Vulpesen’s fingers cracked and popped as he flexed them, his stylus resting on the desk before him. They were getting sore, and he swore his eyes must have looked as red as a sith’s saber with how tired they felt from staring at the datapad before him. His workload had decreased significantly over the last few years, but that didn’t mean it had gone away. Running a planet and a company meant that he always seemed to have a a stack of forms and proposals to go through. Perhaps that’s why he’d spent so much time on Coruscant nowadays. Of course, the Valde couldn’t always be away from Veradune. He had to come home some time.
The creak of his opening door drew his attention and Vulpesen found himself offering a slight smile to the white suited man that entered. Lucas, as ever, was the pinnacle of poise as he stepped over to peek at Vulpesen’s work. “Taking a break?”
“If I don't, my fingers will fall off. How the hell is there so much when I’ve got you, Harlow, and Amaris all supposedly handling the branches yourselves?” Delegation was supposed to be one of the main perks of his position. The Valde might have led Veradune, but it’s three branches of government were each led by an excelsus who was supposed to handle the matters of their personal faction.
Lucas tapped on the datapad, scrolling over to peruse the documents. “Well, someone has to approve security details for our diplomats. Armis and Tenevi are constantly arguing over who gets to protect my people. There’s the matter of integrating with the Galactic Alliance which is above all our heads except yours. Then there’s the matter of the Wilder’s and their integration into each of our societies. You shot yourself in the foot when you took the position of Arch-Wilder.”
Vulpesen groaned and leaned back in his seat, rubbing his eyes. “I need a fight. Isn’t there some sith kicking puppies somewhere?”
“Sorry, sir,” the Senator offered, the transition from friend to subordinate being seamless as always. “War brews, but peace remains. How about a drink?” He didn’t bother to wait for an answer. Nor did he ask permission as he plucked a pair of glasses and bottles from the bar at the far end of Vulpesen’s study. Uncorking a bottle of wine and another of whiskey, he poured them both with a small measure before sauntering back. “Not all of our issues can be solved by tossing people out of windows. It might have gotten you the position of Valde, but that paperwork will ensure you keep it.”
Vulpesen grunted as Lucas set the amber drink before him. “Of course not. Still, it’s hard to lose elections when I'm the reason a good majority of our population owes me their lives as well as their freedom.”
“That certainly does help. But you can’t always rely on the galaxy falling into turmoil.” Lucas raised his glass to take a small sip, then went to take a seat in one of the chairs leaned against the wall. “And we both know you can’t be Valde forever. What’s the point of democracy if we never change leaders? You might never lose, but it won’t be healthy if you always win.”
“I know. I’ll step down someday. I just… I don’t know. I came this far. Saw this much done but I still feel like I can do more. Besides, we’re finally back on the galactic stage. I want to see where this Galactic Alliance takes us. I might not be admiral of the fleet, but I want to be captain of the ship when it all hits the fan, you know?” He lifted his glass and drained it in a single go, wincing slightly as the burn traveled down his throat and into his gut. “Besides,” he stared, a hand raised to call his whiskey bottle over by use of the force, “And if I left, who else would you have these lovely little chats with?”
“Whoever comes next I suppose. How are Vallen and Daella, by the way? Still looking to replace you?”
“Of course they are. Vallen just made captain in the Militia. Daella’s doing something in the Tenevi. I think she’s hoping to spearhead integration with the Alliance’s SIA.”
“You know they can’t be guaranteed the seat when you retire.”
“Of course. But I can still teach them what I know and hope they win.”
“And if say, Inderos Amaris runs? He is a current Excelsus.” Lucas’ brow raised as he issued his challenge. His full expression however, was hidden as he brought his glass up for another sip.
“He’s welcome to try,” Vulpesen said as he poured himself another drink. This one, he sipped at, enjoying the taste. “Amaris is a smart man, but I think he prefers the shadows. Honestly, I think Harlow would be the greater threat. Man helped teach Vallen to fight. And he was at my side in a lot of those early campaigns, He’s an Excelsus war hero.”
“He’s more of a soldier than you are. And he’s used to taking orders. He took excelsus because he likes taking orders from you.”
Vulpesen shrugged and took another sip before leaning back in his chair. “Alright then, what about you? You’ve got the experience. You like the politics, and you aren’t afraid to speak for a crowd. I’ve seen you attack a stack of documents and lay waste to them like I do a group of sith troopers.”
“Are you asking if I’d run against both of your kids and wrest the Valdeship from house Torrevaso?”
The Valde’s response was a single sip from his drink.
“Maybe.”
Vulpesen heaved a sigh. “Then I guess I’ll need to throw you out a window. Or arrange some horrible accident. Poor Excelsus Gracin, taken from us too soon.” He held the Senator’s eye as he said it, and for a long moment the pair stared at each other. Then they both burst out laughing. “Feel free to give them hell!” Vulpesen said, reaching up to clink his rocks glass against Lucas’ wine.
The creak of his opening door drew his attention and Vulpesen found himself offering a slight smile to the white suited man that entered. Lucas, as ever, was the pinnacle of poise as he stepped over to peek at Vulpesen’s work. “Taking a break?”
“If I don't, my fingers will fall off. How the hell is there so much when I’ve got you, Harlow, and Amaris all supposedly handling the branches yourselves?” Delegation was supposed to be one of the main perks of his position. The Valde might have led Veradune, but it’s three branches of government were each led by an excelsus who was supposed to handle the matters of their personal faction.
Lucas tapped on the datapad, scrolling over to peruse the documents. “Well, someone has to approve security details for our diplomats. Armis and Tenevi are constantly arguing over who gets to protect my people. There’s the matter of integrating with the Galactic Alliance which is above all our heads except yours. Then there’s the matter of the Wilder’s and their integration into each of our societies. You shot yourself in the foot when you took the position of Arch-Wilder.”
Vulpesen groaned and leaned back in his seat, rubbing his eyes. “I need a fight. Isn’t there some sith kicking puppies somewhere?”
“Sorry, sir,” the Senator offered, the transition from friend to subordinate being seamless as always. “War brews, but peace remains. How about a drink?” He didn’t bother to wait for an answer. Nor did he ask permission as he plucked a pair of glasses and bottles from the bar at the far end of Vulpesen’s study. Uncorking a bottle of wine and another of whiskey, he poured them both with a small measure before sauntering back. “Not all of our issues can be solved by tossing people out of windows. It might have gotten you the position of Valde, but that paperwork will ensure you keep it.”
Vulpesen grunted as Lucas set the amber drink before him. “Of course not. Still, it’s hard to lose elections when I'm the reason a good majority of our population owes me their lives as well as their freedom.”
“That certainly does help. But you can’t always rely on the galaxy falling into turmoil.” Lucas raised his glass to take a small sip, then went to take a seat in one of the chairs leaned against the wall. “And we both know you can’t be Valde forever. What’s the point of democracy if we never change leaders? You might never lose, but it won’t be healthy if you always win.”
“I know. I’ll step down someday. I just… I don’t know. I came this far. Saw this much done but I still feel like I can do more. Besides, we’re finally back on the galactic stage. I want to see where this Galactic Alliance takes us. I might not be admiral of the fleet, but I want to be captain of the ship when it all hits the fan, you know?” He lifted his glass and drained it in a single go, wincing slightly as the burn traveled down his throat and into his gut. “Besides,” he stared, a hand raised to call his whiskey bottle over by use of the force, “And if I left, who else would you have these lovely little chats with?”
“Whoever comes next I suppose. How are Vallen and Daella, by the way? Still looking to replace you?”
“Of course they are. Vallen just made captain in the Militia. Daella’s doing something in the Tenevi. I think she’s hoping to spearhead integration with the Alliance’s SIA.”
“You know they can’t be guaranteed the seat when you retire.”
“Of course. But I can still teach them what I know and hope they win.”
“And if say, Inderos Amaris runs? He is a current Excelsus.” Lucas’ brow raised as he issued his challenge. His full expression however, was hidden as he brought his glass up for another sip.
“He’s welcome to try,” Vulpesen said as he poured himself another drink. This one, he sipped at, enjoying the taste. “Amaris is a smart man, but I think he prefers the shadows. Honestly, I think Harlow would be the greater threat. Man helped teach Vallen to fight. And he was at my side in a lot of those early campaigns, He’s an Excelsus war hero.”
“He’s more of a soldier than you are. And he’s used to taking orders. He took excelsus because he likes taking orders from you.”
Vulpesen shrugged and took another sip before leaning back in his chair. “Alright then, what about you? You’ve got the experience. You like the politics, and you aren’t afraid to speak for a crowd. I’ve seen you attack a stack of documents and lay waste to them like I do a group of sith troopers.”
“Are you asking if I’d run against both of your kids and wrest the Valdeship from house Torrevaso?”
The Valde’s response was a single sip from his drink.
“Maybe.”
Vulpesen heaved a sigh. “Then I guess I’ll need to throw you out a window. Or arrange some horrible accident. Poor Excelsus Gracin, taken from us too soon.” He held the Senator’s eye as he said it, and for a long moment the pair stared at each other. Then they both burst out laughing. “Feel free to give them hell!” Vulpesen said, reaching up to clink his rocks glass against Lucas’ wine.
