Hearing the Whispers - Golbah City [CIS]

[Spirit of Knowledge]

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The Citadel, Golbah City, Geonosis​

Betrayed.

The Viceroys had already been briefed on the situation. The former Minister of Secrets had been compromised so deeply that not just the Ministry but the whole of the Confederacy had taken a blow; stabbed in the back by the one who'd meant to be watching it. The previously small and quaint Confederate intelligence agency had suddenly come to the forefront of many a Confederate's thoughts, from its soldiers to its politicians. The Crucible was a danger from which few were safe.

The damage had already been done, and the consequences seemed to mount -- thus the Viceroyalty had been called for an emergency session to determine the future of the Ministry of Secrets. As the leaders and representatives of so many worlds streamed into their seats of the Spire, a single thought rested on their minds: Action had to be taken.

But as usual, the Vicelord was a step ahead.

One could not expect politicians to be well-versed in the ways of covert operations, nor how to manage an organization that was dedicated it. A new Minister had already been appointed, and this was likely the first many of the Confederacy would have ever seen or heard of the man. Perhaps that might arouse suspicion -- little had been known about the previous Minister of Secrets, and the outcome had taken a terrible toll on the Confederacy.

Today, the general would change their minds.

The doors at one end of the chamber opened and the new Minister stepped through. He didn't look like a soldier, though perhaps he was more of a spy -- his dark coat and teashades gave off an air of the leading man in a spy holofilm. His gait was smooth and graceful, gliding without pause towards the small chair and table located below the Viceroys, like a barrier between them and the sea of observers.

He hesitated briefly upon arriving at the table, as if studying it for a moment before sliding it out and taking his seat. The man took off his glasses, cold grey eyes sweeping the crowd. The Viceroyals selected to question the man took their seats, shifting forward slightly.

"Please state your name for the record."

"[member='Antoin Garrick']."

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[member="Darth Metus"]
[member="Srina Talon"]
[member="Adron Malvern"]
[member="Alessandra Creed"]
[member="Faye Malvern"]
[member="Rashae"]
[member="Caesar Kenway"]
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[member="Helly Reyne"]
[member="Chikako Liona"]
[member="Voph"]
[member="Jeb Belanger"]

 

[Faye Malvern]

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[member=Antoin Garrick]​

xxx​

More lies. More betrayal. More chaos.

Faye had found herself walking the corridors of the spire too often these past few weeks. Granted the next meeting in those hallowed halls couldn’t hold a candle to the one just passed, but it wasn’t enough to ease the weight from the Minister’s shoulders. Was she in the mood to interview a potential candidate for a role that, by nature alone, seethed treachery from its very pores? The short answer was no. Not in the slightest. The very idea of it burrowed into her skull till the pain was tangible, till it pulled the skin tight against her temple… but needs must. Working hard against the dejected begging of her heart to turn and leave the spire, Faye pressed on.

When the doors to her balcony swung open the Minister put on a mask. A mask she wore when the storm of vehemence was meant to stay secreted. Lingering just beyond was a world of politics, a world of twisted words spoken by twisted tongues. The moment she stepped through those doors a thousand faces would be made aware of her presence. Words would have to be formulated, questions asked and answered in kind. It was up to everyone on the other side of those doors to decide whether or not they were true.

At the present moment, Faye couldn’t cope, but the mask could.

Bright, artificial rays of white light danced across her skin as she crossed the short distance from the door to her chair. Viceroy had already begun to gather, but that wasn’t what her raven eyes gazed at. Instead, reflected in the dark coal pits, was the figure of a man Faye could not place. Tall, cold, grey. As much as she had expected from someone appointed to be the new Minister of Secrets. When he stated his name his voice matched his appearance in terms of mystery, no surprise to the Minister. Antoin Garrick.

Faye lent forward a margin in her seat, shifting the waves of soft silk with the almost imperceptible movement. ‘Antoin Garrick.’ She repeated the name in the same bird-like tone she always did, though it was amplified until it echoed across the chamber to reach him. ‘You are no doubt aware of the reasons for your predecessors… untimely disappearance. I do not doubt that I need to remind my fellow Ministers and the viceroy gathered here today about the betrayal we have all faced these few weeks gone by.’ Sun-kissed hands crossed over in her lap. Her expression held still, wearing the charming but faint smile she wore by default, giving not a hint of her distaste for the entire event away. The pause was purposeful. The Ministry of Secrets certainly didn’t beat around the bush when they tended to their business, and neither would Faye.

‘Why should we trust you?’

 

[Malcoma Hesse]

. . . Wearing: Confidence, velvet + fur . . .​

. . . Tags: [member="Faye Malvern"] | [member="Antoin Garrick"] . . .​

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With the end of Tira's Ministry, Malcoma thought best to watch over the conception of this Garrick's.

But, oh, what a drag.

When word had first made its way to Coruscant in the form of a Confederate handler walking into her lobby, worry sunk into her skin as the words her ears. The thick fog swirled about her company as well and, like an ocean liner on a resort world, Eve Escorts' business had ceased all operation in fear of colliding with the bureaucratic glacier of rebranding. Betrayed sharks smelled blood in the water all the easier, her line of work had taught Mal long ago, and the Escort's mafia history might been seen as the possibility for more.

In such, she had come all the way to Golbah City in hopes of jumping onto Antoin Garrick's ship on the right foot.

 

[Antoin Garrick]

| [member="Faye Malvern"] | [member="Malcoma Hesse"] |​

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"I suppose you shouldn't," Antoin began. Perhaps not the best way to begin a conversation about his trustworthiness. Then again, that was the best approach to take -- the Minister of Secrets, more than all the others, should be under scrutiny at all times, and considering how the last Minister of Secrets had acted during her tenure in the position it was doubtless that the Viceroyalty needed to be reminded of this. He did not wish for their bureaucracy and politics to hamper his ability to do his duty, but he respected that trust was needed for him to do as much. "That is why I am here today. To help establish that trust." A silly question, but perhaps a necessary one. Perhaps.

A little beating around the bush would be necessary to fool most of the Viceroyals. Even so, Antoin was interested in the Minister's thought process. His dark eyes held hers for a moment, as if a sort of link of understanding had been established between the two, if only for a moment. Antoin continued, knowing such a short answer might not yet be satisfactory for the gathered peoples. "I do not intend to simply establish trust from a Minister to the Confederacy, but also of the Minister to the Ministry and of the Ministry to the Confederacy. The identity of the previous Minister had not even been known by the majority of the agents under her command, and that is simply unacceptable. My tenure as a general in the Confederate Defense Force has taught me this much: If the soldier does not know his officer, how will he know to listen to him? If the soldier does not know the country he fights for, how can he deem what is right for his country?"

He wondered for a moment how many in this crowd had heard of him before today. Likely, not many. His rank had been quietly given to him -- there had barely been a ceremony. But it had been necessary to keep things quiet considering the Special Forces unit he had been assigned to was something to be kept quiet. It might not even have been listed in the report that had been given to the Viceroys. It didn't much matter what had happened in the past, though; Antoin's vision for the future was paramount. He intended to change the Confederacy's intelligence agency deeply. It needed that change if it were to serve the Confederacy effectively, unlike what it appeared to currently be doing.

He hoped it would not twist him quite like the others.

 

[Saabossi]

That had been quite an interesting alert sent out to her. These new contacts of hers, this 'Ministry' that she had herself a contract so to speak, were getting a new leader. This Saabossi had to see. Curiosity got the better of her. Snaking through corridors, keeping only to herself, the Sluissi made her way to where this meeting was taking place. She had no words in mind to speak, only with the intention of witnessing this occasion.

Saabossi had recently become one with this Ministry of Secrets as an assassin, perhaps this was more than some simple contract. But that never distracted her from her love of killing a target from afar. They had their targets, they pointed them out. That was fair enough for her. A quiet hiss escaped her upon arrival, the slow sound of her skin against floor, while slithering inside.

Immediately her gaze settled upon the new Minister. Or soon to be Minister. She did not know. Regarding him with a look of silence, examining every feature in sight. Almost like that of a surgeon, slowly picking at them with her gaze. Listening...only listening to this meeting.

[member="Antoin Garrick"] [member="Malcoma Hesse"] [member="Faye Malvern"] [member="Eternal Paragon"]