator who spoke. The criticism had been leveled at her, after all.

“You've no need to apologise, Elias. Your concerns are noted. We will discuss this further in the privacy of my office.”