Lets Get Phriky

[J3C0]

Mierin stood over a camp of men, women, and machines. Hundreds if not dozens of people moved about, managing droids or working on machines. Each and every one of them was working hard, and each and every one of them seemed to be determined to finish their task. She knew why this was, it was because she was here. They were eager to please the Sith Lord, eager to show that Alderaan was loyal, that they would work for the Sith.

It was a necessity for them.

They needed to survive, and to survive they would need to show that they were willing to work for the Sith. It was a simple thing, a mentality that Mierin would exploit to the fullest. She wanted a new project, something that would protect her men.

Orin had informed her of what had happened at the Valley of the Dark Lords on Coruscant, and she had decided that such a thing could no longer be tolerated. Her people had been outgunned and outmatched, she wouldn't allow that to happen again. She wouldn't tolerate such things anymore. Her troopers would have the best armor, the best weapons, the best ships. Her Royal Guard would not flounder again.

She would ensure it.

“Orin.” Mierin said in her most authoritative voice, summoning the Commander.
[member="Commander Orin"]

 

[Menoetius]

"Lady Mierin," came the gruff reply. The towering figure marched over, handing the production manifest he was reading to a random protocol droid nearby.

He stopped a few feet away from the Sith Lord, squared himself up and then snapped out a sharp, crisp, salute. He held that form, unwavering, like a statue. Two royal guardsmen flanked him, their red armour scratched and their cloaks torn by the battle they'd been involved in mere days ago on Coruscant. Orin's shoulder still ached, even with a flesh graft and a liberal application of bacta, causing his salute to falter in the slightest, most subliminal way.

That really, really, pissed him off.

Orin was all about procedure and presentation, especially in front of his lady lordship. This was almost a sign of weakness and that was something he never dreamed of displaying. He hoped she would understand, should she notice.

[member="Darth Mierin"]

 

[J3C0]

Mierin ignored the man faltering slightly, to do anything else would be disrespectful. Orin had been with her for nearly 20 years, a soldier that had been loyal to a fault in the passed. He had never questioned her, never disobeyed her, never done a thing to cause her to doubt him.

That was what made the drive to do this so strong. She wanted Orin to survive, she wanted her Imperial Guard to survive.

This was why Mierin wanted this. She needed them to be more useful, and in this age, that meant a technological race of power. Mierin smiled at Orin, not returning his salute of course but instead giving him a warm greeting well...warm for her anyway. She took a few steps closer to him, moving away from the noise of the camp so she didn't have to yell.

“How are the miners faring?” She allowed him to handle most of the oversight here.
[member="Commander Orin"]

 

[Menoetius]

After Mierin had greeted him with that warmness of hers, Orin relaxed, dropping his salute and assuming a wider stance.

"They are faring well," he responded after a moment. "They seem determined to assist in the war effort in whatever way possible. In fact, the facility has seen a thirteen percent increase in production after the Protectorate's desperate attempt to take Coruscant. Miners had family there, I think."

Despite Mierin's closeness, Orin still had to raise his voice to be heard over the rumbling machinery and harsh voices of the foremen. He was surprised that Mierin had taken the time to visit the facility, making him wonder what made a Phrik mining operation so important that is deserved her personal oversight. They had already kickstarted production of the new ceremonial Royal Guard's Armour, so something else must have been on the cards.

[member="Darth Mierin"]

 

[J3C0]

[member="Commander Orin"]
“Good.” Mierin said turning away from Orin for a moment to study the camp. The Miners really were working hard, and each time they looked towards her their eyes seemed to shift away and they began to work harder. That made her smile. Her legend wasn't really spreading, even after killing two Jedi Councilors and the Former Mandalore no one knew her name or what she had done, yet the sight of a Sith Pureblood still invoked terror.

It was proven by the miners themselves.

“Have them double their production. We will need it.” She bade him to follow, expecting him to comm the command to the foreman of the mine. “How deep is this vein?”

Orin would know such things, he made it his business to know everything that Mierin might want to know about. She really should pay him more, at this point he was a Commander, executioner, secretary, and well rounded Soldier all rolled into one.

 

[Menoetius]

To be fair, Mierin didn't need a reputation. Her ancestry was reputation enough. Even Orin felt the tingling of dread-fueled adrenaline nibbling away at his gut when around the Sith Lord. That said, it was no where near as pronounced as the miners, though he did sense a certain respect they emanated whenever laying eyes on his lady lordship.

Orin followed closely behind Mierin, as did the two guardsmen behind him. As the dark conga line advanced, Orin raised his hand to his earpiece, pressing down on the communicator. Through the clever use of neural sensors, he had already tuned it to the sectorial foremen around the mine. "This is Commander Orin, Lady Mierin has requested for production to double. You certainly don't want to disappoint her," he ordered in a rough voice that oozed authority.

"Deep," came his reply to Mierin's question. "Goes for about a hundred meters, with branches extending throughout. The deposits of Phrik here haven't been seen since the Gromas Goldrush."

[member="Darth Mierin"]

 

[J3C0]

Mierin nodded.

Good. They would need it all. They would strip mine Alderaan if they really needed to. This world was rich in Phrik, and the One Sith would have it all. This was their world now, no the Republics, not anyone elses. That meant the Phrik was theirs for the taking, and they would have it. She smiled slightly, this would be a surprise for Orin, but she would wait longer to tell her.

“Excellent. What are the projected figures?” She needed to know it all.

The vein was deep, but how many tons of Phrik could they get? Hundreds? That would be most excellent. This project would take time, and plenty of Phrik. Walking quickly she made her way to the mining command center, there they would meet with some of the Royals of Alderaan. It was their people who were mining here, and they would likely want a cut of the profits.

She pitied them.

 

[Menoetius]

The question was expected, yet Orin still hadn't managed to put together a definitive answer. You see, the mine was relatively new. There were many ore veins they likely hadn't yet discovered, as well as the ones they already had discovered not being fully surveyed yet.

"To be honest, it's hard to say, my lady," Orin began with a slight shrug. "With all of the veins we currently have surveyed, an estimated eight hundred tons. Underground imaging suggests the undiscovered veins could bolster that number up to anywhere between fifteen hundred and seventeen hundred."

He ran his hand along a deposit on the wall.

"Either way, a lot."

[member="Darth Mierin"]

 

[J3C0]

She smiled. That was quite a bit, enough to get away with a dozen or so projects, certainly enough to finish hers. This world was proving to be a boon beyond any other they had taken. Well, perhaps Coruscant compared, but it had proven to be quite the benefit, this little rich world. Her smile disappeared as they neared the Command Center.

“Good.” She said again. “Don't let them know.”

It was obvious who she meant by them, the Royals of Alderaan were very particular and very money grubbing. Of course House Organa and many of the houses that could be considered “good guys” outright refused to deal with them, but a few of the Royal houses like House Thul was more than eager to have Mierin and the One Sith throw business their way.

So they did.

Mierin would gladly treat with the houses, though they would never achieve what they wanted. They sought to get rich off this little project, but she would never allow it. Alderaan belonged to the One Sith now, not the houses.

 

[Menoetius]

As they approached the command center, Orin couldn't help but guess at what Mierin had planned. New weapons and armour, no doubt, but what was the purpose? Who for? Never the less, he continued to flank the Sith Lord, stammering out an "Of course," in response to her command. Clever girl, he thought, putting two and two together. Not all royal families on Alderaan were money grubbing filth, but the ones who wanted to deal with the Sith were.

As they entered the command center, the royalties of each of the houses stood from their seats, giving Mierin a curt nod and a fake smile. Some glanced at Orin and his men, only to quickly avert their gaze when Orin narrowed his own eyes back at them in return. All spineless, all out to garner personal wealth in the least risky way possible.

He took up position by Mierin's side, arms folded, as they headed the meeting table. His two men stood separately by the two exit doors, blocking them should the royalty decide the deal was unfavourable and try to back out.

[member="Darth Mierin"]

 

[J3C0]

[member="Commander Orin"]

Mierin stared at the members of the royal houses for a moment. Each wanted a piece of these mines, each wanted profit from the phrik being made here, and each one wanted to invest their futures into the One Sith. She knew what they would say before they ever said it, and that brought a smile to her face. They were predictable, and predictable people were easy to deal with. She eyed the representative from House Thul. He seemed the most likely to speak first.

“Lady Mierin.”

She smiled, she had been right.

“These mines. They are an impressive sight indeed. They seem to have sprang up over night.”

Yes, they had indeed been built quickly, but then again the Killiks moved fast when spurred by the Sith. Of course the Insects had long been moved on to another project, their cohesion needed elsewhere. Now human workers and droids worked here, with the bugs being elsewhere.

“Yes.” Mierin said in answer to him. “They did indeed.”

She gave Orin a hand Signal to move to the other end of the room, a tactic meant to intimidate the Alderaanians.

 

[Menoetius]

A smirk crawled onto Orin's face and disappeared just as quickly as it came into existence. He relived a short memory in which a Killik worker had gotten in the way of one of his lieutenants. It was a gruesome sight to see a sentient life extinguished so quickly, but it reminded Orin of the spectacular training him and his men often took for granted.

He didn't give Mierin an obvious acknowledgement of her command, instead acting on it immediately. His massive frame began to slowly maneuver around the room, with every movement as harsh and yet calm as could be. His narrowed eyes stared down everyone who dared look his way, leaving many of the occupants rosy-cheeked in fear.

As he approached the end of the room, he turned around slowly and finished the rest of the journey backwards, stopping inches away from the wall. He retrieved his Force Staff from its magnetic holster on his back and stood with it held parallel to his own body, pushing the butt into the ground with enough force to make a metallic thud.

More royals looked his way, only to quickly regret it, eager to find something more welcoming to look at. Their eyes darted to Mierin and Orin nearly chuckled.

[member="Darth Mierin"]

 

[J3C0]

Good, Orins actions had done as she intended.

They peered at her, watching her movements as if they were rabbits looking at a hawk. They feared her, and she drank in their fear as though it made her more powerful. She finally allowed her face to break out into a smile, she showed no teeth, but she tried to comfort them slightly.

“My Lords, my ladies. I know you're eager to dig your grubby little hands into these mines.” A few of them seemed to stiffen slightly. “But I regret to inform you that will not be the case.”

Some of them seemed to immediately want to scream, they stood from the chairs quickly, but with another motion Mierin ordered Orin to sit them back down. There would be no choice for them, no act of rebellion however small. The Houses of Alderaan belonged to the One Sith now, they belonged to the Order. They had no choice in their actions, no choice in what was done with their planet. The One Sith ruled here, completely and utterly without question.

That was sure.

[member="Commander Orin"]

 

[Menoetius]

Orin moved to the closest stand-ee, who stared at Mierin defiantly for a moment before he realised Orin was approaching. He was brave, braver than the rest, as he turned to face Orin. The Commander picked up on the man's eagerness to punch something, so Orin utilised his immense experience to diffuse the situation. He extended his force staff in the blink of an eye, causing the man to flinch as it came to rest on his shoulder. Manipulating the end of it, which wasn't powered currently, he forcefully maneuvered the man to turn back around and sit down.

Satisfied, Orin then held the staff across his chest and activated it, the sizzling noise of a plasma current his persuasion as the Commander proceeded to gesture at each and every one of the attendees who had chosen to stand. They all began to sit, bar one, who attempted to leave the room.

"I demand you to move," he said to the guardsman blocking the door, his face the embodiment of rage.

"Return to your seat," came the guardsman's reply, voice fuzzied by his helmet. When the man attempted to push past the guard, there was a yelp and a groan as the guardsman gripped the man's hand and manipulated it in ways that would cause immense pain but no serious damage.

Moments later and the man was back in his seat.

[member="Darth Mierin"]

 

[J3C0]

Mierin stood in place as she watched her guardsmen do his work. Oh yes, Orin was truly remarkable when it came to handling these fools. The Royal Houses were used to be treated in a certain way, they were used to be handled carefully and with poise. The One Sith would not allow this, the One Sith would treat the Royal Houses as they wanted to. It was who they were, they took what they wanted. It was the way of the Sith, to take what you wanted.

“Now.” Mierin said looking directly at the subdued man. “I will explain why you will get nothing.”

She began to walk around the table, pacing slowly about like a cat.

“The Royal houses have long exploited Alderaan. You have exploited the Killiks, and you have exploited the working classes. It is now your turn to be exploited.” They didn't like the sound of that.

A few more of them moved and shuffled about, but none of them stood or spoke. They instead stared at Mierin, occasionally glancing at Orin. Mierin looked to her Commander as well, nodding to him and then to a small map on the wall, commanding him to open it up and show them what it was.

He really did deserve a raise.

 

[Menoetius]

It was almost funny to see the Sith assume a holier than thou attitude. Stealing from the rich, giving to the poor. It was almost hypocritical, yet marvelous. It made Orin wonder why the Sith hadn't done it sooner? It was the only way to appeal to the masses, and it was usually the disapproval of the masses that was each Empire's downfall. That, and the in fighting for power. But at least now, perhaps, there would only be the infighting behind closed doors.

He gave a curt nod to Mierin and moved towards the map, which was just a screen. He pressed the on button and blueprints of the mine began to appear in a well-timed slideshow. Orin stood to the side, explaining what each section was and what it did to help the mine. He left out the vital infrastructure in case any of the royals decided to sabotage their investment.

"... And then that brings us back to here."

Orin pointed to the small square that was the command center.

"Any questions?" He asked, then immediately, "No? Good."

[member="Darth Mierin"]

 

[J3C0]

“Now Ladies and Gentlemen.” Mierin said smiling at them all, placing her hand son the edge of the table. “You will be paying for all of it.”

This time, they all stood in an uproar. Each one of them jumped from their seat and began to yell and even scream at Mierin, though the Royal Guards in the room quickly jumped on this. They moved swiftly, placing their hands on shoulders and forcing men and women back into seats. It took only seconds, and the entire room was quieted, whether by force, or by fear. She smiled at them, one by one looking them in the eye.

“This is your punishment.” She said quietly.

They gritted their teeth. She knew that many of them wanted to punch her in the face, perhaps even kill her. Quite honestly the latter was far more likely than the former. They wanted her dead, each one wanted to murder her for what she was doing with them.

“You have taken from this world.” Mierin smiled as they scowled. “And now you will give it to us.”

With that, she turned around and walked out of the Command Center. Waving for Orin to follow her. The man would likely want to comment on what just happened.

 

[Menoetius]

Participating in the pacification of the royals was a satisfying experience for Orin. He disliked entitled pricks just as much as the other lower class citizens of the galaxy and having some sort of power over them was brilliant. Despite his urge to throw in a punch or two for good measure, he remained entirely professional, relying completely on his big build and strong grip to calm the rowdiness of the room.

Before they left, Orin decided to leave a further warning as well as a command. "The guardsmen will see you out. If you even think of backing out of this deal, you will reimburse us with your life."

With that, he began to follow behind Mierin, the silent shuffle of the royals' footsteps signaling their departure through the opposite door.

"Well played," came the comment Mierin was expecting. "Doubt they'll play nice, though."

[member="Darth Mierin"]

 

[J3C0]

Mierin smiled, hearing the words of Orin.

“No, they won't. I suppose that some of them will want to have me killed.” She mused on the idea, but it wasn't really that much of an issue. Hundreds of people were currently trying to kill her. They were in the middle of a war, The Mandalorians, the Protectorate, the Republic, they would all like to have her head on a pike.

She suspected the latter would love it the most.

The Sith Pureblood lead Orin to a nearby shuttle at the edge of the phrik mines. They needed to move to the Factory, there she would show Orin the new surprise she had in mind. She knew he would be grateful, knew that he would love the armor that she would have made for him, and the rest of the Royal Guard.

It would show them she would ensure their survival, that she was just as loyal to them as they were to her.

“Come Orin.” She said stepping onto the Transport. “I have a surprise for you.”

 

[Menoetius]

"They are certainly welcome to try. I'd relish in removing a few of them from existence," Orin responded to Mierin's musing, his voice harsh. If anything so much as laid a finger on Mierin when he was around, they wouldn't live long enough to regret that mistake.

Following behind, he arched his brow in response to her declaration. A surprise? He didn't know her to surprise her allies, leading him to feel momentarily suspicious. That suspicion was nearly immediately wiped clean by the reassuring memories of the past twenty years. Only good things could come from this surprise, Orin was sure of it. Perhaps he was finally getting that raise...

He marched onto the transport and slapped the door button. It hissed as hydraulics pulled it shut, leaving him and Mierin enclosed within the safety of the shuttle's durasteel hull. "Where to, then?" he asked.

[member="Darth Mierin"]