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    Imperial - Closed Ephemera

    Falarys
    - Restricted Imperial World - Expansion Region -


    Nothing about the planet Falarys belied its true nature, and that was by design. A world of evergreen forests and beautiful mountains, it was almost entirely unspoiled, save for a handful of villages hundreds of miles from each other. But no one ever seemed to come or go from the world. Indeed, it barely registered more than a footnote in Imperial star charts.

    On the southernmost continent, overlooking one of the villages, a lodge midway up a mountain range held a commanding view of not just the valley and village, but the sea beyond. It was larger and more richly appointed than the buildings in the village, but it still adhered to the bucolic aesthetic of the planet. Hand-cut slate stonework stacked in interesting pattern. Vivid and broad beams of redwood. To anyone who might view it from afar, it seemed to be nothing more than a ranch. And indeed, with a few hundred acres of grazing foothills below that contained a hundred and twenty head of nerf, it was certainly that.

    But on Falarys, nothing was as it appeared, and that was by design.

    At the edge of a redwood deck affixed to the side of the ranch, Wulfgarn Schreiger took note of the speck of foreign influence in the distance. It wasn't difficult, even from a mile away, to pick out the spartan and clean shape of the Lambda-class shuttle parked in the pasture land that made-do for a tarmac. There were no facilities even resembling a spaceport here. There didn't need to be. Travel to and from the stars on Falarys was an arranged act. A kind of theater. This shuttle had been invited, and the sole individual exiting the craft was now being covertly watched by enough organic and synthetic eyes to obliterate any naive concept of privacy, all the while projecting exactly that. A game, maybe. Or maybe just an inside joke for the people that mattered to enjoy.

    A hologram appeared from the wooden handrail of the deck of a woman in middle age. Her raven black hair was almost certainly dyed, Schreiger thought. Not exactly out of youthful vanity, but maybe as a sign of creative control. Fit, but not putting a fine point on the matter.

    "Wave hello now."

    Thirty meters. A ranch hand paused from his tasks, offering a neighborly wave to the uniformed visitor before attending his flock.

    "Now the swinging gate."

    A smiling old man pushed aside a weathered wooden gate at the pasture's edge, offering a neighborly 'Good morning, ma'am.' A complicated suite of sensors buried in the distressed wood went to work. His guest's blue hologram took on an accent of red, highlighting the small personal blaster the weapon scanner had discretely detected. Not strictly a badge of office. Schreiger knew that his guest carried it for equally practical reasons and knew how to use it.

    beep beep...beep beep

    Distracted, the Director of the Imperial Security Bureau glanced down at his wrist chrono. Among it's many timekeeping uses, the device also helped him keep a punctual schedule of nutritive needs. Now it was time for his vitamins.

    Director Schreiger gave one last glance down to the valley at the approaching speck that was Director R. S. Esalis of Imperial Intelligence. His steely eyes moved from that distant person to her more intimate holographic representation just a reach away. Satisfied with the schedule of things, the Director turned to go back into the ranch. He'd have company in twenty-three minutes.

  2. #2
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    Falarys was a world that she did not often need to set foot upon. It was a world that rarely warranted her attentions, even. In the greater scheme of the Empire's dealings, delegation had made many things as such. She had a single higher entity that demanded her loyalty though, and for that reason Director Esalis made sure that she was not completely unreachable. She was a servant of the Empress, and because of that she coexisted with many men and women that she would not otherwise think twice about. She had her own duties and responsibilities, and her own set of tasks - coming to the Expansion Region was not entirely enjoyable, but rather a part of her job.

    So it was with Wulfgarn Schreiger.

    The man had his uses, but he was also of a peculiar sort. This retreat, situated so far out. The great pains taken to make it appear as nothing more than a simple hillside ranch. The hands giving salutations as they passed and smiling so easily.

    It was all very... frustrating.

    And perhaps it was because her own administrative habits were far different. Whatever the reason, she was here, now. Invited to this meeting with little explanation. Perhaps Schreiger knew that she would not refuse? Not that she could. One of the many tasks she had included working with the other members of Imperial groups. If that meant ISB, then she worked with ISB. If that meant COMPNOR, then she worked with COMPNOR. She worked with the Imperial Knights. She had worked with the Inquisitorius before it was disbanded.

    There was no veering away from the path. No shirking her responsibilities.

    The trail widened, then met a pair of redwood stairs. These she stopped at, and with a distinct frown, turned her icy blue gaze upward to the lodge itself.

    There was a moment when the Director of Imperial Intelligence wondered why she did not simply send her own son to handle the matter. Of course it was a thought conjured up in jest. Sheldon was the worst sort to apply to this type of situation. No, it was more an idle musing at the delight she would gain by simply ignoring Schreiger and have her son arrive as the simplest of insults.

    A long exhaled breath, and Esalis began the climb. On foot after the other, she ascended the stairway in silence. Nature was alive all around, and in the distance she could hear the nerf below, existing happily in their pastures. It was all too picturesque, frankly.

    At the landing, she stopped.

    Being invited to Falarys was one thing.

    Being invited inside was completely different, and at the very least she showed Wulfgarn Schreiger that small amount of respect.

  3. #3
    In the Director's stead, no one came. Not an ISB underling or a servant. Not even a protocol droid. The only thing on Falarys that acknowledged Director Esalis's existence was a keypad adjacent to a door hewn out of redwood with iron bindings.

    "Welcome to Hawkbat Ranch, Director Esalis."

    The voice was artificial and sterile. Feminine, but without any obvious tells of a personality matrix. It seemed to simply be a user interface. The panel's glow transitioned from red to green. A click of unseen moving mechanisms sounded, and the wooden door yawned open on a hinge far smoother than the architecture might betray.

    Passing the threshold seemed to transport one to another world. Within the interior of the ranch, the decor seemed to mutate. While the underpinnings of stone and redwood were still easy to see, entire wall panels of neutral-toned greys and off-white signaled a cleaner and more modern aesthetic. Furniture in the main living area had the look of simple design, hiding the thoughtful work in making sure each chair, each table, was positioned at it's ergonomic pinnacle. The walls were full of framed works of art, but upon closer inspection, it appeared that each piece was simply the representation of the work, recreated on a computer screen.

    At the top of a flight of stairs that seemed to be supported by nothing but air, Director Schreiger waited. He sat upon the top step, eschewing a perfectly good chair that stood only a few meters away from the energy-railed balcony.

    "I hope you weren't inconvenienced by the trip up the mountain. I've found that a lengthy constitutional helps to excercise the mind along with the body."

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    With a level gaze, the Director cast her eyes upward to Schreiger. She allowed herself to mull over his words with little real thought to them; they seemed... hollow in a way. Niceties that weren't really niceties. Small talk that did not do much to fill the air between them with actual substantial words. But, it was his way, she guessed, and a thin-lipped smile that could just as easily have been a grimace pulled at the corners of her mouth. The man was an oddity, but thorough in a way that was silently infuriating.

    Esalis stopped at the bottom step, bother hands coming together at the small of her back as she continued to stare up.

    The interior decor was a strange juxtaposition with the outward appearances of this particular estate, but it was also somewhat expected. Despite her frustrations, she knew that this and all connected with it were the standard. There was always a layer of Imperial cleanliness tucked away neatly beneath the more rustic exteriors of those properties owned and operated by the more clandestine aspects of the Imperial hand. It was simply the way of things. It was normal. Schreiger's personality and methods were annoying enough at the best of time, however.

    "Most refreshing, Director."

    Niceties that weren't really niceties.

  5. #5
    Refreshing.

    It had caught Schreiger slightly off guard, and the Director laughed, shaking his head. Was she simply too polite or simply mad? He waggled a gloved finger at Esalis, as if to say good one.

    "Refreshing, she says."

    Bounding up to his feet, Wulfgarn Schreiger clasped his hands together with an audible clap.

    "Well! How about some further refreshment? Can I get you a nutritive?"

    He was already halfway down the stairs, with momentum that would carry him to the living room.

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    "I would rather not."

    She was here because she had been requested to be. It had not necessarily been her first choice, but duty often enough rose above personal preferences. One did not rise to the level of Director by ignoring the needs of the Empire. Imperial betterment often took precedence over individual desires.

    "I did not come to Falarys so that you could show to me the quaint exterior of this establishment, nor did I come for drinks."

    Hands still at her back, Director Esalis sidestepped ever so slightly as Director Schreiger left the stairway's steps.

    Then again, at times the needs of the Empire often included indulging men like Wulfgarn Schreiger.

    "However, if you insist," she gave a courteous nod, "... then I suppose I would be a poor guest if I refused."

  7. #7
    "I'm not a slave to social rigor, Director. Sometimes a nutritive is just a nutritive."

    Schreiger slowed his pace, drawing towards one of the oversized windows that seemed to jut out above the valley and the hamlet below. He glanced back to his guest, a trace of a smile in his expression.

    "I've asked you to join me for two reasons. One, I have the closest thing to guaranteed privacy at the ranch. Two..."

    The ISB director drew a dataslip from his jacket, holding it by two gloved fingers so that its color crystals caught the sunlight from outside.

    "...I have a gift for you."

    A display was all that was given. Schreiger didn't move to place the slip in Esalis's hand.

    "Names. Three of them. Names of Imperial Intelligence agents I have uncovered as traitors to the Empire."

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    Her brow knit at that, and Director Esalis scowled. The dataslip was given little more than a passing glance as her chilled gaze settled firmly on her counterpart. She briefly wondered if the man had gone mad.

    She made no move to retrieve the slip, and instead only moved to stand somewhat beside him, letting her gaze track away and out the window to the land below.

    "You will have to excuse me," she finally started slowly, measuring each word, "... if I do not thank you so profusely."

    As a student of Armand Isard, she had learned from her old mentor so many things, including how a person who offered such information was either doing so as a test, as a lure, or as a sign that they were purely ignorant of the machinations of subterfuge.

    She doubted that Schreiger was wholly ignorant, but he had a vanity that grated upon her. Was this some form of poorly-executed brinksmanship? It was certainly no test; or at the very least she hoped that it was not. The more logical assertion was that it was a simple lure.

    One that she had no intention of taking.

    Pursing her lips, she went on.

    "I do not like how forward you are with this information, Director."

  9. #9
    "Well..."

    Schreiger demurred, tucking the dataslip back into his grasp as he showed a feigned bashful smile.

    "...all you have presently is the assurance that I have what I say I have."

    He drew out a long breath, rocking back and forth on his heels as he turned again to regard the view.

    "I'm not interested in goading or gloating or holding this above your head. It's my job to uncover traitors, you know that. If I thought less of you, I'd simply let the process sort these problems out. I would submit my report - a report that the Empress reads, mind you - and our three bad eggs would..."

    He glanced back at her with a wry smile.

    "...well, you know."

    Director Schreiger clasped his hands behind his back as he turned back to approach Esalis.

    "But really? All that matters is how the rubbish is taken out. Who the garbage men are, that's not ultimately important. The Empire maintains its purity of principle, and endures."

    Wulfgarn smiled before Esalis, an expression that seemed more practiced than genuine.

    "Now, if this were an internal matter within Imperial Intelligence, that would be a matter of convenience. You clean your own house, and I keep a few distractions from being escalated. Really, you'd be saving me so much trouble."

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    She met his eyes with a level gaze, suspicion still evident in the way that her brow knit. In matters such as these, there was never any 'give' without 'take', and Esalis found herself mulling over the possibilities that lay just ahead, still shrouded in mystery.

    "And what is it that you want in return for this... gift."

    That it was Director Schreiger, there could be any manner of favors that he would ask of her.

  11. #11
    "This isn't simply a matter of quid pro quo. I'm dealing in matters of our mutual benefit."

    Schreiger paced, tightening the slack in his black gloves as he did.

    "The Empire is half of what it was, not even ten years ago. We used to talk about ruling the galaxy, and now our grand designs swirl around grimly manning the ramparts. Protecting only what we have, with little designs on securing what we don't."

    The ISB Director halted in place, touching his chin thoughtfully.

    "Are you familiar with the Angatorrian Empire?"

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    The very notion that Schreiger was operating for mutual benefit was laughable. She knew how the Directors tended to act. Each one was selfish, grabbing for as large of a piece of recognition as they could. Whether it be a longer look afforded by the Empress or any other bit of advantageous flotsam. It honestly did not matter too awful much what the reward was; only that it belonged to one person. This notion that a Director was hoping to share some perceived reward... it was not something that she placed any amount of trust in.

    But, he'd moved on.

    She continued to stare down at the scenic landscape below them, her voice holding a tinge of disinterest.

    "I do not think that I am, Director."

  13. #13
    He shrugged at the response, not disappointed in Esalis's ignorance in even the slightest.

    "No one would hold that against you - save perhaps a single dusty professor on Imperial Center with more tenure than good sense who considered himself an expert. The Angatorrians were a backwater power in ancient galactic history - right around the dawn of the hyperspace era. They controlled a few hundred worlds in and around the Tingel Arm. None of that's important - their empire rose and fell within a century. What's interesting is a snippet, just a throwaway line really, attributed to one of the Angatorrian Emperors - Cyrosidan Auro."

    With a gesture to the air, Schreiger summoned a shimmering string of Aurrebesh text to appear as a hologram. The Director clasped his hands together, rocking back and forth slightly on his boots as he read it aloud.

    "Woe to the journeyman who touches the horizon. Heavy be the heart of the Star Lord that reaches the stars' end. What use is there for conquerors when all of creation lies conquered?"

    Wulfgarn's eyes pivoted through the luminous text, meeting Esalis's own.

    "It's easy to mock Emperor Auro and his simple and provincial lament. His empire is barely a speedbump in the annals of galactic history. It turns out that the great and mighty Angatorrian Empire scarcely could call two sectors their own."

    Schreiger laughed.

    "Ridiculous, isnt it?"

    His smile drifted away, returning him to a contemplative expression.

    "But what's interesting is that at some point in time, they believed they'd conquered all of inhabitable space. So here we are, thousands of years later, reading the late Emperor's ill-informed lamentations. Are we any better equipped to answer his question?"

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    She stared first at the letters, then him. His curious bent on history was interesting enough - even if only for a few moments.

    "I doubt that anyone will be able to answer such a thing."

    Her hands shifted then, finding each other at the small of her back.

    "It does remind me, however, of something I have read from an... old journal."

    To speak of the journal that she had so laboriously poured over time and time again - Loklorien s'Ilany's writing seemed to echo a somewhat similar sentiment. Only turned inwards. It seemed apt, now.

    "The author spoke of how a person's body was far more vast and mysterious than anything the galaxy could hold. About how it could be altered and changed in ways constrained only by imagination."

    The Director pursed her lips at the notion she had spent many nights pondering.

  15. #15
    Wulfgarn's eyes brightened. She'd inadvertently stumbled upon his point.

    "What an interesting observation."

    He tapped a raised gloved finger to his chin, letting the gesture punctuate and lend focus on Esalis's line of thought.

    "I'd say that what holds true for a person's body would also hold true for a body of state. It's the minutiae. Scale is so..."

    Schreiger pursed his lips slightly.

    "...malleable. If you can see a thing - if you can act on a thing, then you should. You and I, Director, we're in a rare fraternity. We're both Doctors. Our patient is the Empire. You've spent your career making certain the Empire keeps its arms and legs attached to the rest of it, so goes the analogy. That it doesn't get gored or maimed by something from the outside. Me? I've focused on the organs, the tissues, the cells. The little wisps of nothing that escape the naked eye but can turn to rot or cancer if they aren't excised."

    Something in Schreiger's manner turned a degree grim. He lowered his hand to his side.

    "What do you know about cancer, Director?"

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    "I know that it comes in many forms."

    She pursed her lips as her own expression grew a shade darker.

    "Nothing is safe from it. A body, a religion, an ideal, a government; there is nothing that it cannot defile."

  17. #17
    She'd taken the metaphor bait and run with it quickly. Wulfgarn didn't fault Esalis for being able to see the pattern. She was relentless in that way.

    "All true. And yet, it's even more insidious than that. Cancer isn't birthed from a microbe or a virus or a parasite. It isn't some outside invasion. At the genesis, cancer is us. It's the stuff we're made of. The smallest building blocks, the essence, whatever you wish. It always starts with a part of us that is invisible to suspicion. One day, it simply...changes."

    Schreiger snapped his fingers.

    "It may even still look like all the small pieces around it, but it serves entropy at best, or a malign purpose at worst. It grows, either reproducing or corrupting those around it or both. It escapes vigilance because it still retains aspects of the familiar. It's still us and not them. Not until metastasis."

    The Director was tiring of his metaphor, having run the breadth of it. He sighed.

    "To follow your lead, yes, cancer certainly exists beyond the literal sense. The Jedi Order was once the guardian sect of the Republic, right until the day they were its usurpers. That cancer metastasized. It killed the body that it sprang from. We're simply lucky that the force of the Emperor's will was enough to create something better. But now?"

    His steel eyes were deadly serious.

    "Now. Now.

    Now I am worried that it's all happening again."

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    Two of her fingers, hidden behind her, twitched. Not so much in worry but more a sort of impatience. Schreiger was flighty, and that he had clung to something for this long made her cautious. For all of his metaphors and careful words, the man was paranoid above all else. Which, owing to his position - it was probably a good thing. That did not mean that she was any more lenient or patient. He knew as well as she did that their positions were only as permanent as their usefulness. Which, in a way, perhaps his ever-worried inward eye served him well.

    With a narrowed gaze, Director Esalis breathed in, then exhaled slowly as she allowed the dark clouds of her expression to grow.

    "Is that so."

    There were any number of bloated and useless programs existing within the Imperial structure, but it was just as much of a possibility that he was speaking of other more outside entities.

    "Stop speaking like some old galactic soothsayer and talk plainly, man."

  19. #19
    "You of all people ought to understand the danger that follows plain speech." he warned, drawing a gloved finger up to cover his lips. Schreiger withdrew it, but only after giving a slow look about. His eyes settled on Esalis once again.

    "I invited you here to my sanctuary world because in all the galaxy, Falarys is the closest place I come to trusting in information security. So yes, Director, I'll be candid with you here, if only to make you rightfully fearful and understand my reluctance to do it a second time."

    Wulfgarn took a measured step back.

    "I'm concerned about the Imperial Knights. My concern is multi-faceted. It isn't simply their force-adept nature, but also the number of aliens in their ranks. Their leader is uncomfortably opaque to me as well, and you can understand my reluctance in trying to get too close to uncover him."

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    Memories of Rossos Atrapes reared in her head, and blinking, Esalis allowed herself to angle slightly back, rocking on her heels in the barest of motions. It was not any particular amount of shock with which she received Schreiger's words, but more a flaring of macabre curiosity. The man fed his paranoia well, allowing it to gorge and grow into a veritable monster. It was not a bad thing, considering the positions that both were in, but to see how much it consumed him was what caught her interest.

    "The Knights."

    Again those two fingers behind her back flicked against clasped knuckles.

    "They are - among other things - a very dangerous entity to goad - even in the most subtle of fashions. I would be careful, if I was you, Director."

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