Azrael Zell snorted as the holographic projection of the galactic map spun slowly in front of him clearly showing off just how many claimants there were to the Empire moniker. It was not lost on him that his own ‘territory’ was somewhat undefined as it loosely overlapped areas where he exerted no political control over. How these areas could still be considered ‘within his scope of oversight’ he really did not know but he was not the damned fool who programmed the computer’s calculating algorithms that stated what was what. Apparently there was some connection no matter how tenuous.
Still, he was still recognized as the Regent, appointed by his Emperor-fucking-godship, Daemon Hyfe himself so while he may not claim to have the largest territory (that honor seemed to go to Park Kraken who had gobbled up a sizeable remnant of the Imperial pie) or the most powerful fleet (though that honor seemed to be a debated between Kraken and an Empress that Wes Vos supported), he did have something that no one could claim: legitimacy.
For all the fucking good it does! His mind mocked.
Legitimate he may be but to his way of thinking, it brought nothing tangible to the table. He would have gladly traded it for the return of the Imperial First, Second and Third Fleets that had been sent to gods knew where; along with Hyfe.
The Cree’Ar battle fleet had attacked them with something new and the Empire’s response? To attack the problem head-on! It was a tried and true Imperial tactic for untold years, nay decades and one that, in one moment, became obsolete.
That the Cree’Ar entered Coruscant space had shattered the aura of invincibility the Empire had crafted over the years. Who knew how long it would be to get it back? That the Cree’Ar had taken Coruscant from them shattered the galactic identity the Empire had also carved out for themselves over the decades. Now all that work was undone and who the hell knew when those former boundaries of Empire would be reestablished or even exceeded. The only ones making a killing where the map-makers as they constantly found themselves work by vigorously updating the various boundaries as polities shifted.
And the map he was looking at was not even known to the map-makers. The galaxy at large still viewed him as a dead man.
The Cree’Ar actions (or inaction in this case) displayed a frightening degree of understanding of the human psyche. For months, they simply were content to lay siege to Coruscant effectively blockading the planet all the while leaving a hyperspace corridor open. Ever so slowly, they tightened the noose until they started to directly strike certain sections of the planet-city causing an already overloaded emergency response system to collapse. By the time actual Cree’Ar soldiers landed, victory was already assured no matter how passionate the defenders fought. And yet, even that passionate defense crumbled when the spineless Kach Thornton and dickless Director Trachta decided then and there they would overthrow the Empire.
So while Zell narrowly escaped and wasted away on a backwater pre-spaceflight world, it came as no surprise that the two shitheads made their way to Vladet where they proceeded to crown Kraken. He could wish all he wanted that the Cree’Ar had captured them and tortured them to death but the truth of the matter was, ‘why would they’? Fuck! The two dipshits practically single-handedly did the Cree’Ar’s job for them! They were the best fucking operatives of the Cree’Ar fucking Dominion!
Now, fear gripped the many remaining elements of what was once the Galactic Empire. Even now, here, in this secret sanctuary proudly calling itself ‘Imperial Center’, though not proclaiming it loudly or publicly lest they bring down fire from their enemies, the Cree’Ar, or from their other enemies, the other splinter factions of the former New Order, the rats were scrambling to leave what they considered a sinking ship.
It was actually the burning away of the useless chaff that had come to infect TNO.
He turned a sardonic grin to the officer that served as his aide as the other gaped at him in shock. The First Order Initiative was a political group gaining ground in their neck of the proverbial galactic woods and his aide wondered how Zell was going to deal with them for while he had the legitimacy of the Regent’s office, he was limited in the power he could exert to enforce his political will.
His move to back the rebuilding of Tholatin was not very well received in the political circles of his part of the Empire and the First Order was using it ruthlessly to increase their own power-base. All things considered, it was a smart move as far as political maneuverings went but their whole plan hinged on impracticalities and an economic plan that could be described succinctly as 'pissing in the wind'.
“You let them go?” his aide asked as if he did not believe it. He probably didn’t.
Their plan to restore the Empire to its former glory hinged on the construction of what they called “Starkiller Base”, a planet with a hollowed-out hole to stick a superlaser making, according to their representative, the perfect staging base to take back the galaxy. This superlaser would have the power to destroy entire systems.
The Regent smirked. As if we did not already have that power...
Zell shrugged at his aide's outburst, “It," he started, describing the philosophy of this First Order Initiative bullshit, "wasn’t about their fucking monstrosity of a base. If they want to destroy systems, a suncrusher vessel can be built much quicker and less expensively than hollowing out a fucking planet! They want their own empire. Just like Kach, Kraken and whoever that bitch is that Voss is backing. So let them go build it in the fucking Outer Rim Territories! They are so fucking poor it will be decades before they ever get a working prototype. And you know what? Someone will probably blow that up too! We’ve been too set in our ways and have used the same tactics since Palpatine. We are not getting the same results as we did in the past. Our shattering is proof of that!”
“But to send them away?”
“They were dumbasses and their fucking ideas would bankrupt an already bankrupt state! So I sent them closer to the Occupation Zone. Let them fuck around with the Coalition or Confederation! They are like a fucking cult and I, for one, have had my fill of religious zealotry! Hopefully, they will end up killing each other!”
This post was edited by Simon Kaine (8:26pm 05/07/17, 1 years ago)