A Political Move

Starport -- New Alderaan: Ord Mantell
Four tall spires rise high above the starport's landing pads, denoting the four major sections of New Alderaan's starport. Each spire holds a control and radar tower, and is surrounded at its base with civilian-grade air defense weaponry and tractor beam controls for the larger vessels. Each spire operates a different section of the port, for ships ranging in size from capital scale vessels and bulk freighters to starfighters and light freighters. Each section is rated for a certain size range.

Situated between the four spires is a central terminal and concourse, where civilians can orchestrate travel plans and ship crews can coordinate business. Three maglev lines snake into the central terminal, providing ample travel options for those wishing to head into the city. Below it all is a subterranean facility for repair work, refueling, and cargo manifestation.

The sky is clear, with a gentle breeze blowing. A wispy, pinkish cloud occasionally appears overhead.

Characters:
Rasi, Ambrosia Delgard , Gabi

Also here: STARSHIP: Sardakh Kale-1 -- Razor's Edge

''This bluish tinted durasteel metal ship looks a bit like an elongated shuttle, with the center section arched into a dome. Detailed wings draw away from the center fuselage, thin, yet sturdy. At the front of the ship, the bubble shape of the cockpit can be seen, the light glinting off the lightly tinted windows. Above the cockpit, raised slightly from the hull, the flat black barrel of a single laser cannon can be seen. At the aft of the ship, a split tail rests between two, powerful looking engines, which look almost disproportionate to the rest of the ship.''

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While not as busy as the nearby commercial spaceport, the military base still saw its fair share of traffic, much of it at this moment consisted of shuttles flying back and forth between the base and a ship in orbit. The Deliverance, an older Mon Calamari-made star cruiser but a sturdy one, was on the verge of leaving and supplies and personnel were being delivered to it from the base thus explaining the high level of activity among the landing berths towards the south end of the base. Rasi, however, found himself almost on the opposite side of the base, he wasn't needed to oversee the Deliverance's preparations and he had a more important task. The man paced back and forth before a shuttle, not too spacious but neither was it small, the sun's setting light shining off the metallic hull of the vessel.

A lightly armored land cruiser hums its way through the starport's northern checkpoint, bearing two passengers. A small barge is towed behind a second craft, following closely behind, stacked with several large crates. The caravan steers course towards Rasi and the awaiting shuttle.

As soon as the vehicle pulls to a stop, the small army of loaders that were waiting beside the shuttle's ramp sprung into action. A repulsorlift buzzed back and forth as one by one the crates were transfered into the shuttle's cargo hold. Rasi himself stood aside from the loaders, watching them work before turning his attention back to the land cruiser's two passengers, a welcoming nod of his head addressed to the older of the two as he makes his way over.

"No running," Ambrosia warns to her daughter as Gabi slings a leg over the side and jumps out. She puts one foot forward, slowly, then engages in a very swift walk/skip after the loaders. Ambrosia, a bit less exuberant, calmly exits the vehicle and gestures a small wave to Rasi. Lips smiling but eyes half asleep, she pulls a satchel out after and slings it across her shoulders. "A good find, hmm?" she points to the shuttle and helps close the distance between them.

The child is watched warily as she passes him by, the memory of being almost felled by her still fresh enough that he makes sure to give her space though the wave is returned. "Yes, and you will approve of the pilot, a good man, served in the Navy for many years before retiring. The ship itself was taken from a smuggler we caught, so it's fast, and it can escape attention should your diplomatic efforts on Caspar not work out. May I help with that?", the satched pointed out as he extends his arms towards the ambassador, a few steps taken towards her once he sees her approaching.

Ambrosia looks at the shuttle a second time, appraising it more closely now that details of its origin are announced. "Well, that'll certainly get us where we need to go," she confirms, and after hesitation briefly over his offer for assistance, relinquishing the bag to him. "Thank you, Captain. Will you be joining us for an in flight debriefing, or are we to talk business after we've settled back into the Embassy? Gabi!" Jerking her attention from Rasi to the rambunctious ten year old standing under the ramp and peering up at the underbelly mechanics of the loading units, 'Ambassador' Delgard delivers a commanding *snap* of her fingers and Gabi reluctantly heels to.

"I will be going with you to the edge of the system, my ship will meet us there and pick me up. The Deliverance won't be going straight to Caspar for...various reasons I will explain when we get underway." A suitably-impressed look is shown at the way the child is brought under control. "I must congratulate you on your discipline, Ambassador. I'm certain that a few of our drill instructors could learn some things from you." A brief pause follows revealing the whole thing to be his awkward attempt at a joke. The satchel is slung over his own shoulder before he turns around and begins to walk to the vessel's ramp, "We've done our best to ensure it's as comfortable as can be, particularly for a child but it is not a perfect home."

Delgard's lips curl into a humored smile, nodding her appreciation of the jest. "Few things are, Captain, perfect, that is." Gabi's hand enters into her own and together they follow Rasi's lead. "I whole-heartedly agree that the sudden knock of 'Deliverance' upon the CDU's doorstep may not be exceedingly well-received," her suddenly honey-coated voice of diplomacy purrs, one brow risen slyly in the wake of a very small pun. "By more than one political party, if what our intelligence suspects is true."

Gabi tips her head aside, listening in on the grownup conversation while her eyes wander elsewhere, taking in the final scene of the world she's called home most of her memorable life.

"We'll be close enough that we can coordinate an emergency response and rally forces from nearby sectors, but yes, you're right.", he says, "The last thing we need is to have the Caspians suspect we're swooping in on their territory. Those people are...annoyingly obsessed with their independence." The crates are loaded by now, the loaders coming down the ramp with a now-empty repulsolift. On their heels was an older man, a spacer's non-descript clothes worn though at least they looked clean enough, there were no scars that could be seen on him but he was no stranger to fighting judging by the way he carried himself. "This the passenger, Captain?", the stranger giving the ambassador the once-over. "Ambassador Delgard, please allow me to present Mr. Stone."

Keeping her thoughts of the CDU to herself, Ambrosia nods quietly and shifts her focus to the man descending the ramp. She takes a couple steps closer, extending a hand in greeting. "Our pilot, I presume?" Gabi hangs back a tad, studying the sturdy stranger with unabashed, childlike intensity.

"Best pilot in the Navy too...well, back when I was in the navy anyway", a snicker added just for effect before the old man swings his gaze to the child, watching her before he makes a face of her, something between sticking his tongue out and scrunching his face tightly, the whole thing adding up to be quite memorable. "Come on, tyke. I'll let you watch me prep the ship for takeoff, might even let you be my co-pilot for the trip. Can't be worse than the last one, she was no better than blasted bantha po...er...she was just bad." An arched brow from Rasi cutting off the old pilot in the middle of a particularly pungent curse.

Gabi's emerald eyes grow into saucer-sized orbs and she wields them expertly, fixing Amber with the quivering gaze of overflowing joy...and expectation. Words needn't be spoken, but just for clarification, she blurts them out anyway. "C...can I, Mom?"

Ambassador Delgard disengages eye contact with her daughter to level a half-lidded stare on the veteran. "Yes..." she consents, voice thinly edged with the razor sharp, lethally silent 'if', a silent term of condition that is still above the child's detection, but will hopefully be caught by the 'mature' grownup responsible for their transport.

The syllable barely leaves her tongue before Gabi dashes up the ramp with a squeal.

A nod is directed at the ambassador, the pilot understanding clearly enough what was left unsaid. "Well, hopefully I did not make a grave mistake in asking him to work with you, Ambassador. I will make sure that he...moderates his langugage.", amusement heard easily enough in Rasi's words as he watches the veteran disappear deeper into the ship. And he soon begins to walk up the ramp though his pace is far more sedate. "At least she will not be bored during this trip."

"Yes, quite the contrary. He may be just what she needs. Kid fancies herself quite the pilot in her dreams. You should see the drawings she made me for the design of her room." Shaking her head, Ambrosia permits a smile to etch its way back into her slow-to-relax expression. "Her father's child, truly. Don't think I'll overturn too many stones searching for junked X or Y wing parts, but we'll see what's found in my spare time." And into the belly of the beast she goes, alongside Rasi.

The crates were arrayed on the perimeter of the cargo hold allowing ample space in its centre should the Ambassador desire to convert this space for something else. A small walkway led from the cargo hold deeper and the next area was a common room of sorts, various pieces of furnitures and cabinets welded into the bulkheads. "If you want to settle in, Ambassador. The private quarters are through there.", a walkway veering right pointed to and he handed over the satchel. "I'll tell Mr. Stone to take us off."

"Think I'll do just that." Taking Rasi's direction, Ambrosia goes to investigates their personal space on board the craft. "I'll meet you back in...there." Gesturing to the common room, she moves into the starboard corridor.

Sometime later

The trip well underway and cockpit no longer as entertaining, Gabi has made her retreat from the cockpit and is resting (presumably) in the cordoned-off "private" quarters onboard the shuttle. Having left her there after fishing several long minutes for her stuffed krayt dragon, Ambrosia returns to the common lounge and unceremoniously dumps herself into one of the cushy chairs. "At last, Captain, I believe we have some quiet time for business."

Rasi walked in moments before the Ambassador from the cockpit, a few last instructions relayed to the pilot before they made their jump to lightspeed. He follows the Ambassador's leader to one of the seats, the one opposite hers, "Yes. We will be jumping to hyperspace shortly, from there we will be proceeding to a waystation near the edge of Republic space where I will disembark. As for your precise mission. We believe that the Empire is preparing to accuse Caspar of aiding us in our rearmament by selling us weapons secretly. Likely its end game is to take control of the Union's entire territory. That cannot be allowed obviously."

"Obviously," Ambrosia agrees. Crossing one leg over the other, she nestles into the back cushion and cocks her head at a comfortable angle. "Are they? Supplying us with arms? The Empire may accuse all it likes, but in truth, as an independently governed entity, the CDU is free to trade and do business with whomever they arrange. It may, of course, have violated any pact they may have had with the Empire, though I suspect the present existance of such pact to be...unlikely."

"They are.", no point in hiding what she would find out soon enough for herself. "Not enough to impact things significantly but every little bit helps given what we will be doing over the coming months and years. And there is no pact, simply the fact that the Empire wishes to make clear that it is still the topdog." Rasi sits back in his chair, his hands joined together at his waist. "After retaking Corellia last year and...finding Chandrilla after it disappeared.", a long story there though not one that Rasi looked best pleased about judging by his furrowed brows. "Well, we're clawing back territory we've lost many years ago. Regain more sectors and we might even take the fight to the Core. The Empire cannot permit that and so it's going to dare us into intervening in Caspar, if we don't, we lose credibility and a lot of support. If we do, we risk an all-out battle we cannot afford quite yet."

"I was pleased to see our beachside property still existed on Corellia, after all that time..." Ambrosia notes as an aside, smile tempered, eyes downcast. She pulls a flask from the folds of her tunic and traces a finger over the initials etched into the brozned surface. "So my job is to instill a sense of self-worth and courage in the Caspian peoples, when the Empire makes the inevitable threat to crush their presidency, after breaking the populace's trust in it, and take them so generously under their smothering wings?"

"You are from there originally?", the man asks, "I must say that I did not expect that, I didn't detect the accent, there's also that...swagger that Corellians are known for.", a roll of his eyes showing what Rasi thought of Corellian swagger. "But yes, and keep the lines of communication open for as long as possible. Caspar must not give in to the Empire's threats and more importantly her people must not come to view the Republic as the reason for the suffering the Empire inflicts. Diplomacy and propaganda at the same time, essentially."

"I am not Corellian, no," Amber elaborates. "However, I traveled there frequently enough that after some years, it just made sense, as a nice, quiet place to get away...and eventually, a place for Ma's recovery. We had to move her, of course, when the Empire acquired it." Taking a conservative sip of whatever it is that she cradles in her palm, she reaches into another pocket and procures a small datapad. "As I said in the park, I'm going to need ammo. I know the Empire has been busy, and I need a list, if you would, of as many details of their more recent exploits as possible, as well as a refreshing summary of the last decade. Both publically-accessible information as well as any more secretive operations that your intel has uncovered...as much as I could refer to without jeopardizing any of our existing operations, of course. I want enough specifics, names, to remind the Caspians what it is the Empire does best, and why they are not going to be a worthwhile replacement for their current state of democracy. Also, you mentioned a slippery, smuggle sort of contact that would be in our benefit to ...employ? Or just buy them a drink?"

The motions of her finger over that flask is noted, and for a moment it almost seem as if he is about to ask more, but finally Rasi desists. "I am from Fondor myself so I understand what you must have gone through. I hope that when we reclaim my homeworld, my family there will not have suffered too much under Imperial rule." As for the other matter, he nods and reaches into his own jacket, a datapad not too dissimilar to the Ambassador's retrieved and a few taps on its large screen later he hands it over to the woman before reclaiming his seat. "That is all that we can disclose at the moment. Much of it is true, certain items we have taken creative license with and...exaggerated. Though knowing the Empire, I am fully certain that it matches up closely to what they do. 'Re-education centres' that are little more than prison camps, rife corruption, pseudo-slavery and outright slavery. We also list crackdowns on political dissidents across Imperial space."

A warm nod of empathy bobs Rasi's way as he shares his origin. "Pyrdir was my home..." she offers softly and accepts the datapad for reviewing, eyes scrolling the screen while he summarizes the contents. Her eyes narrow, warmth fading from their depths. "Creative license...No. No lies. The Emperor deals in lies, I won't. Moreover, if any one person on the street with any hacking capability or special contacts cross-checks my speech, we're going to look very foolish." Jaw set stubbornly, she begins to copy some of the information onto her own. "Slavery is an old, and yes, possibly still ongoing tune. I am living proof that it's a flawed system...not to mention cruel. No lies. I've had to live enough of them."

Visage turned to ice, she leans forward and offers him the datapad back. "We are better than that. Even when desperate."

A moment's silence greets the ambassador's words before finally Rasi nods, a reluctant nod but still one of agreement. "Very well.", he says, "No lies, no exaggerations though it makes the task somewhat harder. There are enough truths about the Empire's evils that with some hard work and luck you will be able to pull it off. Especially given how the Empire's methods tend to be self-defeating in the long term." Only then does he turn to the other part of her answer, the part that had him lean back in his seat with a slightly quizzical look to his features. "Living proof, how so?"

"I didn't always enjoy the posh lifestyle of a diplomat. It's almost "What do you know of that people and what makes those acquaintances interesting? I must admit that I am not very familiar with them on a cultural level. Some joint maneuvers in past years, officer exchange and things of the sort. But that only tells you how its military institutions behave, not much about the people." A few more mental notes made, the Ambassador's behaviour judged to be...odd but then people were allowed their oddities.

"Secrets, make those persons interesting. Looking back, I'd have slapped my younger self and told her to stay far, far away. As for the Sarian race, the 'native' residents of Caspar, there are several sub cultures of their people - each having evolved minute differences, based upon their ancestors' proximity to the stellar shockwave during the time it struck their place of origin, eons ago...so the stories say. They are the Casohavi, Metiahavi, Janhavi, and Eireahavi," she introduces, voice taking on the silken lilt of the Sarian language.

"Each group tends to exhibit different physical traits, minor things, and sometimes behavioral. Millenia of breeding with other human or near human races alters such things, over time, of course. As a whole, they are an extremely robust people - inside and out. Your true-hearted Sarian will not be easily swayed by material things. Difficult to corrupt with promises of wealth and power and shiny jewels. They prefer to avoid conflict, if possible, and thusly maintain their own government. As per their base values - again, as a 'whole', there are always exceptions - they would be more likely to side with the Republic objective than that of the Empire, given each political entity's track record for peace...and violence. Don't understimate the ferocity of a quiet soul, however...if provoked, they could be a forminable enemy. This I know." Tapping her knees, she stiffly stands and leaves her flask sitting in the chair behind her.even now, the number of years spent at each end of the ...spectrum. Before I ever sat at a desk, I learned to negotiate in other ways." Lips pulled into a smirk, she slides two fingers beneath the collar of her tunic and pulls it aside to better reveal the old, puckered line, burned round her throat's circumferance years ago.

"Still, my education did come in handy a time or two during my early years on Caspar. Made some interesting acquaintances." Rearranging her outerwear more appropriately, she salutes Rasi with her flask and takes a much more deliberate swallow.

"And the Empire might provoke them into thinking that we are to blame for the misery that it visits upon that people.", Rasi answers with a sigh, a shake of his head. "That cannot be allowed to happen, if it has Caspar, it would be able to launch attacks deep into Republic space and that would undo all the progress we've made over in recent years." He stands at that, rearranging the dark-green jacket of his uniform by pulling down on its hem. "I will go talk to Mr. Stone and give him the final instructions." Before beginning to walk away, he looks down at the flask she left on the chair she abandonned before turning his attention back to the ambassador, "There are a few more questions I have to ask you, but in the meantime get some rest. I wager that you will not see much of it once you get to Caspar."