Private Autocracy

[Nima Appw'rii]

FML
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A low whistle sung on her lips as she stared at the holo pad, it didn’t matter which way she tilted it in the sunlight it still read the court orders. Nima stared at it for what felt like hours, she had done a lot of karking shavit but reading Bline’s name on the summary-the woman couldn’t tear her eyes away from the aurebesh that spelled out Lieutenant Colonel. Her chest constricted painfully, hand raising to cover her mouth as she let her back hit the railing.

Served, it was one of the few things she had expected coming off the rotation. Misconduct on the field, she wanted to laugh honestly. Two punches, that’s all she had thrown. All for some dead kid-she should of put her boot down his throat. She tried to retrace her steps on each mission, they could have requested any other unit in the end. Nima snapped the holo pad up-fanning herself with the slim piece of tech. She was winded by it, Nima could pick apart a whole hell of a lot about the Order but it was funniest that this was the consequence they enforced.

It wasn't the first time she had dealt with the Imperial trapping, but petty offenses and mediating on behalf of another was a far cry from seeing yourself on stand. She hoped her men took it to heart, Nima didn't want to think there was a single man in any of the platoon who would put up with a shoddy order. Nima's frustration welled up behind her eyes, her shoulders shaking-wanted to rip her own cap off. A hot exhale escaped her-She chalked it up to making a quota.

The real criminals had gotten themselves killed and martyrized.

Cursing under her breath, it was too nice of a day for this and her eyes landed the backs of the military chaps, their silhouettes formless; marching off. COMPNOR was written all over it. Nima’s lip curled up watching them disappear through the facility. Standing on the edges of the lawn looking up at the construction, Castle Gladius was still rebuilding-Bastion itself was still in full swing of recovery. Has she cost herself that shoddy promotion?

The blonde dug her hand in to her coat pocket, turning her back on the rank and file that flooded the grounds. Her eyes roved over the communicator, biting her pride-she fucking hated Djorn Bline some days and could tolerate him fleetingly; when he decided to keep his mouth shut. Favor or not, good soldier or not, she didn’t trust him. It was the rank she owed any respect to, Nima’s brows rose and furrowed. The disbelief written across her face. Staring off the rampart, the woman grumbled finally punching in the code as she produced a smoke. The soft beeps dialed away and she contacted the bloody man himself.

It was some bantha shit, and she just had to know if he had acted on it. There was no restraining orders listed and maybe she ought to keep her head down, call in a favor from the 307th-Archer was the most reasonable. Yet the woman had reached the end of her patience. Maybe she’d chalk it up to resisting bad orders, but even then she wouldn’t see an end of a career.

A bitter snort escaped her, like she had wanted it-shavit she reasoned she could still make a killing as a stripper. The only difference had been the signing bonus and here she was, a decade later. The smoke burned between both teeth and she left it wedged there for a moment, listening to the signal message file through the options. Plucking the smoke and blowing a heavy cloud of smoke off in to the air-

“Lieutenant Colonel Bline, this is Major Appw’rii I need to discuss some matters with you please contact me-” she uttered into the recording, cutting the signal. Looking over the city, mega cranes dotted the main avenues. She could almost see where they had hit the roads during the siege. The corner of her mouth fell and the woman frowned-running a hand through her hair bringing the smoke to her lips. Agrippa would be laughing at her now and Lyra, she had to wonder what the General would of made of it. Grin and bare it like Yinchorr?

 

[Djorn Bline]

P U N I S H E D _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
BASTION

He didn’t have anything to do with the court orders regarding against Nima, directly. Indirectly, perhaps he did have some fault there. Every battle from each unit required a report summarizing their activities, for the sake of logistics and every other protocol in the order of battle. All Snake did was submit his own report of what had happened, obviously mentioning Nima’s conduct in battle. Her behavior was something to address as he couldn’t tolerate that kind of behavior in a soldier when operating in active combat. That was something that could compromise her life, the life of others, and the mission itself. Comrades fighting amongst each other? Sure, he could tolerate it, but not on the battlefield; or drawing a weapon on a fellow soldier.

It was something to address, but he would do that personally. Despite how zealous he was to his Imperial ideals, he was mostly lax with another soldier. A shining example to others to follow suit, one that didn’t have a lust for power, but instead be selfless to honor their duty.

He only presumed the court orders were struck against Nima when someone else filed them, most likely following their duty and protocol. Who could blame them? Not him, although it had dire consequences for the newly promoted Storm Commando.

“Lieutenant Colonel Bline, this is Major Appw’rii I need to discuss some matters with you please contact me-”

Just the woman he was wanting to talk with. Even spoke to him politely and respect in the transmission, a whole different attitude than their last encounter when she assaulted him after killing a child soldier. Surprised he was, but he was unclear what were her intentions. He had no apparent idea of her being served to a military tribunal. His only guess was about what happened on Archais. Maybe a formal apology for her behavior?

<“Where can I find you, Major?”>

Apparently, she was on Bastion as well according to the transmission.

<“Better yet, where would you like to meet up?”>

Nima Appw'rii​

 

[Nima Appw'rii]

​

Ash fell from the stub of the smoke, the winds picking up as the day drew out. Nima restlessly awaiting some response from the unassuming communicator. Seldom had she made it a habit to look over her shoulder, allies and risen and fallen on the field since the beginning of the war. The wariness carved out in regards to the man betrayed her lack of knowledge, Nima didn’t know the man. A thrumming of anxiety crept over her, she only reserved that feeling for the battlefield and her brows furrowed. Fingers flicked the stub off the ramparts as she turned her back on the city, the beeping that radiated from the device seizing all her attention.

<“Better yet, where would you like to meet up?”>

A willing attitude caught the woman off guard and Nima had to pause to consider, she really didn’t like that. She had to wonder if he was expecting an apology or if he really just was that professional. Idly she turned the data pad over in her hands; the light catching the cerulean screen. Bastion was still a temporary station as well. Castle Gladius offered very minimal room for the influx of soldiers, the distant clink of blastplate filling the space as troops marched down the long rows of cement road. It was a fortress in the end and Genesis was not amongst it’s keepers. She’d be relocating back planetside by the evening suspended over the city in the starport-

<”The Imperial Headquarter’s public offices, fifteen hundred work Colonel?”>

Nima didn’t want to end up losing the metropolis in the end and in her brief station changes-she had an idea where the galactic state assembly was located. It was difficult to miss the overarching metal beacon across the city. Loosening open the lapel of her coat, Nima slipped the link and data pad back as she started off across the castle grounds. Nima was how ever going to need a coffee.

She had a good hour to make it, and the woman reached up to fix her cap before fixing her coat. It was practically a ritual as she ended with a single shake of her wrist idly checking the vambrace encased on her arm. The woman nodded idly to the men and women she passed, heading for the gates. Nima had far and few problems between since the constitution of the Riders, this wasn’t their sphere of operation however. She was at the mercy of the Commission and her visage darkened. She didn’t feel like being the bigger person.

Djorn Bline​

 

[Djorn Bline]

P U N I S H E D _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
BASTION

<“Yeah, that’ll work, Major. I’ll see you there.”>

The Commissioner replied back to the Red Rider after receiving her response back to him. Not too far from him as he was always around districts near the Imperial Palace which wasn’t far from the Imperial Headquarters. He could take an airspeeder making the trip shorter, but would prefer to walk on his own two knees. Allowed him some time to clear his thoughts and think what would be said between the two Imperials. He hoped it was calm and casual, knowing that the woman owed him one favor after giving her some information regarding to her missing general. Classified information, only hoping it wouldn’t spread to other individuals.

COMPNOR orders and the zealous organization which served as an important cornerstone for the New Imperials abhorred letting unwanted information to the knowledge of others. Sure, he served the higher echelons and carried power, but he was still at risk if deemed irresponsible for that level of power.

Then again, losing COMPNOR’s skilled soldiers wasn’t in the cards until he resigned or removed.

Much of the large city of Ravelin still needed repairs and reconstruction after the Sith’s bold attempt to reclaim Bastion under their corrupt curtain of darkness. Construction vehicles of all kinds worked their duties. It’d take time to see the homeland for the Imperials back to its proper self. The scars upon Bastion was temporary, but their war against the Sith would last until fhe deed was done; securing a bright future for the future generations of Imperials.

No matter what it would take.

Any means necessary.

There was some time remaining before the next hour approached upon arriving Imperial Headquarters. The main heart of the coordination and tactics constructed for those on battlefield. Guarded with its own garrison of Stormtroopers and other New Imperial assets, officers in their uniform passing through the gates with their credentials. As strict as any other New Imperial compound could be, a symbol to the order and security they yearned for control.

<“Major, I’ve arrived. Where exactly are you?”>

<“And whatever it is you need to discuss with me, it can be in a private office.”>

Didn’t exactly have his own office here unlike COMPNOR headquarters, although he hardly used that space; sure enough he could reserve a conference room or a vacant office for them to use.

Nima Appw'rii​

 

[Nima Appw'rii]

<“And whatever it is you need to discuss with me, it can be in a private office.”>​

The link buzzed as the agent’s voice flooded her ear, Nima tilted her head watching the gates like a hawk the vantage. She leaned carelessly against one of the grand pillars at the top of the stairwell that led into the looming building, every stone was some dour shade. The Iron Sun emblazoned across the windows and every icon. Nima was painfully sober in the shadow of it all, idealism had checked out for the woman. The system’s sun hung low as the afternoon dragged out and Nima watched as the mega crane creaked-at the center of construction. Only a block over as a series of new work was being put in on the sector.

Nima wanted to laugh at the man. She didn’t want to resort to putting this meeting on the books but her trigger finger was itching and there were too many eyes out here. Nima would make a scene if she wasn’t careful. He couldn’t have known it’d come to a legal disaster, she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt but optimism was a killer in itself. Inhaling deeply, arguments rose and died in the confines of her mind the span of a minute.

Blast plate was lost to wools aside from the choice of a few states guards. Cradling a hot caffe in one hand and toying with the comm link thinking of just what to say, Nima brought the tar liquid to her lips, sipping away. She wanted a fucking nap. Bloodshot eyes scoured the faces of the incoming wave of men alike, her jaw set. They all looked the same as far as she was concerned. A data pass hung loosely off the breast of the coat, three checkpoints centered the traffic into a stream line in and out. Those with a place brushed past her up the steps-

<”Just meet me at the doors, can't miss me there-if you want a private office you'll have to arrange it. It was either here or Castle Gladius.">

The woman stooped low to seize a second cup at her boots, continuing up the last few steps-the tail of her coat sweeping behind her. She wanted to call it a peace offering, a scalding hot one. She was just being nice she reasoned but it was painful. Anger and expectation were well at odds. Nima grumbled under her breath as she stalled outside the final check point, stepping aside as another man hesitated. She was about to roll on the tip of her boots to spot the COMPNOR rat.

 

[Djorn Bline]

P U N I S H E D _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
BASTION

<”Just meet me at the doors, can't miss me there-if you want a private office you'll have to arrange it. It was either here or Castle Gladius.">

<"That won't be an issue, see you in a few seconds.">

And a few seconds he arrived at the doors of the public offices, its facade a strong grey with detail that resembled to Imperial architecture. A tight security of guards, men and women in uniforms creating a flow of traffic that worked in symphony. A clock with all its cogs polished and properly assembled. That was the atmosphere of Bastion, and most of the credit was rewarded to COMPNOR. The Order's Dark Horse, its own entity that even warlords and moffs did not challenge. It operated across every system within and without the New Imperial Order, always ensuring order was maintained and the continuation of Imperialism reigned without challenge.

It didn't take much time to find the Major that had called for him to this meeting, approaching her with eyes trained on the blonde woman. He stopped in his tracks a few steps away from Nima.

"Major, nice to see you. I hope you've calmed down after our last incident on the mission we shared."

Was he going to take this route of antagonizing her? Temporarily, still he internally criticized her behavior that occurred not too long ago.

"This way, I've reserved a suite for us to discuss these important matters you called me for."

Having contacts and resources at his disposal always paid off. His dedication and loyalty was awarded with the delicate black operations he was responsible for. Both Imperials entered the suite they had come to with the door locked behind Djorn, valuing his privacy in whatever matters whether they be big or small.

"So, what you have for me? Another lecture of how we are supposed to operate in combat?"

Nima Appw'rii​

 

[Nima Appw'rii]

​

The woman’s brows raised, but a placidness swept down her face in a moment of contemplation as they passed through the ID point. She fell in step beside the agent after he greeted her, hand twitching with the cafes in hand-she could drop it on her shoes now and claim it was an accident. The petty thought in itself was amusing at least. Nima’s eyes burned, an ounce of self control maintained the facade of professionalism, glancing past her shoulder as they disappeared down the halls, there was too many suits here for her taste. Too many ears, and a strained hum followed in reply as he readily served to dissect the wound.

As if this was really time consuming for the likes of him, now she wanted to truly roll her eyes.

A man wasn’t dangerous in her mind, an entity behind one-now that was COMPNOR and they were a triffeling affect. She could be articled for the failure to address a senior officer, but Nima presumed they’d find out who was truly the pettiest after this. The woman passed into the office, a sure boot click betraying her rigidity. Without a second glance, the faint noise from the public works rapidly disappeared. Nima fixed her gaze on the vacant walls as she set down the two cups as the lock clicked. With her back to the man, her head tilted as he spoke and her glove grazed down her vambrace. The controls synching and the small red light flickered; recording.

“A black caffe if you’re not particular,” Nima stated, one hand sliding the cup to the side to draw his attention. Turning around as she fixed the sleeves of her coat, clearing her throat before continuing. “-that said. Will I be seeing you at my hearing to testify, I certainly won’t be seeing you in the field for a year. I’ve been court martialed, and I am curious to know how much you had to do with that.”

The blonde fixed a stern look on him, her jaw was clenched shut tightly-looking well like she had chewed on something worse. Nima let her back hit the table’s ledge as she rolled the sleeves of her coat up further nigh methodically, watching the agent closely as silence stretched the length of the office.

There was no way around it, she was fucked-but a bit violence wasn’t off the table.

Djorn Bline

 

[Djorn Bline]

P U N I S H E D _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
BASTION

"I've had bitter before," as he accepted the caf from the woman, taking a small sip of the black liquid. There was nothing delightful of black caf as his face frowned for a brief moment with the running down his throat. At least whiskey had some flavor to it. No doubt he wouldn't finish it and only have a few sips before letting it grow cold, even worse than when it is hot.

"Court martial? I don't recall ever submitting or requesting any papers for that," as a Commissioner within COMPNOR he said had the clearance to do that as he pleased. Many officers in the high echelon could, theoretically, do as they pleased and progress with their ambitions. He had his own ambitions, but they were noble and honorable ambitions to his own perspective.

"Ah, I see," putting together tall the pieces and connecting the dots. "Archais, yeah, I remember. I submitted a report after the success of the operation, so I imagine someone else saw your misconduct and decided to reprimand you. I guess you can say I was involved indirectly, though I do believe any soldier acting like that should be disciplined in some degree."

"Tough luck, even after getting that nice promotion. What a shame, so now what? You got your answer and now you what to do something about it?"

Nima Appw'rii​

 

[Nima Appw'rii]

Pioneer To The Falls
Djorn Bline

​

B A S T I O N, 8???ABY

It had been her last promotion, unluckily enough and the spat that had followed in suit had been..memorable. One that made Nima grimace over her carelessness.

“I’ve already contacted your father, he will be here-just take the speeder alright? I don’t want to miss your appointment. We’ll-or I will be there soon.”

Nima shook the fob in one hand, a light jingle resounded before her son reached out and snatched them from her hand. She’d make Djorn do the leg work if it came to it. The boy’s quiet thanks and smile didn’t hide the shadow pass over his eyes. She grinned through the anger, a silent string of insults flowing through her thoughts as she watched Darro descend the alabaster stairs-disappearing in the crowd.

He didn’t want to tell Djorn and disappointing him wasn’t an option either. What a shame she didn’t mind. Nima rolled her tongue across the sharp edge of her tooth, turning back around to face the grand pillars that held the titanic Headquarters aloft. The Iron Sun was tarnished with the hint of age. Same place, different day, different era practically-the trist, the black mail. If Nima had it her way there would be no meeting and a court order to separate them and then once again she’d hate it that way all the same. Where did it stop, the concessions, trying to understand and make something work.

It didn’t, it hadn’t at least in full-but she had made it what she could for their son.

Darro had asked for her to be nice about things and with her palms out she had surrendered to his request. It wasn’t easy for him and Nima’s hand swept her pale hair back as she eye’d the time. It was still early enough. Bastion had a hum about it that reminded her all too much of Bescane, at least it didn’t reek of fumes. She hoped this wasn’t the kid’s final stop, the woman’s hand fell to hide her plethora of emotion. Men and women alike raced up and down the steps in a sea of gray. Her head swiveled and she picked at the weave on her coat-impatient. Even she was worried now, the state of everything, their Empire.

It was a shame this wasn’t going to last and Nima wanted their son far away from the likes of it.

 

[Djorn Bline]

P U N I S H E D _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
BASTION

Where did the years go? Countless minutes dedicated to achieving what his ambitions demanded from him. Trying to realize a Galaxy that fit into his visions only for the very foundation he built it on was losing strength in its structure. He prioritized his desires instead of focusing on what really mattered: his family he unexpectedly created after his intimate affairs with Nima.

At first he attempted to be a man for his family, making sure he’d break the cycle of resentment between father and son with his own child. Then came false hopes and broken promises as he returned back to his own nature. As much as he’d wanted, was was the only thing he knew after years of countless battles. Djorn warred to fulfill his ideals. Many fought for their own respective reasons; he did so for being an idealist.

So much for being an ideal father to his family. Then again, many men of war were terrible parents.

Now here he was to push his son into the direction he wanted him to take, only to turn him into an asset. He saw Darro as an extension of himself, someone whom he can rely on to expand his visions. Meetings were arranged to enroll his son into the finest war academies of the Empire, though that was all decorum. He could always pull some strings to assure his son he’d be accepted, something Nima knew quite well about Djorn.

“Big day for him,” some small talk to break the ice between them, there was some tension going on. “I’m confident he’ll be wanted by all the marshals, I’ll be damned if I hear one of them hesitate on Darro.”

His one good eye locked on her, admiring her while trying to figure her thoughts behind her eyes.

“A lot has brought to us from Archais. I don’t regret a moment from it.”

Nima Appw'rii​