The Emperor's Suite

Reaching behind his right ear, Nem scratched with one long finger at a patch of skin behind the lobe, triggering the ooglith masquers reflex. Starting at the back of his head and splitting down the center of his scalp, the layer of second skin pulled apart and peeled off the Intendant's face, revealing the Yuuzhan Vong features underneath. Now, with corpse grey skin and glowing green mqaaq'it, the Executor regarded the displayed hologram with interest. His ocular implants captured and recorded what they viewed, storing the information in a chilab biot that had been inserted into his brain through his sinus cavity. He stroked at his scarred chin, considering the displayed planet before him.

"Shili, yes, I am familiar with the world." Casually he slipped a hand into the folds of his merchant attire and retrieved his personal qahsa device, essentially a hand held organic computer that operated in the same capacity as an infidel data-pad or chiss questis. He tapped a few fingers upon the display and brought up the Praetorite's information on the planet. "Home to the togruta people, a tribal race that have found a way to live harmoniously with the planet. Grasslands, forests, a great deal of water. Unblemished by industry."

The last part mentioned was perhaps the most important. He still couldn't quite fathom the extent to which certain species and cultures throughout the galaxy had plundered and exploited the natural resources of their own worlds, leaving polluted wrecks in place of former ecological paradises. Perhaps that was the trade off for using mechanical inorganic technology. Nem had first hand experience with the impressive feats that such technology was capable of, but he could never countenance the cost, not after what he had lived through. Seeing his own galaxy destroyed was enough to make him never wish to visit such irreversible damage upon another, even if those incurring said damage were willingly committing it upon themselves. All that aside, the fact that Shili possessed such natural splendor made it extremely ideal for the Yuuzhan Vong's base of operations within the First Order. They'd be able to grow and operate biots there without issue, and trouble with the locals seemed highly unlikely with what he knew about the Togruta.

Opening the lapel of his merchant's attire, he slid the qahsa back into the robe and nodded his agreement. The dark purple eye sacs beneath his luminous eyes bulged slightly, echoing his approval even as he voiced it aloud.

"I agree, Shili would be most suitable. We wouldn't require more than a few dozen square kilometers, so long as there is adequate access to fresh water. Most of our bio-tech requires it to some degree, which is why we tend to place our damuteks and organic structures close to running water sources such as lakes and rivers, though we are capable of desalination when it is required." He folded his hands behind his back and looked away from the holo-projection, staring back at the Emperor. "When not in operation, the Praetorite's fleet could provide additional protection for the planet and any other nearby First Order worlds. Plus with the available tracks of land we could grow our biots locally rather than relying on traveling to the Unknown Regions to replenish our supplies. I see nothing but positives thus far, your grace."

At the mention of Ilum his thoughts turned towards a certain Grand Moff. His visit to the crystal caves had been very insightful. Jenia Kasalle had proven herself a remarkable woman with a keen mind and a fierce demeanor. She would have made an excellent member of the warrior caste if she had been born a Yuuzhan Vong. Even if Nem's experience with the infidel races hadn't biased his opinion towards them, he was certain he still would have liked her and would have been as equally weary of crossing her. It was one of the main reasons he had pursued these relations with the First Order all the way to Coruscant at the heart of lesser space. With an ally like that, especially so close to Zonama Sekot, he was confident in the security and continued prosperity of his people.

His eye sacks puffed as his mqaaq'it changed hue to a pleasant blue. "Ilum? Perhaps..." He said casually, not wanting to sound too eager.

The real icing on the cake was the title the Emperor offered him. That was one of the main things he sought. It wouldn't do to simply align the Yuuzhan Vong with the First Order. Field Marshal Nytherias Nuruodo of the Sword and Shield Dominion had offered him so solid advice in that regard. Alliances were fickle things, temporary and prone to dissolving when one party no longer saw the benefit. If the First Order were to one day seek to make an ally of Mandalorian Clan Australis, for instance, then it was possible it would be in their benefit to offer the Praetorite up as a sacrifice in exchange for such a partnership. But if they were more than just another ally, rather a full fledged member with an integral part to play within the ranks of the First Order, it would make that scenario that much more unlikely. They'd have to prove their use first, but with the title and the responsibilities to follow, the Executor was certain those pieces of the puzzle would soon fall into place.

Unfolding his hands from behind his back, he placed them on the Emperor's desk and leaned forwards, staring through the holographic display at the man behind it.

"That's more than fair, your majesty. I pledge my loyalty to the First Order, and to you...my Emperor." It felt an odd thing to say, but not necessarily wrong. His domain had sworn an oath to kill anyone who claimed the title of Supreme Overlord, but this wasn't that, not at all. This was the first step towards redemption and an even greater step towards prosperity for his people. "I swear it on the honour of Domain Yin."

Leaning back, he examined the holographic display again, pondering the offer of assistance from Imperial Intelligence. He understood the need for caution, but eventually the rest of the galaxy would find out about their involvement in the First Order. It was better if they started off by proving their capabilities without the need for help.

"I'll start making arrangements for the journey to Shili once we've concluded here. I don't think we'll require any additional aid. We have...means, of diverting attention from ourselves. The locals won't be aware of us unless we find it beneficial."

Given the humanoid shape of the species that inhabited the planet, having the shapers whip up a togruta-version of an ooglith masquer should be relatively simple. Then it would just be a matter of infiltrating the tribes and discouraging them from traveling too close to the plot of land where they would be establishing their outpost. They were already doing the same thing with the Rakata on Lehon.

Exhausted as he was from a sleepless night attempting to revive the Emperor, Brock bristled at being given orders by Baltasar and it took all of his training and control to remind himself that now was not the time for disharmony, no matter how his half-brother and he felt about each other. In a moment his face returned to a neutral position, though he struggled to maintain it as the Grand Marshal struggled to refer to his son with anything but distain. He very carefully kept emotion out of his voice as he replied. "My Son..." Even his control couldn't keep the emphasis on the relation out of his voice. "...left orbit with the Veers shortly after the Emperor's collapse. Two Companies of the 501st as well as a company of the Bastard Brigade joined him to augment his own soldiers. They should be arriving shortly to pick up our nephew." It was a measure of his strained mental state that he used the nickname his own soldier's had given to themselves to nettle Baltasar further, since he knew the man disliked the name. His more subtle reminder that Octavian was just as much his nephew as he was Baltasar's was more on brand, though heavier handed than he usually would be with Baltasar. The two brothers had never gotten along particularly well, however they had over the years generally danced a verbal dance that kept things civil. The Imperial Knight assumed that the Grand Marshal would be annoyed at having the orders sent before he had spoken them, but it was technically within Brock's authority, if only just barely.

Strange as it is to feel something akin to gratitude for a task so grim, Faina finds herself almost grateful all the same that the singular focus, taxing effort and concentration required for her to sustain her ailing, beloved spouse leaves her almost free from the whirlwind of emotions and demands of duty and family that she knows all wait patiently to assail her once her efforts, and those of science and medicine inevitably fail and Nicademus succumbs at last to the mysterious ailment that has left him comatose.

Dimly aware that she can sense Fiora and Octavian nearby, summoned no doubt by Baltasar, Faina briefly considers abandoning her trance-like state to see them, but she finds herself unable, unwilling to leave Nicademus' side, to cease her efforts to use the Force to sustain the tiny, weak, guttering candle-flame that his life has been diminished to. Like a candle that has burned so bright and long that all that remains is a bit of wick in a diminishing pool of wax, the flame cannot last much longer, but Faina will shelter and nurse the flame so long as she can. Faina has no answers for the questions Fiora and Octavian must have, and, more, fears that when Nicademus has gone into the dark she cannot follow him into that she will have nothing to offer them, or her younger children, Yvaine and Remus, in the way of comfort or guidance; how, she wonders, will she be able to give them anything at all when grief and loss are assuredly waiting to claim her, when there is nothing left of her to give anything to anyone?

Faina's brow furrows for a moment as she feels her thoughts and fears threatening to force themselves further to the fore, but soon smooths out once more as she sinks deeper into the meditative trance needed to sustain Nicademus, to keep him from slipping from his coma into the death waiting patiently for the tiny flame of his life to flicker out.

She understood well why his overall condition had been kept from them. Their father was indeed a stubborn man and constantly putting on a brave face and show for everyone. That visage had once been far less present when they were younger, but it had grown stronger as they grew up. There had been moments where they had cracked through to their father's true face beneath it all. But he had a bad habit of not always relaxing around anyone.

It was not that transgression that she was upset about. He was their Emperor, and an oath of silence to him meant a great deal. No, it was not that by any means
Our Father has always held his secrets, his health certainly highest among them. But our Father has been in a coma for several days, while we were left in the dark. Our Father may have held their silence while awake, but they chose to keep it afterwards...
Her frustration was not bound to evaporate soon, but it simmered a little less as she watched her twin. He had spent more time close to their Father over the last few years, even being prepared to assume the Throne after their Father was gone. But he was blind to the threads of time and suffered the uncertainty of the future as many others did. She had matured to accept what was to come next, and more often than not she was powerless to stop or change it.

She took a couple steps forward and reached out her right hand and gently gripped his bicep. With her left hand, she disengaged the locking mechanism of her helmet and lifted it clear of her head. Her deep red hair tumbled free of the confines of the helmet down across her back, her face unobstructed now as she stared at Octavian
I don't expect you to understand Octavian, after all you've spent years by his side as you learned to take the throne and trained to become an Imperial Knight... I did not get that... I don't regret my path, but I do not wish to be robbed of what time is left... I... I'm sorry...
She gave his arm a gentle squeeze