Commodore Rivejer Tullius
In her reports, Captain Pestage-Neron had described the Corvis Minor system as quiet and poorly defended. This proved surprisingly apt, as we were greeted by the sole Capital ship in the system. A Victory I-Class Star Destroyer orbiting the third planet while its escort of four Strike-Class Medium Cruisers protected the fourth. They were here to protect the worlds and act as a deterrent to ward off pirates from the lucrative trade of xenobiological products and military hardware - as diverse a selection if ever there were.
The Captain of the Victory Star Destroyer was amiable enough, removed from the chaos that gripped the rest of the Second Fleet. Trade traffic flowed easily and without major issues, though the man did bellyache about the presence of pirates harassing shipping. Making promises to have it looked at, we set off for Argazda proper. This was the longer leg of the journey, covering a couple of hours, so I spent that time familiarising myself with the destination system.
The Argazziis system was your standard Outer Rim fare, with only one world having any real significance. Millennia ago, they were something of a minor power on this end of the Outer Rim before, as was typically the case, the Old Republic obliterated them. They had spent the thousand years since miring in irrelevance, going with the flow of politics in this region. Based on reports, little had actually changed on the world after the Clone Wars, beyond a pro-Imperial native government being established. The reformed Ciutric Hegemony had evidently seen little reason to meddle in the affairs of the Argazdans.
The species themselves were, relative to other near-humans, remarkably plain. Palish yellow skin was perhaps the worst of their obvious abnormalities, as different eye colours seemed as common as space dust nowadays. Their yellow eyes were natural, and comparative subdued. If one looked at their history, there would come the expectation of a fractious or rebellious species. However, it seemed the slaving past of the Argazdans was long behind them. This was fortunate, for if I needed to deal with a third slave revolt in twice as many months, I might have had a stress fit.
Our entry into the system was without fanfare, but I knew immediately that something was amiss. A matched pair of Imperial Star Destroyers hung low in orbit of Argazda, not yet aiming themselves toward the world but resting as an obvious reminder. Their assorted escorts hung further back - encircling the planet. It appeared they were spaced at random, until a cursory inspection indicated they were all holding position over cities. Evidently, I had wandered into another crisis.
I sent a quick order for the fleet to fall into formation - nothing specific, but spaced out enough that they could if we were engaged. We set out at best possible speed toward the system namesake, while I hailed the local flagship.
"Argazda Garrison, this is Commodore Rivejer Tullius, Arrowhead Com… Fleet and acting commander of Ciutric Command."
Technically, we were not a Command. The Ciutric Hegemony fleets were referred to as that, the Ciutric Hegemony Fleets - they lacked an official name within the context of the Hegemony beyond their numbered or local designations. The Argazda Garrison was the second squadron of the Second Fleet, or just the Argazda Garrison because that was where they were stationed.
Still, for posterity, I would refer to us as such until I was told to stop.
The communication line jumped to the Imperial Star Destroyer Calyous - the local flagship.
"Received, Arrowhead. This is Captain Bon Balatin, Calyous. I am in command here."
"Forward your report. You appear to be in a situation." Not unless he typically took formation over a world like he was about to orbitally bombard it, in which case we would need to address that as well.
"Sent. You are correct, sir. It is devolving rapidly."
There was a ping on my holotable, before the report was forwarded to my personal datapad. I looked down at it, watching the files flash across the screen.
"Summarise it." I ordered, reading along as he spoke.
Argazda was a world on the precipice, as so often seemed to be the case now. News of the Emperor's death had spread far and wide, inciting a number of riots across the planet. Celebrations, the instigators claimed; days of mourning, the smarter ones said. Whatever the reason, the loyalist government sent in their local enforcers to crack down on the rioters. Control collapsed as regiments defected against the government - that was when Balatin stepped in. The Army was keeping the peace, but it was a close thing. The government and rebels were on the knife's edge of a civil war and the Army lacked the manpower to keep control in that scenario.
"And deploying more men will not help matters." I finished, clicking my tongue.
"The Argazdan are an opportunistic lot, they are all looking for reasons to start the war."
As much as I wanted to drop Maab on this problem, that would not work out. Starting a full-scale war within the first few days of my ascension would reflect poorly, not to mention this was unlikely to be a repeat of Vinsoth. The Argazda cities were established and well-defended. Still, it would be a good idea to have Maab's men prepared in case of a worst case scenario.
"Maintain your current position. You will be called to join a comm shortly."
"Sir." The line between the Glorious and Calyous closed, but I was quick to contact the Slice Runner. The old Super Transport carried the majority of my ground forces and housed Colonel Maab. My code cylinder allowed me to bypass the need to speak with its communication officer, my request to speak with Maab being forwarded immediately.
"Maab here." The man said on the other end, though it was slightly muffled by the background noise.
"Colonel, this is Tullius. Mobilise your men, prepare for a planetary assault."
"We are going in, then?" Maab sounded enthusiastic by the prospect. Vinsoth had been a poor showing for his men, given most of the battle was chasing around roving tribes. The assault of the main fortress - the temple - had been unsuccessful and bloody, with Maab expending the lives of the local Armytrooper garrison.
"Not yet. We will attempt the peaceful approach, but keep ready." His affirmation followed and I closed the line. As my ships joined the local garrison in orbit of Argazda, I opened a group communication with some select officers. Harand, Pestage-Neron as a representative of the First Fleet and then Balatin.
The conference was held at my holotable, not wanting to set up a room just for this. I could see none of them, but the holographic system had each of their ships marked as 'attending'.
"This is Captain Rius Harand, my Second." I introduced the man shortly, before pressing onward. "Everyone should have Captain Balatrin's report, but to ensure we are all on the same dataset - Captain?"
Balatrin summarised the information he gave me shortly before. Harand had little to add, though Pestage-Neron seemed to find it necessary to drag proceedings out - asking highly specific questions. I took this time - largely ignoring the woman - to consider my approach to this situation.
For the time being, peace was being upheld. However, until I could bring in a larger dedicated garrison to bring order properly, I would need to keep these sides balanced. I had no experience in peaceful approaches to civil discontent, not that Harrsk had ever brought us to many of those. So, when faced with the question of how to deal with a rebellious population with a lack of available resources, I pulled on the one example I had at hand.
Bakura.
In most cases, Bakura was a terrible example of how to govern a planet. I would never say as much to the former Governor himself, but it was a simple statement of fact. The world's rebellion had nearly led to Nereus' death and they had attempted to use my men as bodyshields. Given recent affairs, I was less certain I would not bombard the world - a worrying notion - but many of the problems could be blamed on the lack of Imperial assets in the system. Security and law enforcement were handled locally, which meant that the moment those men turned on Nereus it was over. Only the presence of Maab had turned that coup into a short struggle.
In this case, Argazda was not a world in the middle of nowhere, completely out of the reach of friendly Imperial forces. Support was available, just not immediately practical. Only when the situation calmed down could Imperial forces be able to trickle back in.
"In the short term, the collaborationist government will need to make concessions." I announce to my audience. Harand and Balatrin didn't have much in terms of reactions, neither of them being political officers. Pestage-Neron, on the other hand, responded with a sharpness in her voice.
"Concessions?"
"In the short term." I reiterated, heading off that particular issue. "As I understand, the situation on Argazda is too precarious for direct intervention. I will speak with the civilian government and discuss the rabble's demands. Based on what I learn, I will advise them to make some concessions."
Surprisingly, it was not the Pestage that stepped in at that, but Balatrin.
"The Steward will not be pleased with conceding anything to these dissidents." He noted absently, now sounding as if he particularly cared one way or the other. It was at this junction that I needed to pick my words quite carefully.
"This situation should never have escalated this far, extenuating circumstances or not. If the Steward has issue with how this situation is handled, then he can bring it up with me." I announced. It would keep the Steward's attention off of my subordinates and ensure the justification remained clear.
Yes. I thought proudly, crossing my arms. I handled that quite well.
"As you say, Commodore." Balatrin demurred, conceding the argument.
"Would it not be wise to request diplomatic assistance from Ciutric?" Pestage-Neron tried a new angle of attack. Typically, I would have agreed with her. Indeed, I would have been the first person to run back to Ciutric and grab the nearest bureaucrat I could find. I hesitated for two reasons. First, I simply did not trust the Pestages - not just because they had foisted Captain Pestage-Neron upon me from the first moment I entered this system, but also because of the mysterious death of my predecessor. I did not believe the party line for a moment! Second - and perhaps the more subtle of the two - I wished to establish myself and the position of the Navy. As I understood it, in these Outer Rim sections the relationship between political and military governance was not as cleanly divided as it was in the Core and Mid-Rim. By the time I reached the point in my career where political concerns might have affected me, I was already in the Core.
By showcasing the Navy as not just pragmatic but also fair, I could present myself as competent - cleaning up the messes created by the Pestages. Someone that could be trusted and relied upon by civilian and military officials alike.
It is at this juncture that my overarching plan could be seen, for the care I showed their Ciutric Hegemony was a facade. Indeed, a facade!
My end goal was to be redeployed out of the Hegemony as fast as humanly possible. To that end, there are two angles that could be played: sheer competence or brutal incompetence. The idea of acting inept offended me on a personal level, I did not wish to affect more failings than I already showcased. The other was more palatable, proving myself competent at a level that my superiors would find me too useful to waste here.
It was petulant to think so, but I wanted to stay in the Core. Where supplies were ready at hand, where I did not need to beg and scrape and count my credits like a miser. Where I did not need to consider each and every backwater on my trek from point aurek to point besh. Where all I needed to do was follow orders and let someone more important than me make the decisions.
No. I decided. I have had quite enough of command.
"I doubt that. This event showcased the failings of the Ciutric regime to address these problems, or else to notice them before they begin to rise. We are at the cusp of a civil war - this is a Navy matter now."
I waited for any other comments or concerns. When none came, I continued.
"I have forwarded an exclusion zone around the world - no one is to cross it until I order otherwise. This is now a descalation, not the prelude to an invasion."
There was still the possibility of that happening, but no one could claim I hadn't exhausted every option. I closed the channel and watched Balatrin's ships retreat beyond the border I designated. My ships closed and expanded over their own small area, relieving some of his lighter escorts and providing a more consistent blanket around the world. Not quite a blockade, but the commerce traffic to and from the world was nervous. I opened a channel with the HoloNet subsidiary in orbit of the world, who seemed eager to pass me off to someone more important. That was how I found myself in a call with the leadership committee of Argazda.
The Directory - as they called themselves - was an organisation of fifteen Argazdans. Each member was selected by a majority vote by the council, though their numbers could never exceed fifteen. Based on the reports I had access to, it was a government based on their pre-Clone Wars organisation, though with some Imperial flair. So long as taxes and trade flowed, Ciutric did not care how the Argazdans conducted themselves.
Trying to get anymore out of them proved to be a challenge, as beyond the introductions the council seemed set on bickering with each other. It was impossible to decipher what exactly they were arguing about, only that it was a very heated argument. I tried to redirect them and re-establish order, but it seemed whatever fear they had of me was overshadowed by the disdain they felt for each other.
It became increasingly obvious that I would need to take a more direct approach, as it was harder to ignore me when I was in the room with them.
"Prepare my shuttle." I ordered an officer after unceremoniously closing the call, finding the whole effort to be fruitless. "I will depart in an hour."
"Sir." The man said, saluting. His eyes slide past my shoulder then to my face, suddenly appearing very eager to retreat.
"Commodore." I fought back a sigh.
"Major Cardon." I turned to face the man. He was kitted out in his usual CompForce armour, cutting a very intimidating figure. I fought back the desire to glance at my guards, their towering bulk doing a great deal to calm my nerves around this man. My memories returned to Black-3, I would always be wary around him. "To what do I owe the pleasure."
"I have been informed this alien world is rebelling against the Empire." He stated plainly, directly - almost expectant.
"On the brink, Major." I corrected him carefully.
"The only difference is who starts shooting first and it is in my experience that initiative is best suited in our hands than theirs."
What he wanted was clear and I did not wait for him to ask. So, I thought about how to frame what I planned in such a manner that would be palatable to someone like Cardon.
"These near-humans, the Argazdans, are currently all kinds of upset." I explained slowly, walking the man toward the elevator as I made to leave. "They are suspicious, paranoid and on a hair trigger. If we - you - attack now, they'll scatter to the winds. I do not have the time to hunt down every cell. I intend to go down to the capital and give them concessions, lull them into a false sense of security. Then in one - perhaps two - months, CompForce deploys onto to the world to clean up the ringleaders and their supporters."
"After two months, these dissidents will be entrenched." Cardon countered, well-reasoned - which was always unnerving.
"And fat on the feasts of their successes. So long as they are not on the brink of civil war, you can operate with a greater degree of impunity. There are also the… political aspects we must consider."
"Political?" Cardon spat the word like it was poison, yet sounded bemused at the same time.
"The Pestages have failed here, but if we were to spark a brutal civil war…" I shrugged helplessly. "We would look all the worse."
"Pestages." Cardon repeated, looking thoughtful. It was quite concerning how good I was at understanding the mentality of this man. After a time, he spoke again.
"Very well, I see your reasoning, Commodore. I do not agree with it, but then again I do not yet understand the game you are playing with the ruling locals. But CompForce will have its day, Commodore - these dissidents cannot be allowed to run rampant."
"Of course." I promised. The elevator doors closed, separating me from the intense man. My guards were deathly silent inside - having followed me in - so I could not allow myself to sigh in relief.
Still, all things considered, that went quite well.
Despite the chaos on Argazda's surface, no one was in any particular hurry to stop my shuttle as it broke the atmosphere. Though, that could have had something to do with the quartet of sleek Howlrunners escorting us down. The capital city, Maloc, was large relative to the planet's population - numbering in the tens of millions of inhabitants. Despite this, the city was spread out - the local Argazdan seemingly preferred squat buildings to skyscrapers.
We were directed to the central governmental headquarters, a larger complex protected by a wide perimeter of fences. There seemed to be some sort of commotion at its northern gate - protestors holding up signs and presumably shouting catchy slogans. Green-and-red painted speeders surrounded the crowd - some sort of security force response to the gathering. They disappeared from view as the shuttle turned, setting down gently on the landing pad.
"Let's go." I ordered unnecessarily, rising alongside my guards. The boarding ramp lowered, allowing me to dismount. I was struck by a sudden chill, the windiness that I previously could not hear about the shuttle hitting me all at once. I fought down a shiver as I stepped onto the solid ramp.
I was greeted by an Argazdan in a bright red robe, similar in shade to the security vehicles outside or the banners hanging from the building. Beyond the strange colour of his skin and eyes, the Argazdan appeared almost completely human. He bowed his head to me as I approached.
"We are honoured by your presence, Commodore." The official intoned with a respectful tone before straightening again.
"I wish to see a peaceful end to this situation."
"As do we." The official gestured toward the building and we set off for it. My guards folded in around us like the wings on a bird, their presence alone serving as a deterrent. The guards at the door leading in were immediately wary, if I was reading their faces right. Inside, officials and bureaucrats took considerable efforts to avoid us.
As such, it was with surprising speed that we made it to the Directory's chambers.
It was a simple conference room, with a half-moon table at its center. The side facing the door was slightly concave, with a podium so that someone might address the members. At the opposite end upon the apex of the convex side was a more ornate chair. Presumably, this was where the presiding member sat - as, to my knowledge, no one member was directly superior to another. How they selected the presiding Director was anyone's guess, but for today it was a particularly tall and weaselly-looking Argazdan. They were all dressed in some combination of red, grey and green - seemingly the colours for the planetary government - though only half openly wore the Imperial roundel on their outfits. The presiding Director still wore a roundel, so I hoped that it was a sign the council was largely loyal - if only for now.
There were no guards in the room, but no one offered any resistance to the presence of mine.
"Commodore, we welcome you to Argazda; though I wish it were under better circumstances." The presiding Director spoke with an imperious tone - one that belied a leader expecting his audience to listen. However, he seemed rather haggard at the moment. It was a challenge to read the Argazdans present as they all seemed perpetually exhausted, but given the situation outside I doubted this leader had been as successful as he hoped. I recognised his voice from one I spoke to back on the Glorious, before the entire discussion devolved into a shouting match. For now, they seemed calm - though glares were exchanged like broadsides between Star Destroyers.
"Gentlemen, it is my pleasure. I felt that a face-to-face meeting might expedite these discussions." I explained easily. "Perhaps we could start with introductions?"
Director Fertc, as he was revealed, obliged my request and introduced the members in order as well as their importance to the council. High ranking bureaucrats, powerful business owners, military representatives - it was the typical fare for an oligarchy. The cultural minister - a local artist of some renown - was the only outlier, though the roundel he still wore made me worry slightly less about him.
"I have been informed by Captain Balatrin - with whom you are doubtlessly familiar - that this situation on Argazda is precarious." I opened the discussion. It was at this that it all immediately unravelled.
"It is worse than you have been led to believe, Commodore. I-" One of the members began, his uniform a bit more militaristic than the others. He was silenced by the striking of the gavel before Fertc.
"You will wait to be recognised, Director Ennox!" The Argazdan snapped, earning a glare and mutter from his compatriot. After a moment, he raised a hand from the table - which Fertc took a moment to recognise. With a gesture of his gavel, Ennox continued.
"As I was saying, the situation is worse than you have been led to believe."
"I am aware you are at the precipice of a civil war."
"You misunderstand, the dissidents are organised." I looked at the Argazadan queerly, wondering what he meant. Of course the dissidents were organised; that was typically how they got this far.
"The trade unions, they have been organising the riots and marches - forcing demands on us." Another Director announced, one of the members devoid of a roundel. Fertc raised his gavel warningly, flushing with anger. The speaker waved a dismissive hand at the other Argazdan but fell silent. I let a frown pull at my lips as I considered him.
"I am the foreman of the largest trade union on the planet. Mine is not involved, of course, but some of them are." He grunted as an explanation and again Fertc puffed up. He began telling the speaker off properly, but I used this moment to organise my thoughts.
The Empire's relationship with organisations like trade unions or other such groups was complicated. Naturally, it organised its own state-controlled unions - massive in scale, compared to whatever was active on Argazda - but some were left independent. Even then, these independent unions were under considerable scrutiny to ensure production was not affected by their organisation.
When they became a problem, that scrutiny became far more intensive. Which raised the important question.
"How did it get this far?" I demanded, drawing attention back to me. "Surely, you were aware of the situation on your own world?"
The union foreman opened his mouth before thinking better of it. He remained silent and raised a hand. The speaker allowed him to speak.
"The unions have always enjoyed a greater degree of independence, one of the many concessions we needed to give to make annexation by the Empire more palatable. We… That is to say, they slipped their way onto city-state councils and administrative offices. Production was maintained, so no one asked too many questions."
"Until they started organising protests." I finished, making no attempt to hide my annoyance. The foreman shrugged helplessly. He had all but admitted that he also had people on city councils and in places of power. It was probable that the only reason he wasn't out there mobilising his members was the seat he enjoyed on this council, though the lack of roundel was still concerning.
"That is about the sum of it." The foreman agreed, nodding his head.
"Are we aware of which groups are behind these? Why have they not been dealt with?"
"As you said, Commodore." Fertc stepped back, setting his gavel back down. "We cannot rely on the local defense forces to remain loyal. If a regiment turns on the government, that may tip the scales of this impending disaster."
"And the Imperial garrison?" Argazda had a small Imperial garrison mostly gathered around the space ports, meant to watch incoming or outgoing freight. Civil protection and law enforcement was handled by the Argazdan local authorities - an error in judgement, I felt.
"Would you send a power loader to do surgery?" The foreman asked sarcastically, wincing as the gavel was brought down.
"Foreman Quelic!" He snapped. The meeting devolved from there. Another member accused the foreman of himself being an instigator of the rebellions - either because he wanted to overthrow the legitimate government or to make his union more powerful, pick your poison.
The true reason for the lacking response to the dissidents was made clear in the discord among this group. Fertc was unable to regain control of the group and so opted to join the arguments with his neighbors. It seemed I was completely forgotten.
The arguments seemed to rage on indefinitely. I attempted to draw their attention, but the Directory was well and truly lost. I looked down at the podium I was standing before, trying to find some way to rein in the bickering representatives. Alas, nothing stood out - no microphone, the room was relatively small and I was standing close to the members. Still, there was one option available to me and a childish part of my mind had already wanted to do this.
I reached down and found the cool grip of my service pistol, so rarely used. My holster had been exchanged for a passive retention one, for ease of drawing the weapon. It was rare I even touched my pistol, but as always: N'zoth had made me wary.
I raised the pistol over my head and pointed it to the ceiling, squeezing the trigger. The blaster pistol barked, its bolt impacting the ceiling. I fought back a wince, that was louder than I expected. However, it effectively silenced the Directory as all eyes turned toward me, looking at me as if I were insane. I let my arm drop, using that moment to pick my words, before speaking.
"It has become obvious to me that this body cannot decide on a course of action." No one made a move to respond, so I continued. "What is it that the dissidents are demanding?"
It was one of the military appearing sorts that responded first, straightening in his seat.
"Unofficially? The Empire off the planet." He admitted honestly and I had to fight back a roll of my eyes.
"Yes, well, what about officially?"
"A lot of domestic policies - most of which we have approved. The big issue is the Directory itself." Fertc piped up again, seeming far less concerned with the other member speaking out of turn. "They want a democratic process for selecting our members."
"That isn't happening, obviously." I agreed with the unspoken position immediately, giving the rabble any real power was a recipe for disaster. Not all planets could have an enlightened democratic system like Naboo, which for all its faults knew better than to wholly hand the levers to the general populace. From a young age, the future leaders of Naboo political scene were groomed and prepared for their place in the government. I went through my required political activism as a child, but I could always recognise the sorts that had been doing this since before they could walk. Future Queen Amidalas, they all seemed to think of themselves.
"But… We can at least give them the facade."
I outlined my scheme for them. As was the case with Bakura, we would create an Argazda Senate, or legislature, or whatever they wanted to call themselves. There was resistance, but enough members seemed to agree with the concept. A legislature subordinated to the Directory, giving the dissidents some of what they wanted. Hopefully, enough to make them stop protesting.
I spent the next week busying myself with the Argazda Garrison, expecting - or hoping - that the Directory could handle the reformation of their government themselves. Captain Balatin, entirely content with passing this issue off to me, assisted with outlining the state of the Second Fleet.
Argazda had originally acted as the mustering point for the fleet, though given its lack of infrastructure for a fleet I assumed that was more arbitrarily decided. The former Admiral Delany had called his fleet to Argazda and then left with them. Balatin had remained behind, taking some ships with him in the decision. The rest of the squadrons at Corvus Minor, Salin and Aar had been similarly gutted.
"Once I have a better idea of what is happening at Aar, we will address the status of your squadron." I said to the man, standing at my holotable. The hologram in the centre was of a well-built man with a thick horseshoe mustache. Though not quite as large as Milgern, Balatin still cut an intimidating figure. I said nothing about his obviously non-regulation facial hair, there were sayings about casting stones in glass houses for a reason.
"Of course, sir." I ended the call, his hologram flickering out. I wasn't given more than a moment to take in a breath before another request came through on the holotable. It was from my fleet, the Doubtless, but rather than using the fleet channel they wanted this private. A frown pulled at my lips, but I answered it.
"Tullius here." I announced, forgoing the usual formality in my haste to get to the point.
"Commodore, this is Pestage-Neron." The cool voice of our most recent addition came through the speaker. The hologram flickered as she appeared - back straight and eyes boring into mine. "I wished to speak to you about Argazda."
Yes, I suspected she would. I redirected my thinking into how I would justify this in a way that she would accept.
"Is there an issue?" I asked leadingly.
"Your approach to dealing with this issue has raised some concerns. Chief among them was your decision to establish a civilian government on the world. Some may take this as you vastly overstepping your authority as a Navy official."
"Indeed?" I asked, folding my hands behind my back as I tried to affect a displeased front to the woman. "Captain Pestage, I-"
"Captain Pestage-Neron." The woman interrupted me, annoyance flashing across her face. Interesting, though I did not know if that was because I got her name wrong or because I emphasised her association with the ruling dynasty.
"Apologies." I said easily, "Captain Pestage-Neron, my being here is evidence enough that Ciutric is incapable of enforcing its authority upon this world. The Navy steps in to restore order where civil governance has failed, such is our duty."
"The Steward will be displeased with you taking power out of his hands." Pestage-Neron said warningly, surprising me. I would have expected the spy of all people to understand what I was doing.
"You are referring to the Parliament?" I asked before continuing. "I am disappointed, Captain. This legislative organisation will be nothing more than a means of control - providing the dissidents just enough rope to hang themselves with."
It would provide the general populace what they claimed they wanted, while those in power would be thwarted by the divided opinions of their followers. As I understood it, many of the trade unions had already come to the table - their adherence to the party line only going as far as the credits did.
"Sir?" She asked. I understood now, she wanted me to explain it - to gauge if I had a proper understanding of the situation. Namely, what she would need to report back home.
"The facade of democracy, Captain. Give the populace what they want, but provide it no real power. They have control over some domestic policies, perhaps, but it gives them only the illusion of control. Then, when the populace are settled and the leaders are struggling to make their mark?" I raise a hand and snap my fingers. "We strike."
We had the names of the unionists and other political activist leaders, or some of them at least. The local Imperial garrison would be strengthened, the cost-saving method of using locals showing its weakness. Once the dust was settled, we would round up these dissidents and push for wiser and more loyal officials in their place. Or, the Directory would. All things considered, I expected this to take time - something I did not have readily available enough to waste here.
"I… see." The Captain said slowly, nodding her head. "Very well, sir."
She had nothing more to add, so I had no way to gauge if this was acceptable reasoning. Still, the call ended without incident.
Which meant another call was forwarded my way. I fought the urge to glare at the communications officer, especially when it was a request from the Directory. The issue was one of how to form a government, as the Directory was not made of political scientists or legislative experts. Military officials, bureaucrats, trade unionists and a single artist could have grand political stances, but little real understanding of how a government functions. Worse still, how to form a government they could then manipulate.
"There are certainly examples you can access." I tried.
"Indeed, there are, but to follow these examples in such a manner that works to our benefit is another issue entirely." Fertc said. I brought my hand up to my cheek, running my fingers over it in thought.
This was completely out of my expertise. I hadn't been "involved" in the Naboo political scene since I was nine and I certainly didn't understand how to operate a government at that time.
No, this required an expert.
Captain Wilek Nereus
From the first moment I spent on Ciutric-IV, I knew I was being hindered. It started small; delays that could be credited to administrative sluggishness, incorrect reports sent due to overworked and understaffed bureaucrats. If I didn't have years of experience dealing with these passive forms of resistance and subterfuge, I might have thought nothing of it. However, I did have that experience and, while my current opponents were far cleverer than the Bakurans, they were over playing their hands.
The Pestages - or their agents in any case - were trying to hide something from me, probably many somethings. It was a battle just to get the financial reports for the First Fleet - little more than the entire Ciutric Hegemony theatre. I had to throw around Tullius' name and enough threats to make it feel as if I were back in the Core, so the Pestages must have been desperate.
Tullius had given me all the authority I might ever need to deal with the financing and resupplying of the fleet and I intended to ingratiate myself within his staff.
That was how I found my way to the Ciutric Shipwright Company, the aptly named shipbuilding corporation on the planet. Unlike the Core, Ciutric lacked the resources or need for expansive orbital production yards. So instead, all their ships were produced on the surface of the planet. The CSC had one large compound in the countryside, the only place with room enough for them to spread out. Great pits were where they built their ships, settling the vessels on elevators to raise or lower them as necessary. Eight 'full-sized' pits were present, with an additional four smaller ones for corvettes and smaller frigates. The late Admiral Keld had sourced everything short of Cruisers and Star Destroyers from these production yards at exorbitant costs and I was quite interested to learn why.
I met with the compound foreman, a brawny man with a rough accent that was hard to listen to.
"Welcome to CSC headquarters, Cap'n." The man greeted me with a booming voice. I shook his hand. Despite the well-to-do nature of his dress, his hand was rough and calloused.
"Thank you for meeting with me." I said easily, keeping my smile as he released my hand. I had to clench my fingers to try and force feeling back into them.
"Of course, of course. Unfortunate thing, ol' Keld's death was. He was our biggest customer!" The man laughed again before gesturing toward a hovering speeder. I followed him over, hopping into the back. The driver took off, leading us between two of the pits as we set out on the tour. One was empty, while the other contained a mostly complete-looking Strike Medium Cruiser - its strange silvery hull standing out against the dark grey of its gurney.
"Admiral Keld procured a lot of his ships through you?" I asked, raising my voice slightly. The foreman nodded his head, leaning back in his seat.
"Yessir, if we could build it he got it through us. Brought that other one - Delany or somethin' - on occasion. Oh boy, the shouting matches they got in. Guess Delany thought he was wasting too many credits, but you know how those Core types are." He shrugged, before seemingly realising who he was talking to and glancing at me through the corner of his eyes. "Meanin' no offense, o'course."
"How do you mean?" I asked, though I was not offended. I was curious. Well, I was slightly offended, but interest won out over snapping at this obtrusive man.
"Well… Delany was frugal, Keld wasn't. Bought all his ships through us, those he could anyway. Wanted them fast, he said."
"Bought? As in, with his own credits?" One might be confused at my incredulity, given that Tullius had also bought his own ships. However, that was highly irregular and a sign of the times at Kuat. I had planned to file a wide range of acquisition and procurement reports with Imperial Center to have that reimbursed, but doing so as a standard operating procedure even before Endor?
"Not his, the fleet's coffers."
We passed between another pair of pits, both empty. Some workers were wandering around the pits, working on menial tasks or else lounging.
"Keld bought them directly? He didn't go through procurement?" I reiterated.
"Oh, yes. You know how things are at Kuat - slow as all can be when it comes to these Outer Rim fleets."
I fell silent for a moment, letting those words pass over me. There was a scheme here, and it was becoming increasingly obvious who was behind it. However, that raised the question - why was Keld dead?
"I see production has slowed. Does the Hegemony not need many ships now?" I noted absently, fishing for more information as we passed yet another pair of empty pits. The foreman nodded, a frown crossing his lips.
"No. When Keld died, Delany took over briefly. Cancelled all the contracts, kicked up quite a storm. The Ol' Man was furious, shouting all kinds of things about the Admiral. Then Delany ran off an' nothin's been the same since."
"The Old Man?" I repeated.
"Josef Pestage, he founded the CSC outta the corpse of the old production company. Hired me right back on."
And so the picture was complete. The Pestages owned this production yard and used Keld to funnel credits directly from the Navy into their own pockets. Before Endor, I had no doubt the Admiralty accepted the requests from Keld without question - especially since the Ciutric Hegemony happened to be owned by the Grand Vizier. So the family built what was certain to be a fortune off the back of a quite likely completely corrupt Keld. Which raised the question of why he was dead.
The man was a money making tool for the Pestages, they would never kill him. Even with the credit stream from Imperial Center drying up, it seemed wasteful and a fast way to put someone against spending credits at all in charge - someone like Delany. Tullius had hinted his own belief that the Pestages were behind it, but I doubted it now. Delany would be the more likely suspect, getting rid of his wasteful superior - as Keld commanded all of the Ciutric Hegemony fleets - but then why hide that information? Why not outright blame Delany, especially now that he is gone?
Unless… Unless Delany wasn't behind it. And the Pestages knew he wasn't behind it. They must have been conducting their own investigations and with the fleet now headless they could do so without rousing suspicion. So long as there wasn't an officer positioned to find what Keld had been up to - at least an officer that wasn't also a Pestage - they were fine. Then they learn a new officer was being sent to the Hegemony. I could only guess what the Grand Vizier had said to them, but from any angle Tullius was outwardly a problem: An officer in the pocket of Grand Admiral Teshik, an overzealous madman with the favour of CompForce; whatever they thought he was, it would spell disaster for their operations. So, some elements of the Pestages panic and decide to purge the fleet - to wipe out anyone who might have been involved with Keld's death or their money making venture. It was all too amateur for a family of their supposed age and experience, which also indicated some division inside the Pestage Clan. I made a note of that in my mind and glanced at the foreman.
I wondered if the man I was sitting next to had been slated for death as well?
The tour ended with some vague promises to approach Tullius about using the CSC for our production needs. I escaped back to the hotel that had become my temporary base until a more permanent residence could be found. The Pestages were trying to hide evidence of their open corruption and I now had a lead to catch them. A lead I could use to my advantage.
A communication was waiting for me from Tullius. It was a request to go to Argazda, to assist in some government building. I frowned, but knew I still had to cater to him. I knew now Tullius was far less clever and dangerous than he appeared, but he could still be used to my advantage as well.
Now I needed only to figure out how I balanced Tullius against the Pestages.