Character
A summons by the Admiral Regent personally was a rare affair in the New Imperial navy. Most communiques and orders came via encrypted channels, and were typically delegated. And even amongst those, a summons for a personal meeting with the Admiral Regent was not run of the mill. The typical orders which came through to the various fleet commands of the New Imperial Navy were requests for fleet movements, and these were nominally delegated to local naval command and sectors. Commanders who organised based on intelligence of Sith fleet movements. But actual appointments were even rarer. The Admiral Regent tended to delegate immediate authority regarding personnel to his Fleet Admirals, former First Order alumni and now Prefsbelt Command enforcers.
The meeting place was simple, Prefsbelt IV’s orbit. While the New Imperial Navy maintained an official headquarters on Nirauan, and a ceremonial presence on Bastion, everyone within the navy and out of it knew where the true power of the navy lay. Prefsbelt Command. Something the Admiral Regent had been especially eager to emphasise since succeeding Tyrell Praxxus in the role. The lambda-class shuttle delegated to Vice Admiral Tarsa Doon, streaked through the planetary space of Prefsbelt IV. What became immediately apparent was how bustling the space around the system was.
Cargo vessels both civilian and military lumbered around, under the watchful escort of thousands of TIE fighters. But perhaps most visceral was the appearance of the gargantuan, dagger-like NIV Tregessar. If the headquarters on Nirauan was basically a shell, and the Admiralty Complex on Bastion a mere formality, than the Tregessar was the true command centre of the navy. The focal point of a dozen or so incursions against the Sith Empire and her associated allies, the super star destroyer was flanked and surrounded by an escort of at least a dozen Star Destroyers, Battlecruisers and Cruisers. This before even counting the myriad of corvettes and frigates patrolling the perimeter of the vessels command structure.
The Lambda-Class shuttles comms buzzed with requests for clearances. Procedure and docking permissions. It was clear that Prefsbelt IV space was a very… secure region. With security check after security check before the shuttle could be delegated a landing pad. The primary ventral hangar of the Tregessar herself. The shuttle streaked through, passing beneath the watchful gaze of a dozen vessels, and wings of TIE models, buzzing the sector in either drills or perimeter patrols.
The hangar of the Tregessar, as they approached was busy itself. With soldiers, the infamous Prefsbelt Stossjaeger, arrayed in training drills, with naval personnel. But what was different was the uniforms. The New Imperial Order sought to emulate in aesthetic of its officers, the aged Galactic Empire. With its olive, tan and grey uniforms for naval commanders. The Prefsbelt Command however, emulated their former allegiance. With crisp black First Order style uniforms.
With the docking ramp extended, Tarsa was met by an ensign. “Vice Admiral Doon,” The ensign began, “The Admiral Regent would like to extend his sincerest thanks for answering this unanticipated invitation.” The ensign paused, bowing slightly, “If you would please follow me, I will take you to his offices.” The ensign turned heel, and began to escort Tarsa through the tangled web of corridors through the vessel. The super star destroyer was remarkably strict. Soldiers moved silently through it. There were no sounds of idle chatter, or any jokes being shared. It was almost a void unto its own. And the bits of conversation caught up on were formal. Discussions of repairs, and maintenance. When to conduct another series of drills etcetera. Tarsa was hardly noticed, although by those whom she was, she was given a cool glance, before the NCO’s and personnel returned to their labours.
Tarsa was lead through the vessels confines, and up to the city scape. Through the warrens and confines of communications centres, sensor arrays, and finally observation decks, to a waiting room. “Please,” The ensign began, “Take a seat,” She gestured to the myriad of lounges, “I will see if the Admiral Regent is in.” The ensign approached the door, knocked, and then entered. A bark of “Hail Rausgeber!” The door closed, leaving the Vice Admiral alone. Viewports showed off the fleet, and scores of TIE fighters streaking through the system. For about two minutes, the Vice Admiral was left alone, until the door unsealed. "The Admiral Regent will see you now." The ensign stood to attention, and then moved out of the way, allowing the Vice Admiral to enter the room.
What she entered was an office. Large, spacious. With one desk. The desk was enormous, with panelling. A holographic projector built in, as well as a box, hand crafted, and opened. Filled with cigars. But behind it, the Admiral Regent himself. Perhaps a little more youthful looking than most of the propaganda reels nominally featured. "Vice Admiral, a pleasure you could make it. Given I've drawn you all the way from the comfort of your command, to here." Rausgeber did not stand, but rather sat attentively at his desk. Behind him, he could see through all the traffic of Prefsbelt IV from the comfort of his viewport. A hand graciously gestured to a seat opposite him.
"Please Vice Admiral, sit down before you fall down."
The meeting place was simple, Prefsbelt IV’s orbit. While the New Imperial Navy maintained an official headquarters on Nirauan, and a ceremonial presence on Bastion, everyone within the navy and out of it knew where the true power of the navy lay. Prefsbelt Command. Something the Admiral Regent had been especially eager to emphasise since succeeding Tyrell Praxxus in the role. The lambda-class shuttle delegated to Vice Admiral Tarsa Doon, streaked through the planetary space of Prefsbelt IV. What became immediately apparent was how bustling the space around the system was.
Cargo vessels both civilian and military lumbered around, under the watchful escort of thousands of TIE fighters. But perhaps most visceral was the appearance of the gargantuan, dagger-like NIV Tregessar. If the headquarters on Nirauan was basically a shell, and the Admiralty Complex on Bastion a mere formality, than the Tregessar was the true command centre of the navy. The focal point of a dozen or so incursions against the Sith Empire and her associated allies, the super star destroyer was flanked and surrounded by an escort of at least a dozen Star Destroyers, Battlecruisers and Cruisers. This before even counting the myriad of corvettes and frigates patrolling the perimeter of the vessels command structure.
The Lambda-Class shuttles comms buzzed with requests for clearances. Procedure and docking permissions. It was clear that Prefsbelt IV space was a very… secure region. With security check after security check before the shuttle could be delegated a landing pad. The primary ventral hangar of the Tregessar herself. The shuttle streaked through, passing beneath the watchful gaze of a dozen vessels, and wings of TIE models, buzzing the sector in either drills or perimeter patrols.
The hangar of the Tregessar, as they approached was busy itself. With soldiers, the infamous Prefsbelt Stossjaeger, arrayed in training drills, with naval personnel. But what was different was the uniforms. The New Imperial Order sought to emulate in aesthetic of its officers, the aged Galactic Empire. With its olive, tan and grey uniforms for naval commanders. The Prefsbelt Command however, emulated their former allegiance. With crisp black First Order style uniforms.
With the docking ramp extended, Tarsa was met by an ensign. “Vice Admiral Doon,” The ensign began, “The Admiral Regent would like to extend his sincerest thanks for answering this unanticipated invitation.” The ensign paused, bowing slightly, “If you would please follow me, I will take you to his offices.” The ensign turned heel, and began to escort Tarsa through the tangled web of corridors through the vessel. The super star destroyer was remarkably strict. Soldiers moved silently through it. There were no sounds of idle chatter, or any jokes being shared. It was almost a void unto its own. And the bits of conversation caught up on were formal. Discussions of repairs, and maintenance. When to conduct another series of drills etcetera. Tarsa was hardly noticed, although by those whom she was, she was given a cool glance, before the NCO’s and personnel returned to their labours.
Tarsa was lead through the vessels confines, and up to the city scape. Through the warrens and confines of communications centres, sensor arrays, and finally observation decks, to a waiting room. “Please,” The ensign began, “Take a seat,” She gestured to the myriad of lounges, “I will see if the Admiral Regent is in.” The ensign approached the door, knocked, and then entered. A bark of “Hail Rausgeber!” The door closed, leaving the Vice Admiral alone. Viewports showed off the fleet, and scores of TIE fighters streaking through the system. For about two minutes, the Vice Admiral was left alone, until the door unsealed. "The Admiral Regent will see you now." The ensign stood to attention, and then moved out of the way, allowing the Vice Admiral to enter the room.
What she entered was an office. Large, spacious. With one desk. The desk was enormous, with panelling. A holographic projector built in, as well as a box, hand crafted, and opened. Filled with cigars. But behind it, the Admiral Regent himself. Perhaps a little more youthful looking than most of the propaganda reels nominally featured. "Vice Admiral, a pleasure you could make it. Given I've drawn you all the way from the comfort of your command, to here." Rausgeber did not stand, but rather sat attentively at his desk. Behind him, he could see through all the traffic of Prefsbelt IV from the comfort of his viewport. A hand graciously gestured to a seat opposite him.
"Please Vice Admiral, sit down before you fall down."
