Willem was tired, to be truthful. The entire day he had spent arguing with corrupted politicians about how the planet was going to be run again. He had fought for the past few days for a full turnaround on most issues concerning intra-aliens issues and was now actively fighting against rogue elements within the Muunilinst government. He still had not gotten used to the idea of him being in command of a planet, and already the strain was noticeable. Eyelids were heavy, the skin around his face becoming apparent with lack of sleep, and he just seemed to be too tired. But he continued to work, sitting at his desk, writing out forms on his datapad with a stylus in hand, a picture of his family, with members living and dead present on it, sitting on the desk facing towards the door. The window allowed the cityscape of the capital to flood in, covered by typical Muunilinst wet, rain weather. Next to a pitcher of water was a large book, the Imperial Codex of Ethics and Responsibilities; a book that Willem considered to be the Bible. He was waiting for his next appointment, one he was looking forward to.
   
The small device on his desk rung quietly, snapping his attention away from the datapad to the intercom system that he had within his room. He pressed a finger onto the red button next to the words written in freshly cut steel letters: TALK.
   
“Yes?”
   
“My Moff, you have…”
   
“For one, it’s sir. I am not Killian, I don’t need to hear that nonsense. And two, you don’t need to be that civil.”
   
“Right sir, but I have to maintain protocol. According to Imperial St…”
   
“Colonel Betruger is here, isn’t he?” Willem said with a smile, taking a look at another datapad as he looked at the door, as if he could see the Colonel behind it. He could imagine the ISB officer was staring right at the young secretary to follow protocol.
   
“Yes, sir.”
   
“Then send him in.”
   
The door opened automatically, allowing one second to pass before the white uniformed officer walked into the room. His eyes were of a hazel nature, his cheekbones highraised and his face holding the look of a man on the lookout. Willem figured this for his years spent in the ISB, but he knew Malcilom was a good man at his heart. A very good man. But being a good man was not as important as his position within ISB; one within the Oversight Commission.
   
“Is the room clean?”
   
“Lieutenant Vrtl already scanned it.”
   
“Good.” He replied, sitting down as the door closed, staring right at Willem as he began to speak.
   
Always one for protocol.
   
“Have you heard of a man named Vice Admiral Octavian?”
   
Willem sat still for a second, reaching under his desk for a large bottle, clear in colour and artistic in shape; a brown, charcoal colored liquid within the confines of the bottle. With that in one hand, Willem had two glasses in the other.
   
“Yes, he used to be a fleet commander in the…” Willem began to speak, popping off the top of the bottle and pouring in one glass, looking at the ISB Colonel before he was cut off.
   
“He’s gone rogue.” Betruger reported flatly, leaning forward a bit as Willem shrugged in reply. This was coming off of the Bacta War, and the news of Isard’s apparent death at the hands of the New Republic. Willem considered retirement, but when he learned further that the NR was directly responsible for Isard’s escape, and his growing obsession with finding someone to blame for the actions of his wife’s death, he fell on the conclusion that if the New Republic was more patient, something could have been done to prevent it.
   
And thus, it was their fault.
   
“But that’s not really the bad part; he wasn’t exactly an extraordinary fleet commander. It’s the fact that he has control of a volcanic planet with many moons. We…as being the Hawks that we are…” He coughed, looking around for a second, uttering the codename for the sub-sect of the Empire that was a direct opponent of Isard and many pro-New Order supporters of the Empire.
   
“…found out data concerning the Admiral’s plans. He’s mining out moons around that volcanic planet to send shipments of processed iron and materials right to shipyards.”
   
“What kind of capacity?”
   
“He has the capacity to build up a massive fleet in the span of a decade.”
   
This stunned Willem. The fact that a man like that could make a mark like that in the Galaxy was starling, even more so that he left to forge his own Empire.
   
But he was a traitor. Nothing more, and nothing else.”   
   
“We need a Patriot, not a simple fleet commander to take care of this situation. Do you have anyone in mind, Moff?”
   
To that question, Willem was speechless for a second, looking at his desk, a collection of holo displays pointed towards him, one in particular grabbing his attention. It was an old holo of him and a few of his ship commanders on shore leave, and all of them were leaning in for a picture, all of them having smiles. And only one of them was female, and then…he remembered her.
   
And then he smiled.
   
“Well, actually, I think I have just the person, and she'll be here soon…”

Re: We Felt Fear for the Last Time

Imperator II-class Star Destroyer Desolace, Muunilinst Orbit

Selaenia sat back and folded her arms as she nibbled on the soft pink flesh of her lower lip, carefully concentrating on the holographic images displayed on the circular table sitting before her. As always, her soft brown hair was carefully pulled back into a tight-fitting formation that kept it from interfering with her line of sight. Her crisp, neatly pressed black Imperial uniform and the DL-56 blaster gave her an intimidating look of severity that was offset by her soft feminine features. She crossed her legs as she sat forward and delicately fingered several small switches on the corner of the table, carefully selecting a red one in the left center. After flicking the switch, an armed Monnok stepped forward, brutally stabbing the figure in the adjacent tile with deadly accuracy. With one final stab by the Monnok to make sure it had finished off the other creature, it stepped forward into the tile it's dead foe had formerly held. A satisfied yet distorted smile appeared on Selaenia's face as she continued to bite down harder on the flesh of her lips. Smoothing a solitary wrinkle from her uniform, she slowly retracted herself into the comfort of a large black chair.

Sitting opposite of Selaenia, a silver-plated protocal droid shook her head and let out a mechanical sigh.

"Such unnecessary violence. Quite a vile game, this <i>Dejarik</i>. Wouldn't you agree?"

The soft hum of the droids voice offered Selaenia a little bit of comfort to the loneliness she felt deep within her soul. As the protocal droid raised a silver-plated finger to her silver-plated jaw and gently patted it contemplating her next move, Selaenia stood and walked to a small viewing-port in her private chambers. The jet-blck vacuum of space lingered behind the immense blue-green orb of Muunilinst as it carefully rotated on it's axis as it had for countless centuries prior. The system's sun cast it's bright light against half of the planet, leaving the other half dark and desolate.

 She closed her eyes, longing to feel it's warm embrace against her skin as she sat with her bare toes pressed into the moist sand of a lake's beaches. What she longed for more was the warming touch of her husbands hands against her cheekbones as he gently pulled her in for one of his soft tender kisses. Almost as if to simulate his hand running through her hair, Selaenia carefully lifted her hand, running it through the soft brown texture of her hair. As a few rogue clumps fell out of line, she twisted them tightly around her finger and then released them back to freedom. The protocal droid had failed to notice her lingering disinterest in the game, and jumped excitedly as her three-headed Ng'ok trudged forward and ripped the limbs from Selaenia's Savrip. As it's high pitched screams recalled her back to reality, Selaenia quickly pulled her hair back into it's neat formation and returned to her position at the Dejarik table.

"Good show indeed!" the excited hum of the droids voice almost sang.

"I thought you disliked Dejarik, Ann?"

"Hardly!" AN-1147 replied quickly, waving her droid hand dismissively. In a more serious tone, the droid continued. "Were you thinking about Master Naavi again?"

Selaenia nodded her head, clenched her jaw and stared down at the table, pretending to concentrate on her remaining pieces.

"If I may say so, Ma'am—-"

"You may not. That will be all Ann. We will finish the game tomorrow."

The droid lowered her head, but did not protest. Flicking the game board off, the pieces let out loud moans of discord and then vanished from the table. Selaenia still stared at it intently, as if she were still carefully contemplating her next move. It was only after the droid had waddled out of the room, and the hiss of the airlocks closed tightly did Selaenia dare to let a single tear trickle down her cheek and onto the table.

And with that single tear, she leaned back and allowed herself to cry…

Hours later, she emerged from her private chambers. Soft pink rings circled her eyes, and she dared to sniffle once or twice on her brisk stroll through the immense warships corridors. After almost twenty minutes of walking she stepped into her destination, preceded by several staunch salutes in her honor.

"Captain Naavi, your shuttle is almost ready. I've taken the liberty of arranging transportation from the landing pad to Moff Von Aath's offices in the governing districts. An armed escort—"

"No, I won't be needing an escort, Lieutenant. Thank you. That will be all."

The lieutenant saluted crisply, and started shouting orders as the loud engines of a Lambda-class Shuttle ignited in the docking bay. The unbearable  urge to cry still distorted her thoughts, something that she prayed her long-time friend and confidant Willem would be able to remedy with his kind words of wisdom and understanding. The unbearable loss of her husband had been shared with him, and the loss of his wife. And it was that deep understanding, and her unrelenting commitment to him that had drawn the two so closely together, even in the most troubling times of the Empire.

Offices of Moff Willem Von Aath, Approximately One Hour Later

A warm smile illuminated her face as Selaenia strode froward, flanked on either side by a small entourage of Stormtroopers. Though she had asked her lieutenant not to arrange for protection, he had done so anyway just as he had done for the last five years. His blatant disregard for her authority had surprisingly saved her life on countless occasions, and as she continued to walk through the complex she reminded herself to reprimand him thoroughly when she returned to her ship. Her visits to the surface were rare, and she considered it a rare privilege, taking in the sweet intoxicating taste of fresh air as many times as she could, savoring it's sweet feeling in her lungs before exhaling. The manufactured air aboard Imperial warships was high quality, but after several years aboard the ship it grew heavy and dank. How she hated the taste of manufactured air compared to the sweet sensation of air manufactured by the plants and animals of a planet.

"Selaenia, my child!" An elderly woman of significant weight, rosy red cheeks and salt and pepper hair greeted her most inappropriately with a big hug. Selaenia fumbled to maintain her composure, and carefully smoothed each and every wrinkle the woman had caused out of her uniform.

"It's good to see you Mrs. Filch, but kindly respect that I am in the service of the Imperial Navy."

"Ooh, of course…. Begging your pardon. It's just been ages since I've seen you. How is Ann?"

"She's well, is the Moff ready for me yet?"

The old woman nodded with an almost uncontainable joy as she tried disparately to suppress her excitement. Selaenia reached forward, quickly giving the woman one more hug while no one of authority was within sight. "I'll be sure to let the Moff know that you're keeping things nice and lean, Mrs. Filch."

"Not to worry about that, child! He's been too distracted to even notice. Send me a holo when you can dearie! It was good ta' see ya'."

Rounding the next corner, a sticky distaste in Selaenia's mouth stuck with her words as she approached the desk of the Moff's secretary. The secretary offered a half salute and didn't even look up from his datapad as she cleared her throat.

"I'm here to see the Moff. I believe you'll find that I have an appointment."

"Name?" The man's voice couldn't have sounded more annoyed.

"Captain Selaenia Naavi, of the Desolace." She emphasized her rank, though she knew it meant little to him.  She had been denied the respect of her position for countless years and had reluctantly grown used to it.

"Mmhmm… You're late."

"There wasn't a set time to be here, Mister?" Her question of his name, of course fell upon deaf ears.

"You'd think a so-called Captain of the Imperial Navy would be able to be on time. You would do well to remember that Moff Willem Von Aath is one of the most highly decorated and prestigious men in the Galactic Empire, and you should be ashamed of yo— Ugh… Gruugg… uccccckkkkkk….."

Had the secretary looked up from his ranting, he would have noticed the fuming red face of Selaenia. As he spoke, she reached across the counter and grabbed him by the throat, holding him at arms length and forcing him to look into her eyes. Though small, she had followed her training to the letter, and was more than capable of taking down a man twice her size if necessary. Utilizing several pressure points, she held his squirming body at bay as she spoke with fierce tenacity.

"You would do well to remember that I am a Captain in the Imperial Navy, and you are nothing more than a festering bowl of puss that sits behind a desk all day. While I am out defending the name of the Moff with my life, you date to sit here and tarnish his good name y greeting an honored guest with such despicable behavior! Mark my words, you will be spending the next several months working in the Spice mines."

Dropping him back into his seat as he gagged and gasped for air, Selaenia casually strode past him and through the airlocked doors of the Moff's office.

The secretary had felt fear for the first time…

Re: We Felt Fear for the Last Time

He pressed his finger down on the intercom switch, making it an active connection. He was about to open his lips and speak when he heard the voice speak almost immediately.
   
“You'd think a so-called Captain of the Imperial Navy would be able to be on time. You would do well to remember that Moff Willem Von Aath is one of the most highly decorated and prestigious men in the Galactic Empire, and you should be ashamed of yo— Ugh… Gruugg… uccccckkkkkk…..”
   
Colonel Betruger snapped his eyes towards the intercom when the secretary began to speak, taking his words a bit too seriously as someone trying to make a point. The Moff was leaning forward listening in carefully, his head and eyes looking at Betruger but his ears fully tuned in. When they heard the secretary begin to choke, both of them knew why, and both of them had a look of shocked surprise.
   
“Oh wow” Willem mouthed to Betruger, who leaned forward to listen to the further exchange.
   
“You would do well to remember that I am a Captain in the Imperial Navy, and you are nothing more than a festering bowl of puss that sits behind a desk all day. While I am out defending the name of the Moff with my life, you date to sit here and tarnish his good name y greeting an honored guest with such despicable behavior! Mark my words, you will be spending the next several months working in the Spice mines."
   
They both smiled, Betruger leaning back in his chair and Willem sitting back down, depressing his finger back onto the switch and removing it, the link from the outside of his office to him severed. He leaned back and looked at his datapad for a moment, his attention seemingly focused on it as Betruger curled his hands in front of his face, looking at them as one curled into a fist, the other clasping around it.
   
The doors opened to allow his guest to enter.
   
When he looked up, he smiled genuinely. He was happy to see an old friend like her enter his office, especially to talk. He didn’t have enough friends left from the war…not that it would matter. He had no doubt that the way both sides thought and acted, this war would involve his son’s children, and their children. Unless infighting broke out and destroyed all of us, Willem thought, as he stood up and walked around his desk, offering his hand to be shaken.
   
But Captain Naavi didn’t take it, instead wrapping her hands around his shoulder as she hugged him, Willem eagerly embracing her in kind.
   
She was like a daughter to him.
   
“Selaenia!” He exclaimed, now at arm’s length, making eye contact. He could easily see her eyes, the brown with green not clashing in his mind, but mixing carefully to make her seem more alive. He knew her too well; he could see the pink around them as well, and he knew she had been crying. But he wasn’t stupid; he wasn’t going to talk about that in front of Colonel Betruger. He didn’t suffer the loss of Coruscant as they did, and they certainly didn’t know each other.
   
“It is good to see you, Moff.” She said, diplomatically, not knowing of the ISB Colonel’s allegiances, but she only smiled and sat down, not giving a look to him at the moment. Willem folded one arm on his chest, the other letting a hand gesture towards Colonel Betruger.
   
“Captain, this is Colonel Betruger. He is a member of the ISB Internal Oversight Commission, but more importantly, he’s also a Knight. I trust him with all of the affairs that ISB throws at our little Order, and he manages to do some Intel work as well. He's the reason that we've haven't been ousted for our disloyal support for the 'New Order'.” Willem almost spat out the last words, but he didn't need to hide the fact that he didn't support it; Politically, he was a liberal maverick, going against convention.
   
Selaenia turned her head, and then held out her hand. Now she smiled at him, knowing that his allegiances were to the Patriots and therefore Willem’s ideals. If there was one person she had to trust, it would be the Moff, and he chooses his friend’s carefully.
   
“Captain Naavi.”
   
“Malcilom.” He replied, shaking her hand. He gave her a smile in return, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. He was a man of work, and lived his job. The smile seemed fake, but there was obvious respect in the firmness of his grip. Willem, sitting on the edge of his desk, activated a display, the room darkening. The room was filed with a giant visual of space, a star system.
   
“Now, what we have here is a star system that one former Vice Admiral, now a ‘Supreme Grand Admiral’ has control over. Normally, it’s a star system out in non-Imperial controlled space. We got more important things to worry about. But what got us really worried about this is that the planet…uhh…What was it, Colonel?”
   
“It’s not important. It’s in the datapad.” He spoke, standing up to move his hand to the second planet in the system. He expanded his fingers, the holofield now showing the planet and the objects orbiting it.
   
“He has control of some ships, but what has ISB worried is that he took a large contingent of Imperial and civilian engineers and robots, and is harvesting this volcanic planet for ore and materials. He’s…”
   
“He’s making the provisions for a whole fleet?” She asked, interrupting the Colonel. He only nodded in reply, not concerned that he was interrupted. "He could a massive fleet in a matter of years by himself…He could very well be a third faction in this war. Us…them…" She said for a moment, her tone darkening for a moment as she referenced the New Republic…"…and him."
   
“But the important part is that we, being the actual Imperial Navy, cannot send any real support to stop him,” Willem spoke next, picking right up where he left off. “We’re too busy right now fighting the New Republic. But we need someone to get in there and take care of the problem of this ‘Supreme Grand Admiral Octavian’. I told Betruger here before you arrived that you are a very capable commander, and you would be able to take control of this situation.” He turned his body around to press a small button, the room’s lighting returning to normal and the holofield disappearing from view.
   
“Do you accept the mission? I wouldn't ask it of you if I knew you could make it back.”