Captain Wilek Nereus
After Colonel Maab had departed from the Slice Runner with his spoils from Vinsoth, I took the transport to Argazda. It was a slow trek, taking hours for the trundling freighter to make its way down the hyperlane. Argazda was yet another in a long string of underdeveloped backwaters, but unfortunately that backwater was within reach of Tullius - which means he needed to cram his fingers in.
I took a shuttle from the Slice Runner to the Glorious, the pondering Battlecruiser hanging over the planet's northern pole. A tram brought me from the shuttle bay to a conference room, where I found Tullius.
A week had not changed him, still appearing the inoffensive and bland man he always had. I sat across from him, eyeing his guards before focusing back on the Commodore. He smiled slightly, seeming moderately relieved to see me. Three months ago, I would have gone through a series of mental gymnastics to explain that he was actually planning my death. In light of what I knew now, I knew that this was genuine relief - Tullius was, as seemingly always, out of his depth.
"Captain Nereus." He greeted me pleasantly. "How goes your work on Ciutric-IV?"
"The situation is proving difficult, but it is ongoing." I offered a non-committal response. I would refrain from informing Tullius of my theories for the time being. In part, because Tullius often plays the rancor in a Corellian brand house. His wild swinging would decimate the Pestages and ruin any attempt I made to build a rapport with them. It was debatable if they were a net benefit or harm for the Hegemony as a whole, but their power base could be my door back into politics. I was thankful to Tullius for giving me a position in his fleet, but being pushed from the Navy was probably the best thing that could have happened in my career.
The other reason was more sinister, though one I could freely admit. Tullius had proven surprisingly competent - and lucky - but he was as subtle as a brick. In the current political climate, someone with a complete disregard for propriety or care for how to play the political game was a dangerous speeder to ride. So, Tullius would remain my backup plan if the Pestages proved too disunified or unstable to utilise as tools - I did not foresee many issues from the Tullius angle in the first place. If conflict broke out between the Pestages and Tullius, I would bet what remained of my credits on the Commodore. The few short months we had been associated, he had the uncanny knack to accomplish the impossible.
Tullius nodded sagely,a gesture which I had come to realise meant he had absolutely no idea what I was talking about.
"I see." He did not. "Well, keep me posted."
"I will." I lied. "Still, perhaps we should focus on the here and now?"
"Of course." Tullius slid a datapad over to me, not bothering with the holoprojector for the room. I accepted the device easily, skimming the contents. Tullius had not informed me why I was called here. Argazda was another Outer Rim backwater, though far more developed than my former Governorship. Scarcely over 500 million for its population, not including the minor Imperial garrison present. Its manner of governance was not unheard of in this part of the galaxy - being largely native-governed while reporting to a local sector authority - but the present situation revealed the inherent weakness of the idea.
Tullius had outlined a plan to establish order again, one I was surprised to find was similar to my approach on Bakura. Then again, perhaps it wasn't - I had to wonder how many Governors Tullius interacted with throughout his career.
Tullius wanted to make a local planetary senate, into which the ruling body - the Directory - was to pour a token amount of its power. However, the actual plan was vague - not helped by the fact that the Directory itself was unwilling to surrender any more power than surface level privileges.
The situation on Bakura had been a unique one, a problem I had to solve with limited resources. I was fortunate that Bakura had a republican framework already in place with its own local senate, the powers of which I could manipulate to my needs. There were ingrained powers that I could not unseat, something I learned in the riots of the early days. I liked to think of myself as a cosmopolitan, accepting of other cultures and willing to concede to their desires. I styled the Bakuran senate on its Imperial counterpart, hoping to buy favour with the locals. Surprisingly, this worked - especially after certain agitating elements were dealt with. Curse my soft heart, though - I never went far enough. Sure, I lacked the resources to properly take control of the world, but that was just an excuse.
Here? Tullius wanted my recommendations on how to form a local civilian government - and I was to be given free reign. All the ideas I could never test on Bakura would be on the table here - the framework would be by my design.
The ideas Tullius had put forward so far were a very Naboo-ian approach to democracy. The planet would have been segmented by cities, representatives elected by popular vote by their constituents. Simple, streamlined on a planetary scale - and entirely pointless in this situation. I suspected the actual political machinations on Naboo were far more complex in reality, but even then I would not use this baseline. No, the best way to decapitate a legislature was to subdivide it as much as possible - to push as many groups as possible into a room and force them to agree on something. Institute a few laws limiting party sizes and coalitions to avoid an easy super majority in any votes, add a pinch of corporate meddling by giving the trade unions seats and you had a recipe for a completely ineffectual legislative organisation.
"I can work with this." I decide, putting the datapad to sleep and turning my attention back to the Commodore. He perked up, clearly eager to pass the issue off to someone else.
"I will make available any resources you need." Tullius said, bobbing his head.
I left the Glorious immediately, bound for the capital city of the planet. I was greeted by a minister of some kind. The Argazdan were an unseemly sort, sallow faced with heavy bags under their eyes.
There was little fanfare for my arrival - I was here as an advisor to the 'Directory', nothing more. I was brought to a simple conference room, joining a large group of the local natives. They were dressed garishly enough to be leaders and introduced themselves as the Directory. Credit where it was due, they knew they did not understand how to form a government. However, their focus was in the wrong place. They were discussing where to house the legislature, when they should meet - minutia that would come long after the organisation was created.
I began with familiarising myself with the state of Argazda - the political and cultural realities. Though outwardly, one Argazdan was the same as any other, there were innate cultural differences that formed over the tens of millennia they spent on this planet. The majority cultural group populated the middle latitudes - and were the sole representatives on the Directory. Economic concerns were split between the industrial cities and large rural plantations filling the areas between. Argazda's economy was based entirely around its industry, with agriculture existing to limit the costs of importing more food. This led to a few 'Crop Barons' - as they were called - gathering up control of the planetary cropland.
"We will create a bicameral legislature - an upper and lower house, whatever you want to call them." I started, leaning back as a staff member presented cups of greyish tea. It was sweet smelling, but I refrained from touching it for now - I assumed they would not try to poison me, but I intended to play it safe. The others were not so retrained, enjoying their cups while the presiding Director spoke.
"Two houses? I was of the opinion we were trying to make the new legislature weaker, not stronger." He sounded sour at the idea, but did not immediately shoot it down. He sipped his cup as I explained.
"The trade unions and industrial cities are too powerful to allow them to solely organise in a single house. You want to make them as divided as possible, correct?" I asked unnecessarily, before continuing. "Conflict between an upper and lower house is one of the oldest ways to keep a legislature ineffective. Simply put, you lack the population to make a system like the Republic function - that is, not function. The first house, we shall call it the popular house, will have its districts divided by geography - focusing on maximising the number of districts within the agricultural sectors."
"It would be difficult to get more districts outside the cities than within." Another Director pointed out. "People would ask questions."
"Not more, but enough that the agricultural sector has a sufficient enough place to upset any unified voting block. This will pit the rural and urban blocs against each other, ensuring both always feel threatened by the other."
Our brainstorm continued from there. The creation of an outwardly functioning but internally inefficient legislature was a long and arduous task, but it was one where I could flex my governance muscles. After months of laying about and then counting the fleet's credits, this was a nice departure.
The discussion had devolved into shouting at times, but the fear of being overthrown seemed to reign the Directory in soon enough.
Tullius remained at Argazda for another week. Doing what, I could not say. His ascension from Captain to Commodore was sudden and with loosely defined authorities, to go from that to carrying the same authority as a Fleet Admiral was an even greater jump. Outwardly, the Commodore carried himself with dignity and poise - commanding every room he entered with the spirited confidence of an older man.
Quite literally, I sensed - he was mimicking someone. Blitzer Harrsk if I were to wager, but it commanded a certain respect from those around him. A man of Tullius' accolades was expected to act in such a way and so long as he acted that way, no one would suspect a thing.
I was not quite the same. That was to say, I was the same for months - seeing only what I wanted to see. I realised the truth slowly, with every conversation and action that Tullius was not the mastermind and confident leader everyone perceived him as.
Rivejer Tullius had no idea what he was doing. He was not formally trained for his current authority, he was handed a rank and shoved out the door as fast as possible. He was a pawn for someone's game; disposed of and dropped into a backwater sector to be watched.
But it was more than that. In becoming the paymaster - a position created by Tullius to cope with his complete lack of understanding on how to form a fleet - I had been granted access to his accounts. Not just the fleet accounts, Tullius had - accidentally, I assume - granted me access to his personal accounts. They were clean, as in almost no credits had been withdrawn or spent in the nearly twenty years the account had been open. Naturally, I had assumed that he simply had a secondary account. After all, I did - every officer worth his salt did. Something untraceable, or they assumed to be untraceable, to spirit away spoils of war or a nice nest egg.
No. Tullius did not loot, as far as I could tell. I am certain Colonel Maab's accounting was very interesting, but Tullius automatically had his pay deposited into a single account under his name. Rivejer Tullius did not spend his money because he had a secondary 'real' account for his personal life; Rivejer Tullius did not spend money because Rivejer Tullius had no life outside the military. No hobbies, no loved ones he spoke to, nothing. His permanent residence was listed as a property on Naboo, it seemed he still officially lived with his parents. The most he had to his name outside personal affects he carried with him was a garage on Commenor - where he must have kept a speeder or something similar. He owned or rented no residences on the planet. Tullius spent every waking day of his life working or sleeping, seemingly without end.
I knew that sort, from the War. I was on a backwater posting, but every once in a while a frontline officer would be cycled back from the front. They were always wired, always jumping at every shadow and seeing enemies where there were none. Tullius was not a war veteran - at least not until most recently - but I suspected he carried himself with that same paranoia for years. I could not say what the inciting incident was, my access to his personal records was lacking. Not just because I lacked the authority, but because I assumed they were lost when the fringes of the Empire collapsed. Eriadu was not in a talking mood as of late, or so I was told.
Those officers slowly self-destructed in time, it was almost fascinating watching how they tore themselves apart. I suspected Tullius was fast-approaching that inevitable end. Like a speeder with its engines burning at full but no repulsor lifts, dragging across the ground. He was thirty-three, nearly twenty years in military youth programs or the Navy. The fits of rage were becoming more frequent, the outbursts more common. I would have been content to just watch; He was yet another instance of an officer working himself to death - not the first and certainly not the last - were it not for a key issue.
He was my meal ticket. Temporarily, at least.
"Captain Nereus, how is your work?" He asked, his tone pleasant - though I could hear the techiness. He seemed on edge, though that was a constant for the man. Idle hands seemed to be his greatest enemy.
"Well enough. We are well under way on organising this legislature. They have decided on a two-house system, but I shall not bore you with the details." They would be lost on him, I suspected. Tullius nodded sagely, hands folded up on the table.
"That's good." Tullius agreed easily, the conversation lapsing into silence as he waited for me to continue. Tullius was also an awful conversationist, though again I suspected that it was more his personality rather than a lack of social skills. He had the capability to be charismatic, or at least approachable - but he remained a private man. It would take a charm operation to open him up. The first step of said operation was to open up slowly - offer some information of my own to disarm him and make him more amenable.
"This takes me back; the politics, the backstabbing, the gamesmanship. I originally thought Bakura was a punishment, but I admit - I grew to enjoy it. The lack of oversight from Imperial Centre certainly helped."
A lie, or perhaps a slight bending of the truth. My end goal was to escape Bakura, though I had tried to make the best of it. Tullius bobbed his head, nodding along as he usually did, before making a face.
"Oversight has its importance. Its absence did lead us here." Tullius waited a half second before gesturing vaguely to one side - in the general direction of Argazda, as if he realised too late that he needed to clarify the current situation rather than the overarching one. After all, Tullius did not show weakness. Everything was taken in stride, even the momentary lapses of judgement fitting into the greater picture of Commodore Rivejer Tullius.
"I suppose it does, but as the commander of the Ciutric Hegemony's fleets you have been cast as the oversight, no?"
"Acting." Tullius was quick to amend, continuing in a decidedly more neutral tone. "Besides, this is your show more than mine."
The deflection could have been taken as him trying to pass any blame that might rise from this situation onto my shoulders, it certainly would have been my plan. Tullius was not so cunning, or at least not so cut-throat. Rather, he was trying to delegate command, or give it to someone else. Tullius was at his core a Captain, the leader of a small squadron following orders. There were no orders here to follow - Tullius was the supreme authority until either the Admiralty or Grand Vizier gave him orders.
Tullius wanted to be a follower, which seemed a waste of his capabilities in my eyes. He seemed to have a natural magnetism to him that drew loyalty like metal shavings. A natural born leader, if I wanted to be poetic - though one that was inherently self-destructive.
"Acting or no, you have taken to this new job like a fish to water."
"Or a gungan to land." Tullius chuckled, shaking his head. I had no idea what a gungan was, but I suspected it was him disagreeing with me.
"You have been proactive, which is more than can be said of your predecessor. You take a direct hand, which is rare when it comes to a sector commander - though you do have the benefit of this being a small sector." I said, gauging Tullius' face as I saw a flash of something - anger, or perhaps annoyance - at my words. "I was very direct in my early years as well, you see. Very hands on. I believed that every waking hour needed to be spent hard at work. Damn near burned myself out."
Again, a lie. I had a far better handle on my personal life than Tullius. Naturally. I was far more well-adjusted than the adrenaline junkie before me.
"I suppose the work of a Governor is busy. I could never do it." Tullius deflected, turning the conversation on me. Unfortunately, I was not so easily swayed.
"I am sure you would flourish, you appear to be a man who adapts quickly." Privately, I doubted that. Tullius had all the subtlety of a speeding juggernaut - he would do fine as an Outer Rim governor, if only because that stubborn aggression was better suited on a low population world. "I certainly did not believe myself suited for it to start. Of course, once I realised I did not need to prove myself, I was able to find a more effective work-life balance. I am a hunter, you see. Bakura hardly has the most diverse fauna, but my old slugthrower and I got enough practice."
I briefly cast my mind to the custom piece of equipment, bitter over its loss all over again. My shuttle, my slugthrower, my assortment of hunting trophies, my rare collection of parasites… and my money!
"Well, I am sure you will have a chance to find plenty of sport here." Tullius agreed with a lighter tone, falling into a false sense of security.
"Are you much of a hunter?" I asked, to which Tullius shook his head.
"I've never been much of a shooter, personally. I only maintained the required number of hours at the range."
"I suppose it is not for everyone. How does a freshly-gazetted Commodore Tullius entertain himself?" Tullius seemed almost bemused by the question, as if he had not even considered it being asked of him. He chuckled softly, an almost disarming sound.
"I keep myself busy enough. Too much work to be done to bother with wasteful activities." He paused, before correcting himself. "Not to say your hobbies are wasteful, but I am far too busy to be unnecessarily distracted."
"Surely you must have something to unwind?" I asked with an innocent tone. "Even your diligent officers have hobbies outside their work. Captain Screold has her dueling, Captain Milgern his body-building…"
Body-building was perhaps an understatement, I was fairly certain the man could fist-fight one of Tullius' guards and come out only slightly worse off than his opponent.
"Always too busy." Tullius said shortly.
"What about when you were younger?" I moved the conversation into safer ground for now, Tullius seemed rather defensive at the moment. He was caught short at my questioning, thinking for a moment before answering.
"... Fishing, I suppose."
"Fishing?" I asked, genuinely surprised. Tullius was aggressive and impatient, though I had to wonder if that was mostly his nervous disposition rather than a genuine reflection of his personality. Either way, he did not appear to have the patience to fish.
"My family are fishers, you see. They own a company started three generations back. My father wanted me in the business, he taught me how to reel before I could walk." Tullius laughed, a far more genuine sound as he appeared to remember happier memories.
"You fish, then?" I asked.
"Not for a long time, since I was last on Naboo. I came to hate it as I grew up, childish really. It is relaxing, being out on the water - not on one of the commercial trawlers, just me, my father and a rod." He sounded almost forlorn at the thought, his gaze growing distant.
"What changed, then?" I asked, a more genuine curiosity taking hold of me. I wanted a better understanding of the man I was trying to use to my advantage, after all.
"Ah; teenage rebellion, what else? I signed on with the junior academy on Eriadu at… fourteen, galactic standard. It was childish in the end, I was something of a rebel. My parents supported Apailana, so I had to support Kylantha. They criticised the Empire, so it was the greatest thing since the election of the Emperor to me. Contrary for the sake of it."
"Not much for fishing on Eriadu, then?" I asked, to which Tullius shook his head.
"Hardly. Anything that survived in those polluted waters are just as likely to pull me into the water as I am to pull them out. Besides, Eriadu worked us hard - there was little time to consider hobbies."
Indeed. I thought. Which is why Eriadu-trained officers are renowned for their mental stability and interpersonal skills.
To be fair, I only really knew of two officers from Eriadu - though neither were sterling examples of stability. Tullius might not have been born on-world, but it shaped him into what he was today. The other was the late Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin, who shaped the Empire's entire approach to ruling the Outer Rim.
"Well, Ciutric-IV certainly has plenty of lakes. Like the one next to the capital?" There was a thoughtful look on Tullius' face for a moment before he shook his head.
"No, I haven't time for that. Too much work to be done."
I considered my approach for a moment. Tullius was offering plenty of resistance to my prodding and deflecting me at least somewhat competently. He appeared to realise I was fishing for information - pun not intended - but seemed to almost relax into the flow of conversation. This proved to me another aspect of Tullius' psyche.
His mask was one he forced himself to wear, one that seemed to rankle him. The relaxation he showed warred with his need to always appear business first. I doubted anyone in the fleet had any real understanding of what Tullius was actually like - perhaps even the man himself. How long had he pretended to be something he was not? Tullius was competent, but to act as if he were a rigorous and implacable officer without a moment of respite seemed to be driving him mad.
I leaned forward in my seat, putting on a concerned expression.
"Commodore, when was the last time you visited Naboo? Since you left?" This put Tullius off balance, his expression becoming guarded.
"That is a rather personal question, Captain Nereus. What brought this on?"
"Commodore, when I was in the Navy, there were many men like you. Men who felt work was all they had. Whether for patriotism, or to prove themselves, or simply because they had nothing else. They worked and worked and worked. And do you know where they are now?"
Tullius did not answer, so I did for him.
"They are dead, Commodore. Probably to a man."
I did not rub shoulders with that crowd often and I definitely lacked any examples, but the perturbed expression on Tullius' face told me I was striking a little too close for comfort.
"You are being rather invasive, Captain." His voice was stern, but I had him off balance. He did not like this train of thought, so wanted to end it now.
"The face that you present your subordinates is the one they need to see, Tullius. You led them through Endor and N'zoth and now here - the leader they needed to keep them together. Whatever else can be said, that was you. But it is not healthy to always present that face at all times. A man needs to unwind, he needs to relax before he works himself to the bone."
"And what face is that?" Tullius drawled, his tone now becoming venomous.
"The face of a man without doubt. The face of an officer who always knows the right thing to say or do in every situation. You have done an admirable job of that, but it is inherently self-destructive. You need an outlet, Tullius. A moment to let that face go and relax comfortably."
"Around you?" He asked, though his tone was decidedly less hostile. There was a nervousness to his gaze, like a skittish ungulate caught in front of a speeder. Unsure if he should keep up the facade or admit that he was not what he pretended to be.
"Me, Milgern, Harand, the Pestage woman." Maybe not the last one. "Or just alone, on a boat in the middle of a lake. Whatever gets you off this ship, where you can be Rivejer Tullius rather than Commodore Tullius."
Again, I was telling a slight lie. Where the mask of Commodore Tullius ended and the reality of Rivejer Tullius began was difficult to tell; I severely doubted even the man himself knew for certain. He was a hopelessly brave man, to the point of being suicidally so, but he seemed plagued with an all-consuming nervousness. Perhaps it was a lack of self-worth - I had seen that enough times as well - but that was a job for a psychologist. So long as I could keep Tullius mentally intact until I could establish myself with the Pestage angle, it would be good enough.
"I will… take that under consideration, Nereus." Tullius said after a long moment, his voice wavering slightly as he wet his lips. There was a pregnant pause as he warred with himself on what to say next, before defusing with comedy - something I doubted the Commodore did often. "Though perhaps not Captain Pestage-Neron, if it is all the same to you."
I let Tullius deflect me here, I had said my part and planted the seeds. He knew now that I saw through him; in time I hoped to use that to gain his trust. If all else failed, I would need to continue relying on the Commodore.
"Not so quick to trust outside your fleet?" I asked.
"That and she is a Pestage. I suspect she is reporting what I am doing to her family." I was moderately surprised Tullius had gotten that far - the man lacked a subtle bone in his body. Still, he was only half-right. I suspected that she was here to both spy on him and keep him distracted - if I was indeed right about the relationship between Keld and the Pestages.
"I suspect you are correct." I agreed. "Though that should not come as a surprise."
Tullius nodded, looking mildly proud of himself - as if uncovering the woman was some great triumph. I debated the idea of having her killed - while I had lost my collection of deadly parasites, there certainly had to be some varietal locally available. However, assassinating a Pestage family member was not a good way to start a relationship. So, I held my tongue - about her fate and what I knew about the Pestages. After all, if all things worked as I had planned and I could use my knowledge to leverage more power, then Tullius would rapidly become someone else's problem.
Tullius remained in the system for a few more days before setting off on the next leg of his journey. The Aar system was his new destination, but he did not leave before confirming my plans. With the legislature under construction, I was focused on my work of designing a non-functioning and efficient pair of organisations. Colonel Maab's Marines waited in the wings, ready to deploy to the world and reinforce the local garrison when everything settled down.
The next month trudged by, the difficult task of outlining how this new legislature would work to individuals with little appreciation for political theory an ongoing problem. The twin houses - one upper and another lower - had been organised in such a way that opposing parties would always be in control of one not the other. With any bills that needed passing requiring approval from both houses, it would ensure that the legislature remained discordant and ineffectual. The system - from how the populace voted to how the districts were organised - was created to minimise public interference in rulership. That the legislature enjoyed legislative initiative did little to strengthen their position. Even if a bill somehow survived both houses, the Directory withheld the right to issue a veto without majority support - anonymously, so that no one member could be singled out.
I was in the Palace of Government, overlooking the city. Somewhere out there was the former concert hall being refitted for governmental purposes. Were I a more crude man, I could make a joke about a legislature being built on a showroom stage, but I kept it to myself. Celebrations had filled the streets in the initial week after the announcement of a new civilian assembly. The Unions were pleased, allowing a voting position in one house even if they were excluded from another. With the number of votes being decided by size, the intent was to turn the smaller unions against the larger - only time would tell if this was successful. Every step was to limit organisation - be it political or civil.
There were some more outspoken and clever agitators trying to whip the people into a fury, but enough felt they had won to not lend their voice to talks of revolution any longer. Even now, troop transports were setting down periodically. The garrison had doubled in size over the last week alone - not of ill-trained and armed Armytrooper soldiers, but the comparatively elite Marines. The trap was closing around the agitators and soon enough they would vanish. Into the dead of night, on trumped up charges, whatever manner was needed.
I sipped the wine glass I held. Ordinarily I might have wrinkled my nose at the taste, for it seemed Argazdans were no better wine makers than they were governors. Tonight, it tasted like success.