Private War Council

[Zahara Myneto]

Secure Conference Room - Naval Command Complex
Courscant
​

There were very few drawbacks to being an Admiral. You got free food, a few paltry salutes here and there, perhaps even a Thank you for your service every once and a while. Aside from constantly fearing death by asphyxiation, and spending hours mourning over the lives of hundreds or even thousands of crewman, life was great. Few drawbacks, he repeated to himself before scoffing.

That was such a lie. Being an officer of the Galactic Alliance during these dark days meant being able to stomach the idea that most of your compatriots wouldn't survive battle unscathed. Thousands would be wounded, hundreds would die. It was a never ending cycle of death and destruction, and poor men like himself were the only lines of defense against such forces of chaos. To put it mildly, they weren't doing a good job. Empress Teta fell. Tython came dangerously close to being destroyed. The Final Dawn and the Brotherhood of the Maw held onto Xa Fel and Selvaris. The counter-invasion of Empress Teta had proven sucessful, but not even such a perfectly executed military strategy could remove the pit in Myneto's stomach.

This war was taking its toll.

He supposed that's why he was summoned to Courscant. Afterall, it seemed as though he wasn't the only one so it wasn't like he was being fired. In fact, it was his first week back in active service after the disaster that was Foerost. After that battle, Admiral Myneto had been marked Missing in Action, drifting amongst the wreckage of the Star Defender Orion for hours before being rescued by a salvaging ship and its crew. He spent weeks in bacta, then a few more weeks in rehabilitation before being given a teaching assignment on Anaxes. Finally, High Admiral Gascon gave him back his command, albeit on a trial basis.

Today would be a trial by fire. Upon entering the confrence room, he was midly pleased to see the faces of people he both respected and admired. There was Rear Admiral Liedran Kathause , a juggernaught who'd been the face of quite a few propoganda reels. And his old pal Rear Admiral Constantine Oliva who was just as talented as Kathause. He quickly scanned the room before his eyes landed on Hoid Hallafax. He nodded politely. He'd heard much about Admiral Hallafax. He could only hope it wasn't all true.

 

[Hoid Hallafax]

Zahara Myneto | Liedran Kathause | Constantine Oliva | Pa'Kar Sang | Forlan Norsama ​

Naval Command was buzzing with activity on Coruscant. More than usual, for a new player had entered the game. The Empire. Once allies against tyranny and the Sith they were becoming an increasingly hostile force towards the Alliance. In the last few months alone there had been two major skirmishes and about a dozen smaller ones where patrol ships ran afoul of one another on the Imperial-Alliance border. He wasn't sure what had brought about this change, but that's what he had analysts and his Admirals for. Hoid? Hoid was there to look good and speak fancy words to the holocam that would calm the populous down and assure them that their Little Billy Skywalker Antilles Solo was coming home and that, yes, they were indeed a hero.

Repeated "successes" over Empress Teta and Tython had restored a little faith in the military again, much-needed victories after the colossal failures of his fleet that had led to the battle at Tython to begin with. The Maw Corridor the Jedi called it. He kicked himself for not coming up with such a good name for it. On top of those battles, he was being applauded for "his" quick thinking in sending reserve forces from Crimson Lance to Ilum when the Empire launched their surprise attack there. The other Admirals called HIM a mess. Night Hammer had seriously dropped the ball, though from what's understood they were caught up in Maw Space as well as skirmishes with this new Chiss revolutionary group. Either way, it had been ships from the Crimson Lance, his sector fleet that had flown in to save the Jedi, though from what he understood they had taken heavy losses.

The doors hissed open and High Admiral Hoid Hallafax stepped into the conference room that held his admirals. He was surprised when he saw Zahara. A holdover Admiral from the Corellian Confederation and High Republic like Vice Chancellor Pryce. His eyes narrowed. What was he doing back here? Had Battlegroup Andor been transferred to him without him knowing? Either way, he had his own disastrous career to keep him in check. At least he didn't maintain that absolutely foolish Corellian tradition of pauldron wearing like Pryce had. He knew several of his Corellian officers did so, luckily none of them were Admirals.

Hoid took his seat and set his hat on the table beside him and he began the meeting, a practiced sympathetic look on his face.

"Space," he began, "is hard."

 

[Forlan Norsama]

Location: Conference Room, Naval Command Complex, Coruscant
Tags: Zahara Myneto Liedran Kathause Constantine Oliva Pa'Kar Sang Hoid Hallafax

​

The war was taking its toll.

The Senator had known the situation was balanced precariously, but until he had been appointed to the Committee he had not known how close to tipping it had been. Not nearly as bad as the doomsayers said, but too close for comfort. The ongoing counter-offensive was succeeding, but the breakdown of relations with the Empire threw new doubts in the situation.

He took his seat and leafed through the documents prepared for him. He had come here to ask some difficult questions and kickstart important strategic conversations, but it was not his intention to grill the Admirals. Gods knew he could never repay his personal debt to the GADF and its leaders.

Hoid took his seat and set his hat on the table beside him and he began the meeting, a practiced sympathetic look on his face.

"Space," he began, "is hard."

He nodded sagely, his mind still occupied by-

Wait, what did he say?

"I... concur, Admiral," he started uncertainly.

"Well, is everyone here?" he continued, looking down at the papers.