The Spacepiress of Chaos
G R E E T I N G S
LAKE COUNTRY - NABOO
The Confederacy of Independent Systems had entered an interregnum between the administration of the previous Vicelord
Daegon Corvinus
and the newly rechristened Vicelord
Darth Metus
, many things within the Confederacy were changing or in the process thereof, or having yet to transition. In this moment, this small period of calm in the turmoil that came with the transition from one administration to the next; provided a moment to come to terms with the situation and the changes that were coming. The failures at Rhand had seen the previous Minister of Defense resign their position and apparently flee from the Confederacy to Imperial space, the individual having no qualms going to those that had taken their own stance in regards to the Vicelord's religious and spiritual alignments. Either way, it mattered not to the woman, her duty would remain and it was that very duty that saw her - at the behest of Isley Verd himself - brought her from retirement and back to a position she was all too familiar with. Like many things within the Confederacy, even the military had been shaken up and reorganized - with the position of Grand Marshal now a ceremonial and diplomatic position than anything else. Still, she was placed once more upon the command of the Capital Sector; incorporating many previous Sectors, even the sectors themselves had been reorganized, with four now existing rather than the previous half-dozen or more. Each of these Sectors now hosted their own High Marshal, and General respectively - with each individual serving as the direct commander of their individual Sector. It would of course lead to its own developments, as each Sector was not a mirror copy of the others, for what would work in the Capital Sector would not necessarily be the same in the Seswenna. It was for this very reason that the woman had thought to call a meeting, to bring together the four individuals that held their titles and sit down in a more relaxed and informal setting. The cottage had been left untouched since the time when the woman herself had resigned from the position of Grand Marshal - though not out of disgrace or failure; out of solidarity with those that resigned rather than serve under the Minister of Defense that had been granted the mantle. That was many years ago at this point, and now it was best left in the past rather than drugged up and dwelt upon, even more so given the current state of those individuals involved and where they now stood upon the Galactic Stage.
There had been little need to clean up, the coverings and the droids that had prior shut the home had done their jobs and kept the furnishings protected. Even the facade of the building and its grounds had been tended to in the absence of any individual claiming the home as their own. The cottage was just as beautiful as the woman remembered it prior to her leaving for locations elsewhere; to see it in the shape that it was in bringing warmth to her heart. With the sun having barely crest the horizon and twilight setting in, the home was ready to play host to its newest guests as well as welcome back its owner and original denizen. Slender fingers slowly ran along the door frame as she crossed the threshold, taking a moment to admire the beauty of the structure as though it was the first time she was seeing the home - and in many ways, it was in an odd turnabout. Slipping her hands into the pockets of her coat, she had decided on a more informal attire rather than something like ceremonial armor or the annoying dress uniforms of their position. She had even ensured to inform the others that dressing up wasn't needed unless that was their preference; her own would be to remain comfortable during these talks to mitigate any discomfort if they ran into the late hours of the night.
Approaching the drink cabinet that was tucked away in the corner of the study, she had ensured that the droids brought in fresh refreshments to replace anything that may have spoiled or gone to vinegar in her absence; wanting to ensure that a drink of choice was available to any that arrived. For her own tastes, she even had the preferred beverage of her species; the sanguine liquid resting comfortably within a crystalline vessel that seemed to reflect the light of the room when the doors to the cabinet were open. Carefully grasping the vessel with one hand, her other slipped the stem of a wine glass between her middle and ring finger as she brought herself from the study out to the veranda. The seats had been dusted off and the cushions cleaned - everything was in its proper place where she had remembered them being. As she slipped down into the seat, her golden-yellow hues fell upon the singular drive that lead up from a grove of trees and stopped in a small roundabout courtyard in front of the house.
Gently pouring her drink into her glass, she slowly set the crystalline vessel down, allowing it to rest now upon a small side table as she brought the glass to her nose. Acting as any proper wine connoisseur would, she slowly swirled the drink in the glass before taking a slow sip; allowing the sanguine red to slip over her tongue before she took a long sip. Savoring the drink, a soft smile crossed her lips as she leaned back in her seat, slowly crossing her right leg over her left, her free hand coming down to rest upon her knee. It should prove to be an interesting evening, she had thought, if those that had been invited attended. She was looking forward to getting to know her fellow High Marshals, and to seeing how they were preparing their own respective commands and their Sectors. If anything, she wanted to ensure that they would be more than capable of working together rather than against one another. She had little need for heroics or showboating; the mission and success came first - even if that meant placing her own vessel in harm's way to ensure that civilians were not caught out in the open. That was what had disturbed her the most about the operation over Rhand, the civilian casualties that had been incurred upon the Confederacy, its proverbial hands stained with that blood; it was not something that would be so easily or quickly forgotten.
And why should it be forgotten? It was a simple enough thought that pushed its way through her mind as she slowly set the wine glass down next to the crystalline vessel. Why should their, arguably, greatest failure be so easily forgotten. If anything else, it should galvanize the Confederacy, it should be held up as an example of how they had failed and how they needed to rise above that failure. She believed that the Confederacy could rise above it, that the ashes of Rhand would be the transformative catalyst for the Phoenix that was slowly rising within the Confederacy, the rebirth of which could already be seen in how swiftly changes were being brought to the nation. Now was the time for the Confederacy to step up and own that failure, to overcome the internalized fearmongering that had seen the Vicelord abdicate their position in the first place in favor of the one that had seen the Brotherhood and the Sith a more dangerous threat than the Bryn'adul that had been upon their literal doorstep. What's more, it seemed as though all eyes would once again fall upon the Confederacy, and old enemies would more than likely slowly make their way out of whatever holes they had been hiding within.
From where she looked out upon her veranda, she could see the beautiful Lake Country of Naboo - from her office, however, was a different story. What she saw there when she gazed upon the Galactic Map was the singular entity, the Confederacy striving to unite the Southern Systems beneath a singular banner, and around them, enemies. It would only be a matter of time before those thought friends could potentially turn - and she had seen an inkling of such activity when the Mandalorians that they had harbored had taken their own fiefdom at the Eastern edge of the Confederacy. They were a fledgling power that she wanted to keep an eye on, though such a decision would remain with the High Marshal of the Vylmira Sector. Her own thoughts in kind would be turned inward towards the Capital Sector, in securing it and ensuring that the emboldened strike upon the Confederacy's previous capital of Geonosis would not happen upon Naboo.
For now, all she could do was await the arrival of her guests in the cool air of the Lake Country, watching as the sun slowly slipped away over the horizon and the stars above began to slowly come into their own; dancing softly in the heavens. A soft smile slipped over her lips, a hint of fang revealed as she turned her attention to a datapad resting on the table. Grasping the object from where it rested, she scrolled through the bits of information stored within - finding a means between it and her drink to pass the time.
Anashla Deshal
|
Thorald Magnusson
| Vorn Kessig Chaos NaNo 2021: 1,572
