[center][h2][b]Prelude to War Pt 1[/b][/h2][/center]

Taking up positions before Miryia's speech, Raveem had been busy thinking about his dream still. He didn't understand why it had lingered. Was it the holocron? The writings on the wall? Something else? The Bothan looked around, there was excitement in the air. People were expecting a great many things from this speech. One of his hands reached for his DT-29, just to have something to grasp at. There was an uncharacteristic uneasiness to him that, with great effort on his part, he was able to hide. The Bothan forced himself to focus. Focus on the crowd. The steps. The grand doors. The figure of Miryia emerging to speak to the gathered crowd. It was working. Raveem managed to relax and concentrate. For now, those disturbing memories had vanished in the infinite abyss, hopefully to never be seen again. 

On the other side was Admiral Gable Karius. He wasn't there by choice, rather he was there for two reasons. One, Cannady, the bright young Captain of Purple Squadron, had strongly suggested he attend. Last night, during a dinner with his officers, the Captain had pressed Karius to attend the gathering after the Admiral made an off-comment of skipping the speech altogether. The Captain had mentioned something about 'presence' and 'image.' It all sounded like pompous unnecessary nonsense. While he had told Cannady he would consider it, Karius had decided last minute to appear, though reluctantly. The Empire needed inspiration, but all this show would be for nothing if there was no substance. Of course, Karius didn't underestimate Janus. He had seen her in battle. Had glimpsed into her intentions. The Admiral knew too well she wouldn't disappoint, yet, no one would ever convince the man all this was necessary. 

Cardinal, who was standing alongside his men, proudly wearing his polished armored with blue stripes, held his helmet under his arm and his rifle in the other. He felt a certain anxiety that made his heart race. The anticipation for the speech was hard to contain and his hope for redemption appeared only one step away. For a brief moment, the man glanced behind him, seeing the faces of the 501st. There was determination and hope in those faces. This Legion had been deprived of victories since the death of Vader, and ever since Onderon, Cardinal had been itching to get back into the field. He knew his men shared the sentiment. Every man and woman in the venerable 501st Legion wanted to fight. Bleed for an Empire that had known nothing but defeat over the last few months. In the Pontifex Invictus, they had seen an opportunity to recover that lost glory. As he waited, he recalled his time with Darth Vader. Their fearless leader who, without hesitation, would cut down entire legions of Rebels and Jedi, with the 501st watching his back. He couldn't wait to feel that rush again. Placing his rifle to his belt, Cardinal reached for his rank plaque, his gloved hand feeling the colored squares. "Grand General…" He whispered to himself. A rank he never thought he would even have the opportunity to reach. To think, that only a few years ago, he was some kid in Tatooine working on his parent's moisture farm… 

At the end of the speech, Raveem began to walk back to his speeder. He had one more brief stop before heading out to the fleet in orbit. Before he could get there, he was stopped by a familiar face. General Rom Mohc, the veteran of the Clone Wars, head of the Dark Trooper program and known associate of Imperial Intelligence Director, Ysanne Isard. The two appeared to simply be crossing paths, but the way he moved suggested otherwise. 

"Director? A word." The man spoke, stopping right in Vas'ah's way. The Bothan put a few feet of distance between the two of them. While he did not expect an assassination attempt from a man known for his honor, he did so as a symbolic gesture. It was something he had picked up from one of his ancestors. The man was obsessed with protocol and etiquette and had written a book on the subject shortly before his death. 

"Greetings, General. How may I help a member of the Isard Fan Club?" Raveem replied tilting his head to the side, closed fists placed to either side of his hips. The Bothan suppressed a smile when he saw the General's brow twitch. He was annoyed and the implication that he was some obedient Vornskr at Isard's beck and call infuriated him further. But, Raveem knew the man wanted [i]something[/i] out of him, and thus too important to simply beat into a bloody pulp. Even if the General wished to do so right now. 

"I will keep this short, we don't have much time. I-" The General was abruptly interrupted as the Bothan raised a finger and spoke before he could continue. 

"On the contrary, you may not have time. But, I have all the time in the world. Perhaps…" The edges of his lips formed into a wicked grin. "...you don't, however." 

The general bore his teeth in an angry growl. He was losing his patience. All he wanted to do was grip the moose's furry neck and tear it off his body like he used to do with Battle Droids during the Clone War. But he told himself to calm down. This was too important, and he couldn't allow the xeno to wind him up. 
"I have information that may be of your interest. Something that, in the hands of Isard, may prove problematic to you and your Arkanian mistress." Mohc paused, reaching toward one of his data cylinders tucked into his tunic. When he pulled it out, he hid it in his fist. "But before I give it to you, I want something in return." 

Raveem had stayed silent throughout all that. He'd never seen things that way before. The new perspective made him think about his position in the Empire at the moment. Mohc believed he was just another subordinate to Miryia. Was that the impression he gave to others? That he was simply a lackey? Raveem giggled at the notion when he realized. If that was the case, then he would be able to move easier against the enemies of the Empire. To be disregarded was an advantage in itself. It would allow him to operate behind bigger players and strike without being expected. Perfect. 
"Oh… oh my. You want something in return?" Raveem gave the General a smile and seemingly forced the man to take a step back. "Now, pray tell, what might that be? Credits? Perhaps a cozy seat somewhere within our bureaucratic behemoth? Or, perhaps you are looking for something simpler…" As the Bothan spoke, his eyes focused on a particularly twitchy Imperial officer heading toward the transports. But then, he turned and looked at Mohc right in the eyes, a full grin on his face. "Protection." 
The older General's brow furrowed. A yes, in Raveem's book. 
"I see you've finally realized Isard's true nature. But don't worry, I am a son of House Vas'ah. We can come to an agreement." A gloved hand outstretched out toward Mohc, who reluctantly handed over the cylinder. 
Reaching for his utility belt, Raveem picked up his pad and after introducing the data cylinder, he began to review the information. With every bit of data he found, his smile grew wider and wider. 
"Thank you for your patronage, General. This… should do nicely." Raveem said, his eyes focused on the screen still. 

"Is it a deal, then?" Mohc asked impatiently, though he attempted to hide it. 

Raveem closed the distance, placing a hand to his shoulder and meeting his eyes. "General, you and I are going to do a great many things together." He emphasized 'things' with a wide-eyed glance. "Now, you go on and keep working as normal. I will send someone over and we can talk later." 

"How do I know you will keep your word?" The General asked, trying to seem unfazed by the Director's behavior, but he found his own body trying to get away. He could barely hold eye contact with the man. There was something deeply wrong in Raveem's eyes, but he couldn't place it. Whether it was his xeno nature or simple madness, he couldn't know. 

Raveem patted his shoulder and placed the pad back on his belt. With a smile, he began to make his way back to the speeder. "Don't worry, General! I am a Vas'ah! You can trust me!" 

As he departed, Mohc sighed. While he believed speaking with the Bothan would give him some relief, he found himself more tense than ever. Perhaps this had been a mistake. But, his instincts told him otherwise. 


When the speech had ended, Karius was one of the first to head to the transports. His personal Lambda-class shuttle was waiting for him nearby and he quickly boarded it. Pulling up his communicator, the Admiral got into contact with Captain Moden Canady, the aide de camp of the Admiral. 

"Sir?" Said Canady, the miniaturized hologram from the emitter distorting slightly as the ship took off. 

"Captain, what is the status of the fleet?" He asked as the shuttle broke through the atmosphere and headed toward the Intrepid in orbit. 

Cannady glanced behind him as a junior officer handed him a pad. Looking over it quickly, Cannady turned back to Karius. 
"There was a fire in the engine room of the The Ark, an Imperial-I Star Destroyer. However, it was put out and emergency repairs are underway." The Captain paused, going through the other reports. "Otherwise, all officers have reported in. Green across the board, sir." 

Karius narrowed his eyes. This was a convenient time for an engine room fire. It was suspicious to say the least, and even if it had been a mere accident, he had no tolerance for incompetency or complacency. "Who commands The Ark?" He asked, glancing out the window as his shuttle approached The Intrepid's hangar. 

"Captain Duvat, sir." 

"Hmm…" Karius rubbed his chin with his cybernetic arm. Duvat had been recently promoted to the post by Imperial High Command. The man had fought at Endor and had succeeded the previous officer of The Ark after he was killed in action. Duvat was in Purple Squadron, not by choice, but by the insistence of Imperial High Command. Regardless, all officers within the fleet would follow his rules. 
"Send a team to The Ark from The Intrepid. I want the fire investigated and all information forwarded to the ISB." 

"And not Imperial Intelligence?" Cannady asked, sounding a little surprised. 

"No. That woman is duplicitous. At the very least, I know that the Bothan can be trusted." Karius said that with a cautious tone. Even when Raveem had clearly positioned himself on "their side", he still had his doubts. As of yet, he couldn't ascertain his goals. The man was a mystery. 

While Cannady has his doubts over the decision, he chose not to inquire further. "Right away, sir." 

Ending the communication, the thought of Isard remained in his mind, even as he walked into The Intrepid's internal main bridge. As he was greeted by his officers, he thought about the two women vying for the very soul of the Empire. That Bothan had set in motion a series of events that would make or break the Empire. Whatever happened, he was not looking forward to it. While he was a loyal officer of the Empire, he had never concerned himself with matters of politics. He was a soldier. A navy officer first and foremost. Yet, he had become embroiled in the schemes of both Janus and Vas'ah simply by being there. Glancing at the large screen displaying space before him, he took a deep breath and relaxed. Right now, he needed to focus on the present. The future could wait.