The coming fight will be long and hard, its battles almost ceaseless and the price of either victory or defeat measured not in blood. Soon I go to face a foe whcih I fear and loathe more than any I have ever encountered on the fields of war. Soon I go. Soon I shall step out of my element and into the lair not of the dragon...


But the snake.


These words were all that would come to mind as the Imperial Courier Frigate Tenacity descended through the atmosphere of Derris VIII. Through the viewports of the multi-faceted vessel, Admiral Telan Desaria could see the vast chains of islands and reefs which had made his destination so popular for tourists and vacationers. While not an approved part of the Admiral's itinerary, he had no doubt any objections would disappear at the whim of the Regent, one of the few men the Corellian officer dared label friend.


The words rang through the Admiral's head as he dared to dream at what was to come. The phrase had been uttered by a Corellian war hero many centuries before who had been forced to exchange his armor of war for the robes of politics, his presence the only assurance of stability. To a lifelong friend he had made the utterance before entering the halls of government. From wars of fire and steel to battles of word and phrase was too great a shock to the hero, and he collapsed of the pressure one year to the day later.


At the thought of himself under such circumstances, the Admiral mentally shivered. He reached to his throat to grasp the Imperial Cross hanging from his collar, a decoration bestowed upon him for the early victory at Sernpidal in what seemed an eternity ago. It was success that was the Admiral's death knell; victory on the field lead some to believe he would make a fearsome negotiator. Thus the position as Chief of the Imperial Diplomatic Corps stuck. At least for now.


" Admiral, we have been cleared for landing."


Desaria turned from his tall cabin viewport to the interior of the chamber. There he stood, the master of a ship barely a hundred meters from bow to stern. Things will change.


" Have they been contacted?"


A brief pause ensued as the ship's commander, Lieutenant - First Class Enrico de la Savvi, checked into the actions of his hundred man crew.


" They have, Admiral."


Erecting himself to full height, Desaria glanced once more at his shabby surroundings and left the room. With a pair of guards in tow, he departed the ship for which he ordered shore leave. With great regret he ascended the long and winding walkway to a hilltop tower sheathed in glass. It was a great relief to step inside, even if it was only temporary. Arriving onworld three days ahead of schedule had served the Admiral's purpose to no end.


Before the conference there would be ample time for the Admiral's first vacation.

The lobby itself was as tall as the building, which was all of one hundred levels from ground to top. It wrapped around the centre of the structure which rose vertically and encased the titannic open area in tinted glass. It was truly breathtaking to look from ones spot on the red carpeted floor over three hundred meters up. Even more beautiful was the tropical rain fall, which arrived the third day of every week like an unbreakable natural clock. Against the towering canopy it would fall and blow, cascading down the entire length of the sloped facade.

Now however, the afternoon sun was out, the wind was blowing, making the Admiral's olive uniform not the least bit uncomfortable. Faint whisps of white clouds lumbered above, their presence noted only for the completion of Paradise.


Inside, people stepped to the side as the Imperial Admiral strode through, the click of his jackboots on the floor below the carpet audible to all. The soldiers behind him seemed subdued in the tropical climate, neither having received much leave in the last year. Each was chosen on two prerequisites: both had served in what once had been the Brass Protectorate Fleet; both had served on the Intimidator with Desaria and was as willing to give their lives for the Empire as for him.


At the counter stood several red vested attendents, both male and female. On their legs were either long shorts or mid-length skirts. Each was well endowed physically, the barely-higher than standard gravity allowing for exquisite muscular growth.


Barely an hour from the Core via hyperspace, the resort planet attracted wealthy Coruscant investors, Raltiiran bankers, and Kuati executives, along with their millions of employees. On the world, all were equal, however, the bonds of professional restraint disregarded. The Admiral noticed immediately several humanoids wearing the green-jeweled rings of the Kuati aristocracy.


" You have a reservation for Desaria?"

The lad who seemed to be the shift supervisor seemed to be taken aback by the all to standard question, as its projector was far from typical; his rigid personna was anethema to the normal vacationer.


Taking in a deep breath, the sun-bathed adonis crouched down to take a datapad from its charging receiver. Slowly he stood, hitting keys as he rose, to find the reservation.


" D - e - s - a - r - e -a?"


The Admiral chuckled. " That's a common mistake, son. It's i -a."


" Of course."


The Admiral could not help but notice a tinge of fear in the boy's voice; being in the presence of an Imperial Flag officer was usually not the send of peace.


" One moment, sir."


The boy with spiked hair rushed off and hurriedly conversed with a group of four other attendants, then grabbed a comm. An announcement came over the broadcast system, quiet enough to grab the attention of those interested, but not enough to interrupt those who wished peace.


Two more attendants arrived, themselves more physically covered than the scantily-clad desk clerks. One male and one female, both humanoid. The female was definitely not pure human, her hair more a mane of fine feathers; the name of her race escaped the Admiral.


" May we take your bags?"


Desaria turned his head about to the pair of guards, nodding slightly. In turn, they handed over the two black satchels containing the Admiral's personal affects.


" This way, Admiral," the male gestured towards a corridor to the far left of the courtesy desk. A sign hung from the ceiling indicating lifts that way. He had a hint of playfulness in his eyes and manner; almost every person on the resort world had no inhibitions whatsoever, romantic promiscuity a standard.


Desaria followed with his guards behind.


***


En route to the Conference, Fondorian Courier Vessel Lightning


" And who are we meeting again?"


" An Admiral named Desaria. One of the big shots."


" And we are we meeting him instead of fighting him off?"


The other laughed. " The Empire probably has a few dozen Destroyers stashed away somewhere; whatever they have, they are hoarding. They're not risking a war now. Plus, we can benefit more from being an Imperial world again."


" I hope you're right, Chancellor. Or many billions more won't be laughing."