Captain Larraq
Capitalist
An opportunity had presented itself. Or that was what Rygel Larraq had been told as he stood in stunned silence. The communicator at his secretary's desk chirped endlessly as dozens of his clansmen tried to contact him. Outside his office, it seemed like the whole planet was in a state of chaos. Every resource available was being mobilized. Citizens were donating weapons and ammunition from their personal stock. Some were even lining up to board the ships that were hastily being gathered in orbit above Mandalore.
On his desk, written in paper of all things, was a hand delivered note signed by the Mand'alor. Not 24 hours since the title had changed hands, rumors were being whispered from one ear to the next that the Shokita Station network was picking up unusual signals. But this note confirmed it. The jetti and dar'jetti had committed themselves to an offensive against each other. It was not an unexpected event. But the scale of the forces involved were a surprise to everyone.
And so it was deemed an opportunity. An opportunity that the clans had no intention of wasting. From what he had heard, representatives had quite literally broken down a door to make their demands of the new Mand'alor. Demands that he had reluctantly yielded to. And reluctantly, he committed the Mandalorians to war once again. Or so the rumors said.
In his office, Rygel Larraq stood in the corner and gazed out the window. Behind him, Talyn sat upright with ears perked and attentive. The Vornskr knew that something was wrong. For Larraq's part, he knew it as well. Someone, somewhere, had volunteered him for a role he didn't know if he could fill. He'd never given much thought to his people as a whole. His whole life, Rygel Larraq had had to focus on himself and his clan. He had been asked to put the company first. And he had complied. He had sacrificed everything else for this company.
Larraq had been asked many times why he never wore his armor. And while he sometimes offered them one explanation or another, he never told them the truth. He had forsworn it. When his clan had assumed control of Mandal Hypernautics, they needed to place it in the hands of someone they could trust. Someone who would put it and the investments of the clan before all else. When they had chosen Larraq, it was with a condition. He would never wear armor again. The company would be a part of him as he would be a part of it. Just like the relationship between a Mandalorian and his armor. His true face was that of the Company. And the face of the company was Rygel Larraq.
But now... The Mand'alor had called upon Rygel Larraq to put his company aside and put the needs of the Mando'ade before all else. He had been asked to assume command of the Mythosaur. He had been asked to lead the invasion of Dromund Kaas. But as far as he was concerned, he had been asked to walk naked into the Dragon's lair.
It was an ambitious plan. Strike hard and fast at the heart of the Empire while it was exposed. The clans thought it was infallible. Larraq thought it was suicide. Successful or not, they would be alone and surrounded. The Sith would come at them like a Tsunami. Swift and vengeful, striking from every direction.
Closing his eyes, Larraq could see it now. Hyperlanes cut off by interdiction, engines failing, Sith fleet baring down on him... By the time they finished their assault of the planet, it would be too late to retreat. There were no hit and run engagements to be had here. Only assault and defend. Take and hold. It would have to be an invasion.
Wiping his brow, Larraq turned from the window and returned to his desk. Staring at the note, he read it again. They would contact their allies and ask for whatever help they could muster. They would contact the Republic. They would contact the Protectorate. They would even contact the Witches of Dathomir. Yet somehow, deep in his gut, he knew that it wouldn't be enough. The Republic and Protectorate would be bogged down with their own battles and there was no guarantee that the Witches could be contacted at all.
Larraq sighed and sat heavily in his chair. Closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, Larraq tried to think. The Mandalorians needed something else. They needed more men and more ships. And he knew that neither the Republic nor the Protectorate would be able to provide either. What they needed... Was a new alliance.
A new alliance...
Larraq stood and turned towards the holodisplay on the far side of his office. Mining sites, factories, and shipping lanes were highlighted on the map. But there, on the far side of Mandal Hypernautics existing trade routes, was what drew Rygel Larraq's gaze. There was more than one Empire in this galaxy. And if Larraq's hunch was right...
“Linda. Get me the CEO of Imperial Galactic.” He said into the intercom on his desk. Staring again at the holographic map of the galaxy, Larraq let himself have a moment of hope. “This just might work...”
@[member="Cyrus Tregessar"], @[member="Akio Kahoshi"], @[member="Masaru Mori"], @[member="Togashi Yokuni"], @[member="Aditya Amadis"], @[member="Somarae"], @[member="Gilamar Skirata"], @[member="Hutuun'Kyramud"], @[member="Basaba Willamina"]
On his desk, written in paper of all things, was a hand delivered note signed by the Mand'alor. Not 24 hours since the title had changed hands, rumors were being whispered from one ear to the next that the Shokita Station network was picking up unusual signals. But this note confirmed it. The jetti and dar'jetti had committed themselves to an offensive against each other. It was not an unexpected event. But the scale of the forces involved were a surprise to everyone.
And so it was deemed an opportunity. An opportunity that the clans had no intention of wasting. From what he had heard, representatives had quite literally broken down a door to make their demands of the new Mand'alor. Demands that he had reluctantly yielded to. And reluctantly, he committed the Mandalorians to war once again. Or so the rumors said.
In his office, Rygel Larraq stood in the corner and gazed out the window. Behind him, Talyn sat upright with ears perked and attentive. The Vornskr knew that something was wrong. For Larraq's part, he knew it as well. Someone, somewhere, had volunteered him for a role he didn't know if he could fill. He'd never given much thought to his people as a whole. His whole life, Rygel Larraq had had to focus on himself and his clan. He had been asked to put the company first. And he had complied. He had sacrificed everything else for this company.
Larraq had been asked many times why he never wore his armor. And while he sometimes offered them one explanation or another, he never told them the truth. He had forsworn it. When his clan had assumed control of Mandal Hypernautics, they needed to place it in the hands of someone they could trust. Someone who would put it and the investments of the clan before all else. When they had chosen Larraq, it was with a condition. He would never wear armor again. The company would be a part of him as he would be a part of it. Just like the relationship between a Mandalorian and his armor. His true face was that of the Company. And the face of the company was Rygel Larraq.
But now... The Mand'alor had called upon Rygel Larraq to put his company aside and put the needs of the Mando'ade before all else. He had been asked to assume command of the Mythosaur. He had been asked to lead the invasion of Dromund Kaas. But as far as he was concerned, he had been asked to walk naked into the Dragon's lair.
It was an ambitious plan. Strike hard and fast at the heart of the Empire while it was exposed. The clans thought it was infallible. Larraq thought it was suicide. Successful or not, they would be alone and surrounded. The Sith would come at them like a Tsunami. Swift and vengeful, striking from every direction.
Closing his eyes, Larraq could see it now. Hyperlanes cut off by interdiction, engines failing, Sith fleet baring down on him... By the time they finished their assault of the planet, it would be too late to retreat. There were no hit and run engagements to be had here. Only assault and defend. Take and hold. It would have to be an invasion.
Wiping his brow, Larraq turned from the window and returned to his desk. Staring at the note, he read it again. They would contact their allies and ask for whatever help they could muster. They would contact the Republic. They would contact the Protectorate. They would even contact the Witches of Dathomir. Yet somehow, deep in his gut, he knew that it wouldn't be enough. The Republic and Protectorate would be bogged down with their own battles and there was no guarantee that the Witches could be contacted at all.
Larraq sighed and sat heavily in his chair. Closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, Larraq tried to think. The Mandalorians needed something else. They needed more men and more ships. And he knew that neither the Republic nor the Protectorate would be able to provide either. What they needed... Was a new alliance.
A new alliance...
Larraq stood and turned towards the holodisplay on the far side of his office. Mining sites, factories, and shipping lanes were highlighted on the map. But there, on the far side of Mandal Hypernautics existing trade routes, was what drew Rygel Larraq's gaze. There was more than one Empire in this galaxy. And if Larraq's hunch was right...
“Linda. Get me the CEO of Imperial Galactic.” He said into the intercom on his desk. Staring again at the holographic map of the galaxy, Larraq let himself have a moment of hope. “This just might work...”
@[member="Cyrus Tregessar"], @[member="Akio Kahoshi"], @[member="Masaru Mori"], @[member="Togashi Yokuni"], @[member="Aditya Amadis"], @[member="Somarae"], @[member="Gilamar Skirata"], @[member="Hutuun'Kyramud"], @[member="Basaba Willamina"]