A Lesser Tread Path...

[Gir Quee]

LL-1200 Freighter Java, near Hast

"Pretty," observed Ariela, looking up through the canopy towards Hast.

The blonde man spared a glance from the freighter's HUD to look up at his home world. Even hundreds of kilometers away from the surface, he could imagine the undulating waves lapping against Fairview's beaches or swelling around bulbous underwater structures of Ibtisam City as the tides rose and fell. Even more than the landscape itself, he could imagine the world's people. Regret already steeped in his soul as he left them largely to their fate. He had stepped down as Pro-Consul, and with the impending expansion of the Sith Empire, had evacuated most of his company and the Directorate assets out of the area. He would be among the last to leave the world. He silently turned his attention back to the ship's HUD, with Ariela closely watching his gaze the entire time.

"This sadness will come to pass," said the droid softly, reaching out to touch his arm.

Gir almost would have felt the gesture comforting, if he hadn't known about the circuitry underneath her artificial flesh. Just how much of that was innate programming or learned behavior, Gir didn't know. But he could find no solace in her attempts to comfort him.

"Maybe," said the man, spotting an object in the distant horizon, the orbital shipyards of Hast.

That worried him the most. Those yards had been owned by a close ally once, one [member="Taeli Raaf"]. News of her true loyalties revealed at Coruscant had shocked him. He found it small relief that she and her companies had ceased activities in their organization from some time now. She still knew much of their internal structure and the location of Directorate assets. Worse yet, she could easily field eyes from the same shipyards to watch over the Directorate, that is, until the Directorate had transferred over the last of its assets to the Waystation, the new temporary home of Directorate High Command. Gir finished typing in some last commands into the ship's nav computer before the freighter leapt into the flowing blue realm of hyperspace.

"...I'm not sure if it'll fully be gone until we can return here from exile. But there's the rest of the galaxy out there. It's larger than one world."

"You have people around who still need you and love you."

She's getting better at this...A wry if somewhat subdued grin creased his lips as he considered Azira's handiwork. She almost could take the place of a romantic interest in a public setting. Maybe Azira will prove me wrong yet again...

"I'm not sure if Directorate High Command counts," muttered the man, "but they sure won't let me forget about them, not with all of this squabbling going on. What's the latest news from the Waystation anyways?"

 

[Gir Quee]

"Reglia and his allies are trying to consolidate their hold on the smaller companies for some future venture, rumor has it some trade with some ex-One Sith remnants or some ex-Warlord in the Outer Rim. Executive-Commodore Nassin is trying to gather those willing to raid the Sith Empire shipping lanes."

The blonde man muttered under his breath. Corporate and military men reverting back to their pasts...or should I say, what they know? He had to admit, there was a certain allure towards falling back on what he had been successful in. His consulship on Hast ultimately was untenable, and thus a costly political failure. A part of him yearned to fall back to being a simple commander. He had molded the ISAF's 4th fleet into professional force led by capable commanders and equipped with some of the best and latest vessels in the galaxy. It wouldn't be to hard to be a desk jockey based in Ceraluen with occasional forays onto battlefield in the Obi-Wan Kenobi. The sheer might of the group could easily provide him with dozens of victories against lesser opponents. Patrols on the doldrums of space against pirates and other raiders might not be the most spectacular end to a career, but it would at least be a respectable one. But irritation burned at the same though; the thought that he was willing to lower his aim. He bit his lower lip in annoyance.

Ariela eyed him coolly, causing Gir to briefly glance at her before he unfastened his safety straps.

"You're unhappy with their plans? Or with yourself?"

"Both," stated Gir, casually tossing the straps to the side before he slumped in his chair.

He let out a long sigh, "I don't know Ariela. Nothing seems to be working right these days. I wish I could hire two dozen of the galaxy's best assassins to eliminate a bunch of our problem people before the rest of us sane ones started fixing the galaxy up. Maybe we could get something to work right then, without their interference."

"Do you want me to look into arranging that?"

He ruefully his head and let out a nervous chuckle, "I was just venting. Even if we did that successfully, more people would simply take their place. Most leaders mold subordinates at least a little bit in their own image. Speaking of leaders...you haven't said anything about the Circle or Plot'ges. What are they up to right now?"

She paused for a moment, "The Circle is settling into their new quarters on the Waystation. Plot'ges is conducting some sort of experiment on the technology discovered on Eryn III. Some sort of disruptor weaponry that you found on the droids there."

"Well, at least he's being productive. I should visit him before we have to start cracking skulls...figuratively speaking, that is..."

"A welcome diversion?"

"Exactly," said Gir with a curt nod, "I'll take what I can get right now. It's time to set some matters in order before we all disperse to pursue our own ends..."