OOC: Once again, eat @#%$.
Bastion<p align=right><table width=90%><hr>“Ensure that INS continues to do their job, as well. I believe you have a certain affinity for controlling them.”
-Simon Kaine<hr></table></p>
Indeed, Theren Gevel did have a special affinity for controlling the ebb and flow of information on the Imperial News Service. After the Coalition newscast which, roughly, announced their intention to strike, the Empire had been put on war footing – and nothing had been more essential in this process than INS.
On Imperial worlds across the galaxy, militias had been formed, bunkers built, houses reinforced, and citizens armed. The propaganda of Simon Kaine – featuring one particular commercial of brilliant design, but also a number of others – had been disseminated, along with dire warnings of what was to come, backed up of course with direct (and threatening) quotes from ‘Coalition’ officials.
“What about the Alsakan Academy?” Tornel asked, busily taking notes on a datapad and relaying them to a number of the proper authorities.
“Make sure some of the more gifted students are leading the militias,” Theren said, “most of those militiamen probably couldn’t get the blaster pointed in the right fu
cking direction without help.”
Tornel grunted and nodded. “And –”
Interrupting Theren’s aide was a knock on the door of the Commodore’s office. The door opened before either man could respond, and in swept a red-armored, black shoulder-pauldroned Stormtrooper. The soldier’s helmet had an oddly elongated faceplate, and walked with a smooth, elegant stride.
The Conclave Executor bowed deeply to his sovereign, and Theren nodded in return. “What’s going on?”
The Executorial Legion numbered exactly one-hundred elite operatives, specially-trained and genetically altered for their varying mission objectives. Each one was referred to only by their number within that order, and the number was based on the order in which they were created. In the event of the death or exposure of one, another was created and each one moved up in the chain. Though, of course, none had been killed or discovered in months of operation.
“Two greets you, Governor,” the Executor said in its metallic, synthesized voice.
“Ah,” Theren said. There was no way of telling them apart, but once he knew the number of the Executor before him, he recalled the mission it had been sent on. “You were on mission on Bespin?”
“Yes, Governor,” it replied. “I come bearing a message from Dej Kilnar; all is in place. He wishes to convey to you that this message is too important to be transmitted over any line, encrypted or otherwise. One is also currently on Bastion, but we thought it impertinent to travel in pairs to your office.”
Theren nodded. “Damn good work. Return to Bespin, Two, and relay my order that One go back to Taloraan.”
“Yes, my liege.”
Theren winced at the title. The imprinting of Theren as the lone authority figure for all Executors by the Kaminoans had been effective – almost too much so. Though most Executors restricted themselves to referring to Theren as “Governor”, Two seemed to be adept at inventing new titles for his master.
“That’ll be all, Two.” The Executor nodded curtly, sweeping from the room. Before he could reach the door, however, Theren added, “And good luck, Two.”
Two turned around briefly, his eyeless gaze meeting Theren’s. “Luck is a human invention, my lord. I will not fail, luck or no.”
Theren nodded, and Two left.
* * * * *
Skipray Blastboat,
En Route to BespinThe in-helmet communication system which linked all Executors only worked in real-time over short ranges, though of course messages could be relayed from anywhere in the galaxy. All Executors operated in pairs; One and Two, Three and Four, and so on. Over time, they became increasingly reliant on one another – almost symbiotic.
Though the Executors were created for unquestioning obedience, there were occasional, peculiar differences between the alien beings. Two was conscious of this, though he couldn’t be sure if One was. Two’s loyalty had always lain fully with Theren Gevel; he admired the man personally, based on his have risen from low beginnings to a position of power and prestige. Obviously, both had been shown extensive holovids of Gevel’s life since birth, and both knew him like the back of their gloved hands; but Two had always been especially fascinated by his commanded. One, Two had always felt, considered it duty to serve Gevel; Two considered it a pleasure.
“Do you believe the plan will succeed?” Two asked.
“Gevel’s plans have seldom failed,” One replied.
“True.” Two thought for a moment. “You know the specifics?”
“I am the leader of the Legion. Of course I know.” There was no pretension in One’s voice; there was no emotion of any sort among Executors, Two knew.
“It involves in the Imperial News Service?”
One seemed to stew over this. “Yes,” he finally says. “You know I can say little more.”
“I do know.”
“You will discover all on Bespin. Kilnar, as you have observed, is a member of the INS, and knows a great deal.”
Tenets of secrecy were important in the Legion. “I observed an order regarding explosives,” Two began.
“That is enough.”
* * * * *
Cloud CityDej Kilnar was a smirking, thin man, not wholly unlike the more somber Theren Gevel. He was a high-ranking member of the INS, despite his young age, and greeted Two with an exuberance he knew the soldier could not return. “Hey, there!” Dej called, as Two stepped down from the craft.
In a way, Two almost liked Dej; as much as he could form an opinion on any living being. He nodded curtly to the man, following his lead. “Charges are laid, cameras are in place,” Dej said, chuckling slightly.
Two blocked out the sound. Somewhat.
