Bending The [Proverbial] Knee

[Robogeber]

Fleet Admiral Carlyle Rausgeber, or more accurately, the droid which purported to be the Fleet Admiral, sat in glowering silence within the confines of his shuttle. Across from him, Commodore Beckett, his FOSB handler, and overarching irritant played with his datapad, probably analysing the droid. The man had no tact, and it was obvious what he was doing.

Carlyle hated this feeling. That he was some kind of experiment. All it did was anger him. Infuriate the officer to no end. However, at the moment he was trapped in this limbo. Which he hoped would end soon. But then again, those who found themselves relying on the whim of Supreme Commander Graush were often deluded, desperate and more than likely soon to be found dead.

Rausgeber fell into the last two categories. Desperate, and simultaneously dead. Something which presented something of legal ambiguity. And although he expressed some confidence in his ability to persuade the Sith to his point of view, the officer nonetheless remained terrified of the man. Which was perhaps why he now projected his anger, into an internalised anxiety, projected once again at the younger commodore who idly tapped at the datapad.
The static-filled comms from the shuttles cockpit stopped the silence. "You've appeared on our screen now, please identify." An authoritative voice commanded.

"Shuttle ST-345, Express." The pilot replied over the comms frequency, "Requesting hangar bay access, for package. Codename Imperator." There was a distinct pause which Carlyle listened to, with some trepedation. Was this perhaps some attempt to kill him. Would the Supreme Commander destroy the shuttle, and perhaps then blame it on some accident. The droid waited with baited breath.

"Shuttle Express, please transmit your clearance code for security." The voice replied. The sound of datapads being tapped on and switches flicked was all Carlyle could hear.

"Transmitting now."

"Shuttle Express, you are cleared for landing. Proceed to the ventral hangar, bay three." The voice replied. Rausgeber leaned forward, to see the blood red nebula. First Order vessels clung around its edge, from frigates all the way to mighty vanquisher-class destroyers. All surrounded the mighty Tsawak iv Typhojem. It was a little exuberant, at least in Carlyle's processors mind.

The ship did not seemed too concerned with any feasible military strategy, but more so aesthetics. And aesthetically pleasing it was. The green neon glow expressed a ghostly visage for the vessel. The droid leaned back in its seat, and listened as the shuttle slowed down for its approach. It heard the shuttle entering the vessels airlock, and the extension of the landing gear.

Commodore Beckett was the first to stand, "We should get a move on." Beckett said, standing before the droid and offering a hand. Rausgeber begrudgingly accepted it, and stood before the younger man,

"Yes." He bitterly mused, beginning to hover towards the upsilon-class shuttles docking ramp. Fear now began to fill the droid. It was time to see if the Supreme Commander were at all appreciable to his situation.
[member="Asharad Graush"]

 

[Asharad Graush]

The Tsawak iv Typhojem sat close to the edge of Order Space.

Within the Nebula was a secret base that was training a branch of the military that was invisible to the majority of the Order's government, very few knew of their existence, or rather, their soon to be existence. When [member="Robogeber"]'s shuttle appeared in the system and was then on its way to the Typhojem, Graush was alerted, and when that occurred, the Sith Lord marched from his private quarters to the Bridge.

While the dead man was escorted through the ship, on the restricted path he would've seen a plethora of aliens, primarily crimson in skin pigmentation, the amount of times Rausgeber and his escort would've come across marching squads of troopers, garbed in black with an odd symbol on their shoulders, its only similarity to the First Order's own was its colouring of redwas much more than many, if not any other ship in the First Order's armada.

If the man was smart, since he must've been having succeeded in making it to Fleet Admiral, he'd be able to tell the ship had a single purpose, and that was War.

If he were smarter, he would question why the ship hadn't seen action.

But, that wasn't important anymore, for now he had made it to the Bridge, dozens of crewmen at work, like any bridge there was the low murmur of conversation and reports being made. At the end of the walkway was the Sith Lord, helmeted visage looking out towards the Red Nebula. When he spotted his guest in the transparisteel reflection, he lowly muttered to himself, "So the rumours are true... From flesh and blood, to artificial creation." His gaze drifted down to the basic metals of his cybernetic hand before he clenched it.

"So this is the droid that proclaims itself to be Admiral Rausgeber," he said. He wasn't talking to himself this time.

"Tell me, why were you created?"

 

[Robogeber]

Commodore Beckett could barely hide his disgust as the duo were escorted by guards to the bridge of the ornate vessel. Rausgeber quietly considered the aliens which served aboard the vessel, and their slight variations in symbols. Some of which, his advanced databank could not decipher. However, the Fleet Admiral decided he needn't concern himself with such matters. He considered these beasts some form of experiment. Perhaps to create an advanced special forces unit. Or even slaves, bonded to the Supreme Commanders will.

But the droid of course kept such observations to himself. As they entered the bridge, Beckett took the lead, and stood between the Fleet Admiral. Both stood rigid in posture. For the droid body, it came naturally. For Beckett, it came out of fear. "Supreme Commander, yes, this is the droid you seek." The young, ambitious officer began, answering the question before Rausgeber could get a word edge wise. The Commodore, whose face was drained a pale white out of a sense of palpable fear, began to stammer, "The droid was created my lord, t-t-"

The elegant hum of the repulsorlift propelling itself forward, breezed the droid body past Beckett. "I was created my lord," The droid began, the hologaphic projected eyes now matched with Graush's face, "By the late Fleet Admiral to ensure that his legacy could continue." The droid said, "To safeguard his future. His memory. His will. And by virtue of that, the Empire and Supreme Leader we both serve." The droid informed Graush, in a polite, yet even tone. The automaton betrayed no emotion. Bar the intense gaze which settled upon the Sith.

[member="Asharad Graush"]

 

[Asharad Graush]

"Save me the verbatim speech of loyalty and servitude." The Sith Lord said as he turned about to face the ghostly figure before him, both of his hands clasped behind his back.

This man can cheat death?

Nonsense.

Rausgeber had not been a man to instill fear into the Supreme Commander. Not in the past on their handful of interactions, and he certainly hadn't been the sort to impress upon him a large intellect, and yet, he was delusional enough to believe his life mattered in the grand scheme of things, that, he was the safeguard for both the Order and the Supreme Leader.

Curious.

Perhaps he was.

And yet, the sole fact that Graush wasn't capable of sensing the mans intentions, or feelings, wasn't able to actually... Harm him, was... Disconcerting.

Little more than a droid.

"Commodore," he said, "You can wait on your shuttle." Turning back to his real guest and seemingly forgetting the existence of the Beckett, he continued on to say to Rausgeber, "Who knows of your existence?"

Of course, he had read the reports. Beyond Calgar, he doubted the man would've passed it on to the Grand Moff just yet. Head of the Security Bureau, chances were he knew of this encounter between the two. But, beyond him and perhaps a handful of others, the Sith Lord knew not. "What was the goal for coming here today? To have your rank restored?" The Sith Lord walked around the floating figure slowly, almost appraising it. He could extinguish Rausgeber's life in a heartbeat, but how many other droids with his consciousness existed? A pointless endeavour no doubt. "To be legitimized in the Navy once more?"

Graush's own reservations for majority of the Navy likely wasn't known, though it could be suspected. Rarely did he have communication with them, though in turn, their Grand Admirals rarely sought after him. Were it so that he could purge the entirety of the Navy and start afresh. But, experience would be required in the coming days. Golden orbs focused more on the droid.

[member="Robogeber"]

 

[Robogeber]

"Milord, are you-" Beckett's self importance came to the realisation that perhaps it was better for his career that he didn't argue with a Sith. The officer bowed his head, "My apologies." The officer grovelled, before standing, and turning a full one hundred and eighty degrees, marching briskly from the bridge, the sound of his boots clattering on the durasteel floor.
Rausgeber allowed himself a small smirk, as Beckett began to walk from the chamber. However, Graush's continued questioning returned the droids face to one of neutrality. "There are but a handful who know of this." Rausgeber informed the military leader, "The FOSB team whom found me, and tested me. Moff Calgar of course being apart of that." The droid elaborated. "There is one other. Commander Morro. Tamm'orr'nuruodo." He said, "A Chiss, one of my personal protegees."

The droid paused, it would rather not be dishonest with a man whom controlled his future. "Rausgeber stipulated a small request, a caveat in his programming of me." The droid continued, "Commander Morro fulfilled that duty." The droid continued , a matter of factly, before resting. The Sith needn't know the intricacies of Rausgeber's commands, or the wishes of a dead man.
[member="Asharad Graush"]

 

[Asharad Graush]

Nodding at the confirmation of who knew of the deceased Admiral's construct, the Sith Lord resisted the urge to let out a sigh. Time was catching up with him he felt, and he had the yearning to be elsewhere.

"Commander Morro." He said softly. "I'm aware of your... Protegee." He said, the sulfuric orbs behind his mask glowing brightly. Whether it was in irritation, amusement, or mere recognition of the Officer, he would never know. Rolling his broad shoulders back, he looked as if he might strike down the being as he unclasped his hands from behind his back, but instead, he beckoned [member="Robogeber"] to follow.

"Whether you are who you say you are, or not, your experience will be needed in the coming days." They departed from the Bridge and the Sith Lord nodded to his second, Captain Atrisha, a crimson skinned woman, he said, "Prime the hyperdrive." And then they were gone.

Walking down the corridor, he said to the robot, "I'm approving you for active duty, Fleet Admiral." Blinking. "I hear you've fashioned Barkhesh as your Fleet's HeadQuarters," he shot a look over at him. "Muster your forces. You'll receive additional orders from me. Understood?"