Anything But Kuat

[Fromikeable]

Horst had always hated offices. They reminded him too much of school, the oddly staunch scent that had reminiscent of scoldings and strong talks between his uncle and his teachers. They simply weren't nice places, particularly for soldiers. Everything was too organized, too well-cut and precise. Hard decisions were always made coldly, almost apathetically when the room was full of nothing but paperwork and whiteboards.

Maybe he was just too much of a Corellian. He wanted to get out of here, get on a ship, and get to doing something substantial.

Turning around in his chair, Horst glanced out at the city skyline through his window. Since his appointment, he had taken station in the Republic Defense Ministry, the building a stone's throw from the Senate. While the area reeked of politics, the worst politicians could manage to do within the Ministry was complain about budgets and research, occasionally making demands for specific, often odd tactical choices. Just today, a senator had come in demanding an entire army be stationed on Selonia for fear of misinformation campaigns. Not only had Horst regarded him with silence, but when the senator had called him out on as much, the Chairman had then asked him to leave.

Had it been his choice, Horst never would have let him enter the building without an actual, recorded reason. Friggin' bureaucrats.

"General, Admiral Saul Talion is here to see you." The receptionist Horst had been assigned, a kind young man with a thick Cerean accent, crackled over a small intercom on his desk. After a small sigh, Horst looked back over his shoulder.

"Send 'im in."

"Yessir."

Finally turning to face his desk, Horst idly organized a few papers. In truth, he'd been looking forward to this meeting all day. The Admiral's application for the Chiefs of Staff had caught him by surprise, to be sure, but he'd quickly grown to respect the man's record. Since the Senate had given him full nomination power for the vacant seats, he had become determined to damn politics and choose people purely on merit. Any committee that had a problem with that could bite him.

With that said, Saul appeared to come from money on Corellia. More than anything, Horst just wanted to see how humble a man like that could be.

[Harukei]

As the flames of reentry kissed the hull of the shuttle, Saul eased back and laid against the pilots seat. His hands steady over the controls as the controlled descent took him to the offices within Coruscant's military complex. As the ecumenopolis came closer into view, he had to remind himself of how little he liked the Capital of the Republic. The shining spires, massive complexes, and monuments to wars past and present were marvels of engineering, but underneath the gloss and the inevitable politics of the galactic center, the rotting scent of entropy and misery occasionally escaped. 

Directing the shuttle down, he caressed the fluffy clouds and descended even further, dodging the massive towards and spires that had ruptured the skies, finally allowing the ships automated systems to take due course and settle the ship in one of the hangar bays without much delay of time. As the ship settled down, Saul made his way down the ramp at the same time as the steam of the hydraulics escaped with a metallic whine, dashing before the officers and the honor guard that was still hastily assembling to greet him.

He really didn't have time for the pomp. Other flag officers might have delighted upon that, but was not one of them. Of course his hurry was not out of fear that without his leadership, his fleet would doomed. A moniker as the Fearless Fourth didn't came out of nothing, not even the best PR in the galaxy would do that, a part of him felt safe leaving command to Vice Admiral Mawikizi, he was older than him and prudent and certainly a good man. Still it didn't feel right to be away from his command and from the duty that it entailed. The Sith might have half the galaxy believing they were keeping to their treaties, but he did not believe it, no matter what politicians said on the matter.  

Crossing the complex in record time he was soon directed to the office of General Stellar and greeted by his Cerean receptionist. If by first impressions he had to run, the place was recently settled by the staff of the General and looking more as a sparsely occupied hospital than an office ran by a high ranking officer of the armed forces. He was quickly ushered in, taking his cap under the crook of his arm and presenting himself with impeccable poise accompanied by his cleaned service uniform, devoid of any decoration save the campaign ribbons and his upon his shoulders in the form of simple epaulettes. 

"General Horst." He said with a salute. "May I sit?" 

[Fromikeable]

At the sound of his office door opening, Horst stood. In walked the admiral in question, cap under his shoulder, hand up in a salute. Horst returned it with a quick one of his own, smirking at the Corellian's question.

"Nah, the chairs are just fer' show." Motioning at them, Horst sat back into his, implying that Saul ought to do the same.

Rough hands swiped up a holopad on Horst's desk, turning it on and flipping through the files contained within. Saul would no doubt recognize them as his records, featuring everything from his first set of grades from the academy to his most recent fleet movements. Projecting them to hover just over his desk, Horst was quiet for a moment as he reviewed, as if double-checking his own thinking. Being quick of it, the holopad flickered as Horst changed its mode, a login screen appearing. After a hidden password and a retinal scan, a galactic map popped up, filled to the brim with designated armies and fleets.

After a flick of his fingers, Horst directed the holo to zoom in on a particular point. The Fourth Fleet, its ships represented as simple blue holographic models.

"How's the Fourth, Admiral?" Leaning back in his chair, Horst peered over the hologram at Saul, a brow raised.

"They need anythin'?"

[Harukei]

The Admiral took a seat and allowed the General to begin. Even as they were backwards, Saul was able to recognize his records from the academy within the lambent shine of the holo-projection, which changed to the tactical disposition of his fleet. The hundreds of ships under his command placed in several battle groups for a larger projection of force as they guarded the frontier of the Republic's boarders. Patrol groups being the first line of defense while flotillas of frigates let by destroyers awaited to jump in for any enemy contact. Groups and units of carriers and cruisers awaited further behind ready to jump as well and all in various levels of readiness. 

"Eager and ready." The Admiral answered. "Only thing they need is someone to fight."

Almost everyone in the fleet was ready and sharp. If there was a thing that Saul took pride on was on the professionalism and eagerness to prove themselves of every crewman of the fleet, from the lowliest crewman that worked on sanitation to the firing control crew, from the newly minted recruits and green as grass officers to the battle hardened veterans. With constant drills he had managed that they way the fleet operated was nigh perfect, all working like a well oiled machine, even if it was in independent battle groups. The incidence of pirate and corsair attacks on the sectors under his jurisdiction was the lowest it had been in at least a decade, and several of his patrol and picket groups had detained smugglers. 

Saul set his eyes upon the man, and leaned against his chair and gave a wry smile. If he was going to report about his fleet, he could have done it as well from the bridge of his own cruiser. 

"Now if I may speak General. Why am I here?"

He took a casual tone, if would not be the first time he had gotten himself in trouble for speaking in that way to an officer that was of a higher rank than him, even if it was on paper. 

"I do love the excuse to visit my girls at the academy, I don't see them enough as I would like, but if you're going to drag me half-way through the galaxy to this cesspool of ass-kissing, you could at least offer me a couple fingers of whisky." 

[Fromikeable]

Horst seemed tense as the admiral responded, confirming that his fleet was set and ready to go. He expected no less; Saul was probably the least concerning officer in the Navy these days. He ran tight ships, good drills, and wasn't a hardass, and it showed through in spades with his sailors. Horst had almost found it a little frustrating when he'd taken the position and tried to transfer a few people out of the Fourth in a bid to spread the discipline around. Every attempt had been met by staunch opposition from the applicants.

It hadn't taken him very long to realize the Admiral's talent and abandon the attempts.

When their eyes met and Saul smirked, however, Horst's tension seemed to evaporate, the smirk spreading. The following direct question was much appreciated, and the remark about how insufferable Coruscant could be sealed the deal.

This guy was the genuine article. "That's more like it, Talion."

Snapping the holo off, Horst casually pushed it to the side of his desk before opening up one of the side drawers. Out came a bottle of Corellian whiskey (half empty) and two glasses, the latter of which were set out in a row before them. Spinning the top off the bottle, Horst poured them both a generous portion before setting it aside, taking up his glass and presenting a small cheer.

"Cheers." Taking a sip, Horst leaned back in own chair with a small sigh of satisfaction.

"Here's the deal. The Chancellor's putting a new set of Chiefs together." Resting his index finger on the rim of his whiskey glass, Horst rested a hand atop it on his desk, the other one rolling at the wrist in the air gently as he explained. "From what I hear, the old ones became pretty unpopular with the Senate after the Battle of Coruscant. Weren't canned right after the war ended because none of the politicians knew anythin' about rebuildin' the fleets. Don't know if that's true or not. Doesn't 'specially matter." The General gave a light shrug before sipping his drink again.

"Fact of the matter's that somehow, I wound up gettin' through the nomination process for Chief of General Staff, and we've got exactly nobody else at the moment. I ain't about to let that go unfixed." Horst's free hand motioned at the Admiral, his smile renewing.

"So I'm nominatin' you for Chief of the Navy. Figured I'd give you a shot to curse me out before you start gettin' calls from Senate's Military Appointment Committee." Horst knew he'd wanted to yell at someone when he'd realized that he had to deal with those morons.

[Harukei]

"Cheers." 

He would respond, raising his own glass before sipping the amber liquid. The Admiral registered the usual woody and spicy flavor that burned his throat, the very same flavor he had been so accustomed to find in Corellian whiskey's and suddenly he found himself approving of the selection and taste that Horst had when it came to liquors, at the very least he could count on the man to know his way around whisky.

When the explanation came his features turned more serious. The reminder of how the fleets and armies had suffered after the war had ended was not lost to him. Many good Flag Officers and fleets had been lost during the Sith onslaught through the Inner Rim, Core Worlds and Colony worlds of the Republic. The Battle of Coruscant had been a heroic effort by the haphazard and ad hoc defense fleet that had managed to slow down the invasion of important worlds like Fondor, Kuat, Corellia and Carida. When he had been promoted to Admiral, and being assigned as commander of the Fourth Fleet, he had seen the disrepair and massive work he had ahead of himself. 

However it the fact that he was being nominated for the position that made him widen his eyes slightly. He composed and gazed upon the liquid within the glass, the amber surface returning the gaze back at him. Become Chief of Naval Operations was not something he had ever expected to become, if he was honest with himself, leading his fleet had been the zenith of what he had tried to achieve. While there were some reservations, as well the politics with becoming the highest ranking Flag Officer of the Fleet, the first among equals, Saul failed to see who else would be ready for the position. All the other Admirals were too old or recently promoted and would feel that they deserved the role more than he did. At the end, it would not matter, he had dealt with politicians and bureaucrats before, he supposed he could do it again. 

Saul placed the glass against his lips and tilted it until her felt the familiar burn down his mouth and throat and looked at the man neutral look upon his features. 

"Well, that is such an honor." He said with a chuckle before a grin perched on his lips. "Why me though? No one else wanted the gig?"

[Fromikeable]

Wide eyes and a sip of his drink. Honestly, Horst had expected the reaction to be worse. He'd damn near had a heart attack when he'd received a message from the office of the Chancellor ordering him to come in. After he'd learned about what he'd been nominated for, his knee-jerk reaction had been to swear it off, yell at someone, and demand that they never think something so stupid again.

Obviously he'd changed his mind since then, but he still had his reservations about the job. Dealing with politicians was not his forte.

"Simple. I know you'll chew me out." Taking a nice draft of his own whiskey, Horst took a deep breath before continuing, trying to cobble together his thoughts in at least a semi-professional format.

"To make a long story short, there's only three admirals with the kinda' record and results I need for Chief. You, Admiral Tiberius, and Admiral Mulgrew." Holding up three fingers, Horst tapped on each as he spoke.

"Admiral Tiberius's a jackass. Woman couldn't take an order if it was spoon-fed to 'er with a straw, would rather smash her head through a door she didn't like, and couldn't sit still for two minutes if you bolted her ass to a durasteel gurder." Horst shook his head. "Could say the same about me, but I can shut up now and then. Tiberius keeps yellin' 'til everybody's dead or she's been outplayed."

"On the other hand, Admiral Mulgrew's a kiss-ass. Guy's never disagreed with a commander once, never spoken his damn mind about a stupid plan, n' jumps so high when you call his name that you'd swear he'd make it to orbit." Dropping two of his fingers, Horst pointed the final one at Saul.

"That leaves you, the guy that can make his own decisions without fuckin' over every other Republic force in the system." Taking a final sip of his drink, Horst nodded lightly at his own explanation, satisfied.

"Means more than you'd think when we're talkin' about full-scale galactic fronts."

[Harukei]

Saul took a deep draft of his whiskey as he heard the explanations and nodded. The woody and burning flavor of the beverage making a number that he was quick to readjust. And as much as he hated to give any credit to the explanation, Horst was correct in his assessment. He placed his glass over the table and leaned back, thinking an every single thing the General had said. 

Tiberius had been an Admiral, her record was almost unmatched, although her victories had come with a price. Her cavalier attitude had reduced a fleet that had been mighty to an ad hoc formation that could barely be called a Fleet, leaving it barely combat effective by the end of the war. In truth he found the woman rather obnoxious, even if she was her senior. 

Mulgrew however was another case. The Admiral had been a good man for what he knew, eager to please and agree. He would have not been surprised if he was married to a noble house from any of the core worlds of the Republic with connections to someone of high ranking of the Admiralty. His tactics were conservative and restrained and when it had fought, it usually did with other fleets, never alone. If his was the Fearless Fourth the Mulgrew's fleet was the Feeble Fifth. 

His mind tried to come with other admirals. But they were either too old, semi retired, or simply didn't follow the line of command as effectively as others did. 

"Well. Really can't argue with that." Saul chuckled. "I mean I rammed my ship against a Sith Destroyer, but Tiberius, she would toss herself through a torpedo tube with a vibro knife just to prove a point. And Mulgrew? He'd invited them to tea to avoid fighting them altogether."

Saul rubbed his temples for brief instance. 

"I suppose I will try to act surprised whenever I get that call from the Appointing Committee." 

[Fromikeable]

"Atta' guy. I think I was supposed to let them break the news officially, but fuck 'em." Offering a shrug, Horst polished off the last of his whiskey, sighing with satisfaction. Placing his glass back down on the desk, he paused for a second in consideration. With another lesser shrug, he uncapped the whiskey one more time, refilling both of their glasses before putting it away for good.

"Glad we're in agreement though. I wouldn't've forced you, but I reaaaaaally didn't wanna' have to put up with either of their shit." Mulgrew and Tiberius were good where they were; commanding individual fleets that could be given relatively specific tasks. Tiberius might have been a cowardly yes-man, but that made him paranoid and cautious, which was perfect for patrol and defense assignments. Mulgrew might have been a banshee-screeching wardog, but her aggression made her indispensable for offensive missions. Their problems were simple; they weren't flexible.

A problem Saul lacked, and therefore made him the prime candidate.

"The process oughta' take a while, if it's anythin' like mine was, but I can't see anybody putting up a real fight. You're probably gonna' have to answer some stupid questions and put up with a couple senators that'd sooner have you kissing Imperial moffs than fightin' 'em. But you'll handle 'em alright." Leaning forward in his chair, Horst came up close to his desk, lowering his voice.

"In the mean time, I asked you to come down for one other thing." Activating the holoprojector again, Horst called up the map anew. This time, however, it zoomed to a region of space devoid of Republic fleets, the only markings that of espionage, intelligence, and monitoring reports.

"How well do you know Tapani space?"

[Harukei]

Saul was gladdened that at the very least they were done with the offer. He supposed that once he had been officially instated he would need to look upon the current configuration of the fleets before drawing a plan in preparation for a more than eventual war with the Sith. Of course it was all theoretical, it would need much cooperation from admirals that had a more rogue streak about them when it came to deal with other officers of equal rank and that even did not took much notice on the first among peers. But at the very least he would not trouble himself with this, not now, not at this moment. 

However when the question about the Tapani space came, the Admiral could not avoid to raise an eyebrow and have a look of puzzlement drawn upon his features. There was a long list of things he could say about the Tapani sector, and not all of it flattering. He took another quick swig of the Corellian whisky and looked at Horst before finally setting on what to tell the man, leaving out the distaste that Republic officers had for soldiers that decided to run away from a war. 

"Plenty. Fondor's there."

Which was a shame, the Republic could use another world to built and repair more ships, Corellia, Rendili and Kuat did more than enough, but in his mind, Fondor would have been another great addition to outpace the Imperial war machine. Of course, there was more about the Tapani sector. 

"If you refer to their soldiers and their ships, they dress too prettily, they built their ships in that way, as if they are overcompensating for something." Saul said with a chuckle. "I also heard their Grand Prince is their Admiral, and that he walks around as if he had a stick up his ass."

[Fromikeable]

Fondor. Gods almighty, how the Senate had grilled him about Fondor. The way they'd yelled at him, Horst would've figured they blamed him for losing the shipyard, and he hadn't even been Chief at the time. The strategic loss of the planet couldn't be understated, especially given the navy's need to rebuild and expand. But more than that, losing Fondor had really been the biggest PR blow to Tapani going independent. A government had just decided that they could take one of the Republic's primary ship producers without a second thought, and ultimately, the Republic hadn't lifted a finger to stop them.

That stung something fierce, and it had shown.

"You're not wrong. Best not to tell him that when we see him though." Raising a finger to the holo, Horst pointed at Tapani itself. "Bastard's invited us to talk shop with him about a pirate group that's been in the sector since before they even seceded." Rows of intelligence appeared in light red, illustrating many reports of pirates in the area harassing Republic and Tapani shipping alike.

"Grand Prince says he's being nice n' asking for help because the legal border still hasn't been defined. Senators are sayin' we need to go to 'improve relations'." Horst snorted lightly at that, air-quotes accented his tone.

"Ask me? The royals want somebody else to get shot at for them, and the senators run chicken-shit if they even dream about the Grand Prince signing an agreement with the Empire. But these pirates have been makin' life hard for everybody for a good five years now, so..." Horst shrugged, giving a frank sigh.

"Any excuse to blow 'em to hell is a good excuse to me."

[Harukei]

"I will do my best to not call him that in person."

He really had no reason to do so, he had not met the man and he discounted much from rumors and gossips, he would rather get a measure of people by treating with them, but the sole fact that he and the Tapani had decided to get their own independence and not fight alongside the Republic was a negative point. And a point of friction that he was going to have to stress to his officers when he returned to his fleet. 

"Although I was under the impression the Tapani Royal Navy was 'far superior' to us. I am surprised they are calling us for support in this regard." 

Saul could not say he knew well enough the Tapani fleet to access its strengths. He had fought corsairs and pirates before and he understood that to face them, tactics needed to be as malleable as the forces a commander oversaw could allow him. He looked the hologram that contained the reports as how Pirate squadrons of no more than five ships moved in and looted Republic and Tapani transports alike from whatever goods they carried. 

The area was not one under his control. It was under the 14th Fleet and its patrol elements. Admiral Indara had been effective on quell smugglers and pirates, but not as effective as the Duro Admiral would have liked. He looked through the transports that had been hit and wondered if there was ever a connection. The Tapani fleet had not fared better to patrol the lanes for what he could see, there were gaps in some sections that he took for confidence. A fatal mistake with outlaws. 

"Do we know what the pirates looted from the freighters? Have our Tapani friends dignified themselves to tell us?"

[Fromikeable]

"We don't know anythin' yet. Haven't even gotten to sharing intel yet. Grand Prince made it very clear he wants to talk to us before the Republic does a thing." Fat lot of good that did them. They would have to bring a fleet closer the independent space regardless, but without proper intelligence, what the fleet's composition would have to be was a mystery. Just a task force? A ground force with support? A full-on fleet? There was no telling yet.

"It's less what they're stealin' and more how much, that's bothering Tapani. From the reports of the Republic ships they've hit, they go for just about everythin'." Booting up a holopad, Horst pulled up a couple of the biggest reports from Republic ships raided along the border. Most of them were large freighters of merchants trading with the independent sector, their cargo ranging from novelty items and food to guns and software. Sliding the pad toward Saul, Horst grunted.

"Personal opinion? The only reason these bastards are even a problem s'cause they're squattin' in the border zone." Leaning his chin on a hand, Horst rolled his free wrist. "The diplomats won't shut up about how careful we've got to be around it. Apparently nobody's ever bothered to exactly plot it out, so it's a lot of 'hey, that's my asteroid' bullshit at the moment." A finger pointed up at the holoprojection, noting a dashed radius about the sector.

"I've already called up the 14th about this. Indara says she can't put down military sensors according to law. Also can't go chasing any pirates she does detect into the border zone, so it's been a lot've her waiting to hear Republic emergency beacons. By that point, y'know-" The general shrugged.

"She's basically just been cleaning up escape pods and scrap metal. If we work with these guys, we'll at least get the legal case to cut through all the damn tape and turn whatever pirate base's out there into dust."

[Harukei]

"I suppose that's not so bad, assuming they want to work with us."

Saul was not entirely convinced that the Tapani would allow any squadron that was not under their control to do what needed to be done. Their uppity nature seemed to suggest that if there was any work to be done it was very likely that they would need to defer much to them with their presence be something more testimonial rather than actually helpful for the entire thing. However in case that they needed to move, he had to begin making plans. 

"Now, assuming they need our help, I can thing on some ideas on how best to hit the pirates."

He leaned in and begin to push commands into the data slate. The figures of the 4th Fleet began to rearrange as two groups on the crucial routes between the Sith controlled space and the Republic intertwined. The battle groups were now situated in range outside the Tapani sector, a theoretical jump away as ships began to trace ideal picket routes. 

"Battle groups Aurek and Besh would be my best bet. Their flexibility is their best asset, and that's what we need to counter the quick strikes of the corsairs." 

Of course, it was all theoretical at the moment. Saul knew quite well, and without a more complete data any naval formation, any stratagem he could use would be rather pointless. He needed the more concrete information from the Tapani. But an idea occurred to him as he reviewed his own tactics for a brief second.

"Wonder if that Grand Prince would hate to lose one of his old, unused freighters..." 

He muttered.

[Fromikeable]

Horst watched Saul as he worked, beholding the digitized Fourth Fleet split into two groups along the Tapani border. Planning now would be optimistic at best and disastrous at worst; they had no intel, no telemetry, and worse yet, no legal ability. As much as Horst would have liked to simply solve this problem the old-fashioned way, the aftermath of the war with the Imperials really had changed the landscape of the galaxy.

Autocratic bastards.

"If we wind up needing anybody out of Fourth, I'll make the requisitions. We're not about to go into this half cocke-" A small terminal on Horst's desk cut him off, ringing gently. Sitting up, the general tapped a small button on it.

"General Stellar."

"Sorry to interrupt, sir, but you wanted an update on the Flame?"

"Damn straight." Flashing a grin at Saul, Horst brought his chair closer to his desk. "What's the story, Colonel?"

"We fired up the engines this morning, sir. She just completed a service run to Kuat and back. No more issues with secondary propulsion systems."

"She's staying out of drydock, then?"

"Negative. Her hyperdrive coils still need to be retrofitted."

"Keep me posted." Glancing at Saul, Horst smiled. "I might swing down to take a look later today with some company." Hitting the terminal again, Horst sat back anew.

"I've got one other thing I want to show ya', Saul."

[Harukei]

Saul was dimly aware of the conversation. His mind still working on optimal conditions of the battle group at his disposal, his experience telling him that flexibility would be a deciding factor even when there was little to no intelligence about the patterns of attack that the pirates did. Nor if they were attacking any sort of freighter in specific. There were still many intangibles that the Admiral did not like, he would need to patient. 

When the conversation between the General and the Colonel ended, Saul could only raise an eyebrow. A thing to show him? He wondered what it could be? A new ship design perhaps? A better battlecruiser that had been developed in secret? If anything his interest was piqued by this development. Due his position and the deployment of every element of his fleet he had been ignorant to situations that the Admiralty had been working on. In all honesty he was fine by missing the politics if this Flame had been the end result of all the hushed whispers.

"What is it? A ship?"

He asked with some intrigue in his tone, deciding to follow the General to whatever the Flame was.               

[Fromikeable]

Horst just smirked. "It's more'n that, Saul-y boy." Waving at the man to follow him, Horst lead him out of the office, waving a quick goodbye to his secretary. The two of them made their way to the roof, where a waiting shuttle ushered them forward. From there, it was a short trip up into orbit, the city planet below them providing the only reference. As they soared onward, their shuttle broke off from the rest of the traffic, passing through a military checkpoint toward Coruscant's orbital drydock. It was no Corellia or Kuat, to be certain, but the large space station before them acted as an orbital military base, providing a nexus for the Republic's military ships and providing defense for the planet below.

"C'mere." Waving Saul toward the window of the shuttle, Horst smiled, looking down at his watch. "Think we made it just in time, too." For a minute, there was nothing, their shuttle stopping in space just beyond the station. At the helm, the pilots could be heard talking a little, giving off the occasional ETA. It was only when their radios lit up in a cacophony of signals that Horst patted Saul's back in excitement, renewing his insistence to look.

One second, there was nothing but empty space. The next minute, the space warped for a millisecond as it was filled in the blink of an eye with red, white, and golden metal. Jumping out of hyperspace, the ship that appeared before them was just as large as the station behind them, as tall and wide as could be seen. Dwarfing the shuttle by a factor of millions, the metal behemoth loomed large as its sublight engines could be seen firing, their glow like that of tiny suns. A supporting navy quickly came out of hyperspace beside it, the battleships within giving a point of reference to just how huge the ship was.

Along its bow, just below its command deck, it wore its name with pride. Enduring Flame was spelled in plain, bold font in striking gold letters, cutting through the red Corellian racing stripe that swiped across the ship's length.

"That never gets old." Horst's voice harkened back to his youth, sounding like he was just a young punk in the city drooling over his neighbor's impeccable new speeder. Their shuttle shuttered slightly as the pilots zipped toward the dreadnought, lining up with one of its hangars. They were followed by an armada of shuttles to and from the space station, the entire dreadnought suddenly abuzz with activity after its entrance.

Landing, Horst ushered Saul through the busy hangar, technicians and pilots scurrying to get things done. A lift ride later and they stood on the dreadnought's impressive bridge, crew manning every terminal and post imaginable. As they approached the center of it all, a large tactical holoprojector showing the ship, the system, the space station, Coruscant, and everything else that could be wish to known, the cadre of commanding officers stood at attention.

"General on deck." A set of salutes were fired at Horst and Saul. Horst dismissed them with a gruff "at ease" and a wave of his hand.

"Gents, meet Admiral Talion." Horst motioned at his company, the cadre of officers approaching him with outstretched hands. "You'll probably be calling him 'sir' by next month."

[Harukei]

The flight of the shuttle was a pleasant one if a dull one for a military vessel. The thing flew with the same grace of a sleeping hutt but faster and more secure than when flying though a fusillade of flak. He supposed that part of him that had once been a fighter pilot had yearned for a more exciting sort of flight, even if a ship like this had more armor rather than shields. Once the ship was released from the hold of gravity and atmosphere it glided in low orbit, the constant traffic of ships coming in an out becoming bolts and flashes against the starry stars that blinked in the distance. The voice of Horst took him out of his observance of the celestial objects. 

"In time? In time for what?"

He said as he got closer to the reinforced plasteel window of the shuttle, absently minding the chatter of the pilots that was but a distant white noise, a cacophony that he had become accustomed with throughout the thousands of hours serving upon a bridge. He felt the pat on his back and peered once more. And then he saw it. 

It was but a mere flash as space warped and bent unto itself and the radiant sun of the Galactic Center shone against something gold and red. It took him but a brief second to realized what it was, and what it meant, and for a instance he felt like a boy that watched the stuff of legends again. He wasn't a man to be impressed, he had seen much of the galaxy and done much fighting through half of it. But this made him open his mouth slightly in disbelief and pure awe to the extend that the ripples of energy and warped space that followed were nothing but an afterthought. 

For Saul the sudden appearance of the ship of such a colossal stature close to a planetary body had to be one of the best and most ballsy pieces of astronavigation he had ever seen, and for a man that prided himself on that, such would be a high praise. Even if later and with a cold mind he would remark of how reckless that was, even on a hyper space lane dedicated for military vessels. The orbital docks seemed comically small next to the gargantuan ship, as the Enduring Flame continued with such a slow advance. 

The Admiral watched with care as the shuttle zipped around the ship until it finally came to a soft landing on the main hangar. It would take them a few minutes but they finally would reach the bridge and in there, after the proper salutes, he stood alongside the command chair as the stations worked flawlessly in unison, coordinating the approaching vector if the dreadnought and the fleet as a whole. The things we could do with this. He pondered calmly. 

"This will do."


The Admiral turn to Horst and gave him a hint of a smile.