[fic] Unification

[Litofsky]

Prologue

 

The Director was sweating rather profusely, but justifiably so. Blood dripped in a steady stream from his right temple, and his normally slick hair was tangled, bound together by perspiration. Ignoring the death-screams of his guards outside the door, the Director set about on his final task. Rounding the corner of his massive desk and jumping into his rotating seat, he rapidly set about his computer files (after having entered the password in record-breaking speed), specifically the files pertaining to ship schematics, designs, and everything of the like.

 

However, the Kuati man's own paranoia had set itself against him, security measures that he had initiated years ago now preventing him from deleting his precious files from existence. Time, once his friend, now proudly called itself his foe, and, as the moments passed, the blaster shots outside his reinforced, durasteel door grew louder and louder.

 

Working frantically, the Director took no notice of his five remaining bodyguard's sobs. These men, trained to kill mercilessly, now had warm tears streaming down their faces, their final regrets strangling them in fatal combination of melancholy, dejection, and despondency.

 

Taking notice of the lack of sound outside the door, three guards took up flanking positions, creeping closer to the last remaining barrier between them and the revolutionary forces. Checking their weapons to make sure that they were still operational and set to kill, the guards said their final prayers to whatever deity they believed in, and prepared to give their lives for a man they barely knew.

 

A faint hiss in the direction of the entrance caused all of the guards to instinctively raise their rifles, but no enemy was to be had. Instead, they were surprised to see that the door had opened not more than half of a meter, which promptly shut after a slight object rolled in. Upon spotting a spherical object he Director's eyes widened, his pupils dilated, and he immediately ducked: the thermal detonator exploded not a moment later, instantly vaporizing the three guards that were foolish enough to stand so close to the door.

 

Daring to peer over his desk, the gray-haired Director, much to his horror, witnessed his final two guards' death: never having bothered to learn their names, he was unable to utter any final remarks as the one on the left took a blaster bolt to his chest, the other being finished with a single, precise shot to the head. In the wispy smoke the loomed from the thermal detonator's wake, all the Director could do was cry.

 

Scattering the remaining smoke, a ghostly figure appeared, blaster pistol in hand. Nodding to another pair of men outside, the armed pair of soldiers stepped to either side of the door, facing each other, so as to prevent any unwelcome intruders entering the most delicate interrogation that would soon take place.

 

As if on cue, Alexander Eirini strolled into the room. Stopping immediately before the Corellian Redwood desk, Eirini turned about, moved his hand over his throat in a rapid motion. Nodding, the leftmost guard reached for a control panel a meter away from the door, and pressed the button to secure the door from intruders.

 

Having already turned back to the crescent-shaped desk, Eirini rounded it and pulled the sniveling Director from his fetal position and into his chair. Tears, snot and blood poured down his face, but the Director dare not move to wipe them away: in fact, even if he had wanted to, he could not have. Fear petrified the Director, and earned him the scorn of the Revolution's leader.

 

"Oh, for pity's sake, Mr. Smith," Eirini pleaded, using the Director's surname so as to further debase the aristocrat, "calm yourself! I'm not going to shoot you... just yet."

 

The Director, his flow of tears now slowing, looked up at the assailant. Though he knew the man to be in his mid-thirties, he looked much younger. Eirini was tall for a Kuati: about one point six meters, with a full head of light messy brown hair. His cool blue eyes bore deep into bore into the Director, scrutinizing the man for who- or, rather, what- he really was.

 

When the Director spoke, it was with less power, less authority than was to be expected of his normal voice. "W-what is it t-that you want?"

 

Eirini scoffed. "Don't you dare to play games with me, Director. For thirty years, you've oppressed the people of Kuat. Perhaps not directly, as I'm sure you were about to respond, but indirectly, without a doubt. The Orbital Array has been a death trap for those workers sentenced to its facilities, when once they were the pinnacle of excellence, the model by which all other shipbuilding facilities in the Galaxy sought to overcome!"

 

The revolutionary set into himself pacing now, never once taking his eyes off of the feeble, incapable Mr. Smith. "Kuat has made billions, if not trillions of credits off of this war, and how does our society reflect this wealth? You've raised the taxes to over fifty percent of our income! No more, Director, shall your tyrannical reign imprison the Kuati people by sword or by tariff. Today, it all ends.

 

"Therefore, I present you with a rather simple choice, Director: your death is imminent, you know this. I can see it in your eyes. The manner of your death remains to be seen, however, and can be either painless or torturous. It is your level of cooperation that shall determine the quality of your final moments."

 

A suspiration of unparalleled proportions escaped the aristocrat's lungs, and he nodded, exhausted. "What is it that you wish me to do?"

 

"Within your computer is everything that the Orbital Array needs to function, from the schematics of every ship that you've ever built, to the schedules of all ships arriving in-system for the next month." Halting, Eirini reached into his back pocket, pulled out a personal datapad, and threw it onto the table. "Download all of the information onto the datapad. Every last drop."

 

His death nigh at hand, any remaining resistance that the Director might have fostered disappeared and dispersed, and, within the minute, Kuat's deepest, darkest secrets were located on Alexander Eirini's personal datapad.

 

The leader sighed expressively. "Then it is finished, Mr. Smith. As promised, I shall make your death quick."

 

From a holster on his hip, Eirini procured a blaster pistol, notable for its relatively long, slim barrel. Wiping the weapon with his shirt to remove any smudges from its silver painting, the Revolution's leader queried, "Have you any last words, Director?"

 

Allowing himself a last chuckle, the Director threatened, "The other members of the Aristocracy will never allow you to get away with this alive, Eirini. You will be dead before the sun sets."

 

It was Alexander Eirini, son of a school teacher, that had the last laugh in this battle. "Don't you know, Director? The others are already dead."

 

Eirini's pistol fired once, the bolt made contact with the Director's wrinkled forehead, and it was, for the time being, all over.

[CommanderQ]

Excellent first part, Litofsky! This definately sets the pace for the upcoming parts! I'm definately sitting on the edge of my seat for the next part due to the stories rather exciting premise here. I couldn't find much to correct on, so job well done there!

[Bee Hoon]

Very nice! I note that your fics tend to have powerful political overtones, and this one stays true to that tradition. There's a few mistakes (e.g. using you're instead of your), but the grammar and the writing are generally good. As is often the case with prologues, it's too brief to say much more, but I await coming chapters

 

P.S. Every last drop of information? Why not bit or something?

[Litofsky]

Excellent first part, Litofsky! This definately sets the pace for the upcoming parts! I'm definately sitting on the edge of my seat for the next part due to the stories rather exciting premise here. I couldn't find much to correct on, so job well done there!

 

Much thanks, Commander.

 

Very nice! I note that your fics tend to have powerful political overtones...

Well, as the fic progresses, politics will continue to play a large role in the story. After all, what is the Galaxy without failed attempts at diplomacy?

 

...and this one stays true to that tradition. There's a few mistakes (e.g. using you're instead of your), but the grammar and the writing are generally good. As is often the case with prologues, it's too brief to say much more, but I await coming chapters

 

I must rectify these mistakes immediately, Bee! Thank you for pointing them out to me.

 

P.S. Every last drop of information? Why not bit or something? [/QuOTE]

What good would the Kuat Drive Yards be if a single piece of information was missing from their databanks (especially if it was important, Bee)?

 

As for the next chapter, I shall begin working on it tonight. Hopefully, it'll be out before the week ends.

[Chevron 7 locke]

Beautiful...

[Bee Hoon]

I was commenting more on using "drops" actually. I would have expected a more technical term, but I am nitpicky like that

[Astor]

Uprising on Kuat? Coup?

 

I really liked it, especially Eirini... he seems like someone who has waited for that moment for a long time!

 

Looking forward to the next part!

[machievelli]

read

[Litofsky]

Thanks, guys. Just letting everyone know that I'm almost done the second part, which is mainly dialogue. A new government doesn't just set itself up, one should know.

[LordOfTheFish]

Bravo, Lit, bravo. The descriptions were great. A very captivating story. I look forward to more.

[Litofsky]

Chapter I: Foundations of Government

 

A gavel, constructed from the beautiful, nearly-extinct Ithorian maple, whose rich shade of carnelian was renowned from the furthest Outer Rim world to Coruscant, prized for its quality and durability, banged twice on the much cheaper table. Reasserting his position as the planet's leader, Eirini announced, "The Kuati Cabinet is now in session."

 

Four heads bobbed in unison, each acknowledging the dominance of Kuat's newest leader. Recumbent in his leather chair, Kuat's leader began, "It has occurred to me that, in the rapid conception of this government, you five have had little time to acquaint yourselves with each other. If it is not too troublesome (this, of course, meant that if the newly appointed Cabinet members wished to retain their positions, they would comply), share a little information with your colleagues. Agriculture," Eirini acknowledged first, "please, start us off."

 

A rather stocky woman, her weight the product of a lifetime of hard work, stood without comment. "The name's Amelia, nothing more. I was raised in the northern hemisphere, where my family and I ran a large farm on the banks of the Elin. I watched as my parents were driven to death by the Aristocracy's taxes, and for the past three decades, I've been working on ways to improve the harvest, and have been met with mixed results: looking back, Kuat is growing forty percent more than it was when I was born fifty years ago, but the Aristocracy took seventy-five percent for themselves. The Revolution has presented me an opportunity to earn an honest living, and for that, I am grateful and loyal to this government and its leader."

 

A middle-aged man with a pale complexion and dark hair took up the conversation next, thrumming his fingers on the oak table. Dr. Horton Sinclair began, "I grew up rather sheltered, in the Orbital Array itself. Both of my parents worked in the factories, and I had nothing to do for the days, seeing as how no form of social education existed. Therefore, I found solace and refuge in books, and learned most of what I know today from these novels- in fact, one might see me as an autodidact. During the final days of Director Benda, I was fortunate enough to 'relocate' several valuable novels from his Collectors before they were burned. I will be serving as Mr. Eirini's Minister of Education."

 

Located at the head of the table opposite Alexander sat a man who lay immersed in either deep thought or a state of total mental negation. Reclining in his chair sat General Leon Pano, his dark blue sleeves rolled right up to his even darker, scarred elbow. Leon's voice was rough, crass; hardened by the vicissitudes that had afflicted his existence. "My life has never been easy, and it never will be. I was sold into slavery at the ripe young age of five, and slew my 'master' not five years later. From that point forward, I traveled with a wandering band of mercenaries, learning the methods and art of combat. I wound up on Kuat a number of years ago, fleeing assassins that had been loosed upon me by a Coruscanti aristocrat. Know that for what he has done to me, I have pledged myself to ridding this Galaxy of men like him. As such, I hereby accept the position of General of the Army."

 

The last (but most certainly not least) member of the Cabinet pushed back away from the table. Her blond hair was pulled back in a pony-tail, and she wore a tight, black uniform symbolic of the Kuat Drive Yards' administration caste. Lalie Blissex, the final Blissex, whose engineering skills were sought after all across the Galaxy, spoke. "For just over ten years, I've been in service to the Director, overseeing the construction of scores of warships and have made modifications to dozens more. For the past five years, I've been Dockmaster of the Orbital Array, micromanaging nearly every aspect of this station. My father was personally murdered by the Director, and only the Aristocracy and their forces kept me from avenging his death. Thanks to your revolution, Eirini, not only has the Director's despotic reign been put to a forcible end, but all of Kuat- myself included- is now enjoying a level of social freedom never before seen. You have my eternal thanks, Alexander Eirini, and I will serve you faithfully as your Minister of Acquisition."

 

The formerly addressed leaned back, surveying his Cabinet: Eirini was sure that he had chosen the smartest, most talented, men and women on Kuat. And, as any leader should be, he was one hundred percent positive that they would help him achieve his ultimate goal. Arising from his chair, Eirini began meandering about one of the Orbital Array's many conference rooms (though, this one was more lavish than most, considering that it had been used almost exclusively by the Director).

 

Gazing at the multitude of twinkling jewels of light that dotted space, Kuat's leader queried, "Why is it, do you think, that I have crafted a bureaucracy of this magnitude and complexity, and have ignored the tantalizing possibility of carving up Kuat for my own, personal whims?"

 

Blissex quickly assaulted this question with assumptions of her own. "Is it, perhaps, because you wish to install a socialist form of government, as opposed to the previous dictatorship?"

 

Eirini was quick to dismiss this faulty reason. "Not in the least, my dear. Does anyone else have other theories to test?"

 

Chiming in, General Pano vociferated his opinion quite expertly. "I've seen tens of revolutions, most of them poorly planned and gory. Your 'Revolution,' Eirini, was relatively peaceful, brilliantly executed, and, above all, thought-out. There was no major infrastructure damage on either Kuat or on this Orbital Array. Therefore, one can assume that you intended to capture the planet relatively unscathed. Using the planet's facilities, I can only reason that you meant to build an empire."

 

One of Eirini's rare moments of bliss manifested itself in a smile. "In a manner of speaking, yes. Dr. Sinclair, have you heard of the Republic?"

 

Adjusting his glasses further up his nose (Eirini could not help but wonder if it was an automatic gesture from years of studying, or if it was a conscious attempt to bolster his standing amongst the other Cabinet members), the teacher (his final degree excluded) dove right into the ancient topic. "Lasting for approximately twenty-five millennium, the Republic was a conglomeration of star systems from the countless star systems of our Galaxy, gathered together to ensure smooth trade and assist each other in exploration and expansion.

 

"Currently, we rate years based on a specific point in Galactic history: the Battle of Yavin. History is somewhat skewed from that point on, but from what historians have been able to gather is that after that point, intergalactic politics took a turn for the worse. The Republic was permanently fractured, and all attempts to reform ultimately failed. The Jedi- the fabled protectors of the peace- retreated to worlds unknown, and the broken Republic fractured back into the individual planets and systems that had held it intact for so long. That Republic, Sir?"

 

Eirini nodded the affirmative, eyeing each of his individual Cabinet members, searching for any final traces of doubt. But he had chosen well, and Eirini knew that they would die for the man that had led them to a better life. "Ladies and gentlemen of Kuat," he announced, sweeping his hands up to the stars in a masterful gesticulation, "I plan to reforge the Galactic Republic. By any means necessary."

[Bee Hoon]

If it is not to troublesome

*too

A rather stocky woman (not portly, but of a large build, presumably from a lifetime of hard work)

We get the idea xD

and for the past three decades years

Oops!

Taking her seat, a middle-aged man with a pale complexion and dark hair took up the conversation.

This sounds rather fragmented.

no form of social education existed.

Then how did he learn to read?

learned most of what I know today from these book- in fact, one might see my as something of an autodidact.

*books, me

 

Benda=thing, object in Malay

 

having ignored the quite real possibility to achieve complete domination over the planet?"

It's awkward. I suggest: "and have ignored the chance to establish complete dominion over the planet". Or something like that You're smart, you surely can polish that line!

 

You used the word fractured twice in the same paragraph

 

All in all, Eirini sounds ambitious--and cunning. I wonder why he wants to reforge the Republic, and whether he will seek out the Jedi. I do hope to see more of his Cabinet, as they sound like promising characters, especially Lalie Blissex. Their individual tales were a good way to recount life under the Aristocracy. A good set-up, but I shall have to wait for MOAR plot!

[Litofsky]

Egads, Bee, many thanks to you! I suppose that's what I get for writing when I do. :/

 

*goes back, takes many a minute to correct afflicted areas*

 

At any rate, thanks for reading, Bee. Moar plot shall make its (debut) in the next chapter, or, rather, the main plot shall be born, at the very least.

 

EDIT: In order to simplify the command structure, I went back into the Prologue and removed "Dnar" as a character.

[Litofsky]

Chapter II: Acquisition

 

Reclining lazily in his chair, Eirini sat silently in his chair, sipping from a mug whilst watching a convoy of some two dozen ships accelerate out-system, preparing to make the jump to Hyperspace. Gripping the glass of warm, Kuati milk, the leader watched as each ship vanished into the tantalizing lights of superluminal travel.

 

The last vessel fading from view, Eirini spun in his chair, observing his office without actually comprehending anything. Instead, his mind was occupied on the subject of his next move, leaving his fingers to aimlessly play with a sheathed rapier that he had found hidden in the late-Director's room.

 

For immeasurable moments the man contemplated, cross-referencing theories with pre-existing databases, toiling tirelessly, minimizing all potential flaws. By morn, Eirini's mug was drained to the last drop, his eyelids hung over their charge with a seemingly unconquerable weight, and his muscles ached with the dull throb of exhaustion.

 

Alas, the work of a politician knows no boundaries, and, as such, it was much to Eirini's repugnance when he discovered that a meeting had been scheduled at precisely the time of his planned respite. Rubbing his eyes with trembling palms, it was some time after Lalie Blissex and General Pano had entered his office and taken their seats directly across from him that a form of basic conversation was actually initiated.

 

The sheer vehemence that resounded forth from Blissex caught Eirini off guard. "Your ignorance, your stupidity has jeopardized our lives and the cause for which you stand! Had not your time been preoccupied with the menial issue of socialized education, our fleet would have conquered the Mid Rim!"

 

For but a moment, Kuat's leader gazed deeply into Blissex's eyes, forcing her into a psychological retreat. With soft words, Eirini informed his assaulter, "Such insults, Ms. Blissex, will not be tolerated- will never be tolerated in my presence again. I am a reasonable, logical man, and your insults do neither of us justice. If you have concluded that I delayed merely to institute a series of academies across the planet, forsaking the development of the Armed Forces in lieu of 'menial issues,' than I cannot help but wonder if appointing you to such a critical post was a mistake."

 

Ignoring the deflated woman and her scorn, Eirini gripped the immobile weapon on his desk by its pommel and unsheathed with a rapid flick of the wrist. A flash of metal brought the slight sword to Lalie's carotid artery, and, using this leverage, Kuat’s leader edged her chin up, forcing the engineer to meet his gaze once more.

 

Dominance asserted and the point made, Eirini removed the blade from Blissex’s neck, counseling, "I tolerate you now if only because our fates our intertwined, and that your engineering successes can be directly translated as tactical victories. Should you accomplish anything less than absolute perfection in your task, Ms. Blissex, our potential will be dashed upon the jagged crags of oversight."

 

The 'pleasantries' dispensed with, Kuat's leader reached down and lifted up his subjugated foe. Almost cheerily, Eirini began, "It has come to my attention that, during your brief period of autonomy, your department has compiled a list of vessels that fit our rather specific limitations. If you would," he bade, beckoning towards the circular, holographic projector located in the precise center of the room.

 

And so, slightly renewed in spirits by the gesture, Blissex carefully detailed the two major ships that the Kuat Drive Yards would begin producing. "For many centuries before these dark ages that have befallen us, Kuat's facilities were the source of many marvels of engineering, and bore witness to the birth of countless military- and civilian- vessels. Based on the recent delivery of essential resources, the remaining balance of the planet's coffers, and overall production capability versus the necessity of such ships, the Department of Acquisition has chosen two extremely capable vessels from our databanks for our capital ships- the remaining lines shall wait for a later time."

 

With both Pano and Eirini observing intently, unflinching even as the lights dimmed, Lalie exclaimed, "Behold, the Venator-class Star Destroyer! Nearly a millennium ago, this ship flooded through the Galaxy by the thousands, crushing an insurrection that exsanguinated the Republic, requiring a transfusion of political upheaval that would usher the known universe into an unparalleled age of war. But I digress: this magnificent ship is not only a capable destroyer, but doubles as a carrier, and was responsible for the fall of countless worlds in both the Inner and Outer Rim. At over one kilometer in length and relatively cheap in comparison to other, more warships, this particular vessel will serve as the mainstay of the Navy."

 

Her tone changing, hinting at a slight heightening in anticipation, Blissex unveiled the final ship that she had prepared. "Built with a century of the Venator, the final ship that I have selected was capable of combating the vaunted Imperial Star Destroyer, while just 65% of its length, sizing out at one thousand forty meters. Scores of turbolasers, ion cannons, and anti-ship armaments inhabit these fearsome warships known as the Nebula-class Star Destroyers, and they have the capability to hold three scores of starfighters within their hangars."

 

The lights returning to their former luminosity, Eirini clapped softly. "Bravo, Ms. Blissex. Preliminary reports place the final production for a dozen warships within two months, do they not?" An affirmative nod. "And, General Pano, the officers and troops shall complete their training within that same time period, will they not?"

 

After receiving another confirmation, Eirini beckoned the two Ministers back towards his desk, and, after another moment of silence, outlined his plan, not a single detail out of place- for what would a puzzle be should the last piece be missing?

 

When, at last, an hour later, the plans intricate details had been concluded and memorized, General Pano was the first to break the silence. "Dammit, Eirini, this whole plan gives me a bad feeling. Taking advantage of Balmorra's goodwill, its charity? Why can’t we attack like honest men, instead of this sneaking crap?”

 

Washing over the man's objections like the flowing waters of a river eventually smooth the pebble, Eirini proposed, "If we do not act first, Leon, then someone else will, and any hope we have of restoring order will perish. Go now, and take whatever steps are necessary in order to accomplish this plan." After they were out of audible range, he added, "And may the Force be with you."

[Rev7]

You know, I was thinking about maybe trying to put together a story that focused on the political/government of Star Wars a few days ago. Just thoughts, BTW. Then I ran into this today...I applaud you Litofsky. Hard topic to write about, but so far it is entertaining and has been a pleasure to read. Looking forward to more chapters!