Panno
The First Order
Posts: 365
Affiliation: Imperial Knights
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Post by Panno on Nov 7, 2013 7:27:08 GMT -8
This was the first of the moves that the newly anointed leader of Aaragu was going to do to secure the Deep Core once more. Despite the fact that this system in the grand scheme of things was little more than a listening post it also had two other main directives. It was one of the few ways to safely enter the Deep Core from the outer galaxy, and it needed to be guarded. The previous leader had taken the ignore it and it will ignore you stance, only listening on the off chance someone would come. Draco wouldnt be doing this, he did not believe that the whole galaxy could stop the Mnadalorians, if in the past they conquer huge swathes of the galaxy then they could manage this.
So he had sent a dozen Imperial Knights here to make sure that no one had tried to take control of it. The only person who would do so, would be the local manager of Solomon Mines. As no one was on the planet the mining corporation was the only group of people here, the knights were just checking up on them. Dropping out of hyperspace they landed on the mining platform without permission, this after all could become hostile.
Thankfully they met no resistance beyond a few pissed off miners and the small police force who asked to see permission. Walking down the halls the 12 armoured figures walked in unison parting anyone to the side like a shark through water. Walking into the meeting room they looked at the receptionist who looked back at them in fear. Although they were technically body guards to the Emperor they were also the finest fighting force they had. If they were here this was series.
Walking up to her a single knight smiled. Arguably the best looking of them all he was a blonde male, six feet tall and a chiseled jaw he spoke to her.
I need to see the branch manager, the stand in head of state sent me to check on things here. After getting permission he pushed the door open leaving the other 11 outside. Partially so as to be less imposing and partially in case they needed to deal with anyone pissed off. Xeonon Slyman I am Knight Brad For half a moment he felt a pang of sorrow, this man had a likeness and similar name to the previous leader of the Imperial Knights, pushing it aside he continued speaking. I was sent here to check up on you, make sure you were still happy with your lot in life. What he didnt say was that he was here to make sure this low life had become a warlord or not.
rolling his eyes he stood up and offered a glass of drink to Brad, after being turned down he poured only the one and drank it. Turning around he looked off into the vastness of space. AM I OKAY. Have you seen the current affairs of the galactic economy? There is none! The Empire buys the metals sure, but not at the same price as before, I need to pay the workers or else they leave. I have already cut their pay twice! It looks like I need to a third time, but I dont know how I can do that and still keep them working. Putting his hand up to his face he sighed heavily, and looked at Brad. I will survive, and figure things out. Tell the glorious leader we are still going to produce his metals and gems.
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The Major
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Post by The Major on Apr 7, 2014 20:14:14 GMT -8
It may be no more than a space station, but it was a ripping good staging area and entry point if one was coming into the Deep Core from an outer area, which the Imperial Star Destroyer Vraska recently just now has. The Nebula class vessel was awash in electronic signatures that painted it as a recent addition to the Galactic Empire's Navy. How odd it was then to the uninitiated when they laid eyes upon a capitol ship without escort -never mind the stubby "X" marking this ship with a branding that was rare to find in these parts.
:: All executive staff, report to the bridge immediately.::
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Apr 8, 2014 10:37:25 GMT -8
Though he was not to be considered part of the Destroyer’s crew, the Colonel was intrigued by the broadcasted ship-board communique. He was tasked with escorting the Major to Bastion, which had turned into a mission of safeguarding her from Boredom; rather than any sentient seeking to harm the Silver tongued devil. Thus with such a mindset in hand, Gideon passed through the dull metal doors and admitted himself onto the Bridge. Respectfully saluting the Captain and those that sought to return the gesture in kind, the Soldier had found himself gravitating towards the pyramid partitioned glasswork of the command decks viewports.
It was there the Colonel, bereft of his weapons and battle helm, stood at ease whilst he waited for the executive staff to filter in.
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The Major
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Post by The Major on Apr 13, 2014 7:08:04 GMT -8
As he entered the good Colonel might note that various adjutants and runners were dominating the space, rife with activity and buzzing like worker bees as they sought to accomplish their various operations whilst also relaying information from the officers they managed. Managed was a poor term; it was more like enabling their successful lives and wants with ease: Fetch me coffee, let's talk about this, what do you think about this force deployment configuration? we need more training on rapid E-web use on the field, how's your family? how's mine? did you see the game? the toilet paper sucks, remember to never let the privates keep their hands in their pockets, we should sow up the pockets, or make the troops themselves do it, oh, we can't because they need pockets to hold things, but no hands -never let them rest their hands.
Of course, if this was the morning argument then there would always be the hotshot captain who dismissed petty officers with a plume of cigar smoke. These were the men and women that were once the privates and runners themselves, and through battle, through loss, were promoted because they -in those moments- proved their mettle, or cunning, or ruthlessness, or even compassion. These people were like gold, and they treated their subordinates with the respect they deserved. And how could they not? Every person in this uint was a trained rifleman -even the signal workers and intel officers scurrying about like slate gray mouses right now in this room.
The commander of the vessel strides in. His last name: Shachar, was sown into the patch right above his heart. He's not important to the story other than the fact that he is the officer who directly commands the movements of the vessel Vraska. Over the course of two minutes, three other officers report, each wearing the staunch uniform indicating their rank. This vessel currently had no one higher up the food chain than the commander. Technically, Colonel Raith enjoyed the privilege of rank -though with the mind dizzying red tape and tiny print that was unit formation and number designations one would realize he was merely a guest. A guest of honor, perhaps, but a guest. In any case, the Commander and the three majors gathered in this command area had done their homework -more or less- on Herr Raith. Oh, there was nothing classified in their intelligence briefs, but what little there was painted quite the picture. Politely, they salute and offer handshakes with a number of positive, albeit serious, introductions.
It wasn't until another five minutes had passed that that certain someone decided to make her appearance. While the other officers wore their insignia and pipping proudly, she again arrived in fashion most exquisite for a funeral inspired proceeding: this one a coal black suit and tie with a pale periwinkle blouse sporting button down collars. Often people assumed the extra two buttons somehow implied a more formal air; quite the opposite was true in all cases, since the style was more or less implemented by groundskeepers and other outdoorsmen who often worked with effort but needed to at least give the hint of some sort of sophistication. Never mind the lack of symbols on her clothes, the musket served well enough.
Walking with a subtle, confident gait, the Major joins her compatriots around the main table placed towards the rear of the bridge. With a smile, she offers the Colonel her form of salutations. "I hope this is not too early for your liking, Colonel. It is roughly 0526 in Kuat time, if I rounded the number correctly." Which she did, of course. When was she ever wrong?
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Apr 13, 2014 15:21:49 GMT -8
In the expanse of time between the conclusion of the introductions with the command staff, and the arrival of the Major, Gideon had busied himself with several data files stored within the memory banks of his retinal implants. Each of these files had been pertaining to several of the Imperial Remnant worlds their former Chief of State had brought up during the previous conclave on Bastion. While he began trimming the fat from the information he was provided with, the Colonel focused solely upon the military strength that each world had at their command. He did this because of the possibility percentile of rebellion would be high in worlds that were grandfathered into an organization or faction they didn’t entirely see eye to eye with. That meant if his projected statistics were correct, at least one of the several worlds the Remnant had brought into the fold would be considered a prime target for Imperial compliance. Should the numerical data prove to be correct, Gideon relished the very thought of putting his newly reformed Legion to the test. Ever since his forces had claimed victory upon the formerly tainted world of Gamorr, they had been chomping at the bit to find themselves upon the battlefield once more. An entire galaxy eager awaited the tread of their iron shod boots, yet as they were the only active Stormtrooper Legion (Negating any similar organizations such as the Army and Naval Marine Corps.) within the entire Empire, they needed to wait until more forces had begun flying the Imperial colours. Thus with this in mind, Gideon hoped that his men would have their chance to release their pent up aggression against worthy opponents; reliving them of their stagnant lust for destruction.
As the doors parted to permit the entry of the Major, their defacto Commander of this excursion, the good Colonel pushed aside the submitted reports with a thought. They would do nothing for him now, other than be a visual annoyance should anything new present itself. Rising from the chair he had taken as the Major approached, Gideon snapped a crisp salute – which was returned in kind with a smile. While the form of salutations was unorthodox in the soldier’s mind, he had to admit many things these days were slowly following that pattern. However he couldn’t complain about such trivial things, as through such peculiar methods he had risen through the ranks and was placed in command of an entire Legion of the Imperium’s best troops. When she had taken her seat, Gideon dropped his arm to follow suite. It was uncomfortable for him to remain seated, due to the fact he had chosen – or rather had been too busy – to not swap his warplate out for another set of clothes; in which to attend this gathering.
But such was the fate of those that hardly slept, and rarely donned anything else other than what they would inevitably die in.
“I’ve been awake for a few hours already, Ma’am. Since my mission aboard the Hardpoint and subsequent action at Gamorr – Rest and I have had a very distant companionship.” He said in response to her statement, despite the nagging assumption that the Major’s comment was made out to be rhetorical. If it wasn’t, who was to say he was wrong in answering it with the truth? Gideon did have to admit that she was capable with her numeric calculations, and wouldn’t be surprised if she could plot a route through hyperspace without the use of the navigational computer. Which is partially part of the reason he was beginning to like this woman. Not in any romantic sense mind you, but more along the lines of admiration. The Colonel was too blunt for anything akin to affection, which caused several negative reactions during his days at the Cliffside Academy. Before slipping into a clouded sense of nostalgia, the soldier chose instead to focus upon the present mission at hand.
“Would it be safe to assume you called us all here to issue tasking orders," Gideon’s voice began to trail off as he voiced the following words, hoping that the Major would rectify such a deed with her silvered tongue. “Or have we gathered to discuss the method of approach for these Remnant worlds?”
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The Major
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Post by The Major on Apr 14, 2014 9:15:20 GMT -8
A sleep deprived soldier/officer? Curious. Pondering: possible repressed guilt? Addiction to post endorphin release after combat operations? Source of weakness? Habit established long ago? Perhaps if they got to know each other more, then these things could be discovered, cultivated, used, or fortified. Whatever was most helpful to the Empire would be considered; whatever was most helpful to the Fallanassi would be what was done. If she were more trusting of men, or anyone for that matter, she might request for his company in a more private setting. For now, trial by testing the statistical analytic fire would do.
"Correct on count two. I feel very fortunate to have you here specifically because of the insight you can provide into the target annexing sector. As much as the Emperor will value the Imperial Remnant's head presenting himself as a servant to the cause, the reality is that the average civilian and officer is not so inclined to acts of generous inclination. This is human nature. It is to be cherished. It is also our mission to embrace those that see the advantages of joining our sphere of influence. We, the grunts, will also be providing an Ausschluss as a showcase on how we value the remainder's rebellion.
"I anticipate this will turn into full fledged theater of war, and it will serve as an excellent proving ground for the new influx of manpower. With this inevitable eventuality in mind: what intel can you provide for us, Colonel Raith? Where do you project the highest levels of dissent? What type of resistance do you anticipate? Where?"
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Apr 14, 2014 18:10:07 GMT -8
The Colonel let a wry smile adorn the pallid features of his patrician face, as the Major had asked that he provide his theoretical findings. Ever since the Remnant had provided the information upon their holdings, Gideon had spent several hours engrossed within their statistical details. While he may have lost out upon the satin kiss of his haunted dreams, the deprivation had provided him with several speculative scenarios regarding the assimilation of the Deep Core. Naturally the Remnant’s Capital world and the system they currently orbited would be the best suited for their staging point, should an uprising occur. As the former was no longer considered the Capital of Imperial power, the citizens would no doubt be more compliant with the regime change than the other worlds. Aaghra on the other hand had little to no sentient life upon its volcanic surface, thus would prove to be the easiest to convert to Imperial rule. Pulling a code cylinder from his utility belt, Gideon uploaded several of his theoretical findings to the table’s holoprojector. With the recent injection of virtual information into the systems databanks, the hololithic suite crackled live. Bathing those present in a supple shade of sapphire, Gideon’s theoretical simulations played out in various holographic panels. Manipulating the image through the connection of the silvered rod, a single image became the enlarged focal point. The flickering conceptualization was of the entire sector, where each of the formerly splintered Imperial worlds was highlighted with a crimson hue.
“With the information provided to us by the Major-General back upon Bastion, I was able to formulate several possible outcomes to the Systems in the Deep Core being ushered into the open arms of the Imperium.“ Pausing his verbal companion to the projected presentation, the Colonel twisted his gauntleted fingers about the surface of his coded cylinder, in order to better convey his thoughts through more avenues than solely through words alone. “The highest levels of dissent, which I would confidently say might crop up when we make our presence known, would be around the worlds of Khomm, Foerost. While not in the same percentile as the previous two systems, Ojom may prove to be resistant to the return of the Empire.” The projected image of the sector faded away as Gideon forced the data to show the curvatures of each of the three planets. Lifting his arm to point his trigger finger at the frozen tundra’s of Ojom, the Colonel began with the planet that had the lowest margin for dissent. “Ojom houses the lowest margin for this theoretical application, as they have no means to procure a sizeable armed force in which to resist our advance. Granted as the System is both a mining colony and a trade hub for this system, there is the possibility of various criminal elements that might incite an uprising among the native population. As the majority of their people live within the habitation orbitals above the planet, we can easily slice into their command and control functions to vent heavily defended portions of the space stations into the void.”
“The Foerost system has the largest shipyards in this sector of space, and has a lengthy history of service within both the Galactic Republic and that of the Remnant. With the Empire reclaiming these shipyards, the chances of having the former Remnant Governor there peacefully resign his command over the orbital drydocks; is minimal.” The soldier had said, once the image had shifted over towards the pollution choked skies of this self-sustaining manufacturing world. “If the Commander there adheres to the predicted actions, he will decline our olive branch and reinforce his borders with various classifications of warships, defense satellites, and gun platforms. While my tactics in void warfare are minimal when concerning the tactics and strategies of naval combat, covert insertions would prove to be the best option in this predictable outcome, as we will be able to disable their early warning detection grids and establish a beachhead for our forces.”
Finally coming to the world of Khomm, Gideon took the time to take a cursory glance at each of the men and women sitting about the table in order to gauge their reactions thus far. When it had come to either mission briefings or to the theoretical projections of a protracted campaign, the Colonel was meticulous in his delivery. On several occasions he had bored several of his commanders with analytical drivel, causing them to drift off towards more interesting endeavours. Hopefully that would not be the case here; he thought to himself as he breathed a silent sigh of anticipation. “And finally, Khomm has the highest margin to challenge rightful Imperial rule, as it has been at the epicentre of several subsequent rebellions in the past. The ability to mass produce entire legions of combat ready soldiers within weeks would see any engaged forces stuck in a grueling war of attrition for several months. Even with orbital bombardments from several warships in high anchor, we would not advance the victory timetable more than a few weeks at best.” Removing the swirling image of Khomm from the projected hologram, Gideon let several financial documents; including shipping manifests and purchase orders, come to the forefront of his presentation. “The last report the Remnant had received from their systems commander, detailed several egregious expenditures on their planetary defense budget. Orbital defense stations, vast shipments of prefabricated garrisons and small arms and armour, were but a few examples of what was listed within their annual report. With this information in hand, we can estimate that the Khommite garrison has at least doubled in size through either fortifications or manpower since their last point of contact. If these theoretical figures prove to be true, it will significantly delay any push we make if this is to be our first point of attack in the inevitable campaign to come.”
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The Major
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Post by The Major on Apr 17, 2014 4:48:54 GMT -8
It would seem that the proceedings provoked a measure of subdued excitement in this room, and it bubbled openly from the one wearing a suit -glasses glowing faintly from the light provided by the twinkling holoprojections. Finally, the potential for a large scale and controllable civil war, a proxy war, a useful expenditure of life and theoretical credit. It is exactly the kind of thing the new Empire needed to sharpen its fingernails whilst schematically training its raw recruits into grizzled veterans, and all the while shearing away the fat and complacent with death so precise it may as well be prescribed. Our good doctor here, with her happy grins and co-do spunk would be doing her part in writing out the tickets to glory or demise. Either way it would lead to the potential for many promotions.
"Fantastic! A protracted campaign would be the safest way to test out new tactics, formations, and equipment while also advancing military combat technology. Moreover, a booming war economy could be created and expounded upon by using this sector as its catalyst. However, it is imperative that we prevent any possible victory for this potential rebellion. We will need quite the Navy to establish dominance in this theater of operations. I believe that the new fleet tasked to the Major-General will suffice, along with his army.
"Our own battalions will be reserved for missions of actual consequence. Herr Raith, your expertise as a Kommandant would be invaluable for the first mission: seizing the Foerost Shipyard. You and I can run the operation with a combined strike force, then repurpose the yards to produce anything of need. Next will be Ojom: I can not have rebel scum completely draining the precious ores of the sector. We can use our main kampfgruppen to secure and hold these. Meanwhile, the good Major-General will take the brunt of the work and 'attack up the center,' on Khom using a large portion of the million man army currently being raised on Eraidu, and anyone he can procure from the land he swore to protect. I fully anticipate him to be stalled, and so the strongest of the planets will be reduced to the most exhausted by a stalemate. Should he fail, we can easily have him executed and replaced by a more capable adjutant that the Empire provides. Should he grind out a minor victory, than his accomplishments will serve as yet another facet of our nationalism -inciting more locals to volunteer to our ranks.
"Thus, a basic plan is laid. We will whittle both sides down in order to breed loyalty with the wartorn survivors. We will also have other, more reserved objectives: -Destruction of the cloning facilities. I find them abhorrent. The soldiers raised there are a crutch, and will never surpass battle tested and unpredictable personnel. The Empire will never rely on test tube and tank grown sub-humans. That mistake will not be allowed again, not while I watch over this Reich. -Assignment of Einsatzkommando to captured and secured areas in the sector. There no doubt will be many aliens crowded this space. They will flee and expect support in the form of a savior. The Empire's coffers are not going to be wasted on making non-humans comfortable while men and women fight. They will be offered a rifle and shoved towards the very front line they have just fled from, to kill or be killed, or they will be hung from the ruined buildings as an example for the rest..."
The intelligence suggested Gideon was xenophobic. If so, he was enlightened. It was risk to utter such things, but it was a calculated risk. Besides, the Major needed to know exactly who could and who could not be trusted in this unit.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Apr 18, 2014 9:47:23 GMT -8
In the days since he had dragged himself from the wreckage of the Hardpoint, and the disaster at Gamorr, Gideon had spent his days accompanying the new Mouth of the Empire across the expanse of the void. At first, his reaction to this peculiar woman had been apprehensive as he was uncertain of her capabilities. It was a drawback of his mental conditioning, which he had been dealing with since he had thrown in his lot with the Dark Tide. Though he had originally served under Palpatine in the distant past, Gideon was now sworn to serve another Emperor with an Empire filled with mixed races, and that meant he would have to adapt to the new feminine regime. Having a plethora of female commanders over the past few months had weakened the indoctrinations hold upon his conscious thoughts, as he no longer donned the chauvinistic mindset. From Commander Kaserp, to his Emperor and the Major, Gideon felt more comfortable now than ever before in taking commands from women. They fought just as hard if not harder than men in certain situations, and thus were deserving of his admiration. However the Colonel would remain stoic upon his xenophobic stance towards any alien race, as they had done little to dissuade the soldier of his belief in Human perfection.
So, when the Major had made her distaste for anything differing from the human norm apparent, the Soldier felt that there was yet another interesting thing he could add to the ever growing list of things he liked about this woman. He could tell that, while he learned more of the mysterious woman in the suit and tie, she too was learning more of him. Well, more than what his dossier had listed. Gideon offered a respectable smirk as the Major had concluded her countering thoughts to his initial projections. Her silvered tongue seemed to have the Colonel ensnared within its embrace, as he could do little to ignore the probe seeking to draw out his proscribed hatred for anything not within acceptable human parameters.
“The destruction of the Khommite cloning tanks would be ideal, essentially condemning the planet to a slow death as its inhabitants are either scoured away in the fires of our coming, or to the relentless crusade of time.”
He pursed his lips, as the Colonel once again had taken his seat. Gideon would relish the sight of their planet burning in the wake of Imperial compliance, for it was far easier to build upon the ashes of a species than infiltrating its hierarchy to convert it to your cause. Even without the banner of the Imperium draped across their sundered ramparts, the planet of Khomm and its sentient inhabitants would reside within their stagnant lives – never seeking to change from their lethargic ways.
“Normally, I would suggest that they be preserved as their tactical application would be useful in the coming days. An unlimited supply of slave labour, that would assist the various enterprises under the Imperial Cog,” Leaning back into the uncomfortable embrace of his chair, Gideon continued, “However, that means using a weapon created by untrustworthy scum, in which it would rather see me dead, than be allowed to put an end to their miserable xenos lives.”
Tapping his finger against the surface of the table, Gideon’s smirk transformed into a malicious grin at the thought of hanging dozens of xenos scum from the sundered ramparts of their defensive bastions. Such a pleasurable thought gave rise to the man’s adrenaline, spiking the sensation of excitement through his veins. That was when he began to feel an itch burning behind the flesh of his trigger finger, prompting Gideon to ask the question;
“So, when do we begin?”
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The Major
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Post by The Major on Apr 20, 2014 7:12:54 GMT -8
Complicity, implied or otherwise, was a wonderful thing. But the Major was a detail oriented person, and she took note that Gideon specifically did not respond to the aspect of her commentary concerning the xeno filth. It was no secret for those that paid attention to happenings on Shili or Eraidu that her that areas in which her unit operated were plagued by an inordinate number of non human civilian casualties. Even back in the heyday of the N.O.E, with their multilateral stance on different species working together, there was still always an accident here, a rebellion there. Somehow the aliens would always resist, or bring out some secret coup, or instigate some other insurrection that required the fascists to protect both themselves and their latest holdings from mongrels and such other shortsighted filth. How odd it must been then that the defenders seemed to never take much pain whilst conducting these defensive maneuvers like they were mop operations. "Oh, the best defense is an attack; imagine the number of people saved; the babies protected." Doublespeak was such a wonderful thing when implemented practically.
What was he hiding? Why was he hiding? Was he even being deceptive at all? She anticipated this being was playing the game at the highest stakes possible. How sad; too bad. If that was the case, she would make the best of friends. After all, she had spent at least two years serving as an executive officer to the Lord of Famine. If anyone knew how to play official policy in a loose interpretation and still come out thriving in a den of misogynistic, depraved, egomaniacal salivaters (the NOE in this case), it was certainly the Fallanassi.
She was excited, this much was for certain. The Major takes a moment to bring herself into the moment instead of pondering on the future and its probable outcomes. Smiling sardonically with an arched eyebrow, she speaks: "We begin our operations as soon as you clear the deployment of your troops in this sector and get your force to this staging area. In the meantime, I am about to deploy a number of both official and deniable inspectors along each of the target planets in seemingly random assortment. They will directly reconnoiter and confirm the projected estimates of resistance -hmph, if any. Any recommendations?"
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Lord Sinistra
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Post by Lord Sinistra on Apr 22, 2014 4:58:16 GMT -8
As soon as her meeting with Nicademus was over, Sinistra sent the Major a encrypted comlink for her to read whenever she had a free moment.
Your success glorifies the Empire. The Emperor craves an audience. At your earliest convenience, report to Kuat to discuss your next assignment.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 22, 2014 19:10:45 GMT -8
The Colonel fell deeper into the uncomfortable embrace of his chair, as he contemplated the Major’s words. Clearing his men and their operational assets for battle would be a simple matter once they had returned to Kuati airspace, yet that was not what caused the soldier to take a moment in which to think. It was the simplest question she could have asked him, but it was the hardest he could ever answer. He wasn’t skilled in the realm of diplomacy, as was made clear at the Bastion conclave; however that meant the soldier needed to apply his tactical acumen to the situation. Each of the planets he had listed during his brief presentation would meet his error of margin in some respect, yet there was one planet that had never cropped up during his night of formulating projections. The one planet they had believed would be the most accepting of the change; Aargau, the former capital world of the Imperial Remnant. As he had begun spinning his web of possible outcomes, it had been made apparent to the stormtrooper that the world was ripe for insurrection. It was a world that had reveled in the tithes from the surrounding sectors, although that would drastically change now that Kuat had become the throneworld. So, the chances of the population becoming disgruntled with their new masters were higher than he originally thought. Gideon chalked that victory up to the lack of rest, and as a result he resolved to garner plenty of sleep upon the return trip – so that such an egregious error would not occur again.
Leaning forward after a minute of expectant silence, the Colonel hid what he could of his momentary embarrassment, before stoically speaking once more.
“While not initially considered among my initial projections, Aargau would be the most ideal place to have your men begin their search. Being the former Capital world of the Imperial Remnant, and suddenly expected to pay a tithe to their new master, it would be more than enough cause to spark some civil unrest.” He cut himself off in order to lift his gauntleted hand to stroke at his cleanly shaven skin. “Therefore opening the breach, that would lead us to the full scale deployment of the Imperium’s armed forces.” “If I could beggar a favour, Major,” the Colonel added, “Would you be able to have your investigators inform me of the highest concentration of xenos life forms on any and all of the former Remnant worlds, should they come across such information? My men and I may have need of such statistics once the expected campaign begins.” So that we may bloody our boots upon the mounds of corpses we shall leave in our wake. The Colonel had left those words unsaid, not to keep them from the human inclined Major, but more so to keep his composure off the battlefield. The man was tired, and because of that, Gideon knew he would do something stupid had he not controlled his hatred for anything not of the human genome. Blinking such thoughts aside in favour of the present tense, the Soldier merely offered a smile whilst he waited for what would come next.
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The Major
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Post by The Major on Apr 25, 2014 19:22:15 GMT -8
Curiouser and curiouser. A chance at a change of heart, Colonel - or perhaps a consideration that you had not considered before? In any case, the good Major, the main one anyway, wasn't about to ostracize a potential ally over nitpicking each and every sentence down to its selected verb and adjective choices. He simply had the potential to be too useful, and there was something inherently better about dealing with a soldier over civilians or politicians. Until Gideon exhausted such potency, the Fallanassi would ensure that she would get good mileage out of him, even if that meant shifting his vantage point with an metaphorical artillery thought strike.
All in good time, and all when the randomized chanced had reduced the odds to something a little more manageable.
"Of course, Colonel. It would be. . . irresponsible to not take a proper account for all the various aspects of data that an encounter could offer. This is the glory of the new Empire that we are the holders and surveyors of: to let it up to unaccounted factors would be completely neglectful. We will gather the data others do not even consider, because in each and every succulent detail there holds victory or defeat." Special diction -for special circumstances, for very special people.
Unlike most people, the Major did not own a traditional comlink. Instead, her glasses housed a number of micro computers which synced with the datapad currently resting in her heart side inner chest pocket. This datapad received the transmission from the imperial office and translated it into holographic, one sided text displayed into Allgemeustch that only the wearer could see. Outwardly, the only thing that could imply any shift in her mood was a sudden, sardonic eyebrow arching a long with a slight cant of her head. Once this resets back to cordial, the woman continues speaking, taking mental note of how and when she would exactly return to Kuat.
"Tell me, Colonel: what do you think of this Empire? Bold claims have been made, and many a life has been lost, but besides a few specific planets laying on specific trade routes -who does actually not deem this movement as irrelevant? Do you believe that we will breakout?
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Post by Deleted on Apr 27, 2014 8:51:02 GMT -8
While it was true that Gideon held no love for the inhuman aliens, this new Empire had enforced new standards of equality throughout the armed forces. It had been a surprising change for the Colonel, as he had seen many of the men and women in power were along the genetic human baseline, thus for several days he had wondered why such a change had been made. The answer came to him before the Major had requested his company, in the form of a world called Gamorr. Because of the reckless acts of wanton slaughter committed by the men under his command, the Empire had to suffer the more Republican standards of tolerance. The Colonel would see to it that he would not go against the Emperor’s wishes – so long as they were aligned with the greater needs of the Empire. The Emperor Sinistra had said best herself; in the address regarding the changes in the trademark Imperial stance upon xenophobia. One person does not make an Empire.
After such an announcement was made before her trip towards the Outer Rims, Gideon had spent many days languishing in the prison of his own mind. The deeply ingrained indoctrination was the worst enemy he would ever face, as he stood against his own history and everything that made him into who he was today. Asked, nay forced to submit to these new protocols was not something he could do lightly, and the Colonel imagined that he would forever more be faced with this crisis of identity. He could make a stand against his own ideals, should he desire, but that would interfere with the way his mind was conditioned. He was a soldier of the Empire and could never turn his back upon the true sovereignty of the Imperial Court, nor could he be forced to abide the continuity of alien life within positions of power. The Colonel knew that xenos breeds would be useful as either servile creatures or fodder for the most atrocious meat grinders, but taking orders from those that know nothing of the human perfection or of our rigid doctrines of discipline? Such thoughts would be absurd.
However, as the looming threat of treason hangs above his Aryan head – Gideon would be forced to suffer the presence of the filthy xenos scum for the time being in order to fulfill the letter of his duties and ensure the continuance of the glorious Empire. Though, as he sat with his arms crossed before his breastplate in the company of the Major, it seemed like she was testing him, as the probing questions she had been asking him previous leaned towards what stance he took upon the Empire’s dealing with the inhuman scum of the Galaxy. He had to admit that she was well versed in her literature, giving cadence to her skills as a masterful orator gifted with a silvered tongue.
“Having formerly been a part of the Empire’s previous organization, I can honestly say that Time it-self will be our greatest ally and foe in the coming days. If we keep along the current path, we will break out of the traditionalist Imperial mould, and overtake the galaxy within a decade or two. Such projected figures could be made shorter should we take a more Imperialistic mindset of expansion – rather than follow the diplomatic routes of the Republic...” He stilled his tongue, knowing that if his earlier assumptions – brought about by the connection of dots from one event to another – proved true, the orbit of Aaghra would be a perfect place; if any, to have the Colonel executed for treason against the Imperial crown. “If it is the Imperium’s will to have the Galaxy see that we are in fact it’s saviours, then who am I to deny such grand dreams?”
“That is to say, if only I understood your intended meaning in the use of break out.”
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Apr 27, 2014 10:42:34 GMT -8
An officer onboard the ship reports that a holo transmission is coming in from Kuat. Once the transmission was transferred to the meeting room where Gideon, Major and others were located, the holo projection would reveal the familiar figure of Nicademus Delvardus. The only noticeable change upon his uniform was a new insignia which bore the rank of Moff. Nicademus clears his voice and turns to the Major and Gideon.
I am terrible sorry for interrupting your meeting, Major and Colonel. My meeting with the Emperor went well, the generosity of the Emperor has granted me the rank of Moff for the Deep Core. Before I departed from Kuat, I thought I should check in and ask for any updates from the Deep Core. Has the inspection been going as planned?
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The Major
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Post by The Major on Apr 28, 2014 5:18:11 GMT -8
A perfect response from the Colonel -almost too perfect, as if the subject had required a great deal of thinking, and thus had resulted in practiced response that would save him from charges of treason. Silly, proud man, the Fallanassi was nothing if not sympathetic to his plight, nor did she have any intention of reporting any of his quirks to a higher authority so that he could be tried and executed. Well, of course, unless he made himself an enemy. How difficult it must be, to be raised to believe human supremacy was as normal and predestined as the exertion of physics, and then take a part of something that outright illegalized a staunch belief.
Yet, in an amoral person such as the morbid sniper here, laws were just boundaries established for the common. As long as the law served her, she'd use it. Once it stood in her way, however.....
"Congratulations on your promotion, newly minted Grand Moff. Allow me to provide a sitrep: recent excursions into the area are met with heavy bureaucratic resistance in the form of stalling. Something big is brewing down there, Moff. Colonel Raith has provided an excellent and comprehensive analysis based upon the recon reports that you should find indispensable. We are currently holding position over Aaghra, waiting for your fleet to arrive.
"As you know, my own kampfgruppe is completely autonomous and answers only to the summons of the Head of State. I have executive orders to return back to Kuat, and as much as it is painful to not be a part of a budding front under your supervision, I must comply barring mortal peril. Thus, you expediting your return would be most helpful."
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Apr 28, 2014 23:49:16 GMT -8
The holoimage of the Moff phased slightly as Nicademus stood, looking at the Major and Colonel Raith. He reaches up, slightly rubbing his chin at this report. Stalling tactics and heavy bureaucracy? He wondered if Garek, who was stationed on Aargau, knew of this. The Moff's gaze turns from the Major to Gideon Raith. His eyes then returned to the Major.
This is indeed an interesting report. I will have to look into this when I return to the Deep Coore. I am sorry for keeping you waiting, Major and delaying your duties. I shall have my fleet report for duty in the Deep Core to relieve you. It shouldn't take me too long to get aboard my fleet and jump for Aargha. I will ask for a full report of any updates once I arrive.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 29, 2014 18:41:12 GMT -8
Gideon couldn’t say that he was surprised the former Major-General, now Moff over his former holdings, had interrupted the informal and seemingly inquisitive briefing. He listened in disciplined silence as the Major had detailed their previous discussion in microcosm to the wavering hololithic image. His lips had curled into a smile however, when the Major had listed the man as a Grand Moff rather than his true honourific title. Was this a calculated mistake to curry a future favour from the man once he had re-established his base of power, or simply an act to inflate his ego? Unsure if the egregious assumptions were correct, the Colonel merely shifted in his seat – an act to reveal the discomfort his choice of attire had brought. With the proper respects delivered once his sunken and patrician features had drawn the gaze of the newly minted Governor, Gideon decided his silence was no longer required.
“Perhaps, for the sake of convenience on all our parts, the Emperor’s included,” Gideon began, letting his attention drift towards the bespectacled gaze of the Major. “I could procure a shuttle from one of the Hangar bays and brief Moff Delvardus in person, while you return to Kuat to answer the summons of her Majesty.”
The Stormtrooper would feel a sliver of remorse resound within his heart, should this course of action transpire as he had come to enjoy the time they had spent together. The brilliance contained within the lanky and lusterless frame of the woman sitting across from him, had ignited a flame of camaraderie that would – given time to temper – eventually turn into something akin to an unbreakable bond of friendship between the two persons of interest. That would all depend upon the semantics of the Imperium and her ceaseless acts of expansion, as with the Major being a part of the inner coven of Imperial hierarchy, and he being a lowly Colonel, Gideon doubted they would ever meet again under similar circumstances. Such was the fate of having friends in high places, yet even though they would soon depart from one and another’s company, the memories and files he had collected would be uncharacteristically cherished.
“That is, my lady, should you desire to return to the throne world with all due haste.”
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The Major
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Post by The Major on May 5, 2014 18:12:18 GMT -8
"Nonsense. If the summons was a matter of timing then it would have been marked as urgent. Besides, I am not a dragon that can have chains driven into its cheeks, to be tethered and led like a war mastiff around the stars. Deeds, titles, governments, or society's expectations: they are all fleeting and change with more frailty than grains of sand in the air. Imagine that poor war beast now, confused by the ever shifting master. How do they retain an identity? They may very well contradict their very natures over and over, prostituting themselves to each passing fancy. However, if something compelling manifests, then even the most staunch of uncompromisers must be inclined to investigate. Regardless of existential criticisms, there must be some rather interesting matter at stake to justify a meeting face to face. How exciting! Besides, you do not think that I will leave a high ranking officer alone in territory that could prove to be belligerent. The fact is that I am waiting until the good, hm, Deep Core Moff rallies. Anything else would be irresponsible, would you not say, Komrade?
"So, my clever friend, you will not get rid of me so easily. Settle in. Sit back. This may take awhile. You three: dismissed." And at the word "dismissed" the Major waves off the other three majors, flourishing her fingers as if they each were pestering fruit flies.
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on May 5, 2014 18:35:15 GMT -8
The Moff's holoimage stood there as the Major went into a sort of a rant, if someone could call it a rant. His image phased slightly as his gaze watched a trio of other officers leave once the long worded paragraph from the Major's mouth was said. Nicademus wasn't entirely sure how to respond to this. After a few moments of silence after the three were left alone, he clears his throat before speaking to the Major and Colonel Raith
I shall be departing from Kuat shortly as I have said. I shall see if any sort of reports have come in while I have been away. I would ask that you monitor the channels of the Deep Core region till I return, Major. From what I have been told by my Admiral in orbit over Kuat...things have been quiet...too quiet.
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