The Major
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Saarlan
Mar 3, 2014 21:16:56 GMT -8
Post by The Major on Mar 3, 2014 21:16:56 GMT -8
That level of sneakiness earns Tess a solid five seconds of glaring, though perhaps it wasn't as death causing and cold as it could be.
"Why, I am me, of course. Enough of that for a moment. Have you been keeping track of galactic news? And no, besides what brand new blends of alcohol that have been created in some backwater planet's refresher (although that is very important). There is a woman which goes by the name of Sinistra coming. She has worked for various groups and has made a name for herself as something of rather voracious Sith Lord -not that I believe in titles or designations of Current alignment. At the moment, her group currently controls the Kuat Drive Yards, the largest ship building facility slash cosmopolis. They have recently suffered from an invasion, but have successfully repelled or absorbed their attackers into their ranks, if the current intel reports are correct. Now Sinistra and her allies have joined their collective resources and are founding a new Galactic Empire. At the moment, they officially control seven star systems and are massing on the borders of at least a dozen others. They are too big now to be ignored, too dangerous to not either take a side for or against, and far too ambitious to have where you cannot see them. . . "
The Major takes a quick pause to get back to work with the towel and her hair. That massive quantity was no where near done being dried.
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Tess/Tez Bola
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"...I've discounted suicide in favor of killing everyone else in the entire world instead."
Posts: 633
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Saarlan
Mar 3, 2014 21:37:03 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by Tess/Tez Bola on Mar 3, 2014 21:37:03 GMT -8
"Emperor? Is she that really short lady with long brown hair on the holo news? I saw her face pop up on a bunch of frequencies, but didn't pay attention to the stories. Why are you meeting up with her? What's your hold in this empire, exactly?" Tess asked more questions than she expected answers. Counter productive, really. It was a lot of information to take in at once, especially being mildly intoxicated so soon after waking up. "What's my role in this, you know, where you're involved? Since you're this leader, does that make me a diplomat? Where is your palace? When is this meeting? Are you hungry? Can we order room service? "
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The Major
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Saarlan
Mar 3, 2014 21:52:29 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by The Major on Mar 3, 2014 21:52:29 GMT -8
Poor girl. This was probably way over the typical, un political person's head. Problem was that nobody here saw the obviously tipsy woman as typical. Still, even the Major had to admit that it was probably way too early in her morning to be talking all about this. Plus there was no discounting that Tess might have not had the aptitude to care for such things. If it were true, it must be great to be so lucky.
"Breakfast nearly at noon sounds wonderful, actually. Let's take a break from this and get you some food, yes?"
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Tess/Tez Bola
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"...I've discounted suicide in favor of killing everyone else in the entire world instead."
Posts: 633
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Saarlan
Mar 4, 2014 7:47:32 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by Tess/Tez Bola on Mar 4, 2014 7:47:32 GMT -8
The recently titled "Wild Card" was a bit perplexed as to the nature of this meeting. Why here? Why now? There was a lot she didn't know about politics, that is true, but she wasn't new to sneaky backwards situations. Major barely told her anything, nor did she answer any of her crucial questions. She knew Major was a private and secretive sort, but it wasn't justifiable enough to drag her in to a situation where her life could be endangered. She would go along for now, the pretty little puppet, but Major and the others better hope that they don't make her angry.
Tess ordered black coffee, toast, and bacon in an attempt to regain her wits. She kept her eyes on Major while she spoke of other things, listening to the inflections. Especially listening to what wasn't being said. They continued watching the holo news, only this time, she paid attention to key terms: galactic empire, civil war, death toll, unanimous vote, etc. She wasn't sure what to expect, but she knew she wasn't going to end up with a bullet in her back.
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The Major
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Saarlan
Mar 4, 2014 14:03:41 GMT -8
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Post by The Major on Mar 4, 2014 14:03:41 GMT -8
Once they have completed their first meal of the day, the Major noted a certain lack of enthusiasm in regards to her linguistics coach's mannerisms and vocal intonations. They were subtle enough to be completely unnoticed by a mind lacking a detail oriented approach. Tess also wasn't outwardly behaving like some unruly child who had had their day spoiled by unwelcome news. It would seem that the auburn haired woman was attempting to empathize while doing her best to connect abstract points that had no relation to one another besides the Fallanassi claiming so. How unfair, and selfishly direct the Major had been. How could anyone be expected to be thrust into matters of concern for the galaxy at large, and even asked to be present at a summit with some of the most dangerous and prolific figures on the scene at large?
Per usual, the agile markswoman had overlooked the perspective of yet another person in her direct vicinity, instead being taken up with consideration of the coming discussion. Determined to bring Tess deeper into her own brand of madness, either out of respect for building more trust, allowing her to see all the facts surrounding this culmination, or simply just to try and keep Tess as comfortable as possible since she did not handle overwhelming stress well, the morbid scientist elaborates. Taking her into this situation without the proper knowledge would be in a sense to keep her mentally unarmed. Such was irresponsible, and it was high time to correct this, as dark and as repulsive some of the details would no doubt be. No matter, better for Tess to be disgruntled now and take her leave from their new found partnership, than to have her breaking her practiced, nonplussed state -either risking the talks themselves, or hurting her sensibilities later when the whole picture created itself with the tiny fractals of information she was currently eating up piecemeal.
And so the Major provides a warning disclaimer that this would be one of her more lengthy expository speeches, beginning with a few deep breaths as she mentally checks to ensure she explains while adhering to single line of thought. Wandering with assumptions wouldn't help, so instead she only recounts the tale without showing any clear bias. At least, she was trying to. The Fallanassi begins by stating that she wasn't trying to be cute with running along with Tess' princess analogy: her homeworld was actually destroyed a few years back. At the moment, it was nothing more than an icy ruin of broken steel and supercooled fog. Most of the people that lived there were long since frozen in radioactive chunks, and the only survivors had been those who had been supportive of the Major's predictions. Since then, she had promised to lead them. As honorable as that seemed, pride in their culture, which now was practically lost, demanded that they not only survive post Fatherland's demise, but they must also seek to thrive. Thirsty both to prove and earn their loyalty, along with proving it to herself with that same sort of determination that often skirted chaos, they set off into space -not only looking for a new home, but also looking to instill their brand of philosophy upon those with the hearts to bear it. Throughout the course of their explorations, they made a great deal of use of things taken from those who resist. In the process, friends were lost, new alliances were formed, and in another instance another planet had fallen to the internal struggles of a civil war due to the Remnant's humanocentric approach to individual based Fascism. They moved on, continuing this cycle until they finally made landfall upon Shili. Down to a few hundred thousand, and not getting any younger (besides the undead, but that was a story for another time) a shift in focus was needed.
Roots needed to be planted. Otherwise, they would keep losing people with every lost battle until none of them were left, and then their ideas would surely disappear off the face of the galaxy.
Shili represented more than just a temporary resort, but a chance for them to recoup the very few families aboard the massive ships looming overhead. It was entirely possible for them to achieve this independence on their own power, but it was obvious the winds of galactic policy were shifting. To stand alone as two massive powers called their borders was an open invitation to be conquered or attack by either. Worse yet, the Major's actions both within the N.O.E and with the critical errors on Onderon and Dressel had caused her presence to at least be detected on a larger scale. Sooner or later, someone undesired was going to force this group into an undesirable position. Cooperation with the Galactic Empire not only offered protection and amnesty, but it also allowed the Major to bring a joint effort on her terms. At least, thus was the theory.
After explaining the motivation behind the summit, the Fallanassi begins to expound more on the newly minted leader of the Empire. Sinistra, roughly 60 years of age, had been involved in the larger debacles of galactic news for the last few decades. For the Major, she had served as something of a childhood idol -a hero- along with Palpatine, Thrawn, and even Jagged Fel. Such figures of power, all mostly people who consistently lived life amid struggle after struggle, were something of a source of romanticism for kid Shepardt while playing alone in woodland havens. But she was dangerous, vicious, and renown for violence. Things could become hairy in the next few days. So that Tess may be calmer as anything transpires, the Major outlines that Tess' safety was the first priority, and her objective should be to escape and elude capture with no regard to collateral damage. Heroics of any sort were to be completely ignored regardless of the cost. Eventually the topic of why there would be any animosity between the two different leaders arose, which leads to the Fallanassi explaining the entire mess with Eralam which had led Major to this point in the first place, including the cabin trap, his "internal nuke," and even the points where the Fallanassi had lead him on. It certainly helped painting a picture that the Major was rarely a victim and more often than not looking to use others. The critical fact is that Sinistra was the last person to be seen with the ex-Shard. Presumably, from the Major's feelings, they had slept together or otherwise bonded. Which meant that there was a slight possibility that the Sith Lord might avenge the honor of her new lover by using this summit as a chance to attack.
There was only one way to find out what was planned.
Now that Tess was bought up to speed, the Major fully expected her to now take her leave. She had been silent for a while now. Most likely? Angry.
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The Major
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Post by The Major on Mar 5, 2014 8:58:29 GMT -8
. . .Meanwhile, across town. . . The Chiss Ambassador had now tallied it as twenty three times his dignitary mark had burst into a long string of profanity. . . in just the last hour. To say the Chiss man was at his end with the colourful language would not be inaccurate. He was also very confident that he had heard some new insults and expletives that sounded very rancid. How could anyone stand this dignitary's gruff demeanor for long? The Ambassador answered his own question: another gruff as****e. Damn it. It was leaking off.
Trying to regain the upper hand in these "talks," the Chiss provides details that may have been of interest to this security consultant. The visitors would be be staying at his selected hotel, The Saldinger, as the locals called it. To ease possible tensions the entire 15 story building was leased out to Sinistra and her cohorts for the duration of their stay, at Saarlan's expense. It definitely wasn't even close to being as ritzy has the Hammungdung, but far more defensible both due to its floor layout and its location along the resort's waterfront. Also, there were no landing pads for shuttles on either the meeting building or the hotel -a design choice due to the art deco architecture that dominated the look of the city. Besides a private crew of service staff, military personnel, whether SNSAP-PD, Allgemeine SS, or the Major's Fallschirmjäger were strictly forbidden to enter the Saldinger until the summit was over. A regiment of the 3rd Fallschirmjäger was currently garrisoned within Saarlan, split into three swift response teams, each assigned as a task force over a different area, including one kampfgruppe assigned to the Victory Class Star Destroyer, Ulvenwald, hovering menacingly just above the tallest mountain in the area of operations, just to the west. The Chiss then informs the dignitary that all the main guns and batteries will be warmed up and ready to fire at all times, and have even been pre-sighted to ensure pin point precision. Mostly he assured it was a precaution in case any one in the galaxy decided to try and take advantage of the situation. Basically, any trouble caused either within or around the mountain town would be dealt with swiftly and with extreme prejudice.
Unless the visitors wandered into the staging areas on the fringes of the town, they should encounter no military personnel on active duty. Oh, the population was made up of officers and their families, but none of them would be there on any kind of official business. It was their home after all.
Now comes the outline of the meeting area itself. That would take place in the tallest structure of Saarlan: a forty story "skyscraper" about 500 meters southwest from the Saldinger Hotel, which was situated towards the center of the town.
". . .so we're about to come up in the parking garage very soon. From there, we'll have to walk about two kilometers through the town to your hotel. A lot of newcomers find this annoying, but the city was designed to be traversed by foot. Speeders and shuttles just don't fit in the crowded streets, or between the buildings themselves. I hope you're wearing comfortable boots: cobblestone has a way of biting the foot if you try to go for dress over efficiency. " |
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 5, 2014 12:19:32 GMT -8
Gulliver grinned and looked down at his well-worn, well travelled boots. They might have been tan at one point. Hell, they might have been bright pink with purple polka dots. You couldn't tell now, because the filth of a dozen worlds had rendered them a mottled grey.
"I don't think that will be a problem, bud. However, we'll have to arrange a one-off connection once the others arrive. That's way the hell too far for my principal to have to go on foot, especially if there's insurgent activity on the planet. I'm sure it wouldn't be hard for a sufficiently skilled pilot to land at the waterfront. There looked to be a town square or something on the map, right near the hotel that would do nicely."
It was a pleasant little town, all things considered. A mercenary will travel to many worlds and see many things, both breathtakingly beautiful and mindnumbingly horrifying. It was a nice change of pace to end up with merely "pleasant." Still, while Gulliver was about as Force sensitive as a rock, he couldn't help but pick up an undercurrent of uneasiness in the air. The military folk seemed relaxed, but the ones he picked out as townspeople all had that same harried, nervous demeanor that he had seen a few times. They weren't exactly fearful, per se, but something had spooked them. That would have to go in the report.
Once they got to the hotel itself, Foyle couldn't help but whistle in appreciation. It was a sturdy looking building, with walls of what appeared to be local stone. The layout was a defense planner's wet dream. With twenty guys, some crew served weapons, and ammo, they could hold off anything short of a tank for as long as the bullets held out. Hell, the roof even looked like it had some good spots to set up missile crews, so even tanks and starfighters would have to think twice.
"As long as we get that worked out, we should be set. I have to say, I'm impressed by the efficiency of your operation. If any of you ever want to sit down and compare notes on counterinsurgency, I'd say it's a safe assumption that we could learn a thing or two from each other."
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Tess/Tez Bola
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"...I've discounted suicide in favor of killing everyone else in the entire world instead."
Posts: 633
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Saarlan
Mar 5, 2014 12:56:38 GMT -8
Post by Tess/Tez Bola on Mar 5, 2014 12:56:38 GMT -8
Elsewhere...
Tess took in all of what Major had to say without interrupting her with useless commentary or redundant questions. She had no choice but to take Major's side as the truth, never having been present during any of her ordeals. She dreaded meeting these people in the hours or days to come, these phantoms haunting her dear friend's past. As she choked down the last bit of her liquid happiness, she mentally prepared herself: what to say to whom, where to go if things go wrong, should she listen to Major's instructions, as well as planning out other various scenarios. She silently rose from her position on the couch and began to suit up for the excursion.
She was going to be out of place, that was for certain. Why did she even agree to attend? Major doesn't need a bodyguard, evidenced especially by the stories she had told. Was she to be moral support? A buffer? A physical representation of Major moving on from her past's muddled affairs? Whatever the reason, Tess would do her best to not fail her companion. If things went haywire, she would be ready. Not only ready to defend, but to become the person she had always dreaded reverting back to. Someone she felt would be far removed now, finally finding her niche on this planet. Tess shrugged. She had to do what she had to do.
Tess stepped out from the bathroom, fully dressed while eyeing Major intensely. "When does the fun start, Cap'n?"
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The Major
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Saarlan
Mar 5, 2014 20:58:50 GMT -8
Post by The Major on Mar 5, 2014 20:58:50 GMT -8
Mind readers herein were not present in the luxury suite. Inclinations might be seen, or feelings detected, but to assume that the actual extraction of thought processes directly was at the moment possible could be defined sufficiently as a pipe dream. The presumed pirate of circumstance had at least listened to the Major's speech -the follow up and interruptive questions proved it. However, when all was said, when vocal chords were going hoarse not due to strain but to the magnitude of the aforementioned topics, there was silence. Tess sat quietly, and in those crushing moments while the Fallanassi waited to hear the response, the inevitable departure of this person -quickly in, quickly out, she would recount it as oppressive knee shaking silence. It grew as a knot in the stomach and spread outwards along the traitorous transport ducts otherwise known as her tepid veins. How could one ever recover from this? Sharing ones weakness? Beating down another person with your dredges, the exposure, the ravaging that was reliving the moment, how could she ever do this again? She wouldn't. She couldn't. This downward spiral of thought ran its chaotic course and began to sow doubts, blossom insecurities, display neurotic tendencies. To measure the amount of time this darkness made its dramatic stomp upon the brain spanned infinities, which only meant the same horrors would have to be replayed again and again. 20 years dead already? Not another twenty years, not like this.
Wallow selfishly and you might miss the goodness right in front of those farsighted glasses.
Captain? And then the Major both thought and said aloud: "I take myself too seriously.
"Demote me to Captain, will you? Fine, you're promoted to commodore. Congratulations, Commodore.
"Thank you, Commodore."
There was no need to shower again, but going out dressed in what was probably considered comfortable sleep wear would not do. Taking a complete outfit from a walk-in closet, the Major, or Cap'n, depending on who you were asking, opens the door that leads to the refresher and restroom before promptly beginning to undress in order to redress. She is cheerful, even relived, humming a tune that you couldn't pinpoint unless you already knew it. Judging by the clarity of sound it was apparent that she had left the door open, probably not paying to contrite things like modesty at the moment.
"I challenge you to a duel on the field of honor once the summit is over. Charges: cruel and unusual punishment by demotion prior to a major operation's commencement. We will play the sport of kings, a drinking contest. Er, or maybe that was the sport of staff sargents? Bah, noncoms are more amusing. And to make it better, we can gamble on who wins."
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Tess/Tez Bola
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"...I've discounted suicide in favor of killing everyone else in the entire world instead."
Posts: 633
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Saarlan
Mar 5, 2014 21:32:00 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by Tess/Tez Bola on Mar 5, 2014 21:32:00 GMT -8
"Hey, Major," Tess began while lacing up her boots. As much as Tess enjoyed being in Major's company, it was beginning to become rather vexing being ignored. Indeed, Tess had told her she was an apt listener and avid supporter but it didn't warrant disrespect in any variety in regards to their bond. "You didn't answer my question. In fact, you never really do answer my questions. Not fully, anyway. I only hear what you want to tell me, the matter and time of your choosing, when it is convenient for you. If I'm to go somewhere I might die, at least give me a time and location prior to so I can say goodbye." Tess rationalized that her little outburst was a bit on the melodramatic side, but this woman seemed to thrive in all things drama oriented. It was the only way to snag her attention. "And by the way, if we don't die, I'm betting on myself to outdrink your supple ass." Better make the final hours count she supposed. Putting the Major in a good mood before this ordeal transpires would hopefully be the best plan.
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The Major
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Saarlan
Mar 5, 2014 22:25:38 GMT -8
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Post by The Major on Mar 5, 2014 22:25:38 GMT -8
At the Saldinger:
"Ja, some of the wealthier residents like to land at the marinas and walk from there. Tell you what, I can have a walkway in thirty minutes, the kind used to board ships, by the hotel's rear boardwalk. Do your people use space craft that is sea landing capable? If so, I'll make the call. It should be about a 30 meter walk to the front door of the Saldinger. I'm positive your master can handle it, right? Can she? Does she use a hoverchair? I'll make arrangements to accommodate that as well if so..." Said the ambassador to the security consultant. Nerves were starting to edge up as the plan became reality.
At the Hammungdung:
There was a momentary hush from the bathroom, as though Tess' direct statements caused yet more commotion. Instead of yelling out the answer, the Major instead finishes her look in a few minutes. No doubt it pissed off the linguistics coach by one metric crapton. In any event, the Fallanassi explains one she emerges, her face stem, but not at all upset.
"Yet another apology I owe you that will have to take a rain che--- no. No. I have a habit. If I don't know an exact value, I simply do not mention it. Looking clueless is not something that keeps you alive for long in this galaxy. The truth is that I'm only receiving a transmission of Sinistra's ship arriving at this moment. The meeting might begin straightaway, or might take a few hours to allow last minute accommodations. It doesn't seem very mysterious and info broker esqe to not even be aware of such a detail."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 6, 2014 9:12:06 GMT -8
"Take it easy, man," Gulliver said as he pulled a can of dip out of his pocket, tamped it down, and put in a healthy-sized pinch. He offered the can to the Chiss, who was looking a little green around the gills. "Here, try some. It'll help you relax."
Just then, the sound of the first shuttle just barely started to reach their ears. It was a long way off, but it would be there shortly.
"Now, the troop shuttles are amphibious. We'll have them land on the waterfront and secure the LZ for the Emperor, because last I checked, Lambas don't like water."
Using a datapad, the mercenary fed the incoming shuttle the coordinates for its landing zone. True to form, the pilot came in hot, but managed to have the unwieldy craft under control by the time it set gently down on the water's edge. Once the ramp was down, the stormtroopers disembarked with a quickness, establishing 360 degree security but not being obvious about it.
On many worlds, an honor guard would be present to greet foreign dignitaries, but as Gulliver's guide had explained, his faction only sent out the "honor guard" when they wished to arrest the dignitary in question. As a sign of respect, Reich troops would not be present in either the hotel or the meeting site, and there would be no honor guard. Not that the massive merc seemed to mind. The idea of a few dozen of the other guy's best trained troops all standing nice and pretty in a line for the Emperor to walk past set his short, fuzzy hair on edge. At any rate, that was one of the many things included in the data packet sent to the flagship.
Once the LZ had been gently cleared of onlookers, the captain of the half-company that had been assigned to this particular duty trotted over.
"We're good to go, sir. I've got First Platoon securing the area. Second is broken up in half, with first and second squad as the Honor Guard and escort team, while third and fourth are sweeping the hotel. If everything is clean there, we'll be good to go in about fifteen minutes."
Gulliver nodded.
"Good shit. Alright, let's review the plan one more time..."
Fifteen minutes later, the hotel was declared secure, and the "All clear" was sent to the flagship in orbit.
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The Major
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Saarlan
Mar 6, 2014 11:45:27 GMT -8
Post by The Major on Mar 6, 2014 11:45:27 GMT -8
Exhaling loudly, you could almost see a cloud of desperation fizzling from the Major's mouth -painting a darker picture that deep inside she was struggling with extreme difficulty to repress her tendencies while expressing the long forgotten favorable side of herself. A little confidence gives her another internal push, because her ego demanded that she could, would, always succeed no matter what she charged at.
"Fick. I did it again, Commodore. I still haven't answered your question, have I? Ugh, it's so much easier to talk at people rather than with them. Curious, this is proving to be a more prolonged stalemate than expected. Intrinsic psychopathy as a result of sociopathic mentality? Egoism? Tess, you are potentially risking your life. I've caused many to risk their lives at my request, and a percentage of them have perished as a result. I'm comfortable with subordinates following the orders outlined, and rewarding the survivors and operators due to merit. I will endeavor to continuously be open and not strafe around your questions, especially in regards to your well being. I will most likely lapse at times. Consider that I have to consciously remind myself to be this way. I would naturally not be so . . . outreaching.
"We're leaving now, and will be taking the walk at an easy pace. It's likely that we might be waiting at the conference room for some time. If it's any consolation, there should be a self service bar in the room. Moreover, I'd like to extend a promise to you. Should we live past this, for every hour we do it my way, we'll do it your way for a day. That is a 1:24 ratio."
The Fallanassi secured the knot of her tie, pulling it up and securing it just shy of tightness -she hated her neck feeling constricted. For most occasions she wore a black suit with a white button up and tie: basic, traditionally male, funeral attire. For today she switched it up ever so slightly by donning a snug, fitted midnight blue suit sporting a double breasted cut with side vents. The style tended to go with freakishly tall beings by making them appear more stout. Opting for a dash of color, she wears a pink blouse rather than the usual white. Silly to take note of, no doubt, but the contrasting colors weren't as stark and harsh as white on black. Stark and harsh needed to be the last thing on anyone's mind today.
Both scooping up her musket and futilely attempting to bring the huge spirals and flyaway hairs that tended to dominate the area in front of her face, the Major walks out of the room, hoping Tess was ready enough for what was to come.
Elsewhere, one nervous Chiss ambassador was more or less grateful for the token of ease between himself and Mr. Foyle. Besides the constant sting of cursing, the man appeared to be ruthlessly effective at his job. This, he could respect. Cheered slightly by hearing that "all clear" signal, the ambassador looks over his slate gray uniform and fixes invisible creases. His comlink beeps, and after listening in on it for a few minutes, the Chiss reports to the security consultant.
"Our leader is enroute to the Tower now. "
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Lord Sinistra
Retired High Councilor 
VE Human Capital Management & Talent Acquisition
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Saarlan
Mar 6, 2014 14:36:08 GMT -8
Post by Lord Sinistra on Mar 6, 2014 14:36:08 GMT -8
The ride down was silent, except for the various whirs and clicks of the shuttle's systems. Once they reached the approach for the resort town of Saarlan, Sinistra rose from her seat and looked over the tops of the pilot's seats, her eyes playing over the scenery. It was picturesque, reminding her heavily of a little town on Serenno she visited once a long time ago when she was looking for answers about her family and their lives. Satisfied by the view, she sat down until the landing gear contacted the landing pad with a thud and a slight bump. All in all, not a bad flight. She patted Captain Demarus on the shoulder and waited for the all clear from the Imperial Guards before the ramp opened wide to spill out its innards on the dirt of Shili.
Her eyes didn't miss much sweeping the area as she strolled over to where Gulliver was waiting with a Chiss official. Gulliver had the same look on his face as he did during the war, but not the portion where he was playing Go Fish with the subordinates. He was cool and collected, firing off a bark to move into escort position. Sinistra halted in front of Gulliver and the Chiss, her hands resting easily at her sides. Pleasantries and welcomes exchanged, the group began the walk to the hotel where the summit would be held, Sinistra leading Captain Aximand and Lord Diux who trailed just behind her, one to her left and one to her right. She didn't like the number of Imperial Guards that had surrounded her but she let it go. She was a newly minted ruler and she must get used to such formalities.
She hoped the room would have booze, she could use a drink right about now.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 6, 2014 15:38:23 GMT -8
"PRES-ent ARMS!"
The honor guard, already standing at attention, snapped their rifles in front of them in salute as their Emperor disembarked from the shuttle.
"ORDER ARMS!"
As one, the guard lowered their weapons, then assumed the low ready and fell into a diamond around Lord Sinistra and the others, presenting a solid wall of armored flesh between any potential attackers and their principal. Their job, in the even of an attack, was to die so that she and the others may live. Meanwhile, first platoon maintained a fifty meter bubble around the inner group, gently but firmly making sure that no one was allowed in the buffer zone. Designated marksmen scanned rooftops and windows, ensuring that there were no lurking snipers. They moved as one. Despite Gulliver's occasional cracks about them being a bunch of polished peacocks, the stormtroopers were the epitome of professional. Even the grizzled merc had no complaints.
Speaking of everyone's favorite slab of muscle and profanity, Gulliver had sent a speeder over to retrieve his gear from the shuttle he had landed in. He walked at the head of the diamond, and if the stormtroopers were the paradigm of anonymous professionalism, he was the textbook example of "Holy shit, did you see that guy!?" Starting at the head, he wore a helmet and wraparound sunglasses that featured a built in HUD. The glasses had several sophisticated sensors, and were constantly scanning the area for threats. Any that popped up would be highlighted, assessed, and promptly engaged by the either merc's massive M240B machine gun that he carried at the low ready, or by fire from the orbiting flagship. The 30 chunk of durasteel was normally fed from a two hundred round "nutsack" clipped to the side of the weapon, which held the ammo belt and would prevent kinks. Today, however, he opted for the backpack. Instead of a 200 round belt in a pouch, the backpack help 7500 rounds, all linked together. The contraption probably weighed more than the principal, but Gulliver barely seemed no notice. The belt was fed into the weapon by armored feed line, not unlike those used by door guns on aircraft.
In addition to the heavy-ass ammo pack, the behemoth wore his usual plate carrier vest, with front, back, and side ceramic plates that would take a hit from anything in the small arms department and come out smiling. As backup, he carried the PLR-68 pistol on his hip, and his 6.8mm rifle was slung across the top of the ammo pack.
In short, he was heavily armed, heavily armored, and therefore, sniper bait. Which was sort of the idea. A sniper might catch even a Dark Lord of the Sith unawares, but by presenting such an obvious target, any sniper worth his salt was going to go for him first. They almost had to, because failing to do so would end in certain death as 7.62mm bullets tore into their position. On top of that, the Emperor was on the short side, meaning that, with the wall of stormtroopers around her, you'd have to be almost directly overhead anyway to get a clean shot. So Gulliver was the obvious target, and on the off chance that they did manage to find somewhere not protected by kevlar or plates and killed his ass, there would be a very dangerous, very angry Sith to deal with, not to mention a platoon and a half of stormtroopers or whatever forces the Major had on QRF detail. It wasn't quite as good as an armored speeder in a convoy protected by tanks and fighters, but it would hopefully do the job.
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Tess/Tez Bola
Member
"...I've discounted suicide in favor of killing everyone else in the entire world instead."
Posts: 633
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Saarlan
Mar 6, 2014 20:42:34 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by Tess/Tez Bola on Mar 6, 2014 20:42:34 GMT -8
A nod of assent. The swish of doors. Cool crisp wind blowing through long locks. Saluting of soldiers. Tess followed Major as she led the way to the conference, exactly one step behind. Tess refrained from speaking, surveying the area through squinted eyes. The sun blared on the pair of women as they marched towards the Saldinger.
Tess felt much calmer now, oozing confidence because of the present company and the promise that the future held. If anything were to go wrong this afternoon, it wouldn't be because of her. There was much at stake, and there was no reason to antagonize or instigate anything. She would be the silent one, ever vigilant. Ready to defend, not hesitant to get her hands dirty.
They arrived at the preordained meeting spot, pausing at the front entrance. As the revolving door on the side made a listless revolution, Tess looked up at Major. She smiled earnestly and reached for her partner's hand. "Ready when you are."
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The Major
Member
Also known as Sailor Titan
Posts: 5,959
Affiliation: Fallanassi
Traffic Light: Blue
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Saarlan
Mar 7, 2014 8:57:05 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by The Major on Mar 7, 2014 8:57:05 GMT -8
Overall, as the Major drew closer and closer to the room that would one way or another change the lives of not only herself, but everyone that fell under her responsibility -those wardogs from Allgemeine, Reecee, Empress Teta, those old wardogs and freaks, those willing and smiling faces, each a nation, each independent, bonded by a little symbol that was either sown onto an armband, or engraved on their steel helmets, or part of the piping of their collars.
This was "Das Reich," the population of infinite loss, the angry, the hateful, the lovers of battle and lovers of strife. They were the absolute worst example of humanity, each defining their loyalty not through the lens of morality, but through self interest. They all, from lowest private, to lofty General, to the majors in between, and their friends, their kids, served only themselves. This was the thought cancer, the solipsistic bastards who killed and killed and killed and killed.
They were filled with love, ultimately. They were broken, ultimately. And even if the universe could never get it, even if they were simply an extension of Diva, spreading out the gospel of death by means of duty dance, magic bullets, trumpets, tanks, and bass, there would always be one more broken and angry human that had nothing but the will to express their darkest tendencies. Right now, as Tess reached out her hand, and the Major took it, grinned, and squeezed it before marching on ahead, Riplian could see it on display in front of her.
They would never stop. They would keep crawling through muck and shit, and they would murder those who were innocent, because no one was innocent. They would wage war and instigate conflict until they all lay ruined, guts shot, crying and wailing and sobbing -not because it hurts- because they gave and took, killed and were killed, and never meant a thing to anyone but their komrades, the sea of ghosts, the Remnant Army, the Springing Dead.
She hoped the Empire was ready for them.
The conference room was on the top floor, painted with soft hues of umber mixed in with cherrywood. A massive table made of red wood dominates the room, with ample seating in the form of leather chairs with tiny wheels on the bottom, and with ashtrays in front of every seat. The floor was also wooden, which was somewhat odd in these days. Two of the walls here where made up of floor to ceiling glass, which both offered a breathtaking view of Saarlan and its lake along with the setting Sun over the mountains to the west, their peaks glowing orange and amber. Along the only available wall was a self service bar. Closer inspection saw that nothing here was top shelf, only effective and higher proof alcohol. The Major takes her seat at one head of the table, laying her musket clearly in view directly to her right and well in her arms reach. She expected Tess to gravitate towards the bar, and thus became lost in a muse.
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Tess/Tez Bola
Member
"...I've discounted suicide in favor of killing everyone else in the entire world instead."
Posts: 633
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Saarlan
Mar 7, 2014 12:40:15 GMT -8
Post by Tess/Tez Bola on Mar 7, 2014 12:40:15 GMT -8
Silently, Tess crossed the room's threshold, drinking in the aerial view of her current home. She noticed Major's expression, imagining what she could be thinking of.
Instead of taking a seat, the position she decided to take was to stand behind Major at the head of the table.
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The Major
Member
Also known as Sailor Titan
Posts: 5,959
Affiliation: Fallanassi
Traffic Light: Blue
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Saarlan
Mar 7, 2014 13:01:20 GMT -8
via mobile
Post by The Major on Mar 7, 2014 13:01:20 GMT -8
"Willkommen in dieser verrückten Zeit, ey? So that's three hours on my time. You're racking up quite a segment."
It would appear that she was internally keeping track of her former statement, possibly intending to keep true to her promise. Murmuring thoughtfully, the Major places her elbows on top of the table while resting her chin upon her cupped knuckles.
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Lord Sinistra
Retired High Councilor
VE Human Capital Management & Talent Acquisition
Posts: 1,474
Affiliation: The Vegemite Enclave
Traffic Light: Green
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Saarlan
Mar 7, 2014 13:36:13 GMT -8
Post by Lord Sinistra on Mar 7, 2014 13:36:13 GMT -8
The walk was pleasant enough, the town curiously devoid of people but she was growing used to people being quarantined from her location for safety measures. She could see now that sneaking out with a cadre of guards like this was going to be impossible. She followed her merc, the click and clack of his armaments scraping against each other as he moved strangely comforting. Her eyes looked around for anything she could see but with the wall of guards around her, the diminutive Sith found that she could barely catch a glance of the surroundings, but she surmised that others would also have a hard time seeing her either.
The weather was pleasant and the walk was short. They arrived at the Saldinger, a lovely resort hotel with lush amenities judging from the well appointed lobby. She was ushered into an elevator, the ride up a few seconds. It was time. When the doors parted, a quick look out in the hall and the all clear was given. Sinistra stepped out, and headed for the conference room. Just across from the elevator bank, she paused while the doors were opened for her and her title was announced by the footman, so formally.
Sinistra merely stood in the doorway a second, taking in the scene. Major looked better than she had on Dressel, but damn, Sinistra had looked like bloody hell, being shot and all. The long crimson overcoat was a heavy brocade trimmed in silver and black, perfectly matched to a crimson silk blouse and black slacks. Her boots had a slight heel, polished to a mirror shine so glossy they could have passed for patent leather. She wore simple jewelry, nothing too flashy; a crystal hanging from a cord around her neck, a pair of rubies on her ears. Her hands were unadorned, no rings, no painted nails. Just ruthless ambition lay in those hands clasped in front of her as she smiled gently, that politician's smile she had perfected on Coruscant at boarding school and university.
"Major Shepardt, a pleasure to see you again. May I introduce Captain Logan Aximand, commander of my fleets at Kuat and vanguard of the Imperial Navy. And this is Lord Ramiel Diux, Master of Balmorra and a member of my Council of Lords."
Where their first meeting had an informal air and a relaxed demeanor on Sinistra's part, this time was as if there was a completely different person standing in front of the Major. She looked cold, determined and restrained, measured in her responses, with a sound that conveyed the weight of her convictions with the velvet edge of her mezzo voice. Major had met Sinistra on Dressel that was certain, but here and now, she was in the presence of the Emperor.
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