Was able to access an old harddrive and found this...Proof that TNO has always been kick-ass.
Moff Handler:
The Moff held both of his forearms close to his body. He could not shake the feeling that he was in danger-- even with his four Royal Guard Escorts. The fact that the assisnation attempt had happened in the public Bastion Courtyard did not comfort the moff any. Safety would never be with the Moff anymore. Shadows that lurked in corners would be cause to worry. Death threat mails would be taken seriously. The Investigation would not end until the bounty hunter and his employers were in Labor Camps on Belkadan.
The Assisination attempt was done professionally and quite well. But even the best Bounty Hunters made mistakes, sometimes minute, sometimes costly. An empty BlasTech Sharpshooter V Blaster Carbine was found on the stone rooftop from which the bounty hunter sniped. Sharpshooter Vs were a weapon commonly used by the Bothan SpyNet, a subsidary of New Republic Intelligence. The New Republic would pay dearly for attempting to kill Imperial Management.
Until the New Republic was disposed of, the galaxy would never be safe for Moff Handler or the New Order. The Royal Guard leading the Moff opened the stained glass doors to Bastion's Grand Senate Chamber.
The Moff followed quickly behind the Royal Guard. Aside from his escorts, the Moff was the only life inside the Grand Senate Chamber, but that was expected since he was three hours earlier for the Imperial Senatorial Address. The empty entrance hall way stretched to almost infinity and the ceilings seem to reach to the orbiting Imperial Class Star Destroyers that protected Bastion. Paintings from the golden age of the Empire lined the path to the Senate Chamber. The Paintings were deep, colorful portraits of the late Emperor Palpatine, Grand Moff Tarkin, Baron Soointer Fel, Ysanne Isard, and the twelve Grand Admirals of the Imperial Fleet. Dark Green tapestries stretched from the high ceilings to the floral decorations from the expanse of the once large Empire.
A set of maple doors baring the Imperial Insignia across the center were guarded by the haunting picture of Grand Admiral Thrawn and the Intelligence Director Iceheart. A pair of Kashyyyk Third-Level Plants were underneath the two pictures. The Obsidian Royal Guard leading the Moff pushed the two doors open, revealing the Moff's pentagon 'ready-room.'
Daemon Hyfe:
The large brown maple doors swung open, and a line of Royal Guards stepped through into the circular 'ready-room' of Moff Handler, barring the mans entrance. The guards filed off to the sides, allowing entrance to Handler only after they had determined that all was secure within the large sitting chamber.
High Admiral Daemon Hyfe, seated in a chic cloth chair, stood up at attention to great the Moff as he strode into the room. Hyfe was dressed in formal attire in his High Admiral’s uniform, rank bar clearly displayed, awards and medals, which were customary for such occasions, hanging over his right breast. Daemon was a tall man, and when compared to the slightly shorter-than-average Moff Handler approaching him, his presence seemed looming.
"Greetings, Moff Hanlder," Daemon offered with a curt nod. "I see you're taking extreme precautionary measures; and a good thing too. We can’t afford to be loosing our best... not to mention our only Moff, can we?" he said with an unusual smile.
The Moff nodded to his black-clad guards, signaling them to leave them be. They quickly filed out of the room, two guards taking up a post inside the chambers on either side of the door as the rest strode out, pulling the maple doors shut with a dull thump behind them.
"No, I suppose not, Admiral Hyfe," he looked back to the High Admiral. "But you know how much I hate it... and the fact that these things happen on Bastion, of all places! It seems you can never be too careful," the Moff replied, the whiskers above his upper lip contorting in a tired smile. Even now his aged eyes were searching, searching...
"I recieved your message this morning, aboard the Intrepid," Daemon said. "What's this meeting all about?"
Moff Handler:
Before sitting down in the cloth chair opposite the Admiral, the Moff pulled a flask of brandy from a draw under the table-top that seperated the Moff from the Admiral. He also procured two small eight ounce glasses.
Noticing a flicker of facial expressions on the Admiral the Moff spoke quickly, not knowing of the secret passion the Admiral held with alcholol. "It seems to be the only thing that soothes my worries these days." The Moff was on the verge of becoming a full blown alcholoic-- having atleast three drinks a day. He poured the brown liquid into the glasses and raised his in a slight toast. He mouthed the words 'For the Empire." Pushing his head back, he placed the glass on his lips and let the drink ooze into his mouth.
Setting the drink down on the table-top the Moff remembered his duty. "Admiral, the standard Imperial Senatorial Address as you know is today. All of the civilian leaders of the Empire will be present, especially that Lenth Quadrant Senator." The Moff raised his brow, showing his discontempt for the senator. "The Empire's enemy is weak at the hinges currently, but they still pose a threat to us as you know. We need to convince the Senate that the galaxy is in unrest aslong as the Republic breathes. I will be needing you to overlay the tactical situation in how we can procede. The Grand Admirals are away doing heavy reconnosciance, that is why I called you to present the Military view on war."
The Moff was a strong supporter of the heavy-military front that the late Emperor used. He had attended certain strategizing sessions with the Military Command. He was not supposed to attend these top-secret sessions for he was only a Civillian, but the command insisted they have the support of their strongest political tie.
Daemon Hyfe:
Sitting again in the ruby-colored fabric chair, High Admiral Hyfe listened intently to the Moff. Full-fledged war, Daemon though. Quite intriguing…
"This decision comes from the Regent?" Daemon asked.
"Ah… from the Regent, yes. But," Handler paused for a moment. "You see – Regent Exercon will be presiding over this Senatorial Address. The decision is his, and he’s already made it quite clear to me that this will be our course of action. We just need to prevent any unrest throughout the citizenry of the New Order."
"I see," Daemon responded, the bland look on his face betraying his contempt for politics. He brought the small glass of Corellian brandy to his lips, the rich cent of the liquor filling his nostrils as he took a small sip of the copper-colored alcohol. He let the smooth liquid pour into his mouth, holding it on his tongue for a moment before swallowing it down at once, causing a mild burning sensation in his throat. The High Admiral was not an alcoholic; not even an avid drinker. Yet he was a collector of alcoholic beverages, from vintage hard liquors to fine wines. And he always enjoyed the opportunity to sit and have a good drink.
Daemon set the small glass down upon the table separating the two men with a soft clank of glass-on-glass. Moff Handler refilled their glasses as the High Admiral peered around the tastefully decorated room.
The Moff's 'ready room' was an architectural masterpiece, curved ceiling and walls, held up by pillars placed in key locations. The roof slanted upwards from the entrance of the roughly 20-meter room, creating a strange effect whose purpose the High Admiral couldn't quite place. Large windows graced the far end of the room, allowing for a scenic view out into Bastions capital city, as the mid-morning sun poured into the chamber and washed out over the carpeted floor, bathing them with a soft glow. Mild textured draperies decorated some of the pillars and walls, creating even more of a serene atmosphere. There were various sculptures and art pieces scattered about, each of them calling for specific attention. Several of these art pieces were clearly tokens to the glory of the late Empire, of which the Moff was obviously quite proud.
Daemon returned his attention to Moff Handler as he offered him the re-filled glass, beginning to speak once more about how the events of this address were to proceed.
Moff Handler:
A shrill beep rang three times. The Moff glanced down at his chrono, a TimeX 3400. The diamond fingers of the clock read "12:00." Tapping the clear face of the gold-banded time-piece, the Moff rose from his chair.
"Admiral the dignitaries should be arriving soon. I must go show myself in these mundane rituals on behalf of Bastion and the New Order. You should attend also, the senators love to talk to war-heroes and put in their on views on the battle."
The Royal Guards began filtering out of the room. The pair followed after the lead guard gave the OK signal
Daemon Hyfe:
As the two followed the obsidian-clad Royal Guards into the magnificent grandeur of the Senate Chamber, Daemon noticed that honorary guards had begun taking up positions around the grand chamber. Through the stain glass doors to their left, Daemon could see senators and other officials beginning to gather outdoors.
As they headed towards the gathered dignitaries, with an escort of royal guards still surrounding them, Daemon leaned to the Moff and spoke softly, yet with his usual vibrant and penetrating voice: "Moff Handler, you’ll have to excuse me for a moment. I have some matters to take care of. I’ll return within the hour to greet these dignitaries."
"Of course, Admiral," Moff Handler replied.
Admiral Hyfe nodded, and broke of from their entourage, and hurried off to another exit where there was less crowding.
An hour later, Daemon Hyfe returned to the huge senate chamber. Dignitaries from different worlds around the galaxy had gathered, and were exchanging pleasantries in the Bastion courtyard outside the Senate Chamber.
A large fountain sculpted after the late Senator Palpatine spewed water from his outstretched fingertips, something symbolic, Admiral Hyfe was sure, but he didn’t quite grasp it’s meaning. Vast gardens stretched out for a kilometer on three sides, the fourth taken up by the huge architectural masterpiece of the Senate Chamber, it's gallant structure looking like some ancient coliseum.
Daemon spotted the figure of Moff Handler, and approached him. Several senators of various race were gathered around making small-talk. The Moff greeted Admiral Hyfe, and introduced him to the various dignitaries.
For the better part of an hour the two men moved about, greeting officials from different worlds, welcoming them to Bastion.
The Address would begin shortly, Daemon knew. At last they would be able to get down to business.
Moff Handler:
Wrapping one of his fatty arms around the Admirals shoudler, the Moff pressed his face close to the Admiral's here. He whispered, "It's always like this. I bet you are happy to be part of the military. These senators only care about getting re-elected next term. They do not give a flying wampa's ass about the military."
He released his arm from the admiral and let a jovial smile encroach his pudgy face. "Lord Gion, how nice it is to see you." the moff extended his hand to the Lenth Quadrant Senator. "I am so glad you could make the address." the moff tried to hide his negative favor of the senator.
"I am so sorry to hear about the attempt at your life. It was most discomforting." The senator returned the pleasentries, he too trying to hide his negative favor. "They never did find who did it, did they?" the senator smirked. The Moff indicated no with his head. "With the money we give them Security should have found out in less than an hour." Lord Gion smiled in approval of his slam to the Moff's political stance.
"If you'd excuse me, Lord Gion." The Moff walked away with the admiral at his side. Brass bells chimed eight times, indicating the dignitaries were to reconvine inside the senate chamber.
Daemon Hyfe:
Everyone made their way inside at a formidable pace, nothing like the military precision of Imperial officers, but quite orderly for a bunch of senators, Daemon decided.
Moff Handler and Admiral Hyfe walked together into the entrance hall of the Senate Chamber, it’s carpeted floors and exquisitely decorated walls welcoming all to the magnificence that the Empire had to offer. They continued down the long hall, it’s high ceilings and looming portraits creating a sense of marvel in all who entered.
And as if the immensity of the entrance hall weren’t enough, suddenly it opened up to the inconceivable glory of the Grand Senate Chamber.
Fleet Commander Zell:
Zell looked down to the chronometer on his wrist, he was running on time although he'd miss the pre-address gathering. Although that didn't bother him much, he had no great interest in Imperial Politicians. He walked closer to the large building where a pair of Imperial Royal Guards stood there ceremoniously with force-pikes in hand.
As Zell passed through the threshold of the building the Guards snapped into attention greeting the highest ranking military official of the New Order. Clothed in his white Imperial Officer's Ceremonial uniform Zell continued offering the pair a respective smile. He never understood those Royal Guards. They went through so much, trained so hard for the ideals of the New Order. They gave so much and got so little in return, they truly knew the meaning of honor.
Various people turned to meet Zell's lone arrival, Zell commanded a great deal of respect from people from all walks of life however he did it through the respect that he gave his men and his achievements through battle. He nodded to a couple of people who caught his eye on his way to the Grand Senate Chamber, smiling all the while he made his way to the place where Moff Handler would give his Address.
Moff Handler:
From atop the half-circle speaker's stage, the Moff rose from his deep backed emerald chair to greet the Imperial Grand Admiral. Extending his hand, "Greetings Grand Admiral Zell, Admiral Hyfe can fill you in while we await the Regent."
Zell smiled in return and sat down in the empty chair between the Moff and the High Admiral. Filling the acoustically designed speaking room, the trumpet rendition of the Imperial March gained momentum as it bounced from wall to wall into the senator's hears. The hundred or so heads of the Imperial Senate turned their heads as the march struck a deep, rich C note. The cedar-wood doors at the extreme end of the Chamber swung outward, towards the main body of the senate. Dressed in a royal purple, the able body of the Regent walked through the towering doors, the Elite Royal Guard leading. Wearing royal purple garb, the New Order's leader walked down the rift between the two Political Parties benches. The Regent's face was covered by a shaul that finished in an emerald turban ontop his head.
The loyal New Order citizens bowed their heads respectfully as the Regent passed and walked up the glazed marble steps. Beneath his silk mask, the Regent nodded at the two military figures. He reached his hand out and grabbed onto the Moff's and slowly sat down next to the Moff.
The Imperial March slowly stopped, and the hall became silent.
Daemon Hyfe:
The grandeur of the Imperial March faded away, the last traces of the theme echoing out into the furthest reaches of the mighty chamber.
Silenced enveloped them. Naught was to be heard the sound of an in-taken breath, nor the sniffle of some snide senator. All was deadly silent. The Regent of the New Order took his seat, slightly elevated above the others in his majestic royal throne. The four men; the Regent, Moff, Grand Admiral, and High Admiral, sat silently, eyes gazing out at the gathered dignitaries seated in the main body of the Grand Senate Chamber.
A sole Elite Royal Guard took up post slightly aback of the purple-clad regent. And with a short deliberate nod from the Regent, Moff Handler stood, hands clasped in front of him, eyes peering around the huge chamber. And so the Address began.
Moff Handler:
Looking at the magnificence of the chamber, the Moff estimated atleast four hundred loyal New Order citizens were seated in the benches opposing the stage. The Moff walked, or what would appear to be a scurry since the Moff was overweight, to the main platform-- a podium of cedar with the Imperial Crest displayed boldly. One of the Moff's pudgy hands extended to adjust the microphone to just below mouth level.
"Esteemed guests of honor, revered senators, and loyal citizens of the Empire: I am Sir Joseph Handler, Moff of the New Order-- assistant to the Lord Regent." The Moff paused and nodded to the Regent as an uproar of applause from the assembled body chorused through the acousticly designed chamber. The clapping died down, and the Moff continued with an extremely grave voice. "A danger far greater than any faced during the Emperors reign. The Rebellion is no longer a group of rogues committing guerilla warfare. They have established themselves as a power that must be dealt with. Just this week the Rebellion's spy net attempted to assissinate me. Our Cryptology Department has also found coded Rebellion transmissions containing large credit transferrs to members of the Bounty Hunter Guild. The Rebellion is still resorting to guerilla attacks, but this can only be because they are trying to weaken our fort before launching a full-scale onslaught."
There was a slight uproar of murming between contemporaries after this comment. "I shall hand this over to High Admiral Hyfe of the Armed Forces to show you the tactical situation we face. After the High Admiral speaks, the Grand Admiral will conclude with his own views on the situation, and then the Lord Regent will address the galaxy over the HoloNet." The citizens applauded as the Regent's title was mentioned.
The Moff stepped back from the podium and returned to his chair as the High Admiral took his place.
Daemon Hyfe:
The tall form of High Admiral Daemon Hyfe strode forwards from his richly textured seat, nodding solemnly to the Moff as he passed by. The Admiral's visage became clear to the gathered beings, as his enlarged form was displayed up above on the holo visual monitor; much like the ones at a shockball tournament.
He was clearly a tall man, hawk-faced, dark of skin and hair. His thin face held harsh angles warmed only by deep gray eyes, and his tailored formal military garments fit his body perfectly, accentuating his slim form. The Admiral seemed to carry a sense of command, a poised assurance, as though he saw and knew things all around him that were not visible to others.
As Daemon reached the podium, he appeared to be scanning the room with his deep gray eyes, a calculation in the glance that seemed to weigh everything in sight. All could easily sense the power in him, the impact of personality, as though he were of royal blood, born to command.
And yet, he looked frightened. Uncertain
Admiral Hyfe peered about as he cleared his throat, coming to his full height. At last he addressed the gathered citizens of the Empire.
"Greetings, loyal servants of the New Order," he didn't pause to allow any applause. "As Moff Handler has said, the Empire faces a great threat. At present, the New Republic's fleet rivals that of our own. The time has come to squelch out this pathetic would-be government."
"As civil war ensnares much of the known galaxy and small factions of varying sorts fight for power, the need for us to exhibit our true dominance is imperative. The time has come for us the wage battle... to wage war with our true enemy: the New Republic." He paused as questioning murmurs spread throughout the gathered dignitaries.
"While our forces may be equally balanced, our superiority in military command gives us the upper-hand," he continued boldly. "I will now hand it over to Grand Admiral Zell, commander of the Imperial Fleets, to tell you the specifics on how we shall unleash our wrath upon the wretched forces of the New Republic, and restore order to this galaxy once and for all!"
Applause engulfed the Grand Senate Chamber at the High Admirals last words. It continued as he stepped back, turning to head for his place at Moff Handlers side. The applause began to die off, and then erupted once again as Grand Admiral Zell headed for the podium.
Fleet Commander Zell:
Azrael Zell walked slowly to the podium, in just the short distance he managed to wave to the audience and flash his golden smile happily.
He walked up the stairs to the podium where Daemon Hyfe had just stood. "Thank you Admiral." He said as he paused for a couple of seconds to let the applause die down. "Welcome one and all, in these trying times it is imperative for us, the citizens of the New Order to stand strong and proud. Victory will be hard won but we will persist, and we will prevail." Again he paused as a thunderous roar of applause agreed with his words.
"During the battles to come it will be revealed that our own best friends have become our own worst enemies and that our worst enemies have risen as our greatest allies. I tell you this loyal citizens of the New Order, we will stand together through trying times, we will walk through victory hand in hand." Zell raised his arms high as he continued. "We will rise above the evil, the treachery, the false sense of security that the New Republic has given its ill-informed citizens. We will crush the hinges of the murderous Jedi Order from within. We will demolish the numerous so-called "Imperial Factions" that falsely rise up in the name of the glorious Emperor. Ladies and Gentlemen of the New Order... WE WILL PREVAIL!" Zell emphasized on the last words of his statement as he had to compete with the cheers and applause from the crowd.
He's purposefully made his speech nondescript. He'd basically run through what the long term plans of the New Order were. However he didn't give away any specific plans. He was an expert in motivating a crowd, perhaps it's what motivated his troops to victory. The promise of more, and in fact most times Azrael Zell delivered.
He stepped to the side of the podium and gave the audience a slight bow, soon the Regent himself would take the stage. Soon the New Order would realize the plans which Zell had only briefly mentioned.
Darth Exceron:
The Regent's lips remained clasped with a light layer of saliva entrenching each due to the flaring heat that had been exhibited that short summer day. It was the type of day one would regret having voted against the internal cooling systems due to the short summer climate timeframe Bastion received annually; 1 week to be precise. This, in turn, had caused the Regent to be significantly belligerent that day, obviously not the emotion one should have had to address one's people.
As he had observed the preceding, it reminded Exceron of the shear boredom that came when hearing bureaucrats speak such empty propaganda, and now it was his turn to repeat the same, but now to the entire galaxy. To rule with an iron fist came much easier to the Regent than wasting time with politics, which proved to be a mere genuine waste of time.
Politicians are not worshiped, warriors are.
Once Zell had taken his seat at the rear wall, a bewildering silence struck the crowd as if one were to abruptly activate a muting system. Every father, mother, child, and loner opened his or her eyelids as if each anticipated the rise of the savior...this was not far from the truth. Cringes of skin then began to rise from the crowds' foreheads as all attempted to take an eye-full of the Regent's majestic presence and aura.
Feeling that it was his time to make his blunt speech, Exceron rose from his chair, or throne of-sort, and allowed the crowd to exhale their customary gasps before he continued up the red-carpeted stairs to where the podium awaited. Just as he placed himself behind the large podium baring the Imperial crest, two Elite Royal Guards, showing the royal red-clad plate armor, took their place at either side of the Regent.
A current of static loudly beamed through the speakers as the Regent adjusted the microphone to his rather normal stature, while he broke the saliva seal which had covered the valley between his lips.
"Loyal subjects of the Empire, your time has come to prove your devotion to the divine cause!"
After pausing, the crowd's silence had been triumphantly broken with a barrage of cheers and chants for both the Regent and the Empire at large. Though Exceron was assured that each and every spectator would continue for hours if prompted to, the Regent was forced to cut them off short as he continued.
"We have come under verbal assault, targeting our dignity, for the last time! We have not fallen, nor wavered through it all...they believe that they have won our pride with mere words, and I call upon each and every one of you to prove to me that this is not so! Our vengeance will come not by cowardly means of words, but they shall endure a demonstration of the true power of the Empire! Where our predecessors have failed, we will triumph over all!"
"The galaxy...our galaxy...has been poisoned for centuries by The New Republic and its allies, and their ignorance has yet to be exploited and punished! They have killed our friends and families in their insolent resist of the old Empire, our savior...it is now our time to force retribution and atonement on those impudent beasts! Rise with me, brothers and sisters, for we will take back what we once had, and purge The New Republic of its treasures as they had done to us!"
An uproar of clapping, cheers, and chants hit the crowd with a millisecond's delay from the Regent's last word. The semi-bright lighting of the monolithic structure showed a glimmer in every spectator's eye from the truly inspirational speeches they had witnessed from every one of the speakers; all who had managed to unite the people into one entity and force.
As the Regent took his seat, the crowd's triumphant spectacle of cheers echoed through the structure with the same strength it had started with; truly a force to be reckoned with.
Daemon Hyfe:
And so with these powerful words from the most loyal servants of the New Order, peoples of all ages and races stood firmly behind their new cause.
The Regent's speech sped across the HoloNet at inconceivable speeds, gaining support from all the New Orders subjects.
Imperial banners were raised once again, displayed proudly in cities all over the worlds of the New Order. The Imperial March in all its glory rang out through the streets of Bastion, calling out for all to know that their Empire would indeed bring order upon this galaxy.
The Imperial Address was at an end. The High Admiral, Grand Admiral, Moff, and Regent returned to their duties. Ships were primed. Planning began. The Address was a success, and with golden wings the New Order’s reign would stretch across the reaches of the galaxy.
Moff Handler:
The Moff held both of his forearms close to his body. He could not shake the feeling that he was in danger-- even with his four Royal Guard Escorts. The fact that the assisnation attempt had happened in the public Bastion Courtyard did not comfort the moff any. Safety would never be with the Moff anymore. Shadows that lurked in corners would be cause to worry. Death threat mails would be taken seriously. The Investigation would not end until the bounty hunter and his employers were in Labor Camps on Belkadan.
The Assisination attempt was done professionally and quite well. But even the best Bounty Hunters made mistakes, sometimes minute, sometimes costly. An empty BlasTech Sharpshooter V Blaster Carbine was found on the stone rooftop from which the bounty hunter sniped. Sharpshooter Vs were a weapon commonly used by the Bothan SpyNet, a subsidary of New Republic Intelligence. The New Republic would pay dearly for attempting to kill Imperial Management.
Until the New Republic was disposed of, the galaxy would never be safe for Moff Handler or the New Order. The Royal Guard leading the Moff opened the stained glass doors to Bastion's Grand Senate Chamber.
The Moff followed quickly behind the Royal Guard. Aside from his escorts, the Moff was the only life inside the Grand Senate Chamber, but that was expected since he was three hours earlier for the Imperial Senatorial Address. The empty entrance hall way stretched to almost infinity and the ceilings seem to reach to the orbiting Imperial Class Star Destroyers that protected Bastion. Paintings from the golden age of the Empire lined the path to the Senate Chamber. The Paintings were deep, colorful portraits of the late Emperor Palpatine, Grand Moff Tarkin, Baron Soointer Fel, Ysanne Isard, and the twelve Grand Admirals of the Imperial Fleet. Dark Green tapestries stretched from the high ceilings to the floral decorations from the expanse of the once large Empire.
A set of maple doors baring the Imperial Insignia across the center were guarded by the haunting picture of Grand Admiral Thrawn and the Intelligence Director Iceheart. A pair of Kashyyyk Third-Level Plants were underneath the two pictures. The Obsidian Royal Guard leading the Moff pushed the two doors open, revealing the Moff's pentagon 'ready-room.'
Daemon Hyfe:
The large brown maple doors swung open, and a line of Royal Guards stepped through into the circular 'ready-room' of Moff Handler, barring the mans entrance. The guards filed off to the sides, allowing entrance to Handler only after they had determined that all was secure within the large sitting chamber.
High Admiral Daemon Hyfe, seated in a chic cloth chair, stood up at attention to great the Moff as he strode into the room. Hyfe was dressed in formal attire in his High Admiral’s uniform, rank bar clearly displayed, awards and medals, which were customary for such occasions, hanging over his right breast. Daemon was a tall man, and when compared to the slightly shorter-than-average Moff Handler approaching him, his presence seemed looming.
"Greetings, Moff Hanlder," Daemon offered with a curt nod. "I see you're taking extreme precautionary measures; and a good thing too. We can’t afford to be loosing our best... not to mention our only Moff, can we?" he said with an unusual smile.
The Moff nodded to his black-clad guards, signaling them to leave them be. They quickly filed out of the room, two guards taking up a post inside the chambers on either side of the door as the rest strode out, pulling the maple doors shut with a dull thump behind them.
"No, I suppose not, Admiral Hyfe," he looked back to the High Admiral. "But you know how much I hate it... and the fact that these things happen on Bastion, of all places! It seems you can never be too careful," the Moff replied, the whiskers above his upper lip contorting in a tired smile. Even now his aged eyes were searching, searching...
"I recieved your message this morning, aboard the Intrepid," Daemon said. "What's this meeting all about?"
Moff Handler:
Before sitting down in the cloth chair opposite the Admiral, the Moff pulled a flask of brandy from a draw under the table-top that seperated the Moff from the Admiral. He also procured two small eight ounce glasses.
Noticing a flicker of facial expressions on the Admiral the Moff spoke quickly, not knowing of the secret passion the Admiral held with alcholol. "It seems to be the only thing that soothes my worries these days." The Moff was on the verge of becoming a full blown alcholoic-- having atleast three drinks a day. He poured the brown liquid into the glasses and raised his in a slight toast. He mouthed the words 'For the Empire." Pushing his head back, he placed the glass on his lips and let the drink ooze into his mouth.
Setting the drink down on the table-top the Moff remembered his duty. "Admiral, the standard Imperial Senatorial Address as you know is today. All of the civilian leaders of the Empire will be present, especially that Lenth Quadrant Senator." The Moff raised his brow, showing his discontempt for the senator. "The Empire's enemy is weak at the hinges currently, but they still pose a threat to us as you know. We need to convince the Senate that the galaxy is in unrest aslong as the Republic breathes. I will be needing you to overlay the tactical situation in how we can procede. The Grand Admirals are away doing heavy reconnosciance, that is why I called you to present the Military view on war."
The Moff was a strong supporter of the heavy-military front that the late Emperor used. He had attended certain strategizing sessions with the Military Command. He was not supposed to attend these top-secret sessions for he was only a Civillian, but the command insisted they have the support of their strongest political tie.
Daemon Hyfe:
Sitting again in the ruby-colored fabric chair, High Admiral Hyfe listened intently to the Moff. Full-fledged war, Daemon though. Quite intriguing…
"This decision comes from the Regent?" Daemon asked.
"Ah… from the Regent, yes. But," Handler paused for a moment. "You see – Regent Exercon will be presiding over this Senatorial Address. The decision is his, and he’s already made it quite clear to me that this will be our course of action. We just need to prevent any unrest throughout the citizenry of the New Order."
"I see," Daemon responded, the bland look on his face betraying his contempt for politics. He brought the small glass of Corellian brandy to his lips, the rich cent of the liquor filling his nostrils as he took a small sip of the copper-colored alcohol. He let the smooth liquid pour into his mouth, holding it on his tongue for a moment before swallowing it down at once, causing a mild burning sensation in his throat. The High Admiral was not an alcoholic; not even an avid drinker. Yet he was a collector of alcoholic beverages, from vintage hard liquors to fine wines. And he always enjoyed the opportunity to sit and have a good drink.
Daemon set the small glass down upon the table separating the two men with a soft clank of glass-on-glass. Moff Handler refilled their glasses as the High Admiral peered around the tastefully decorated room.
The Moff's 'ready room' was an architectural masterpiece, curved ceiling and walls, held up by pillars placed in key locations. The roof slanted upwards from the entrance of the roughly 20-meter room, creating a strange effect whose purpose the High Admiral couldn't quite place. Large windows graced the far end of the room, allowing for a scenic view out into Bastions capital city, as the mid-morning sun poured into the chamber and washed out over the carpeted floor, bathing them with a soft glow. Mild textured draperies decorated some of the pillars and walls, creating even more of a serene atmosphere. There were various sculptures and art pieces scattered about, each of them calling for specific attention. Several of these art pieces were clearly tokens to the glory of the late Empire, of which the Moff was obviously quite proud.
Daemon returned his attention to Moff Handler as he offered him the re-filled glass, beginning to speak once more about how the events of this address were to proceed.
Moff Handler:
A shrill beep rang three times. The Moff glanced down at his chrono, a TimeX 3400. The diamond fingers of the clock read "12:00." Tapping the clear face of the gold-banded time-piece, the Moff rose from his chair.
"Admiral the dignitaries should be arriving soon. I must go show myself in these mundane rituals on behalf of Bastion and the New Order. You should attend also, the senators love to talk to war-heroes and put in their on views on the battle."
The Royal Guards began filtering out of the room. The pair followed after the lead guard gave the OK signal
Daemon Hyfe:
As the two followed the obsidian-clad Royal Guards into the magnificent grandeur of the Senate Chamber, Daemon noticed that honorary guards had begun taking up positions around the grand chamber. Through the stain glass doors to their left, Daemon could see senators and other officials beginning to gather outdoors.
As they headed towards the gathered dignitaries, with an escort of royal guards still surrounding them, Daemon leaned to the Moff and spoke softly, yet with his usual vibrant and penetrating voice: "Moff Handler, you’ll have to excuse me for a moment. I have some matters to take care of. I’ll return within the hour to greet these dignitaries."
"Of course, Admiral," Moff Handler replied.
Admiral Hyfe nodded, and broke of from their entourage, and hurried off to another exit where there was less crowding.
An hour later, Daemon Hyfe returned to the huge senate chamber. Dignitaries from different worlds around the galaxy had gathered, and were exchanging pleasantries in the Bastion courtyard outside the Senate Chamber.
A large fountain sculpted after the late Senator Palpatine spewed water from his outstretched fingertips, something symbolic, Admiral Hyfe was sure, but he didn’t quite grasp it’s meaning. Vast gardens stretched out for a kilometer on three sides, the fourth taken up by the huge architectural masterpiece of the Senate Chamber, it's gallant structure looking like some ancient coliseum.
Daemon spotted the figure of Moff Handler, and approached him. Several senators of various race were gathered around making small-talk. The Moff greeted Admiral Hyfe, and introduced him to the various dignitaries.
For the better part of an hour the two men moved about, greeting officials from different worlds, welcoming them to Bastion.
The Address would begin shortly, Daemon knew. At last they would be able to get down to business.
Moff Handler:
Wrapping one of his fatty arms around the Admirals shoudler, the Moff pressed his face close to the Admiral's here. He whispered, "It's always like this. I bet you are happy to be part of the military. These senators only care about getting re-elected next term. They do not give a flying wampa's ass about the military."
He released his arm from the admiral and let a jovial smile encroach his pudgy face. "Lord Gion, how nice it is to see you." the moff extended his hand to the Lenth Quadrant Senator. "I am so glad you could make the address." the moff tried to hide his negative favor of the senator.
"I am so sorry to hear about the attempt at your life. It was most discomforting." The senator returned the pleasentries, he too trying to hide his negative favor. "They never did find who did it, did they?" the senator smirked. The Moff indicated no with his head. "With the money we give them Security should have found out in less than an hour." Lord Gion smiled in approval of his slam to the Moff's political stance.
"If you'd excuse me, Lord Gion." The Moff walked away with the admiral at his side. Brass bells chimed eight times, indicating the dignitaries were to reconvine inside the senate chamber.
Daemon Hyfe:
Everyone made their way inside at a formidable pace, nothing like the military precision of Imperial officers, but quite orderly for a bunch of senators, Daemon decided.
Moff Handler and Admiral Hyfe walked together into the entrance hall of the Senate Chamber, it’s carpeted floors and exquisitely decorated walls welcoming all to the magnificence that the Empire had to offer. They continued down the long hall, it’s high ceilings and looming portraits creating a sense of marvel in all who entered.
And as if the immensity of the entrance hall weren’t enough, suddenly it opened up to the inconceivable glory of the Grand Senate Chamber.
Fleet Commander Zell:
Zell looked down to the chronometer on his wrist, he was running on time although he'd miss the pre-address gathering. Although that didn't bother him much, he had no great interest in Imperial Politicians. He walked closer to the large building where a pair of Imperial Royal Guards stood there ceremoniously with force-pikes in hand.
As Zell passed through the threshold of the building the Guards snapped into attention greeting the highest ranking military official of the New Order. Clothed in his white Imperial Officer's Ceremonial uniform Zell continued offering the pair a respective smile. He never understood those Royal Guards. They went through so much, trained so hard for the ideals of the New Order. They gave so much and got so little in return, they truly knew the meaning of honor.
Various people turned to meet Zell's lone arrival, Zell commanded a great deal of respect from people from all walks of life however he did it through the respect that he gave his men and his achievements through battle. He nodded to a couple of people who caught his eye on his way to the Grand Senate Chamber, smiling all the while he made his way to the place where Moff Handler would give his Address.
Moff Handler:
From atop the half-circle speaker's stage, the Moff rose from his deep backed emerald chair to greet the Imperial Grand Admiral. Extending his hand, "Greetings Grand Admiral Zell, Admiral Hyfe can fill you in while we await the Regent."
Zell smiled in return and sat down in the empty chair between the Moff and the High Admiral. Filling the acoustically designed speaking room, the trumpet rendition of the Imperial March gained momentum as it bounced from wall to wall into the senator's hears. The hundred or so heads of the Imperial Senate turned their heads as the march struck a deep, rich C note. The cedar-wood doors at the extreme end of the Chamber swung outward, towards the main body of the senate. Dressed in a royal purple, the able body of the Regent walked through the towering doors, the Elite Royal Guard leading. Wearing royal purple garb, the New Order's leader walked down the rift between the two Political Parties benches. The Regent's face was covered by a shaul that finished in an emerald turban ontop his head.
The loyal New Order citizens bowed their heads respectfully as the Regent passed and walked up the glazed marble steps. Beneath his silk mask, the Regent nodded at the two military figures. He reached his hand out and grabbed onto the Moff's and slowly sat down next to the Moff.
The Imperial March slowly stopped, and the hall became silent.
Daemon Hyfe:
The grandeur of the Imperial March faded away, the last traces of the theme echoing out into the furthest reaches of the mighty chamber.
Silenced enveloped them. Naught was to be heard the sound of an in-taken breath, nor the sniffle of some snide senator. All was deadly silent. The Regent of the New Order took his seat, slightly elevated above the others in his majestic royal throne. The four men; the Regent, Moff, Grand Admiral, and High Admiral, sat silently, eyes gazing out at the gathered dignitaries seated in the main body of the Grand Senate Chamber.
A sole Elite Royal Guard took up post slightly aback of the purple-clad regent. And with a short deliberate nod from the Regent, Moff Handler stood, hands clasped in front of him, eyes peering around the huge chamber. And so the Address began.
Moff Handler:
Looking at the magnificence of the chamber, the Moff estimated atleast four hundred loyal New Order citizens were seated in the benches opposing the stage. The Moff walked, or what would appear to be a scurry since the Moff was overweight, to the main platform-- a podium of cedar with the Imperial Crest displayed boldly. One of the Moff's pudgy hands extended to adjust the microphone to just below mouth level.
"Esteemed guests of honor, revered senators, and loyal citizens of the Empire: I am Sir Joseph Handler, Moff of the New Order-- assistant to the Lord Regent." The Moff paused and nodded to the Regent as an uproar of applause from the assembled body chorused through the acousticly designed chamber. The clapping died down, and the Moff continued with an extremely grave voice. "A danger far greater than any faced during the Emperors reign. The Rebellion is no longer a group of rogues committing guerilla warfare. They have established themselves as a power that must be dealt with. Just this week the Rebellion's spy net attempted to assissinate me. Our Cryptology Department has also found coded Rebellion transmissions containing large credit transferrs to members of the Bounty Hunter Guild. The Rebellion is still resorting to guerilla attacks, but this can only be because they are trying to weaken our fort before launching a full-scale onslaught."
There was a slight uproar of murming between contemporaries after this comment. "I shall hand this over to High Admiral Hyfe of the Armed Forces to show you the tactical situation we face. After the High Admiral speaks, the Grand Admiral will conclude with his own views on the situation, and then the Lord Regent will address the galaxy over the HoloNet." The citizens applauded as the Regent's title was mentioned.
The Moff stepped back from the podium and returned to his chair as the High Admiral took his place.
Daemon Hyfe:
The tall form of High Admiral Daemon Hyfe strode forwards from his richly textured seat, nodding solemnly to the Moff as he passed by. The Admiral's visage became clear to the gathered beings, as his enlarged form was displayed up above on the holo visual monitor; much like the ones at a shockball tournament.
He was clearly a tall man, hawk-faced, dark of skin and hair. His thin face held harsh angles warmed only by deep gray eyes, and his tailored formal military garments fit his body perfectly, accentuating his slim form. The Admiral seemed to carry a sense of command, a poised assurance, as though he saw and knew things all around him that were not visible to others.
As Daemon reached the podium, he appeared to be scanning the room with his deep gray eyes, a calculation in the glance that seemed to weigh everything in sight. All could easily sense the power in him, the impact of personality, as though he were of royal blood, born to command.
And yet, he looked frightened. Uncertain
Admiral Hyfe peered about as he cleared his throat, coming to his full height. At last he addressed the gathered citizens of the Empire.
"Greetings, loyal servants of the New Order," he didn't pause to allow any applause. "As Moff Handler has said, the Empire faces a great threat. At present, the New Republic's fleet rivals that of our own. The time has come to squelch out this pathetic would-be government."
"As civil war ensnares much of the known galaxy and small factions of varying sorts fight for power, the need for us to exhibit our true dominance is imperative. The time has come for us the wage battle... to wage war with our true enemy: the New Republic." He paused as questioning murmurs spread throughout the gathered dignitaries.
"While our forces may be equally balanced, our superiority in military command gives us the upper-hand," he continued boldly. "I will now hand it over to Grand Admiral Zell, commander of the Imperial Fleets, to tell you the specifics on how we shall unleash our wrath upon the wretched forces of the New Republic, and restore order to this galaxy once and for all!"
Applause engulfed the Grand Senate Chamber at the High Admirals last words. It continued as he stepped back, turning to head for his place at Moff Handlers side. The applause began to die off, and then erupted once again as Grand Admiral Zell headed for the podium.
Fleet Commander Zell:
Azrael Zell walked slowly to the podium, in just the short distance he managed to wave to the audience and flash his golden smile happily.
He walked up the stairs to the podium where Daemon Hyfe had just stood. "Thank you Admiral." He said as he paused for a couple of seconds to let the applause die down. "Welcome one and all, in these trying times it is imperative for us, the citizens of the New Order to stand strong and proud. Victory will be hard won but we will persist, and we will prevail." Again he paused as a thunderous roar of applause agreed with his words.
"During the battles to come it will be revealed that our own best friends have become our own worst enemies and that our worst enemies have risen as our greatest allies. I tell you this loyal citizens of the New Order, we will stand together through trying times, we will walk through victory hand in hand." Zell raised his arms high as he continued. "We will rise above the evil, the treachery, the false sense of security that the New Republic has given its ill-informed citizens. We will crush the hinges of the murderous Jedi Order from within. We will demolish the numerous so-called "Imperial Factions" that falsely rise up in the name of the glorious Emperor. Ladies and Gentlemen of the New Order... WE WILL PREVAIL!" Zell emphasized on the last words of his statement as he had to compete with the cheers and applause from the crowd.
He's purposefully made his speech nondescript. He'd basically run through what the long term plans of the New Order were. However he didn't give away any specific plans. He was an expert in motivating a crowd, perhaps it's what motivated his troops to victory. The promise of more, and in fact most times Azrael Zell delivered.
He stepped to the side of the podium and gave the audience a slight bow, soon the Regent himself would take the stage. Soon the New Order would realize the plans which Zell had only briefly mentioned.
Darth Exceron:
The Regent's lips remained clasped with a light layer of saliva entrenching each due to the flaring heat that had been exhibited that short summer day. It was the type of day one would regret having voted against the internal cooling systems due to the short summer climate timeframe Bastion received annually; 1 week to be precise. This, in turn, had caused the Regent to be significantly belligerent that day, obviously not the emotion one should have had to address one's people.
As he had observed the preceding, it reminded Exceron of the shear boredom that came when hearing bureaucrats speak such empty propaganda, and now it was his turn to repeat the same, but now to the entire galaxy. To rule with an iron fist came much easier to the Regent than wasting time with politics, which proved to be a mere genuine waste of time.
Politicians are not worshiped, warriors are.
Once Zell had taken his seat at the rear wall, a bewildering silence struck the crowd as if one were to abruptly activate a muting system. Every father, mother, child, and loner opened his or her eyelids as if each anticipated the rise of the savior...this was not far from the truth. Cringes of skin then began to rise from the crowds' foreheads as all attempted to take an eye-full of the Regent's majestic presence and aura.
Feeling that it was his time to make his blunt speech, Exceron rose from his chair, or throne of-sort, and allowed the crowd to exhale their customary gasps before he continued up the red-carpeted stairs to where the podium awaited. Just as he placed himself behind the large podium baring the Imperial crest, two Elite Royal Guards, showing the royal red-clad plate armor, took their place at either side of the Regent.
A current of static loudly beamed through the speakers as the Regent adjusted the microphone to his rather normal stature, while he broke the saliva seal which had covered the valley between his lips.
"Loyal subjects of the Empire, your time has come to prove your devotion to the divine cause!"
After pausing, the crowd's silence had been triumphantly broken with a barrage of cheers and chants for both the Regent and the Empire at large. Though Exceron was assured that each and every spectator would continue for hours if prompted to, the Regent was forced to cut them off short as he continued.
"We have come under verbal assault, targeting our dignity, for the last time! We have not fallen, nor wavered through it all...they believe that they have won our pride with mere words, and I call upon each and every one of you to prove to me that this is not so! Our vengeance will come not by cowardly means of words, but they shall endure a demonstration of the true power of the Empire! Where our predecessors have failed, we will triumph over all!"
"The galaxy...our galaxy...has been poisoned for centuries by The New Republic and its allies, and their ignorance has yet to be exploited and punished! They have killed our friends and families in their insolent resist of the old Empire, our savior...it is now our time to force retribution and atonement on those impudent beasts! Rise with me, brothers and sisters, for we will take back what we once had, and purge The New Republic of its treasures as they had done to us!"
An uproar of clapping, cheers, and chants hit the crowd with a millisecond's delay from the Regent's last word. The semi-bright lighting of the monolithic structure showed a glimmer in every spectator's eye from the truly inspirational speeches they had witnessed from every one of the speakers; all who had managed to unite the people into one entity and force.
As the Regent took his seat, the crowd's triumphant spectacle of cheers echoed through the structure with the same strength it had started with; truly a force to be reckoned with.
Daemon Hyfe:
And so with these powerful words from the most loyal servants of the New Order, peoples of all ages and races stood firmly behind their new cause.
The Regent's speech sped across the HoloNet at inconceivable speeds, gaining support from all the New Orders subjects.
Imperial banners were raised once again, displayed proudly in cities all over the worlds of the New Order. The Imperial March in all its glory rang out through the streets of Bastion, calling out for all to know that their Empire would indeed bring order upon this galaxy.
The Imperial Address was at an end. The High Admiral, Grand Admiral, Moff, and Regent returned to their duties. Ships were primed. Planning began. The Address was a success, and with golden wings the New Order’s reign would stretch across the reaches of the galaxy.
T H E E N D