A Provisionary Cultivation

[Mitth'rae'leios]

The Galactic Empire. The Galactic Alliance. The First Order.

As he rattled off each in his mind, one by one with a notation of each of their accomplishments, each one, followed by a vast variety of much lesser powers, began to form a consistency at the forefront of his mind. While it had been some time since he had surveyed the galaxy in it's entirety, what knowledge he'd access to granted him one particular insight on his vision of the galaxy. That nothing of an immeasurable size in it's unspoken mirth held strong beyond it's own physical ambitions.

Some were seemingly immune to this notion, a granted few with an underlying nature of the anecdote of possessing the driving ferocity of a cornered animal whilst maintaining the outward pride and girth of a victorious pride beast. That was not all, however, by even the lengthiest of manner in regards to the greater galaxy itself. A round about way of analyzing but one that effectively brought him the insight he required to understand the ultimate burnishing and diminishing of the factions that had made up the galaxy as he knew it prior to his initiation into the Confederacy.

It was that very initiation that had brought him to the position he held presently. A commander of his own ship, crew and fleet as a presiding member of a greater naval force. Something to be proud of for the common man, but something he was unshaken by as a man of life known almost completely of navy. That did not, however, mean that he was devoid of the ability to spot talent or fresh knowledge among those who rose from the masses; often many in search of their own glory or aspirations on a path they could not, even in themselves, predict the ultimate outcome of.

No, rather, he found himself finding more and more excuse to sift through the various minds that filled the ranks. A pass time that had become something similar to a strategy game between he and his fellow commanders; albeit one that was most often held within the confines of his own mind rather than exposed openly to the rest. Perhaps it was a comfort to keep his own mind to himself, or rather a security he had become accustom to in the company of the ysalamiri that constantly adorned it's branch aboard his ship.

Leaning into his rather sizeable chair on board the Thrawn's Legacy, heading off the largest part of the vessels command bridge, the Chiss rested almost eerily with one hand against the arm console and with the other pressed, curled against his chin. Before him, displayed in the air from a console that stood before his command post, was a variety of files and dossiers. Several relevant to pilots, others to individuals capable in a variety of combat talents and a great many others with merit in numerous levels of naval command.

The one that had him seated in his chair, upon his vessel, while the rest of his fleet performed their standard exercises, however, was a dossier on a particular young woman that had piqued his interest some days prior. A girl who, while he had spent most of his time simply surveying the growth and flux of the Confederate Navy, had made quite the name for herself; particularly in the area of star fighter combat and command. And one that had spurred him to invite her to his ship personally under pretenses he had not, as of yet, divulged.

Seated quietly and steadily in his chair, staring through the documents before him, he waited. She would arrive soon, her prudence and attention to time a unorthodox initiation.

[member="Sasha Fox"]

 

[Sasha Fox]

[SIZE=9pt]Sasha was not used to being summoned by the Naval higher ups minus the captain of the vessel on which she served as the air boss, a challenging position for sure but she was up for the challenge. Most of her days were spent in a frenzy between the comfort of her command room over looking the hangar’s and the hangar floor itself. She had become well adapted to the repetitive nature of her work. For however repetitive it was the problems she faced were different each day as different starfighters broke down in different areas. The hangar of a carrier was wear she felt comfortable not being invited to meet with officers on the bridge of a ship. For this occasion the small woman had changed out of her standard high visibility green top and khaki pants into her formal white officer uniform. She hardly had a reason to don this uniform so she was very uncomfortable.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]As she was escorted from her safe place to the interior of a shuttle. The interior was about as plain as they came, just a huge window in the front with 4 chairs. The entirety of the interior of the ship was made of durasteel, nothing too fancy but very cold. Sasha could not stand the cold being from the planet of Affa Sasha was used to the warmth. That is also why the control tower where she spent the majority of her time always had the heat on. As she took her seat on the shuttle she thought of the two different ways that this interaction could go. The first way it could go is the officer could be impressed with Sasha’s performance and praise her maybe even promote her, or it could go south, he could be angry with her and reprimand her before possibly demoting her. As these two possibilities went through her mind the shuttle flew from her home ship to that of the officer who had summoned her.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Sasha was ushered into the ship and lead through to the bridge, it was a looming masterpiece. The balcony like over view. Walking in she was facing the large chair that overlooked the bridge. She saw the chiss man before she made it through the door. She was then ushered up the stairs and brought to a stand still before him she stood at attention.[/SIZE]

[member="Mitth'rae'leios"]

 

[Mitth'rae'leios]

The invitation had been unorthodox yet direct. Something that the Chiss had become rather accustom to during his time as an officer. A concept that had just as quickly accommodated for as it had become a growing nuisance to spare himself the constant demoralization of being caught by surprise.

He was well aware that each individual in particular was comfortable with their own individual settings and parameters. He was no different.

As such as the young woman was brought onto the command bridge for the scheduled review, as he had taken to considering it on such short notice, he remained utterly still with his position at his chair unchanging even as she climbed the stairs towards his perch. She was visibly uncomfortable with the attire that she had been encouraged to wear in his presence, seeing it written in the fluctuations in her body heat as she walked, and took the briefest of moments to flick through a set of commands on the console as she came to a halt at attention.

"You can relax, miss Fox. This is not a court marshal, nor is it a formal review of your performance," he began, his attention still not turning to her as his red eyes continued to scan across the documents while his fingers roamed over the console beneath them. It wasn't until he had finished tapping commands into the console that he finally cleared away the dossiers and other information that he finally brought his glowing red gaze to her form.

"It's come to my attention that you're a particularly talented commander," he breathed as he lowered the hand from his chin and pushed himself up from his chair while folding his arms behind his back. His posture was strict and stiff, his entire body exuding the very same confidence that he felt even while he made attempt to quell any and all pride and ego that would have likely constricted the conscience of other men and women. Practiced was his demeanor as he moved to step towards the balcony that overlooked the command bridge, even as he showed what most would have perceived as arrogance in his gait.

"Would you say that you are one of the best at what you do? Or perhaps one of a moderate standard who has room to improve your skills?" He asked, his tone reflecting a hint of curiosity while masking the underlying air of inquisition that he knew most would pick up on through the whim of anxiety in the presence of one that was, or even perhaps seemed, to be superior to oneself. "Your records would suggest the former, but others such as myself would perceive the latter. Though, I am one less likely to overlook your history and faults of character; though they are nothing to be outwardly concerned with."

Even as he spoke, his words suggesting reprimand, his eyes held themselves upon her with unshakeable perception.

"You've come a long way from where your path began, Fox. Some might even say you've become something far more impressive than others might consider you capable of." He added to his continued train of thought, almost as if each notion was becoming clear as he spoke but each holding the immeasurable thought behind it that he had likely been sitting upon for hours. "But enough of my prattling, words for the sake of formality, I did not call you here to give a review of your performance or aptitude.

I called you here because I want you to tell me who you are in your own words." It was only as he finished that the expression on his face began to reflect the intrigue that had been growing at the back of his mind. Intrigue that had been seeding itself into his thoughts on her talents from the moment he had caught eye on her records among those capable of star fighter repair and hangar control.

Turning fully to face her, his form looming over her slightly as he glanced briefly out at the fleet outside, he fell deathly silent in anticipation of her response.

[member="Sasha Fox"]

 

[Sasha Fox]

[SIZE=9pt]As Sasha was made aware that this was not a court-marshal or a formal review of her performance the small woman’s posture did not change, she stood at attention as she had been taught in the naval academy, however her relief was evident as the tension in her neck and face dissolved. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Sasha was always one to listen no matter who was speaking, she had learned this trait from her father who had taught her that every single being in the galaxy had something to teach her if she would only listen to what they had to say. As her command skills were complimented the young Airboss beamed with pride, she was a commander always looking out for her men and the vehicles on which they performed maintenance.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]As the Chiss posed the question Sasha’s mind began to spin, she knew what she thought she was, she saw herself as merely a very lucky individual, she was born into a family with a long history of military service, she was gifted with the ability to think tactically as well as almost see the inside of a machine in her mind knowing every part and how they were all supposed to fit together. Sasha viewed all of these as a stroke of luck.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]As she was questioned of who she was she began to speak finally “I am an extremely lucky individual I was born into a family with a long history of military service, I have been gifted with the ability to almost see the inside of any machine seeing all the parts and how they fit together. I have been lucky this far, I would not say I am the best at what I do or even close to it, I don’t compare myself to others, I view this mindset as the way one gets cocky or gives up by looking at others. I compare my current self to my past self viewing my progress as well as my short comings. There is always something to learn no matter how good I become I can never know anything Sir.” She said gently yet with authority[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt][member="Mitth'rae'leios"][/SIZE]