Work.

[Malok]

"Bring them to me."

Unyielding. Cold. The order of the Sith Lord slithered forth from behind his mask. His gaze was placed upon a woman knelt before him: a faithful vassal who had proven her worth time and time again. She, an agent of a regime long dead, was now his Hand in all things. A Vessel of the Dread Lord, to be exact. Silent. Obedient. She reached into the folds of her cloak and produced a data-chip.

"Excellent."

Although veiled, a smile began to form upon the Sith Lord's face. It was heartening to see that some semblance of his work had survived...that some remnant of his former ambitions yet lived. Reaching out, Darth Metus claimed the chip and offered the slightest nod. "Leave me. There is work to do." There was no patting on the back...no encouragement...for there was no time to do so. Work needed to be done. Darth Metus had catching up to do.

 

[Malok]

As she was bid, so did she act.

The Vessel rose, bowed, and showed herself out of the office. Now, the Sith Lord was alone...save for the trappings of his desk and his own thoughts. Stepping lively, he had his way over to his seat and settled in. A datapad was clutched and the chip inserted: almost eagerly. Then, Metus found himself subject to the whims of modern technology. It mattered not how powerful he grew or who he was for that matter...a datapad was going to take its time loading no matter what.

"Come on..." he growled, as if willing the progress bar to move faster.

But there would be no bullying the machine to process any faster; and in the back of Metus' mind, he knew why. That chip contained a literal mountain of data. Projects. Ambitions. So much that was left undone was now booting up inside his pad. This would take time to accomplish, but even so...patience was a virtue he had in short supply these days. Alas, there was naught to do but stare into the screen and wait.

 

[Malok]

Finally, salvation came.

The progress bar was replaced by a wealth of folders. Some obviously named whilst others were simply titled in vague sequences. The average Joe would not have been able to make heads or tails of these particular titles, but not so the Sith Lord. After all, he was the one that chose them. "Where to begin..." he muttered. As he began to contemplate the options, Metus paused in order to identify what was the most pressing need of the present.

This day, he unearthed his long forsaken ambitions for a reason. He had cast his lot in with some new creatures...and he needed insurance that they would weather the coming storms. To this end, he did as was custom: taking matters into his own hands.

So what, then, did the First Order need that they currently lacked? What could this plethora of unfulfilled ideas produce for their benefit?

 

[Malok]

They needed the ability to show force.

Now, on their own, the budding nation had a modest selection of warships to choose from. They were more than capable of assaulting worlds. They were more than capable of picking fights. However, they lacked something iconic...something that, when it appeared in the heavens above, would cause pause in the souls below. Something meant exclusively for combat, destruction, and nothing else.

And so did Metus' thumb begin to scroll, flipping past folder after folder. He had just the project in mind...one inspired by a rather destructive force from the past. When he happened upon the data in question, a swift double-tap was given upon the screen to open it. And therein did he see the answer: a behemoth that, admittedly, would need to be tamed to modern standards. It would be quite the "dousey" to achieve, but it was doable.

 

[Malok]

Admittedly, the Sith Lord could not take full credit for the file before his eyes.

There was a man, a particular business partner, who had a fascination of sorts. It was this fascination that inspired him to collect trinkets of the past; of all types and sizes. Over the course of their friendship, this man had exposed the Sith Lord to many items of his personal collection. These relics alluded to a Galactic Power of old times, one that could create the behemoth before Metus' eyes with ease. For this, the inspiration of what was to come, the Sith was grateful to [member="Count Morcus"].

But now was not the time to dwell on that. There was work to be done.

"Project." he said.

And there was light. Azure beams erupted from the datapad in order to form a decent, holographic depiction of the vessel in the air before his gaze. The statistics of the ship, dimensions and such, were also displayed off to the side. Metus squinted briefly against the light before continuing.

"Begin recording."

 

[Malok]

"Title: Project Anathema."

"This is the totality of the data I possess regarding the Executor-class. Now, realistically, there is no way I can reproduce this vessel. In fact, I doubt that even the resources held by ATC could put a dent in the demands for creating it. However, much akin to Arakyd's previous works in bringing beasts of the past to the modern world...I am confident that a fitting 'homage' can be painted for the First Order."

"Dilemma One: Dimensions."

"As aforementioned, I do not have the resources to reproduce this vessel to scale. So, I begin with the area of overall size. 19,000 meters is astronomical, and for the needs of the First Order, is too much. I would rather see this deployed in a mass production fashion."

"Solution? 1,600 meters. Or around there."

 

[Malok]

"Dilemma Two: Composition."

"Already, the engineers of the First Order have impressed my staff. They had not thought to combine Matrix Armor and Alusteel for the hull of a capital ship. Typically the status quo has been to make an alloy of sorts out of heavier, durable materials; ala the Confederate Fleet. However, I think we will follow the example of the nation in this instance. It will be expensive, but worth it."

"Dilemma Three: Armament"

"As fun as it would be to fit several thousand cannons on a ship, it just isn't plausible at this time. However, even by perfectly scaling the numbers mathematically, we arrive at a crossroads. Will hangar space be sacrificed or potentially diminished in order to accommodate more weapons? Or. Will there be a balance between the two?"

[ Silence. ]

 

[Malok]

"Dilemma Three, Continued."

"I surmise it would be in the best interest of the First Order to establish some semblance of balance between the two. However, that balance will be...skewed. The hangar space will be diminished. I will not take full advantage of the potential room for starships and will utilize some of said space for additional weapons. The engineers will be able to give me an accurate count of how many potential starships will be lost in this endeavor, so this trait may be subject to change."

"Dilemma Four: Hypertransit."

"What comes to mind in this department is the existing agreement between Nubia and Arakyd. However, that agreement only covers a specific Hyperdrive unit...a Starfighter Hyperdrive unit. I do not think that it would be wise to test the willingness of the new regime of the company by approaching them for capital grade drives. Standard, military grade drives will do."

 

[Malok]

"Dilemma Four: Special Features?"

"The purpose of this vessel is to provide a very clear, very concise show of force. Specialized capital ships can be deployed alongside this vessel in order to accomplish additional roles. However, my emphasis will be on armament and durability. To this end, I will not be adding a large suite of special, non-combative attachments...with the exception of tractor beams."

"Conclusion."

"The development teams have their work cut out for them. I will want this vessel ready for deployment by the time the next major operation is unveiled. This isn't going to be cheap, but fortunately the First Order can afford this particular 'gift' now. I can only hope that this spells the beginning to the fulfillment of much more than a single file."

 

[Malok]

With the final word uttered, the Sith Lord ended the recording session. He, too, concluded the azure projection and took the datapad back into his grasp. Deft keystrokes brought up his address book, and additional taps selected the vital players who would make this ambition a reality. These were the same masterminds that saw the Sentinel see the light of day, and as such, they had Darth Metus' complete confidence. They were, quite literally, the best that Arakyd had to offer.

As such, he wasted no time in attaching both the original file and his recording. They would be able to piece together a draft and begin construction of his vision immediately. Most likely they would begin from his holdings within Union space, as they were astrologically closer to the Order than any other nation. Once complete, it would be but a simple jump to Dosunn. A simple step towards a monumental cause.

 

[Malok]

Time.

For some, the perpetual dance of celestial bodies was but a common occurrance. It was something so normal that it did not warrant value, nor contemplation. These individuals saw time is simply a measure of when to eat lunch. On the other hand, there existed those to whom Time was a precious treasure. It was something to be valued. It was something to be valued. The CEO of Arakyd Industries found himself a member of the latter camp; and as such he was dissatisfied. Darth Metus was a man who liked to be able to rely upon those he appointed.

He liked to place faith in their abilities: for that meant that his ability to choose was exceptional.

However, it seemed as though, for the first time in the history of his tenure as CEO...Those who he had appointed failed. The project undertaken on behalf of the First Order was one of utmost importance: one that would potentially cement a seat within the budding regime's hierarchy. Yet, despite the gravity of this project, it seemed as though the engineers were behind. They had failed to deliver even a single, complete Executrix-class Star Destroyer...and that was completely and totally unacceptable. As such, with time being as precious as it was, Darth Metus decided to see what the kark was causing the hold up.

 

[Malok]

In order to ascertain this particular piece of information, the Sith Lord had a variety of options.

Most in his position would simply delegate. They would demand that the next ranking individual demand that the next ranking individual demands that the next individual finds out what's going on. However, while this was the norm for most companies, it was a model that Darth Metus simply could not ascribe to at this time. There was simply too much at stake for him to bark an order at his subordinate and then play the waiting game until some semblance of results manifested. No, he needed to take a more hands-on approach to this situation.

So, with the easiest option out of the way, he had the option of starting a holo-conference.

Through this he could simultaneously sit down with each of the individuals in charge of the Executrix project. He could look them in the eye and demand an explanation for their failure. However, even this was not satisfactory to the Sith Lord; for excuses could easily be rehearsed and sputtered over the HoloNet. No, Darth Metus wanted a vastly more direct approach. As such, he cleared his schedule for the forseeable future and put together an itinerary. He was going to be taking a trip so that he might sit down, face-to-face, with those who had let him down.

 

[Malok]

Now, these destinations weren't corporate offices.

The Sith Lord had no intention with dealing in bureaucracy, excuses, or stacks of paper the size of a frigate. No, he wanted to get down to the issue immediately. That meant circumventing the supervisors and going straight to the workers. There was something to be said about those who were accomplishing the work that kept a corporation afloat. These fine individuals were often paid the least, given the smallest sum of benefits, and as such had no reason to withhold information from the superior of their superiors.

After all, what better way than to make the one with the whip squirm than to expose their karkery?

As such, the primary stop on the Sith Lord's voyage was the premier construction facility owned by Arakyd Industries. Now, while it did pale in comparison to the fabled Druckenwell Shipyards, it did a well enough job of producing vessels. Well enought that this facility was the unofficial headquarters of Arakyd Industries' research and development division. The Sith Lord placed such faith in this particular congregation of individuals, so much so that he allowed them to construct his personal vessel. Imagine his absolute disappointment when he found out that it was this facility that caused the problem.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves here.

 

[Malok]

As per the usual, the Sith Lord arrived with very minimal fanfare.

The Sentinel slid forth out of hyperspace in radio silence. After all, this was a surprise visit from the most high of the higher ups. Oh, Darth Metus could practically feel the tension multiply as he boarded the shuttle. It was as if he were about to dive into an ocean of problems...and boy did he loathe dealing with problems. However, the mantle of CEO sometimes demanded that he get his hands dirty; and this day was one such occassion. So, flanked by a single individual, he gave the signal for the shuttle to disembark from the Sentinel and voyage to the world below.

"Huh." came the silent expression of the Sith's vessel.

"What is it, Tara?" he inquired.

"If you tune your comm to this facility's frequency, you can hear them putting together their excuses."

"Fan-karking-tastic.

 

[Malok]

It did not take an eternity for the vessel to descend from the heavens above.

Hell, it didn't even take five minutes.

However, in that time, the facility had managed to put together a rather impressive pile of bull-poodoo. Having taken the suggestion of his vessel, the Sith Lord placed his personal comm in place and tuned it to the company channel. Boy, was this a show to listen to. First they wanted to blame shipping; as if to make it seem that ATC would ever falter in their duties. Then they wanted to blame proximity to what little remained of Republic space...as if holdings aligned with the Techno Union would ever be assaulted by those fools.

The list went on and on and on.

And if Darth Metus rolled his eyes any harder, he would make himself busy.

When it was all said and done, the shuttle came to a full and complete stop atop one of the several landing pads of the facility. Tara was the first to get out...and she was greeted by a rather familiar face. This was the man upon whom Darth Metus placed a great deal of trust: a man named Niles.

And he was not happy.

 

[Malok]

"Good Afternoon, Niles." Tara began, attempting to be polite.

"Kark this afternoon. Is he in there?" came his urgent response. An aging finger jabbed in the direction of the shuttle off of which she had just stepped.

"See for yourself." she said, standing aside.

The Head of Research & Development breathed a rather heavy breath, as if preparing for the absolute worst. He then stepped forward, rather boldly, upon the platform and onto the shuttle. There he was greeted with the sight of a man he had only ever seen over holo-call. "W-Whoa." he breathed. Now, Niles was old...and with age came a little bit of shrinkage. (Not that kind you perverts). He was not the tall, strapping man of his youth by any stretch of the imagination. The Sith Lord, on the other hand, loomed over him by a solid amount.

And when you happen to be the one responsible for a steaming pile of mess, that fact alone sends chills down the ol'spine.

 

[Malok]

"Niles."

The voice of the Sith Lord hissed forth from behind his helmet, seething with discontent. He was not thrilled to have come to this facility. He was not thrilled that his most recent project had been stalled for whatever-the-kark reason. His arms came to be folded before his chest and an impatient...yet disgustingly civil...tone was taken.

"What's the problem?"

"Problem? Ha. Problems is more like it."

"Niles..."

The tone was venemous.

"Being blunt, it's the hull. And we don't have a solid solution for it."

"This wouldn't happen to be one of those half-assed excuses I heard over the comm, is it?"

The Head of R&D swallowed hard, but shook his head.

 

[Malok]

"Alright. Walk me through it."

The Sith Lord then led the way off of the shuttle and motioned for his vessel to follow. Niles promptly took point, as he was familiar with the facility and Darth Metus was an esteemed guest. While Metus could probably figure out his way around given enough time...there wasn't time to spare. So, Niles led the way; and hopefully would be taking the head honcho directly to the source of the issue. For a few moments, the aging man was silent; as if collecting his thoughts. The Sith Lord sincerely hoped (for the sake of his trusted engineer) that this wasn't time spent formulating another excuse.

But only time would tell on that one.

"Alright, so we started with that recording you sent us. Quality stuff, as usual."

"Brown-nosing already?" scoffed Tara.

Niles let that one slide.

"At first, we thought that it was something completely doable. What's sixteen hundred meters when we've churned out three thousand, right? Well, it turns out that the desired materials have...well, it's been a crap-shoot boss."

"And I wasn't informed, why?"

"Who wants to make that HoloCall, boss?"

Fair enough.

 

[Malok]

"Continue."

At this point, the trio were moving through the "observationatory" path of the facility. It was one of those segments set up so that individuals in positions of authority could look down from on high, getting a general feel for the workspace. It was intimidating...and seen as condescending by many, but there wasn't anything that the Sith Lord would be doing about it at the moment. Frankly, he was more concerned with the absolute disaster that came into his view upon stepping upon the glorified scaffolding.

There was a skeleton.

Okay, not the remains of a human body, but rather the metal framework of a capital ship. Now, what was wrong with this picture? There wasn't a single karking plate on it. Not one. Now, the Sith Lord was not omniscient being, but he had a pretty decent idea of what was supposed to go on in his facilities. There was supposed to be raw materials to work with in abundance and a chaotic symphony of tools affixing plate after plate. Not so right now. Yeah, Niles had said there was a hull problem, but this wasn't a "problem". This was a karking disaster.

"A. Crap-Shoot. You. Say?"

 

[Malok]

Niles had the distinct notion that his superior was not going to be happy with the sight, but bringing him this way was a necessity.

It was one thing to explain the situation about the Hull...it was another thing to have one helluva visual aid to help in the diction. Motioning with an outstretched arm, the aging man took this as his opportunity to continue.

"I'll start by saying that this isn't the fault of the Republic being idiots. This isn't ATC slacking. This isn't anyone's fault but our own. My own, if you're in the mood for crucifixion. The problem with the Hull plating is that the facilities that make our hull plating aren't...capable...of fulfilling the order for Matrix Armor. They can't even get the Evasive Alusteel either. It's a great ambition, of that there's no doubt, but frankly we bit off more than we could chew in saying that mass-producing that kind of hull combo was possible."

"I bit off more than I could chew."

"So we've been trying and trying to get the foundries to rush production of those components. However, that's not going well. They can only do so much. And while we wait, there's no plating. No plating, no ship. It's been a nightmare, boss."

Tara literally slapped her palm to her forehead. Darth Metus shook his head.