Fondor
A year ago the glass on the door had read something different, some corporate executive name, probably a high up CEO or minister of finance. A year ago Tarn had seen the name, and he tried to remember what it was.
Not that it mattered, it was a simple exercise of memory. Tarn shrugged. It was painted over now with a kind of black paint, reading:
Desiring to get the meeting over with as quickly as possible, Tarn rapped his knuckles against the door a couple times, waiting for a response. Moments later he received it.
"Come in," he heard, and Tarn pushed open the door with little effort. The aged Admiral Karr was sitting behind his desk as usual, cigarra between his fingers, shifting through page after page of durasheets. "Take a seat," he said without even looking up.
He wore his stress as easily as he wore the uniform on his body, and the smile he offered Tarn did little to masquer it.
"You summoned me sir?" he asked, a bit of worry creeping into his tone. The commander of Naval Intelligence doesn't just summon up very Tom, Dick, and Larry to his office...
"Yes I did," the admiral responded, tucking his cigarra between his lips. He seemed to get distracted again, going back to shifting through the durasheets on his desk.
Tarn tilted his head. For commander of Naval Intelligence he sure is disorganized.
Karr finally seemed to find what he was looking for and plucked it from the piles on his desk, handing it across to Tarn. The commander plucked it from his grasp and stared down at it, reading over it carefully.
"The Dark Circle?" Tarn asked in confusion. He'd heard some reports about Dark Circle bands launching assaults against outlying systems, taking women and children as slaves and murdering all the men, but he'd heard nothing beyond those typical pirate rumors.
They were definitely grossly exaggerated and he paid little heed to them.
"Yes," Karr said, finally letting the stress remove itself from his system. He sat back in his chair, inhaling the smoke from the cigarra and holding it between his fingers again. "Supreme Marshall Shadowlurker requested you specifically for that operation."
"Me?" Tarn asked in a moment of disbelief. He blinked several times and looked up at the old admiral.
"Aye," Karr said, as though that should explain everything.
"Is he displeased with my work?"
"Quite the contrary, that's why he's trusting this operation to you."
Tarn construed his face in an expression of confusion. Then why is he sending me to a slave cult that is mentioned only by smugglers and pirates?
"He's sending you because he trusts you. This is a delicate operation," the admiral said, as though reading Tarn's mind.
"We don't even know if the Dark Circle really exists sir," Tarn protested. "We only have the words of scum to go on about it."
The admiral smirked like a little child withholding some big secret from his parents.
"Oh no...it exists Commander," he explained, "and they are a bit more than a slave cult. Their leader is a genious, he's never lost a battle except to Sovereign-Elect Jiren, who even had a superior force. He managed to salvage what he could, but one must remember that he was on the ground when he did so."
"Interesting...sounds like a Chiss," Tarn mused.
"He is."
The younger commander blinked several times. A Chiss? A Chiss who used the Force? This sounds less than desireable.
"The situation is very delicate, and Shadowlurker wants absolute perfection on it. After your little stunt at Corellia-,"
"Sir I can explain," Tarn protested, but the admiral continued.
"-he wants to see how you can handle in a truly stressful situation. He's promoting you to line captain and putting you in charge of the Black Sword Task Force. If you can prove you've got what it takes I expect great things coming from you Captain Deseele."
Tarn found himself at a loss for words. He had actually expected to be reprimanded for his stunt at Corellia, where he had chased down Warlord T'Quve onto Centerpoint and from there personally led a pair of Strike Cruisers down to eradicate him.
In one fiery explosion he had molested the whole of the warlord's already splintering faction, but had caused severe collateral damage.
And now here he was, being promoted for it.
"Where exactly am I going?" Tarn asked.
Admiral Karr shrugged. "No one knows, reports speculate it's some place called Gahgrin, but I've never heard of it, I would advise checking Bonaden and Onderon, they were hit the hardest by these slave raiders."
Tarn nodded and rose, offering a salute. "Yes sir."
"For the Empire," Karr responded, raising his hand to return the gesture. "You're dismissed."
A year ago the glass on the door had read something different, some corporate executive name, probably a high up CEO or minister of finance. A year ago Tarn had seen the name, and he tried to remember what it was.
Not that it mattered, it was a simple exercise of memory. Tarn shrugged. It was painted over now with a kind of black paint, reading:
<font face=courier>Vice Admiral Telek Karr
Commander of Imperial Naval Intelligence
Vanguard Fleet
</font>Commander of Imperial Naval Intelligence
Vanguard Fleet
Desiring to get the meeting over with as quickly as possible, Tarn rapped his knuckles against the door a couple times, waiting for a response. Moments later he received it.
"Come in," he heard, and Tarn pushed open the door with little effort. The aged Admiral Karr was sitting behind his desk as usual, cigarra between his fingers, shifting through page after page of durasheets. "Take a seat," he said without even looking up.
He wore his stress as easily as he wore the uniform on his body, and the smile he offered Tarn did little to masquer it.
"You summoned me sir?" he asked, a bit of worry creeping into his tone. The commander of Naval Intelligence doesn't just summon up very Tom, Dick, and Larry to his office...
"Yes I did," the admiral responded, tucking his cigarra between his lips. He seemed to get distracted again, going back to shifting through the durasheets on his desk.
Tarn tilted his head. For commander of Naval Intelligence he sure is disorganized.
Karr finally seemed to find what he was looking for and plucked it from the piles on his desk, handing it across to Tarn. The commander plucked it from his grasp and stared down at it, reading over it carefully.
<font face=helvetica>Operation: Dark Canon
Objective: Diplomatic Association and Potential Nationalization of the cult "The Dark Circle"
Protagonists: Lord Velil X'Cannoth, Sir Donovin
Timeframe: Two Weeks</font>
Objective: Diplomatic Association and Potential Nationalization of the cult "The Dark Circle"
Protagonists: Lord Velil X'Cannoth, Sir Donovin
Timeframe: Two Weeks</font>
"The Dark Circle?" Tarn asked in confusion. He'd heard some reports about Dark Circle bands launching assaults against outlying systems, taking women and children as slaves and murdering all the men, but he'd heard nothing beyond those typical pirate rumors.
They were definitely grossly exaggerated and he paid little heed to them.
"Yes," Karr said, finally letting the stress remove itself from his system. He sat back in his chair, inhaling the smoke from the cigarra and holding it between his fingers again. "Supreme Marshall Shadowlurker requested you specifically for that operation."
"Me?" Tarn asked in a moment of disbelief. He blinked several times and looked up at the old admiral.
"Aye," Karr said, as though that should explain everything.
"Is he displeased with my work?"
"Quite the contrary, that's why he's trusting this operation to you."
Tarn construed his face in an expression of confusion. Then why is he sending me to a slave cult that is mentioned only by smugglers and pirates?
"He's sending you because he trusts you. This is a delicate operation," the admiral said, as though reading Tarn's mind.
"We don't even know if the Dark Circle really exists sir," Tarn protested. "We only have the words of scum to go on about it."
The admiral smirked like a little child withholding some big secret from his parents.
"Oh no...it exists Commander," he explained, "and they are a bit more than a slave cult. Their leader is a genious, he's never lost a battle except to Sovereign-Elect Jiren, who even had a superior force. He managed to salvage what he could, but one must remember that he was on the ground when he did so."
"Interesting...sounds like a Chiss," Tarn mused.
"He is."
The younger commander blinked several times. A Chiss? A Chiss who used the Force? This sounds less than desireable.
"The situation is very delicate, and Shadowlurker wants absolute perfection on it. After your little stunt at Corellia-,"
"Sir I can explain," Tarn protested, but the admiral continued.
"-he wants to see how you can handle in a truly stressful situation. He's promoting you to line captain and putting you in charge of the Black Sword Task Force. If you can prove you've got what it takes I expect great things coming from you Captain Deseele."
Tarn found himself at a loss for words. He had actually expected to be reprimanded for his stunt at Corellia, where he had chased down Warlord T'Quve onto Centerpoint and from there personally led a pair of Strike Cruisers down to eradicate him.
In one fiery explosion he had molested the whole of the warlord's already splintering faction, but had caused severe collateral damage.
And now here he was, being promoted for it.
"Where exactly am I going?" Tarn asked.
Admiral Karr shrugged. "No one knows, reports speculate it's some place called Gahgrin, but I've never heard of it, I would advise checking Bonaden and Onderon, they were hit the hardest by these slave raiders."
Tarn nodded and rose, offering a salute. "Yes sir."
"For the Empire," Karr responded, raising his hand to return the gesture. "You're dismissed."