"I'm the damn Warden of this world. I built my kingdom from the ground up and you think you can just come in her and demand my subservience? And for what? What do I get in return? What benefits do I receive"
"You don't die." Said a man's grating voice.
"Empty threats. It'd never stand in the galactic media, there'd be outrage!" Replied defiantly.
"We're the Empire. We get what we want. These mines our now the property of the Emperor." A final warning.
"I conquered the aboriginals and fought off occupation for twenty years, I survived it and I'll survive the Empire."
"Fuck you and your Emperor."
The Warden pushed away from the negotiation table. His two guards flanked either side and he began for the door.
The Imperial Captain eyed the holo-prompter and nodded to the Imperial News Network official. The cameras stopped rolling. The Captain stood calmly. From a black bantha holster he drew his service blaster. He fired three precise - not that they had to be at this range - shots dropping the three men mid-stride.
The blaster was tabled and the Imperial Captain took a long, breath of regret. This is where he had ended up. An executioner. He'd received his orders and followed through once again not voicing his concern. Under the table and despicable as they were, orders were orders.
The Captain turned to his aide-de-camp and said, "Gather the Warden's family and imprison the eldest son and wife for treason. Offer the second oldest a deal to stay out of custody. If he as the acting Warden signs the agreement he escapes further action and we'll pardon his family."
"And if he disagrees?"
"He won't," The Captain went on to explain, "But just in case take the Gundark with you. With him in tow I seriously doubt the boy's resolve. Maker's sake he's barely out of his teens."
The aide scurried out. Followed shortly by a payment to the news crew before just three bodies were left inside the hall. Mistakes were made.
------
[FONT=Courier New]Many years and battles into the future...[/FONT]
Circe Davian was tired of the Empire. Retirement was upon him and after almost 30 years of service it was well earned. With the recent developments like the Reavers and Cree'Ar it was high time he called it a career.
"What was that place called again?" Circe asked his direct adjutant as the man entered his office.
His mind was on planning retirement again. Dayvid looked quizzical.
"Sir?"
"You know... that one, ahh damn it to hell! Memory's the first thing to go. That world with the beaches?" It was a shot in the dark. Circe could recall the beaches where a summit was held for officers once, but that could describe any number of worlds.
Irked at his deteriorating condition Circe waved his hands to signify defeat. Circe once was a man of razor sharp wit and a keen memory, able to recall details most would arbitrarily ignore or out right forget. Now he was old, losing vision in both eyes and now this disease was taking his intellect from him. It was death by a thousand cuts. The sense of dread grew worse every morning Circe's weary bones rose from sleep. Penance?
"I deserve this you know Captain."
"How's that Commodore Davian?"
"All the shit I've done in the name of the Emperor and this damn New Order. All the evil acts I could have stopped. Hell I never questioned orders aloud. That's what got me hear."
"I'm not sure what you mean sir. You've a distinguished career. A model officer as I have ever seen."
Circe let out a chuckle. "Is that what they say about me? Come on son, you know what they really call me."
"Not sure I know what you're talking about Commodore."
Circe shook his head.
"Commodore Davian... or Commodore Dog? Isn't that what they say? I'm just the Imperial lap dog. Sent to to the shite no one else wants to do. Like raze cities in perpetual civil unrest or clean up the aftermath of imperial projects gone terribly awry. I've done things and prevented others that have earned me a nice comfy spot in retirement, with full benefits and the gratitude of my superiors. And I've also booked myself a one way ticket straight to hell."
Captain Dayvid was silent. Awfully so. He knew it to be true. Dayvid was an exceptional leader and a bright spot in the Imperial Navy. Head of the class and all that honors since he first stepped into the Academy. Fast tracked to the top until he was caught with a certain Admirals daughter and so he got paired with the 'Dog' as punishment.
"Sir?"
"Speak Captain."
"Can I be honest with you?"
"I told you to speak didn't I?"
"Well. I was pissed when I first got assigned here. I knew they had done it to piss me off, to punish me, but after some time seeing what you do and have to do in the name of the Empire I've come to respect you. You can't buy loyalty and you've got that by the destroyer load. Not to mention the trust the men have for you in the battle group. Where ever you go they'd follow you, into the jaws of hell itself. You should be proud of yourself and your career. If I make become half the officer you are I'd happily hang my cap on that."
Circe nodded.
"You're a good Captain Dayvid, and someday you'll make a fine Admiral. But don't put that on yourself. You are suited to lead better than any officer I've had come through the door to my office. I wouldn't want that talent wasted in this battle group. We're the washouts and the last resort. There's no backup coming for us, only a statement released by the Grand Admiral's office in the aftermath."
Dayvid nodded solemnly. He disagreed and Circe could feel it, but the young man didn't voice his opinion so Circe didn't prod him for it.
"What was it you original came in here for Dayvid?"
Dayvid straightened up and approached the desk.
"Marching orders sir. We are to report to the Vale. The Warden has incited civil unrest there. All six worlds have overtaken Imperial garrisons and have halted production in the local mines."
"Why are they sending us?"
"Uh... it seems familiarity sir?"
Circe took a moment. He didn't recall the previous visit. His mind was going as gray as his hair.
"Yes well, it must have been my earlier days as a Captain. This should be a headache. Civil unrest is always a pain in my ass."
"Make the preparations Captain, I want to be underway by afternoon."
"I want to get this over with."
"You don't die." Said a man's grating voice.
"Empty threats. It'd never stand in the galactic media, there'd be outrage!" Replied defiantly.
"We're the Empire. We get what we want. These mines our now the property of the Emperor." A final warning.
"I conquered the aboriginals and fought off occupation for twenty years, I survived it and I'll survive the Empire."
"Fuck you and your Emperor."
The Warden pushed away from the negotiation table. His two guards flanked either side and he began for the door.
The Imperial Captain eyed the holo-prompter and nodded to the Imperial News Network official. The cameras stopped rolling. The Captain stood calmly. From a black bantha holster he drew his service blaster. He fired three precise - not that they had to be at this range - shots dropping the three men mid-stride.
The blaster was tabled and the Imperial Captain took a long, breath of regret. This is where he had ended up. An executioner. He'd received his orders and followed through once again not voicing his concern. Under the table and despicable as they were, orders were orders.
The Captain turned to his aide-de-camp and said, "Gather the Warden's family and imprison the eldest son and wife for treason. Offer the second oldest a deal to stay out of custody. If he as the acting Warden signs the agreement he escapes further action and we'll pardon his family."
"And if he disagrees?"
"He won't," The Captain went on to explain, "But just in case take the Gundark with you. With him in tow I seriously doubt the boy's resolve. Maker's sake he's barely out of his teens."
The aide scurried out. Followed shortly by a payment to the news crew before just three bodies were left inside the hall. Mistakes were made.
------
[FONT=Courier New]Many years and battles into the future...[/FONT]
Circe Davian was tired of the Empire. Retirement was upon him and after almost 30 years of service it was well earned. With the recent developments like the Reavers and Cree'Ar it was high time he called it a career.
"What was that place called again?" Circe asked his direct adjutant as the man entered his office.
His mind was on planning retirement again. Dayvid looked quizzical.
"Sir?"
"You know... that one, ahh damn it to hell! Memory's the first thing to go. That world with the beaches?" It was a shot in the dark. Circe could recall the beaches where a summit was held for officers once, but that could describe any number of worlds.
Irked at his deteriorating condition Circe waved his hands to signify defeat. Circe once was a man of razor sharp wit and a keen memory, able to recall details most would arbitrarily ignore or out right forget. Now he was old, losing vision in both eyes and now this disease was taking his intellect from him. It was death by a thousand cuts. The sense of dread grew worse every morning Circe's weary bones rose from sleep. Penance?
"I deserve this you know Captain."
"How's that Commodore Davian?"
"All the shit I've done in the name of the Emperor and this damn New Order. All the evil acts I could have stopped. Hell I never questioned orders aloud. That's what got me hear."
"I'm not sure what you mean sir. You've a distinguished career. A model officer as I have ever seen."
Circe let out a chuckle. "Is that what they say about me? Come on son, you know what they really call me."
"Not sure I know what you're talking about Commodore."
Circe shook his head.
"Commodore Davian... or Commodore Dog? Isn't that what they say? I'm just the Imperial lap dog. Sent to to the shite no one else wants to do. Like raze cities in perpetual civil unrest or clean up the aftermath of imperial projects gone terribly awry. I've done things and prevented others that have earned me a nice comfy spot in retirement, with full benefits and the gratitude of my superiors. And I've also booked myself a one way ticket straight to hell."
Captain Dayvid was silent. Awfully so. He knew it to be true. Dayvid was an exceptional leader and a bright spot in the Imperial Navy. Head of the class and all that honors since he first stepped into the Academy. Fast tracked to the top until he was caught with a certain Admirals daughter and so he got paired with the 'Dog' as punishment.
"Sir?"
"Speak Captain."
"Can I be honest with you?"
"I told you to speak didn't I?"
"Well. I was pissed when I first got assigned here. I knew they had done it to piss me off, to punish me, but after some time seeing what you do and have to do in the name of the Empire I've come to respect you. You can't buy loyalty and you've got that by the destroyer load. Not to mention the trust the men have for you in the battle group. Where ever you go they'd follow you, into the jaws of hell itself. You should be proud of yourself and your career. If I make become half the officer you are I'd happily hang my cap on that."
Circe nodded.
"You're a good Captain Dayvid, and someday you'll make a fine Admiral. But don't put that on yourself. You are suited to lead better than any officer I've had come through the door to my office. I wouldn't want that talent wasted in this battle group. We're the washouts and the last resort. There's no backup coming for us, only a statement released by the Grand Admiral's office in the aftermath."
Dayvid nodded solemnly. He disagreed and Circe could feel it, but the young man didn't voice his opinion so Circe didn't prod him for it.
"What was it you original came in here for Dayvid?"
Dayvid straightened up and approached the desk.
"Marching orders sir. We are to report to the Vale. The Warden has incited civil unrest there. All six worlds have overtaken Imperial garrisons and have halted production in the local mines."
"Why are they sending us?"
"Uh... it seems familiarity sir?"
Circe took a moment. He didn't recall the previous visit. His mind was going as gray as his hair.
"Yes well, it must have been my earlier days as a Captain. This should be a headache. Civil unrest is always a pain in my ass."
"Make the preparations Captain, I want to be underway by afternoon."
"I want to get this over with."