The Way It Has To Be | First Order

[Natasi Fortan]

[SIZE=11pt]As she strolled from one side of the cabinet room to the other, Natasi Fortan passed between a projector and the screen upon which it displayed its image. As she did, her features -- brow etched with worry, hair shot through with the occasional greys -- were cast in shades of war: fiery red-orange hues of flame, crimson splashes of blood, grey-brown columns of smoke, all from the still image being projected on the screen: of the First Order embassy on Commenor during the riots there.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“What did we gain from this little venture?” asked the Grand Moff as she reached the edge of the frame and turned to face her cabinet. “Casualty reports are still coming in, but any loss of life is unacceptable -- for [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Commenor[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt],” she added with a derisive sneer. “A jumped-up backwater. We indulged their queen’s delusions of relevance for too long, it seems. But aside from injuries and fatalities -- what did we take away from this?” She gestured to the screen again. “An embarrassing black mark on the galactic stage -- though we must thank our friends the Sith Imperials for their own failure to respond, which gave the galaxy an even more abject humiliation to distract from ours.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The Grand Moff paced around the table, her footfalls muffled by the carpet. “Certainly our efforts did nothing to shore up our alliance with the Sith Imperials. Although Commenor did help illustrate to me quite clearly that this business of the mandate is folly. What is a mandate that is not enforced but a challenge that will not be answered? We are placed in the unenviable position of either committing blood and steel to enforcing the mandate, or not responding to a challenge and proving ourselves weak and ineffectual.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Natasi stopped behind the Foreign Secretary’s chair and placed her hand on the man’s shoulder. “It was a bold attempt, Foreign Secretary, but in the end a failure. We will withdraw from this mandate. The Sith Imperials can continue to do as they please on their side of the galaxy, and we on ours, but we will no longer run their errands or enforce their claims. They would not do the same for us.” She frowned gravely, wishing for a moment she could pull the man’s head from his neck, but this wasn’t the place or the time. “Once you have announced that we recognize only our own borders and not the old mandate, you will recall our diplomatic personnel from the galaxy at large. It is time that our focus is on our own affairs. We will honor our commitments, but should avoid further entanglements.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The Grand Moff straightened and squared her shoulders. “I have heard reports that the self-anointed Steward of the Ren has been captured by the Commenor queen. Unfortunate as it is, it is the policy of this government that his actions were unsanctioned. Unless and until the Supreme Leader directs us to negotiate for his release, it is my position that he acted alone and not as a representative of the First Order, and whatever crimes he may have committed on Commenor are his own affair. It must be made clear that whatever the Knights of Ren [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]are[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt], what they are [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]not[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] are representatives of the Supreme Leader’s Government.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Supreme Commander,” she said as she stopped behind the Minister of Finance’s chair, opposite the Supreme Commander’s position. In the light cast by the image on the projector, she couldn’t tell if he was there in body or just in holograph, but it was neither here nor there. “I would like you to draw up plans to have our armed forces recalled to our borders. Border patrols and reinforcement of the home territories should be our priority, rather than any extracurriculars.” Rausgeber wouldn’t like it, Natasi knew, but fortunately, he worked for her, not the other way around. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Minister Calgar,” Natasi said as she rounded the table to her own chair. She pressed the controls to deactivate the projector, and her features returned to their normal pale Galidraani shade. She sat and looked across at Calgar, perhaps her closest ally in the cabinet. “Any individuals or groups that are under investigation and that we believe are more likely than not to be seditious, front groups, or otherwise [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]problematic[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt], I am authorizing the seizure of real property, physical goods and assets, bank accounts and other financial assets. The one plotting violence should be arrested and dealt with. How the Security Bureau addresses the rest of the individuals I will leave up to you, but whatever you decide, ensure they will not be a threat.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She folded her hands in front of her on the desk and looked around at her cabinet colleagues. When she spoke her voice was firm but grave. “From now on, the First Order exists for the First Order and no one else. Where appropriate and in the interest of this nation, we will take action outside our borders where we must, at the discretion of the Supreme Leader and his appointed leadership. If you feel that you cannot support this doctrine, I’ll accept your resignation by the end of the week. Any questions?”[/SIZE]

 

[Progflaw99]

If his jaw could have been clenched tighter the Moff was liable to begin loosing teeth. Minister Calgar had seen the reports, the statistics, all in all an abysmal showing. If they couldn't protect their own embassies what business did they have maintaining them in the first place? Added atop their failure at Skor II, a backwater refuse planet, it was a decided failure to enforce bold claims - and now they needed to walk them back. It was all he could do but sneer as the Grand Moff's words lighted upon his ears. Perhaps this change in philosophy would see more focus on the interior security of the First Order - more funding for some of his projects. Before he could consider further what this change of pace would mean Grand Moff Fortan's words were directed at him. Eyes meeting the cold gaze of Natasi's, he hung on every word. As each reached his ear in turn, the corners of his lips turned upwards. *Power. She had just granted him nigh immeasurable power, even if she didn't realize it yet.* The two had come a long way in terms of their relationship. There was a competition of sorts there certainly but it had gone from an antagonistic one to a respectful one. At least, that's the way he saw it.

"As you command your excellency. With pleasure." he noted as she reached a natural pause. Already he was itching to begin they day's work. The following few weeks would be telling, as for how to coordinate Dante hadn't a clue. The Supreme Commander had his orders and the Minister had his, though if they could coordinate their actions... Ideas had already begun to brew. A nod of affirmation and a sparkle in his eye were directed towards the woman. Governing an empire such as this wasn't an easy job and in his mind she'd come a long way since their first meeting. She had his full and unwavering support.

[member="Natasi Fortan"]​

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Varonat Capitol Building,
Edgefields-on-Varonat.

​

Far away from Avalonia's sparkling avenues and elegant office spaces, in the heart of the First Order's Industrial Sector, Governor Madelyn Lowe sat in her office, the heavy velvet curtains drawn so that the space was cast in a gloomy, murky dimness that cast the edges of the room into indistinct shadows. Outside, the day was bright and hot, the bustling, growing planet largely oblivious to the misery unfolding in the seat of its government. At the centre of the room, in a richly upholstered chair, the Governor sat hunched, immobile, over a pile of papers the woman had read over and over, trying and failing again and again to truly absorb the information within. It was bleak, impossibly hopeless, and just before it had been going so well-

*SLAM*

A clenched fist slammed down on the table, rattling a set of beautiful fountain pens on a black stand. It just wasn't fair. It wasn't right. Worst of all, it didn't make any sense. Who could have arranged this? She'd spent a year in office tying loose ends. She was confident anyone who could have posed a threat to her was either quelled, or busy enough with their own issues not to be a problem for her. She'd established an extensive ring of implants in the lower levels of politics, to search for young, ambitious upstarts, as she had been. But there had been nothing, not a whisper of trouble on the air. Sure, they had hit some bumpy terrain, but everyone seemed confident that things would progress as normal soon.

So who? Who did it?

Which immoral, stupid, degenerate, pen-pushing nobody took her job?

The foreign office, talks of promotion, of a future ministerial position. All of it snatched away in a few memos, a few short strings of data on a holopad that spelled the end of her career, the end of her direction. As far as she could tell, that was the end of her story. One final bitter twist, an apt punishment for a woman who lied and cheated her way to the top, and thought she might atone by serving the Order, taking it down a better path. Now she was relegated to the sidelines once again, left to supervise the menial task of running a planet whilst other more favorable figures shaped the empire.

Atone? Please. Did she really believe that? Wasn't this all about power anyway, about climbing the ladder, taking what she could for herself, and forsaking everything else in pursuit of that goal? Her hunger for power had defined her before, and it always would. That was what this was really about right? There was no escaping it. No use pretending to be anything more than a corrupt politician, cheating the system for her own aims?

No NO! Shut up. None of that is true. Not all of it is true. It's not the whole truth. It's not true. No.

She really did love the First Order. She did want to help it. She wasn't being punished, she was being betrayed. That had happened before. She'd dealt with it. All she had to do was enlist some help. She had resources, ways of finding things out. She'd send out her spooks, her diplomats, they would sneak and pry, and come back with the First Order's dirty laundry in hand. They'd tell her who had betrayed her and where they could be found.

Then it was simply a matter of finding them, finding them and making them PAY make them PAY for what they did to her andbashtheirskullsandbreaktheirbonesand-

Fumbling in the top drawer of her desk, Madelyn pulled out a small white patch of cloth, and hurriedly peeled back the cover to expose a layer of blue gel. Slapping the patch across her bicep, she sighed deeply as the drug was pumped into her system, and the muscles that had moments before been tight bunched cords relaxed, letting the tension out of her body.

Madelyn sucked in a deep breath, her head spinning. The maelstrom in her mind had been quietened, at least for a little while. She could once again focused on immediate tasks, the first of which involved pulling the holocommunicator across her desk and tapping the code to a secure address in Avalonia. Any nerves she would have in calling for a joint meeting with The Grand Moff and others in the Moff Council were washed away by the waves of calm radiated from the patch on her arm.

The communicator established its connection, waiting only for the other side to answer.

[member="Dante Calgar"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"]​