Playing the Long Game

[R. S. Esalis]

Few things on Coruscant truly changed, and yet so much never stayed the same. Life went on as it normally did for those who wished nothing more than to make a simple living, while above their heads the government worked tirelessly to ensure the security that was so desired. It was a thankless job, and more often than not required such personal sacrifice. Some placed their reputations at great risk in the public eye while others worked in shadows that most never even knew existed. It was a cycle, as all things were, and it never ended. It was a way of life that had become the defining attribute of the Galactic Empire.

But now?

Now that cycle had become destabilized and unpredictable. It had become wild in the face of the cease-fire that'd been declared. And while there was certainly the rumblings of partial dissent among those who wished to continue the war outright, the truce with the Alliance of Free Planets was enforced regardless, and the lines that'd been drawn had been respected; albeit grudgingly.



R. S. Esalis was more than aware of the words spoken in hushed tones over the treaty, and determination to quell those grumblings was forefront on her mind.

It was what brought her here now, to a private dining area that few even in the higher ranks of the Empire were allowed, and fewer were aware of.

The polished rowan-wood table was a thing of so much beauty, shining with a burgundy gloss that reflected each point of light on its' surface. A midnight black runner ran the length of the table, with two old style gold candelabra set atop it and lit candles resting in each holding cup. There was a chandelier that hung over the center of the table, but its' light had been dimmed to provide nothing but a comfortable ambiance. Two settings had been placed, the flatware polished silver and the dishware crafted from the finest Caridan porcelain inlaid with Mon Calamari pearl accents. Crystal wine glasses sat empty, though a bottle of Hapan Red rested unopened, with a corkscrew set beside it.

The Director of Imperial Intelligence waited patiently for her guest, know that the two had much to discuss, and not wanting to seem so boorish, she had requested that their meeting take place over a dinner that both would appreciate.

Standing with her back to the elegant display of the table, she sent her gaze out across the expanse below her, at the unending life of Coruscant. The tall windows of the dining area were nearly invisible, as if one step would send her down immeasurable leagues to the streets and gutters below. Moving to clasp her hands behind her back, Esalis let out a long breath as she let her mind wander to the inevitabilities that tonight's meeting would thrust upon them all.

Necessary sacrifices would be made this night.

[Rossos Atrapes]

Rossos Atrapes was used to intrigue.

He'd been an Inquisitor, after all, and it revolved around lying, waiting, and misdirection. He'd needed to change that mindset quite a bit since he had become the head of what was now being called popularly the 'Imperial Knights'. Where before he would approach problems from their sides, or at angles, as a Knight it was no longer necessary to hide so much; with that freedom of movement, he found he could approach problems head on. It was a trait he wanted his knights to display, and so he needed to display it: the liberal use of power and the Force to crush his obstacles.

Iscandar felt it a bit too Dark, but even as an Inquisitor she had a penchant for unsubtly approaching her problems and dealing with them with perseverance and stamina; not many could outlast her when she put her mind to it, even using the tiring acrobatic lightsaber form she favored.

As he stepped out of the turbolift into the dark reception room. The host, a droid affixed to the floor, said only:

"Show him in."

A serving droid that looked like it was a refurbished protocol unit showed him through the tiny reception area and ushered him into the dining room. It remained silent as he took his seat and faced the Director of Intelligence. A face molded by years of espionage and counter-espionage she had, completely blank and unreadable. Almost as unreadable as the opulent decorations and place settings on the table.

In the Force, there was a sense of anticipation, or of an approaching event.

"Shall we begin, Director?" he asked, simply.

[R. S. Esalis]

Rossos Atrapes; never one for idle beginnings,. Esalis could respect the man for that, as it allowed her to forego the normal banalities of such pleasantries. It was just one less thing that she had to wear a mask for. One less thing that she had to gloss over with feigned interest. For a very brief moment the Director entertained the needling thought of commencing with meaningless chit-chat regardless, and as she lowered herself to sit, she allowed a whisper of a smile to turn up one corner of her lips.

No. She would not do that.

Their business this eve would be enough to occupy their time well enough without the addition of trivial matters.

Ignoring the setting before her, the Director instead set her eyes to Atrapes.

"Tell me, what is it that you think of this treaty that we have signed with our Alliance... counterparts."

[Rossos Atrapes]

Atrapes frowned, his brow creasing slightly.

"My opinion is not important, Director," Atrapes replied. "At least, not now. As the Empress commands, so must I do. The treaty has been signed, and the Empress, despite her reluctance, has ushered it into law. So I must obey."

He stopped and leaned back in his seat, his hand going to his beard.

"It is, of course, both folly and brilliance," the Knight-General said thoughtfully. "We were caught unprepared, and our own development of the technology has levelled the scales back into Imperial favor. If we desired a quick end, we would simply annihilate the Alliance right now, while their military cannot hope to stand against us. We would lose many many people and worlds, but all that can be rebuilt. Yet, we do not, and the Empress does not wish it. So we will not."

He looked at Esalis keenly.

"Why do you ask?"

[R. S. Esalis]

His words held her interest, and Esalis found herself offering him a slight nod. While her view was certainly not the same, there was wisdom in knowing the differing political landscapes of her peers Most if not all she already knew, but there were a very small few who she had not had the chance to map out. Rossos Atrapes was one of those.

"I ask because I am curious."

Spoken with ease, her voice seemed to become almost velvety as she allowed herself the luxury of leaning against the cushioned backrest of her chair.

"While I share part of your opinions, I do not believe that a swift strike would be ideal or key to any victory that we would wish over the Alliance."

Her hands went to the edges of the armrests, and she gave the Knight-General a thin smile that betrayed nothing.

"What I feel we must strive for is a longer game; a game that - over time - turns peoples and whole worlds from the Alliance in disgust. We are in a war that has grown cold, and it is within that chill that we must thrive and work within. We must use those very same tactics that the Rebel Alliance used against the Empire in the past. Open conflict is not something that we can afford to instigate, but internal strife is something that we can certainly invest our time and efforts in."

She stopped for a moment, then went on.

"We must play a long game now, and our actions must be precise and calculated to ensure the endgame we achieve is in our favor."

[Rossos Atrapes]

"That is a complicated strategy, Madame Director," Atrapes murmured, one elbow settling on the arm of the chair. His eyes unfocused in thought for a moment before they cleared and were once more trained on the head of Imperial Intelligence. "It runs the risk of allowing the Jedi, and through them the Alliance, a chance to gain legitimacy in the eyes of the populace. But an application of Emperor Palpatine's strategy to wrest control of the Republic from the Jedi might serve us well indeed, given the constraints of the Treaty and Her Majesty's will."

He ran his thumb along his fingertips absently, glancing out the viewport to take in the splendor of the skyline of Imperial Centre. His words were careful, despite the casual manner in which they were spoken. They carried a message: Atrapes' unwillingness to speak around the truth of the Empire's founding in the Clone Wars. At this level of the Imperial bureaucratic and military hierarchy, he would speak plainly. It was another habit he wished to impart to the men and women of the Knights.

"It will require pressure on multiple fronts," he said, speaking his thoughts aloud. "Force them to enact unpopular but necessary legislation more quickly than they would like, to spread their military thin in keeping various rebellious systems and sectors in line, to send aid and resources to the neutral border worlds to keep us from gaining control of them. Present the Empire as an alternative to the Alliance, able to protect, and enrich them. All of this is occurring now. The question is how to keep the Alliance from solving those problems."

[R. S. Esalis]

"Some of that distrust of the Alliance is easily gained, thanks to the workings of their own disgruntled soldiers."

She spoke of course, of the disaster (http://theholo.net/forum/showthread.php?55336-We-All-Fall-Down) that had befallen those on Corellia, and while her own agents had not gained access to the exact perpetrators, all had an inkling. A notion. They couldn't help but suspect.

Of course, that did not mean that the Empire was without its' own differing opinions on the treaty, and some of those opinions could very well undermine the delicate nature of what those in the upper echelons of command and government wished to ultimately achieve. It was something that had been a rather perplexing problem, but as all things, it was not without a solution. And while she would've wished that all were in tune with the slow burning strategy that she saw as necessary to rise above in the end, she also was a pragmatist. They all worked within a single beast, but she knew that there were others who were not ready to accept and embrace the quieting of hostilities. Even if the Empire and Alliance were not openly at war, it did not mean that there were more silent, far more political and cutthroat battles taking place. Unfortunately not all saw beneath the outward layers, and that was why she had called Atrapes here this night.

"Sadly we cannot solve the outward until we look within our own ranks."

A single finger tapped idly at the edge of an armrest.

"You are able to use the Force; tell me, when conflict within tears a single entity in multiple directions, what is the end result?"

[Rossos Atrapes]

His eyes flashed a bit at the sense that she was talking down to him. She knew the answer, and trying to draw the answer out of him as if he needed it was somewhat irritating. But he was not Minister Amés Falcon Liszt, and his reaction was bland.

"You fear that the Empire will not stand should we allow it to remain so divided," he said, frowning in thought. "The thought has crossed my mind as well. The Knights have been ensuring the obedience of the leadership of the military branches, especially the Imperial Starfleet. We do not have the numbers, or the information, to do a purge that will have any positive effect at the moment, however. Some known elements of unrest are firmly ensconced within their fleets also. While we have a superiority of numbers and materials, we do not have enough to warrant bringing fleets against each other to eradicate a small group of individuals."

[R. S. Esalis]

"But... "

There was a glimmer of devious surety in her eyes.

"... we do not need a small group of individuals."

The machinations of Imperial Intelligence were widespread, and never well-known. They knew information before anyone else, and they stamped out dissent before it was ever detected. Except for now. And it was an ugly black mark on an otherwise spotless record.

"We have one."

A look to the elegantly simple settings resting before her.

"We only need that one."

She slightly leaned back in the high-backed chair.

"The fall of the one - who occupies such a lofty position - will begin the fall of those... unaccepting... to the realities of the galaxy we now find ourselves in."

R. S. Esalis looked at Rossos Atrapes from the tops of her eyes.

"Don't you agree?"

[Rossos Atrapes]

Atrapes found himself leaning forward, one eyebrow slightly cocked up in interest, almost in time with Director Esalis leaning back into her seat. In contrast to his bland facial expression however, were his eyes, which focused on her intently.

"Who?" he asked simply.

[R. S. Esalis]

She smiled sweetly; a deceptive smile that she knew he could see past.

"One Park Kraken."

She allowed only a moment of silence to fall before elaborating.

"Passive aggressive though it is, the man has chosen to not honor the treaty we have signed with the Alliance. And while I understand his disgruntled attitude, I serve the Empress and her will is mine."

Esalis blinked, giving Atrapes a moment to digest her words.

"But," her eyes narrowed to icy slits, her features becoming hard, "... that does not excuse anything. The Empire must be a united front. The moment fractures begin is the moment we start to crumble. Everything that we strive toward - order, strength, structure - it is all dependent upon everyone moving together. The moment we deviate from that is the moment we lose everything."

[Rossos Atrapes]

Atrapes leaned back into his seat.

"Kraken," he murmured thoughtfully, his hand coming up to cover his mouth and his eyes drifting over the darkening skyline. "I am familiar with the name, but not with the man."

[R. S. Esalis]

"He's of the old mentality," came the idle reply as a young, smartly dressed woman entered with a polished silver tray in hand. Two plates, each artfully arrayed with a small choice of delicate looking appetizers were delivered before each of the two diners. Silence reigned as the woman took up the bottle of Hapan Red, pouring a measure in each wine glass before once more retreating through the door that she had come from.

A moment longer passed, and Esalis took up her glass, holding it below her nose while giving it a gentle swirl.

"It's a mentality that will hurt us all, I am afraid. To that end, I've decided that he must be... " she lifted the glass to her lips, taking a bare first sip.

"... dealt with."

[Rossos Atrapes]

"Sector Admiral?" he asked, though the question was more of a rhetorical one. "Commander of a fleet. They will be loyal to him. If it is to be done, have you anticipated a way to do so without purging his entire Officer Corps?"

[R. S. Esalis]

"We would have to discredit him, though that sort of endeavor will be difficult, I understand."

A moment of thought, and the Director kept her eyes locked on the Knight-General.

"Which is why I've asked you here, now. Undercutting a man like Admiral Kraken is not easy, but it must be done. For the good of the Empire."

Three words were spoken then; words that were foreign sounds to escape her lips. But, they were also the truth. If this was to be done, Intelligence could only go so far. Others were necessary to ensure the continued existence of Imperial sovereignty and might.

"I need help."

[Rossos Atrapes]

Obviously.

Atrapes didn't voice that thought; it would help nothing, and uttering it would only be an exercise of base and petty pride. Instead, he looked at the dark red wine in the glass in front of him, as yet untouched.

"Such circumstances are the very reason for the existence of the Order of the Throne, Madame Director," he said. "Tell me what you need."

[Park Kraken]

"There is a special on Corellian Brandy's right now sir," his waiter offered as the menu was perused.
　
"I'm sure there is, with what's happening in the Corellian system right now. But I've always been more a fan of vintages with a more...mannered form of fiery taste. I'll have a glass of the Chandrilian Crimson Noir," responded the customer, sitting at the table for two with his fingers currently steeped his thoughts a million light-years away from what to have for dinner.
　
His guest was a rising star in the Imperial Navy, albeit one with a recent black spot staining his record and halting his rise in the midranks. It seems he was none too private in regards to his thoughts concerning the peace treaty, thoughts that were non favorable towards Imperial High Command. He was full of fire and reminded Park of his earlier days.
　
A shuffle of movement after the waiter had left caught his eye. Glancing over without moving his face, Park sighted his guest arriving at the table. Commander Lon Lettow, aged twenty three, a fair skinned black haired green eyed man from the backwater world of Borleais. He was polite in gesturing whether it was okay to sit down, for which Park agreed with a nod of his head.
　
"Commander Lettow, glad to see you could make it," greeted Park.
　
"I could scarcely refuse the offer of such a prestigious Admiral," replied Lettow as he took his chair.
　
"Flattery has gotten you places in the past Commander, but on this level it gets to be more of an insult than a compliment by those who play games. You would do well to remember that."
　
"My apologies, Admiral. You wished to speak with me on a matter of importance?" asked Lettow, cutting right to the chase, something Park was most agreeable with.
　
"Yes, concerning your future career. Captain Vostruck has served as a fine first officer for the Suppressor for some time now. But as a man who craves action, he has put in for a transfer to the front lines, serving as a flotilla commander for escorts fighting against pirates and raiders. I have approved this impending transfer, which leaves me an officer short."
　
"Would I," began Lettow as he gulped nervously, "possibly be in the running for such an assignment?"
　
"Perhaps, it all depends on whether you're the caliber of officer that I'm looking for. But such talk should wait until after our dinner and show. Come now, I see our waiter is returning. I may be old fashioned, but the season and seared nerf steak with Caridian tubers is a favorite of mine," Park said with a conspiratol wink.