The Spacepiress of Chaos
P A P E R W O R K
Vicereine Hill, Theed, Naboo
Naval Command, Office of the Grand Marshal
Confederacy of Independent Systems
The contrast of the two Planets was striking, to say the least, and in turn, it had taken some time to become accustomed to the new surroundings. Going from the sand-swept Deserts and Mesas that were often dotted with any number of Hives, to the peaceful rolling Hills, grass-covered Plains, and temperate Swamps was rather mind jarring. It would take time to become acquainted with these surroundings, a fact that she had already been attempting as seen in one of her recent forays into the City of Theed where she had found herself watching a rather intriguing display in a bar taking place between a number of Confederates and a rather broody and emotional teenager. At least she had thought the individual a teenager at the time, though she could just as easily be wrong. The officer that she found herself in was somewhat larger and more well-furnished than the last - then again, she hadn't spent much time in her previous office on Geonosis - though she hadn't had the time in most cases, and even then she'd just barely gotten through the paperwork that had stacked up before the Capital was moved to Naboo.
Now she found herself once more looking at a stack of requisitions, transfer requests, and all manner of support requests, expense reports, and even for whatever reason it had come across her desk, leave forms. She thought that she had a staff for all of this, yet, apparently, they had either not settled in or they just hadn't done their due diligence in screening through the paperwork and just dumped the stack on her desk. With a heavy sigh, she slowly pulled the first form - which so happened to be a requisition form - from the top of the stack. As she began to carefully read through the items, she found her fingers lightly pressing and rubbing against her temple as she attempted to make it through yet another outlandish request for the Bassardo Armada.
"I know the perfect place for this form."
Amelia spoke the words into existence as she pulled herself up out of her seat and made her way across the room to a shredder that sat neatly behind her desk. Carefully placing the form into the receiving end, she listened as it whirred into existence and tore the flimsiplast sheet into thin shreds. However, she did not feel that was enough to remove the memory of the requisition from her mind and promptly removed the shredded pieces from the receptacle that sat below. Truth be told she could have just moved onto the next form, though she felt a need to destroy the words that had been committed to the sheet - as she had lost count of how many times that a margarita machine had been requisitioned for the Bassadro Sector's Armada. Piece by piece she ran the strips back through the shredder, only to once more gather up the now nearly minuscule pieces. With a quiet resolve burning in her heart, Amelia walked over to the fireplace in the office and promptly emptied the receptacle bin into the fireplace - watching for a moment as the flames consumed the pieces of flimsiplast.
"I'm done for the day."
She spoke to herself before setting the receptacle off to the side, making a mental note to return it back into its proper place beneath the shredder - though that likely wouldn't happen for some time until after a neat pile of shredded material had accumulated on the ground beneath the machine. Yet, that was a problem for the future Amelia to deal with, not the current one who was now beginning to nurse a headache from the sheer amount of paperwork that had once more accumulated in her office. Still, she had found this office much more relaxing and preferred it over the older one - as seen when she was capable of opening the doors out onto the balcony without the worry of a sandstorm or the cacophony of noise from the streets below pouring into the room. The night was rather still, save for a stiff breeze that wound itself around the various buildings in the newly constructed Vicereine Hill - and achievement that was rather monumental in and of itself in how quickly the new section of Theed had been established.
From where she stood on the balcony, her golden-yellow hues fell upon a structure that dominated the skyline not too far from the office, the new hall in which the Viceroyalty gathered and debated. Back on Geonosis, she had attended a handful of such meetings, and each time she seemingly grew dull with the proceedings in rapid time. For the woman that was more comfortable in armor and on the bridge of a vessel, the meeting hall of government was something much more difficult to stomach. She was often amazed that her youngest was capable of sitting in on those events - though she also did her best to keep an arm's length away from Imperia when she could. It would not serve her youngest well if the citizenry - or her fellow Viceroys - thought that the young woman got preferential treatment or was giving it in kind to the Grand Marshal. None the less, Amelia was proud of her daughters, even last one of them no matter the endeavor, trial, tribulation, or hardship that they found themselves embroiled in - she did her part in stepping back and allowing them to handle it without her swooping in to save the day as it were.
There were times though where she worried for her daughters, and not just them, for many of their kind. How long could they keep subsisting in a galaxy that was ever-changing - and with a monstrous horde like the Bryn'adul rampaging across the galaxy, how long until the common citizens began seeing monsters in every shadow and corner. She was lucky, it seemed that the Confederacy accept or at least for the moment tolerated her kind - as evident that she still had a job as the Grand Marshal of Naval Command. Though it seemed that once again, the galaxy was changing and whether it was for better or worst, was still difficult to say. As she leaned forward, her arms resting on the balcony railing to prop herself up, she thought on the future of the Confederacy, her place in it, and its general direction. How much longer could she maintain this position? Was there something beyond being a Grand Marshal, or would she find herself once more a High Marshal - replaced with someone else that took up the mantle, or perhaps she'd merely be shuffled off into some far corner to be forgotten about?
While she never really slept much - as she felt she'd slumbered enough during those lengthy hibernations - she was still kept awake by those thoughts. Just where was she going and how was she getting there? Would the Confederacy one day see her as a threat once more and turn against her - or would they tire of her little side project and rid themselves of the Hellknight's presence? Though truth be told, the Hellknights hadn't expanded in some time, seemingly more content and focused upon Trendivar and looking towards Wild Space while the Confederacy looked in a separate direction. Perhaps then that was the key to ensuring their survival, to keep a wary eye on Wild Space while also assisting in securing the Western Reaches. After all, with the Outer Planets Alliance having imploded not that long ago - a number of local warlords, criminal organizations, and cults had apparently popped up in its place in an attempt to take advantage of the power vacuum that had developed in the region.
Amelia had already known that the Vicelord
Darth Metus
had shifted his focus on this region, and plans were already being drawn up to quickly secure and bring the systems into the fold of the Confederacy. Though the political landscape of the map was always in a constant flux of change, and what she saw, she couldn't agree upon as being the proper course. Slowly rising from the balcony railing, she took a moment to stretch and admire the skyline before finding her way back inside, the office still taking some getting used to as she carefully scanned her surroundings before finding what she had been looking for. Making her way to the large table that dominated the central area of the office near the fireplace, she activated the holographic projector that had been carefully and skillfully crafted into the table before stepping away towards one of the handfuls of bookshelves that lined the room.
Darth Metus
had shifted his focus on this region, and plans were already being drawn up to quickly secure and bring the systems into the fold of the Confederacy. Though the political landscape of the map was always in a constant flux of change, and what she saw, she couldn't agree upon as being the proper course. Slowly rising from the balcony railing, she took a moment to stretch and admire the skyline before finding her way back inside, the office still taking some getting used to as she carefully scanned her surroundings before finding what she had been looking for. Making her way to the large table that dominated the central area of the office near the fireplace, she activated the holographic projector that had been carefully and skillfully crafted into the table before stepping away towards one of the handfuls of bookshelves that lined the room.
Carefully pressing one of the false books in, the shelf slowly rotated until a myriad of drinks had been revealed, their various decanters, carafes, and bottles - as well as a variety of glassware, each for their own purpose and uses depending on the exact libation currently being enjoyed. For her part, she was focusing on an old favorite, with a careful and firm grasp lifting both a crystalline decanter and a crystalline glass from their resting place and walking them over to the table. As she set the glass down and began to pour her drink, she carefully spoke a few words towards the map.
"Galactic Scale, Confederacy of Independent Systems and immediate surroundings. Current borders overlaid with changing borders and exclusion zones."
Her attention did not yet shift from the careful pouring of her beverage, even as the map was pulled up and projected before her - bathing the room in a soft blue hue. Once she was satisfied with the drink that she had prepared for herself, she carefully set the decanter down and secured the stopper in place before looking up at the map. A soft sigh slipped from her lips as she gently cradled the glass in her hand, allowing the stem to rest between her middle finger and ring finger for a more comfortable grip as the curvature of the crystalline structure sat within the grip of her palm. Her golden-yellow hues carefully studied the map, noticing that the changes were coming would be subtle in some cases and much more pronounced in others. For now, she knew that the Confederacy was conceding a system that had been hard fought for on a handful of occasions - and it was a concession of Diplomacy that she did not agree with. Though she had not been there during the incident, she had known of the plague that had been unleashed on Atrisia, and the simple fact that the Confederacy was now willingly handing it over to the Galactic Alliance after having lost and sacrificed so many Confederates on the planet's surface was a maddening proposition to her. Though she was not a Diplomat or a Beuracrat, she was a soldier and it was a choice that was completely out of her hands. All that she did know and understand, was that there would come a time when the Galactic Alliance would fall, and the Confederacy would once more being wasting resources to bring Atrisia into the fold - yet, that was a possibility for a far distant future, and not one for her to worry over at that moment.
The primary focus that the Confederacy - or at least what she felt was a priority - was the Bryn'adul, and apparently, it was a threat that had the potential to bring together some of the oldest and fiercest of enemies to face such a Horde of monstrous locomotion that seemed poised to consume all that it could in the Galaxy as the Vong had attempted in eons passed. Though it would be a miracle if the Confederacy were capable of bringing the Sith and the Jedi to the table - there had apparently been some special news broadcast that claimed such a thing via the leaking of information from the Silver Concord - yet, it was still difficult to believe, and even Amelia chose to look at it with healthy skepticism. If the Confederacy found themselves embroiled in a new conflict out of its borders beyond expansion - and once more seeking to be the protector of the Galaxy, it would fly in the face of the Confederacy First Mandate - though perhaps this was a worthy enough endeavor to set aside that legislation, if it meant ensuring that the Confederacy could safely look away from the Nothern-Frontiers of their territory to focus on the Western Approaches.
It was that region though - the area formerly held by the Outer Planets Alliance - that had drawn her attention and focus. The region was one in which the common denizens did their best to survive, whilst threats of all kinds seemingly began to rise up once more. There had even been reports of a newly resurgent First Order mobilizing from the deepest reaches of the Outer Rim Territories - however, it was still difficult to confirm those reports. If they were true though, it seemed likely that the Confederacy would once more have another potential enemy that would seek to strike out against it - not to mention the Eternal Empire that still sat in its corner. There would come a time when they would clash, she was certain of that, however, even she understood that such a time was further away. Preparations - so she thought - would need to be made for any such endeavor on the Confederacy's part - be it further expansion or conflict - they needed to be ready.
Without a doubt, there were plans for these regions - and it went without saying that everyone from the Vicelord to the Viceroyalty had their own designs on the area - even Amelia had planets that she desired to focus upon for one reason or another. Be they stagging points for further expansion, strongholds to stand as bulwarks against threats that would strike from the deeper regions of the territories, or for the expansion of her own corporation - a number of planets and their systems were tantalizing prospects. Key among them was Terminus, a system that was resting between the junction of the Hydian Way and Corellian Trade Spine - it could prove to be a region of great importance and tactical dominance for the Confederacy to hold. Holding that world meant controlling the flow of traffic from the Outer Rim Territories into the Greater Galaxy - while also providing a stepping off point for exploration and expansion into those further systems.
Yet, there were still other planets that could serve their own important purpose for the efforts of the Confederacy. Sulis Van and Mustafar for instance - one a manufacturing giant amount the Outer Rim Territories, the other a resource-rich planet that could serve the Confederacy as a repository of raw wealth as Mygetto did for the Banking Clan. However, there was one planet in particular that Amelia was rather keen on ensuring fell within the Domain of the Confederacy.
"Bring up Kal'Shebbol, at the terminus of the Rimma Trade Route in the Kathol Sector".
With a momentary flicker, the map shifted, slowly pulling away from the Confederacy and the surrounding area further south to the region in which the planet rested. The Kathol Sector - also known as the Kathol Outback - was a rough region of space that few managed to properly navigate - yet it seemed that the Outer Planets Alliance managed to do just that. However, it wasn't the difficulty in getting to the planet or even accessing it that had interested Amelia. Rather, it was what the planet represented. Even though the Hellknights now called Trendivar their home, it hadn't always been that way, and it was a simple fact that Amelia remembered and understood. The Hellknight Corps was older than what it presented - in fact - it had gone through a number of iterations over the years, both after and prior to the organization settling in her command. In the near-distant past, they had been known by another name. Once, they were the Knights of Kal'Shebbol, founded by a man named Tasgetius - and she was sure that their original fortress remained hidden in the Mountains of that planet - perhaps untouched by the Outer Planet Alliance or the denizens of the planet itself. She hoped that the ancient home had remained overlooked, forgotten, and overlooked after it had fallen ages ago in a conflict that had seemingly been forgotten now. Though that seemed to be the history of the Kathol Outback, a history of mystery and conflicts forgotten over time.
Slowly bringing her glass to her lips, Amelia took a sip of the sanguine ichor, enjoying its taste all the while carefully studying the map. The question that presented itself, and now remained, was how to ensure that the Confederacy secured the planet before others could. She merely couldn't demand that the Confederacy make a beeline drive towards the planet for her own personal goals and advancement - nor could she focus resources and allocate material for such a rapid campaign, not when the Confederacy had its own plans in regards to their expansion.
"It is quite the dilemma."
Amelia spoke to herself, pondering on the exact means to achieve the goal that she was setting before herself. There were a number of systems that lay between the Confederacy and Kal'Shebbol, and each would have to be brought into the fold first before she could focus on what she sought as her ultimate prize - a reclamation of the planet for the Hellknight Corps. For the Corps itself to return to what was in effect its ancestral roots - perhaps then she could draw more to the cause that it stood for - Bringing Order to the Chaos. For now, though there were other systems that the Confederacy would be focused upon - and it was those systems that would serve to further ensure that the Confederacy would continue to expand into the region formerly held by the Outer Planet Alliance.
"Kriselist and Naalol. They seem like a reasonable expansion after the Confederacy holds Copperline. Though it would ensure that the Confederacy would bring Nkllon and its resources into the fold, it would also place us closer to striking distance with the Eternal Empire. However, Skynara, Reuss VIII, and Elshandruu Pica would also be suitable and logical vectors for expansion."
Taking another, long-drawn-out sip from her glass, she kept her eyes focused upon the map, even as the sanguine ichor slowly slipped down her throat, the taste exquisite as always to the woman as she permitted herself a moment to savor and enjoy the experience. For the briefest of time, she permitted her eyes to slip close as she thought about the future and the potential expansion that the Confederacy would begin. Though there were other thoughts and memories that rose up - and perhaps it was time to find something more relaxing. Could she really settle down? Hang her cape on the proverbial mantle and allow someone else to carry the burden of the Grand Marshal. It was an intriguing sentiment, though she was sure that she wasn't ready - at least not yet - to give up that position. She felt that there were still a good few battles left in her as well as victories that she felt she could snatch from the jaws of defeat. Perhaps though that is where she would ultimately find her end, on a bridge as the vessel tore itself asunder around her in its final moments. Was she ultimately destined to pass in the fires of combat like so many others had, or would she be granted some modicum of normality and be permitted to pass in her sleep at an old age. No, those were not thoughts to be entertained at the moment, at least not now - for they could wait for their own turn.
As she took a step back, it went without saying that everything she spoke was merely a hypothetical, a possibility in terms of planning that the Confederacy could ultimately take. She did not expect any action from anything she mused and birthed into existence in words. Nor did she expect any to make entry into her office and seek her console on the direction for the Confederacy to take. Rather she was content with being an instrument, a tool that the Vicelord pointed towards others and told to unleash hell. In fact, it was thought that time and time again brought a devilish grin to her lips - even more so when she remembered those few scant times in which such a command was given. Her most cherished and memorable of those times was above Eshan - when the Confederacy stepped forward to put an end to the Mandalorians that sought to enact genocide upon the Echani people. The brilliant flashes of the Thermonuclear Warheads would still play in her mind from time to time as she remembered those events - and it instilled in herself an everlasting disgust in a number of Mandalorians save a few that remained among the Confederacy.
Turning her attention away from the map, she once more focused on slowly refilling her glass. Slender fingers wrapped around the decanter as she carefully freed its stopper from the neck of the vessel. Though it was not wine persay, she still permitted the sanguine ichor to act as such, giving it a moment to breathe before she carefully poured out another leveled amount into her waiting glass. That seemed to be the course that the night was taking, the Grand Marshal quitely contemplating the future of the Confederacy in her office while enjoying a drink. Though a bit of company would be welcomed, she still found the bright moments in being able to sit alone and not worry about hosting or providing an experience to a guest. The night was still young though, and perhaps she would find herself with a companion yet. For now, she would permit such thoughts to waste away, slipping into the shadows as she returned to her drink - yet did not return to the map or paperwork just yet. No, she wanted to enjoy the night air of Naboo, something that she had become accustomed to being able to do such - even having found herself a lovely little homestead hidden away in the Lake Country.
As she drew herself out once more unto the Balcony, she looked up to admire the stars, though lamented that they were not as bright here as they were in the countryside. After all, the brighter lights of the city seemed to make such an endeavor a bit trickier - though she did not mind. Finding herself a comfortable seat, she slipped down quietly, setting her glass down on an end table next to her to permit her the freedom of her hands. Leaning back a bit more, she closed her eyes for but a moment, resting them and resetting herself. She did not want to worry much about the future, as the present still had its own problems to be solved and planned for. In the distance, even on such a still night, she could hear the noise of the locals, the bars surely filled with those enjoying and living their lives. Every now and then a soft breeze would waft the scent of the night into her presence, bringing with it the smells of alcohol, food, and merriment. For her own part these were things that while she would enjoy them, she felt that it was not an appropriate time.
It had not been long ago she was in one of those very bars - and perhaps it was best that she did not become a frequent visitor for such a location - for it would not serve her in any capacity to have those service members tensing with each time she entered through the door. No, tonight she would allow them to enjoy themselves without fear as to why she had found herself in the very same bar - preferring to, for at least that night, delve into the depths of ichor on her own and enjoy the pleasantries that she received from such a private endeavor. As if to exclaim upon this thought, she had once again slipped her hand carefully around the crystalline glass and brought it to her lips, her golden-yellow hues peering over the rim of the glass as she imbibed the strange liquid - though, for her, it was a necessity. She often thought how one might react when they knew what her drink of choice was - though those thoughts often found themselves pushed to the back of her mind, for it shouldn't really matter, should it?
"Such a lovely night, and one to be enjoyed. The stillness is adequate, though the fair breeze is a welcomed companion. The stars are bright in the heavens, and the denizens are merry in their drinks. None fear for tomorrow, or what death might bring."
She seemed to somewhat quietly whisper the words to herself as if she were singing though not wanting to overhear that there was another facet to the Grand Marshal. She always came across as cold and endearing, though that was by design. She had lived for so long that she had lost just as many loved ones as she had soldiers under her command. She had grown cold in the following thousands of years - the epochs of hibernation did not seem to assist in dulling that coldness or warming her heart either. There had been a few times since though she found herself caring once more - though even then those individuals found their own happiness or seemingly disappeared from her life. She could not blame them, however, and often she wonders how their lives had turned out or would have been different had they been free of her - yet such thoughts would not be permitted to remain as she pushed them further back.
Perhaps though there could be a change coming, though it was one that was still upon the horizon. As she imbibed her beverage of choice, she found herself pulling herself to her feet and once more settling at the railing of the balcony. Her attention carefully swept over the skyline again, and she mused about the continued endeavors of the Viceroyalty - yet, there was still work to be done on her part and seemingly it was her own thoughts and possibilities that she poised quietly to the galaxy that brought her back to attention. Standing up straight and dusting herself up as she set the glass down on the railing, she turned back towards the office and once more stepped inside. Golden-yellow hues swept over the facade before once more settling upon the stack of forms that rest on the edge of her desk, a daunting task in its own right, though a task that needed completing none-the-less. Steeling herself as she took that first step, she found her movement graceful and fluid as she seemingly glided across the room before once again settling into the chair.
Amelia was seemingly right back where she had started earlier in the evening after her bout of procrastination, sitting behind her desk as her slender fingers lightly grasped the next form - and without much surprise, it was seemingly from the Bassadro Armada. With another heavy sigh - and a headache seeming to brew that would push her into procrastination once more, she found herself working through the form, though for the moment it was merely set aside - not relegated to the shredder and fire as the previous form had. Though in short order it would be met by another form as Amelia began to carefully dig her way through the pile that had been unceremoniously stacked there - likely sometime the night before. Surprisingly enough, the majority of the forms were sensible - though she hadn't read through them all just yet, merely separated them into various stacks to better control the flow of information and prioritize the more important needs and requests that had come to her. Yet, part of her wondered why she didn't merely kick it up to the Office of the Minister of War - as she was sure a fair few of these reports, forms, and requests could have easily found their way to his desk.
No, Amelia would not pass the credit just as easily as that. There had been times where she let it pile up, and like now, spent an evening digging through it all and getting it sent out in short order - and it seemed that would be the bulk of her night once more. Once she had the piles separated and organized into smaller, more manageable stacks, she slipped from her seat for a brief reprieve. Finding herself before the large, cabinet of drinks that awaited her, she carefully mulled over which would be the best drink to enjoy while attempting to finally catch up on the paperwork - what would be the best drink to have waiting should a guest arrive without calling? Either way, she would need to focus, nothing too exotic or exquisite that could distract her - which ultimately saw her settling for a rather common blend that she was fond of enjoying.
With yet another glass of sanguine ichor poured, and her mind focuses on what she had to complete set out before her - Amelia returned to the desk and resumed her seated position. Leaning back slowly into her seat, she cupped the glass in one hand as the other carefully plucked another sheet of flimsiplast from its waiting stack. She would do her best to give each report and form the detailed attention that it deserved, yet, there seemed to be a fair few that were just rambling and at times incoherent in what they were attempting to attain. In those instances, they found themselves quickly filed away into the shredder - and in short order, she had a somewhat sizeable pile that had gathered beneath the machine. Its rhythmic whirring and near-constant feeding could have been its own form of music - and she didn't doubt that it likely already was given that Jizz did exist and was quite often played by a few popular Bith bands in a number of Cantinas.
Attention refocused on the task at hand, she pushed all other thoughts from her mind - though from time to time she would still look up, her attention drawn away from the waiting stacks of paper. The flickering hologram of the Galaxy waiting at the far meeting table, slowly rotating, awaiting her or perhaps another to once more pay it mind in that quiet, still night.
Chaos NaNo: 5,174
Last edited:
