The Sun and the Shields

[Master Buggie]

A strong-jawed Human touting himself as the Lord Regent stepped back from the podium and ceded it to a young woman, barely a child in Buggie's estimation. Despite her youth, the way the young woman carried herself in the regal attire that she had been adorned in suggested to his trained eye that she had been born into royalty. Each movement, each stride, seemed exact and calculated. Buggie had stood before audiences, but not like this. This young female stood before half of the inhabited galaxy, and her voice was steady and full of conviction as she began her address.

"...Today marks a new day in the Empire. Today marks a reunification in the government! A new era of cooperation between the Military and the politicians! A true, Sovereign, and whole Empire! And a new opening of availability for all armed forces!"

The holorecording cut out there, just before the roaring applause could test the limits of the audio system aboard Buggie's ship. The shipboard holoprojector's view now switched back to that of the Pirate Council, as a line of interference drifted from the bottom of the image slowly to the top before disappearing. The image twitched as three of the four Admirals in attendance looked at one another, their seats at the head of the table all filled by holobroadcasts of themselves from their respective flagships. Admiral Liszt was the first to speak, and announced that it was the opinion of the assembled admirals that the Empire could not be allowed to consolidate its power without some statement in opposition.

Mertaal, Admiral of Besh Fleet, had long since demanded of the Intelligence Operational Division that the Empire's Super Star Destroyer be tracked at all times and by whatever means necessary. Aurek Fleet had barely survived its encounter with the dreadnought, and the Blue Star Pirates could ill afford to suffer another defeat. The Ultimatum, as the Empire had dubbed the vessel, had been spotted within the Eshan system a short while after the battle within the Stensen Sector, in an apparent effort to bring the Echani worlds into the fold permanently after their rebellious machinations. While the Ultimatum had long since departed, its presence, along with the presence of a veteran stormtrooper batallion, had rankled some of the passionate separatists within the population, and it was on these worlds that the Admiralty proposed the Blue Star Pirates make their rebuttal to the Empire.

"The home systems of the Empress herself..." a member of the Pirate Council commented.

An infiltration of these systems would be bold, and even for the Blue Star Pirates, impossible, if not for the cooperation of these separatists already on the ground. The discussion of the Pirate Council centered around sending in a small team to make contact with the rebellious groups, though the challenge, which kept being repeated from a number of dissenting seats within the council's chambers, was that any infiltrators would stand out amongst the native Echani and Thyrsians. Attention would beget suspicion, and suspicion would lead to surveillance, thus endangering the entire endeavor.

A smile cracked at the head of the table, and a blue stone shimmered in the light, even visible through the holoprojector in Buggie's ship half a galaxy away. It seemed one of the admirals had a few ideas for that...

[Annan Rainwalker]

The Battlemistress
Unidentified city, Thyrsus
Thyrsus system, the Six Sisters

(Background Theme)

Unlike most cantinas, The Battlemistress had a more sober ambiance. It was smoky, like most cantinas, but not smoky enough that one could get high from just passively breathing the sticks. Pushers, dealers and buyers ploughed their trade as they did in dens such as these. Smugglers and gamblers, however, were relatively rare around these parts; the sun-baked continents, Echani Pride, and the Imperial presence, all acting as convincing deterrents for the rowdy crowd.

Yet, a crowd of its own kind was gathered around the holo in the center of the room. Today was the final of the Thrysus Throwdown, the grandest martial art tournament-oblique-talent show this side of the Inner Rim. All eyes, most of them silver, were glued to the holo, hearts pounding in chests as people argued on which of the finalists had the best form. Amrytha Rao's somber yet sensual battle-dance versus the mountain-steady footwork of Thrylas Rokk.

"Whoa, look at 'er move," aformulaic Echani murmured amidst the crowd as round of applause broke out at a particularly acrobatic side-step from Lady Rao. The ground visibly quaked through the holo, though, as Rokk's fist struck the spot where his firedancing opponent had been previously.

"Just you wait, Rokk's goin' to turn the lady into mush!" his companion responded gruffly.

Then suddenly, out of the blue, the holo of battling finalists frizzled out of view. In its place a tiny man stood, back straight and arms clasped behind, that all-knowing look in his eyes, that holier-than-thou sparkle on his chin all too glaring even through the holo, and garbed in the gaberwool uniform that many on the sun-kissed world had quickly come to despise.

<In the name of Her Imperial Highness, we interrupt our regularly scheduled holotransmission for this important announcement: the Thrysus Throwdown is no longer sanctioned as a legitimate sporting event within the jurisdiction of the Galactic Empire> the tiny holo-man announced, as the crowds swiftly erupted into bad-tempered boos and murderous cries. <We hereby reroute this holosignal to the Bastion Bowl-->

The sound of a crash.

"Hey!" a cantina barman protested as a bottle of fire-water sailed through the air and swiftly took out his prized holoprojector.

"ENOUGH OF THIS MADNESS!" one light-skinned woman shouted as she leapt onto a table. "Now they're telling us what to entertain ourselves with! They took our world! They took our pride! They snatched away our honour, stripping us of our right to govern ourselves by millennia-old traditions! They took our freedom, and now, they want to take our games? Our traditions?! This is what our mighty race has been reduced to?! Slaves for a puppet Empress, a traitor to her own people?!"

The battle cries, for Echani cheers were often synonymous with those, soon overtook the whole room, drowning out the music and also the helpless protests of the barman.