[X] [Fleet] Admiral Vaere will initiate a fleet exercise.
[X] [Fleet] Admiral Vaere will be personally touring the fleet and conducting inspections.
[X] [Strike] Dispatch Strike Wing to conduct raids against Hydian Oversector forces
[X] [Strike] Dispatch Strike Wing to conduct reconnaissance of Hydian Oversector force
I agree that we set it up well Operation Black Fire would mean the lest amount of casualties on our side in terms of ships and man power which is why I am arguing for it and concentrating the Strike Wing on putting the battle in our favor.
I agree, but I feel that having Inferno Squad (who are skilled pilots and have an extra corvette on top of that) will be a valuable means of getting an extra vector of attack, so we should get them on side instead of reconnoitering territory we don't intend to fight in.
Edit: Also, we probably shouldn't overuse Strike Wing, since they'll be needed for the battle.
Just found this quest, sad to have missed the most recent week of scheming but eager for what's to come.
I am most curious as to how having someone with even partial knowledge of Op:Cinder will play out when it comes time for the New Republic to come knocking, as well as how badly the Imperial Intelligence will react to learning how very quickly Palpatine's scorched earth policy kicked into gear without them.
The first update is "finished", covering events before the battle, but there's enough going on that I want to sleep on it and/or get a read through of it from someone else. Will post tomorrow
The first update is "finished", covering events before the battle, but there's enough going on that I want to sleep on it and/or get a read through of it from someone else. Will post tomorrow
[X] [Fleet] Admiral Vaere will initiate a fleet exercise.
[X] [Fleet] Admiral Vaere will ensure that the fleet is loyal to the ideals of the Navy
[X] [Strike] Dispatch Strike Wing to conduct reconnaissance of Hydian Oversector force
[X] [Strike] Dispatch Seles to secure Corvus
[X] [Plan] Operation Blue Sky
[x] [Vaere] The Admiral will be attending one of Governor's Weizel's innumerable fetes
A/N said:
Next update will feature the battle itself. As well as the results of Strike Wing's encounter with Iden Versio. I'm not happy with this. Not unhappy either. Making progress in figuring out how I want to write this and be happy with the results. Naturally, the fact that these updates have a day turn around at most after vote closes means that there's a quality ceiling, but I don't think I've hit it yet
123 Days after the Battle of Endor
Chandrila System, Bormea Sector
The problem, in the opinion of Fleet Admiral Shara Vaere, was that the Imperial Navy had gotten complacent.
During the Seperatist Wars, the growing Republican Navy had fought hundreds of large actions against the fleets of the Confederacy, climaxing in the titanic struggle against Grievous at the end of the war.
During that period the Navy had kept itself sharp, expecting at any point to suddenly find themselves engaged in a death struggle against the Confederacy's mechanized battlegroups.
After the war, the newly inaugurated Imperial Navy had swept up the final Seperatist holdouts in the Western Reaches campaigns.
And since then the Imperial Navy had no peers to test itself against. The farce of what had been called a Civil War was merely rebel raids and terrorist operations.
For most of the war the Empire's fleets had languished in garrison as, with the singular exception of the Battle of Turkana, the Rebel Alliance had always avoided stand up fleet battles.
And, considering the casualties inflicted by the Imperial Navy during the Raid on Scarif or the Ambush at Deepspace Besh, it was clear there had been a damn good reason for that reluctance. Their aged capital ships and ideological volunteers no were match for the Navy's modern equipment and professionalism.
But clearly the Rebels had gotten better at formal fleet battles by the time of their victory over Admiral Piett and Death Squadron at Endor.
To Vaere it made total sense in retrospect. Death Squadron had often deployed itself thinly to cover vast amounts of space, racing in single Line elements spinward and ante-spinward around the outer rim after rumours of rebel cells.
Clearly, while Death Squadron ran itself ragged, the bulk of the Rebel fleet had hidden and trained. Defectors from the Imperial Navy who'd honed their craft during the Seperatist Wars had been drilling the rebellion's fanatics until even Ackbar's mismatched fleet could stand toe to toe with the best the Imperial Navy could boast of.
It was something to… Respect, if nothing else.
But while Ackbar trained, and Piett hunted, Vaere and the Core's mighty fleets had languished at anchor, the expense of fleet maneuvers unable to be justified against an enemy that did not seek to array their own fleets against the Navy.
Simulators, individual squadron exercise, punishment details, small unit deployments against pirates and unlucky rebels were all that the Imperial Navy had been able to use to keep itself sharp. Something that went double in the safe sectors of the Imperial Core.
However, for the First Bormea Sector Superiority Fleet that period of enforced inaction was now at an end.
Sixteen squadrons, a dozen Star Destroyers, hundreds of warships, hundreds more support craft, thousands of strikecraft, all danced at Vaere's expert command.
Or well, they tried to.
It would not be an understatement to say that the fleet was… Rusty.
There were growing pains. Some more painful than others.
On the first day of joint exercises, where the objective was merely to maneuver in tight formation, Third Escort Squadron's Victory-class Star Destroyer Ord Canteer somehow slammed the grey bulk of her dorsal hull into the corvette Ashborn, killing hundreds of supposedly well-trained personnel and putting both craft out of commission for months or years of yardwork.
Vaere would have been tempted to have Ord Canteer's Commanding Officer, Commander Sparit, shot. Except that he'd been in exactly the wrong place at the wrong time and been liquified between his command deck and Ashborn's starboard engine when the corvette's damaged and now intermittently firing engines took her clear through Ord Canteer's command superstructure.
A rather visceral argument against Kuat Drive Yard's obsession with command towers.
Less spectacular disasters had given Vaere a running untreatable headache over the following weeks.
It wasn't just incompetant officers being weeded out, though there were more than a few overpromoted buffons who'd previously escaped Vaere's relentless gaze. Or the fools who'd had been granted reprieves via their impeccable political credentials or high ranking patrons.
No, there were also the corrupt. Men and women who pocketed funds meant for maintenance. And the bullies who commanded via brutality and fear.
Men and women one and all who had no place in Vaere's Navy.
Vaere watched and took notes in a little flimsiplast notepad that never left her side.
Every error, every report, every utterance made in the Admiral's presence was considered carefully and judgement rendered. Her lists also contained names provided by her most trusted subordinates who had been briefed on Vaere's… professionalization drive.
At first Vaere simply labelled her lists as the names of disloyal and treasonous officers and handed them over to Agent Narr. The shocking ease with which the names written in her tight, precise, script were accepted surprised her.
Each night Vaere had frowned incrementally at the simple joy the man took in taking her lists, privately delivered every night, and sending secret orders across the fleet to his ISB subordinates. Clearly he didn't have any suspicions about her motives. Or if he did, he didn't care.
Vaere took no joy in the flood of fearful reports coming in from her officers at Narr's purge, but she did feel a sense of satisfaction when instead of handing lists of incompetents and sadists to Narr, her terse handwritten notes instead went to her own partisans. The following "counter purge" removed the political animals, incompotent favorites, and ISB moles from their posts and shuffled them into prisons or exile posts.
In a matter of days Narr and his people were politically isolated, closely watched by a sea of hateful Navy eyes.
Vaere let Narr know that as a loyal officer of the Galactic Empire, the Admiral would never dream of openly moving against official agents of the Imperial Security Bureau, but as they'd failed to definitively solve the assassination attempt against her and clearly had their hands full purging the fleet of anti-Imperial elements, perhaps it was time for the Navy to assist them?
Naturally, while there were some concerns about the rivalry between uniformed services, the ISB's new naval auxiliaries were there to help by shadowing their every move and keeping a close watch on them. It wouldn't do for ISB men and women to find themselves dead in an empty passageway. And perhaps they should allow their Naval colleagues to take the lead on investigations of disloyalty.
By the time the dust settled and the cycle of purge and "counter-purge" came to an end Vaere almost found herself regretting some of the four thousand or so people shot or arrested. Some of the bullies had gotten results, some of the political and ideological officers did have some talent, and doubtless some small number of blameless officers had been swept up, but the risks of disloyalty were too great in the current crisis.
The Admiral put those thoughts aside. If Shara Vaere wanted to feel regrets, there would be time enough for luxuries after victory.
-
Purges may not be the most reliable way of boosting morale, but Admiral Vaere certainly thought she detected a stiffening of discipline and ability across the fleet as the exercises proceeded from limited maneuvers and simulated skirmishing into mock fleet battles between her force elements.
There hadn't been any more collisions since Ord Canteer and Ashborn, and Vaere was almost pleased with the performance she'd coaxed out of her people during the climax of the exercise when Black Force had chased White Force across the Chandrilla system and dealt them a defeat that was mitigated in large part by White Force executing a textbook fighting withdrawal to Brentaal. (Or rather in the direction of Brentaal before dropping out of hyperspace and returning for debriefing)
She felt the loss of Vice-Admiral Seles during the process as her right hand woman was detached to command her Strike Wing on special operations. But the reconnaissance the woman was providing was top rate, and it seemed like Admiral Isoto didn't really seem to care about obscuring his fleet movements.
To be honest, if Seles was to be believed he didn't seem to believe in anything other than staying in his confiscated Skakoan estate and leaving his officers to their own devices while he enjoyed every luxury he could bribe, cajole, steal, and purchase.
Indeed, it was becoming increasingly clear that Vaere would be able to catch the man with his pants down, dealing his fleet a strong blow before he even knew what hit him. While Admiral Lon Isoto was carrying on in decadent fashion, Admiral Shara Vaere was meticulously planning his downfall.
And it was the opinion of Governor Weizel that perhaps Admiral Shara Vaere could do with some decadence of her own. For as he'd stated in a polite but insistent holonet call, "My good Admiral, you'll do your people no good if you work yourself into a coma. Look at yourself, you've visibly lost weight!"
A look in the mirror showed Vaere that while the man exaggerated somewhat, she had begun to look a bit pale and gaunt from overwork. She'd already granted most of the fleet leave on Chandrila, in recognition of their own hard work, and now she scheduled a night of leave herself, accepting an invitation to one of Weizel's many soirees.
Which is how she'd come to be strolling up the slate tiled walk that led from the sort of private landing pad that all Governor's mansions had towards the instinct noises of one of Weizel's famous garden parties for Chandrilla's high society.
Weizel's Governor's estate was nestled in the foothills at the bottom of the Shashwaat mountains, overlooking the Silver Sea and the expanse of Hanna city spread out below. The mansion itself was surrounded by several hundred square kilometers of grass and forest, though tonight the party would be held closer to the mansion itself, in a carefully maintained garden of local planlife, including a winding hedge maze that Vaere had no intention of ever entering.
As she approached the bounds of the party her pair of Naval Trooper bodyguards off smoothly to coordinate with Weizel's security and her new aide (A young Chanrillan Ensign named Darem) also peeled off to find his way to the mansion's secured communications facility where'd he'd be keeping her informed of any sudden developments. (Please, by the Emperor's vapourized bones, eternally may his memory be praised, etc, etc, let there be no sudden developments)
"Admiral! You came!"
Governor Weizel strolls forward in that relaxed manner of his that was either endearing or deeply aggravating.
At the moment Shara Vaere found it aggravating, but smiled anyway, unclenching her teeth, "Governor."
Weizel pats Vaere fondly on the back, his other hand swilling a red -and presumably alcoholic- beverage about a long stemmed crystal glass, "Ah, it's so good to see you groundside Admiral, you've been so busy I was afraid we'd lost you to the void!"
"Not to worry Governor," Vaere's mind struggled to sort through scouting reports, performance evaluations, and attack timetables to pull together a fitting and dignified retort, "As you can see, I remain… Fine"
Nailed it.
Weizel laughed his hearty laugh, and pulled Vaere towards a refreshments table without actually touching her. A neat social trick she'd never managed to learn herself.
"Oh, merely 'fine' Shara?" Weizel tsks, drawing an arm dressed in a fashionable but gauzy loose fitting white summer blouse across the table, "You need to keep up your energy."
"I suppose"
"I support our men and women in uniform Admiral," the Governor says, a twinkle in his eye, "and that includes you. There are a couple of items here that I'd recommend, and…" he raises a finger to his cheek in theatrical thought for a moment, before raising it again to wave at a nearby party of guests.
"Lady Olassa, if I could beg for just a moment of your time please," his jovial voice carries across the din of the party, "Just a morsel of your time."
Vaere turns to step aside to make room for Lady Olassa as the woman excuses herself from her group and gracefully glides over to the table.
"Admiral Shara Vaere, this is Housewoman Lady Olassa, a leading member of the Chandrillan House's loyalist bloc." Weizel sweeps a palm from the newcomer to Vaere and then back again, "Housewoman Olassa, this is Admiral Vaere, commander of the First Bormea Sector Supremacy fleet."
"Please Weizel, the woman who restored order to Chandrilla really needs no introduction." says Olassa, holding out a hand.
"Housewoman," says Vaere taking the politician's hand and giving her a quick head to toe glance.
Politicians are tricky creatures, hard to pin down, especially on first impression. But Olassa made a very good first impression. 'Voluptuous' would be one word to describe Olassa, and a very good one. She's a bit shorter than Vaere, standing somewhere near a mid one hundred and seventy something centimeters, but she filled out that height in some very… attractive ways.
But there were a lot of women who could boast of such curves, and Olassa returned Vaere's own gaze with grey eyes that were steady and confident, giving the Imperial officer a glimpse of a force of personality to match the beauty.
Her makeup was understated and perfectly applied to a degree that Vaere had never had the time to master herself. She wore an ankle length loose sundress in a pastel purple that worked with her light skin, her fine platinum hair was done up with an ornate and bejewelled hair ornament, not a single strand out of place.
Vaere nodded respectfully before releasing Olassa's firm grip.
An undoubtedly dangerous woman, but also one worth knowing. And she had very soft hands.
Weizel catches Vaere's eye and winks, a wink fast enough that Vaere almost misses it, but a wink nonetheless, "Lady, I know that you're something of a gourmand, is there anything that you'd recommend to the good Admiral."
"Hmm," Olessa regards Vaere carefully for a moment, "Vaere's a Coruscanti name isn't it?" The woman nods to herself before Shara can nod her own assent, "The accent confirms it. And judging by… Yes, I would think you have fairly Coruscanti tastes."
"I am known to have a fondness for the taste of home."
Olessa holds a finger speculative in front of her mouth, her lips pursed in thought, then pointed at the table, "Then I would recommend the Gladean half-wraps, which are always a hit, and I am going to ensure that you have a sample platter of some of our local products." She looks up and catches the attention of a server manning the table before snapping out a quick series of instructions.
Vaere is impressed by a tone of command that wouldn't be out of place on a Star Destroyer's command bridge, "I thank you Lady Olessa."
Weizel chuckles and echanges a sly smile with Olessa that she hides an amused smile behind a raised hand.
Shara isn't sure how, but she just made some sort of social faux pas. Complex High Society norms were a mistake, only the Navy's complex norms can be trusted.
Someone over Vaere's shoulder catches Lady Olessa's attention and she nods and waves before favouring the Admiral with a polite smile, "I am afraid I have to attend to some business. It was good to meet you Admiral. If you're feeling like trying something… Slightly more adventurous, I will be around."
As the graceful politician glides past Vaere, the Admiral takes a plate from the server and locks her eyes accusingly on Weizel, "You!"
Weizel laughs and sweeps some kind of seafood on a stick up off the serving table into his free hand, "I couldn't begin to guess what you mean Shara."
Vaere wants to do something accusing with her hands, but the platter of food (on a very nice plate, very intricately decorated with pastoral Chandrillan landscapes) prevents her from doing so, "You!" she repeats.
"Housewoman Olessa is a very skilled member of the Chandrillan political establishment. And she'd expressed an interest in meeting you after your Naval Troopers freed her from a terribly inconvenient de facto house arrest," He takes a quick sip from his glass, "I think if you talked to her, you find that you had a lot in common."
"You!" repeats Vaere for a third time, her brain finally clearing out thoughts of starship deployments and firing formations enough to make room for social graces, "You planned this."
"Shara, Admiral, my friend, you plan battles, I plan campaigns," he says with a flourish before his teeth rip a chunk of fish (?) off a skewer.
"Hmmh" says Vaere in a devastating repost as she finds a local cheese to pair excelently with a thin slice of some kind of local spiced meat, "Hmhm." she finishes.
Weizel hands his glass to a passing server and then turns to look across his garden at another group of what were presumably politicians, "And to speak of campaigns. I have one to wage now." he sighs theatrically, raising the back of a hand dramatically to his forehead to mime wiping his brow, "Why we wicked few are always denied rest I'll never know."
The governor takes a step away from Vaere and then points towards an approaching server, "You know I would try one of those delightful Spiced Alsakan Whites, a very serious but enthusiastic richness to it, and I'm certain it's right up your alley. I trust that you can entertain yourself in my absence," he gestures widely, "just circulate Shara, get to know these people, they all want to be your friend."
A rather unlikely prospect. People don't usually want to be Vaere's friend. The truth is that people want an Imperial Admiral in their corner. Everyone can use a friend in the Navy, and that goes doubly so for the powerful and connected.
Vaere has only just tried a sip of the nearly opaque wine and is considering inserting herself in the outer edge of a large group of party guests when she senses that someone has come up behind her.
"Admiral Shara Vaere, yes?"
Vaere spins around to find herself looking upwards at the face of another woman. Not one her own age like Lady Olessa, but one a few years younger, maybe in her mid thirties, and dressed in a sharp suit that was as very much indicative of the Coruscanti professional class as the mystery woman's accent is.
"Yes, I am Admiral Vaere, I am afraid that you have a disadvantage."
"I'm so sorry, Admiral," a look of contrition washes over the younger woman's face, "Uh, ah, Mira Senn, ah, the new junior editor with the Hanna Courier." she shifts her own plate of food around to extend her hand to Vaere, who then also has to awkwardly shift her own plate into the crook of her other arm to take Mira's hand and resisting the urge to look around for Weizel to let him know that he had a member of the press at his gathering.
It was probably alright. She's... proooobably one of his partisans in the press.
"I kinda, uhn," Mira keeps shaking Vaere's hand, "I needed to come over and talk to you. You're kind of a fascinating person. Right now. Or-" she suddenly lets go of Vaere's hand, "Oh. Hah. I'm sorry."
"That's quite alright, Ms. Senn." says the Admiral, taking a step back and giving the press woman a look over.
Mira is slightly taller than Vaere herself, lean and fit, she lacks a certain sort of classical beauty but she's not plain, and she has a very cute button nose. She also seems awkward and unfamiliar with her professional's blazer and short skirt. Her long black hair was held in a loose ponytail, falling all the way down to the small of her back but with a few locks refusing to cooperate and hanging loose. This was undoubtedly a woman who was more comfortable in field gear than something fit for high society.
Vaere felt for her, having a formal uniform meant that she hadn't had to worry about such things for decades now. Another of the Navy's many gifts.
Embarrassment filled Mira's blue eyes, "I, yeah, you're, Admiral, you're kinda of been a major topic of conversation. Being you as being a, uh." She stops and breathes in and out, moving a hand in time with her breath, and muttering something to herself, "Admiral Vaere, you have become Chandrilla's protector. A lot of people, myself included, think that's fascinating."
Vaere smiles politely, now well and fully distracted from purely military thoughts, "Ah, thank you Ms. Mira."
"I would like to interview you at some point. On or off the record." The younger woman is much more composed, and her Coruscanti accent much less pronounced, "You strike me as an interesting person." she purses her lips, "Aaand, the entire staff of the Courier was thrown in jail by Thiromer's men in a fit of completely unjustified paranoia. So, to a certain degree, I owe you my job and possibly my life." She smiles brightly at Vaere, "I simply wanted to thank you.
Do people actually really think that Vaere is some kind of hero? That's a disturbing thought for someone also called 'The Butcher of Ariqa'.
Shara's not really certain she likes being singled out for doing her duty. Vilification and deification feel equally as off putting to her, and the apparent adoration of the Chandrillan public will never rest easy on her shoulders.
On the other hand, Mira is very cute, and there is something to be said for the adoration of a cute younger woman.
Vaere pauses mid-thought. Oh fuck. As she approached her forties, was she really becoming one of those perverted old officers eternally chasing after young ingenues so as to forget their own fading virility by trading on the eternal aphrodisiac that was power?
"Ms. Senn. I was simply doing my duty. Thiromer and his people were simply out of control and I could no longer tolerate his actions." Serves him right for trying to order her people around!
"I, uh, don't want to keep you. It was nice to meet you Admiral."
"Likewise."
Mira hesitates for a moment and darts forward, her mouth next to Vaere's ear, her breath hot on the older woman's skin, "I would really like to show you my appreciation sometime."
Vaere stands stock still, processing, and the taller woman steps back, giving her a demure wave and then turning to flag down a passing server with a tray full of drinks.
That meeting almost certainly wasn't also engineered by Weizel. Unless it was.
Vaere distracts herself by sipping intently at her drink, searching for a polite buzz, and then inserting herself into a large group of Chandrillan notables discussing the latest rumours from the wider Galaxy (The so-called New Republic had defeated an Imperial fleet at Glom Tho, and Admirals Zsinj and Teradoc were now actively fighting each other over chunks of the Outer Rim Territories.) and providing her own expert military commentary on both clashes.
At some point Weizel returns and starts formally introducing Vaere to more members of Chandrillan High Society, who Vaere then files away in her memory for later review and analysis. (She may not be a politician but at her level, she has been fully educated in the contact acquisition game)
The night continues to wear on, and while Vaere's guard never fully lowers, her shoulders do begin to lose their tense weight and her perpetual headache of the last several weeks has nearly waned away. And by the time that the moons Chandra and Chandrakant are making their way into the sky and the star Chandrila begins to set, Vaere feels almost human again.
The Admiral has found herself on her own again and is considering contacting Ensign Darem to organize her return to Indefatigable when she sets herself down on a wooden bench facing away from the Governor's mansion and out towards the Silver Sea. Her legs thanked her for the chance to rest after hours of standing.
The Admiral looks up into the twilight, hoping to pick out the lights of her fleet overhead - a favoured pastime of hers when planetside. Pickout out such things is impossible on Coruscant, but on sparsely settled worlds like Chandrilla and her just over one billion inhabitants it was shockingly simple to do. Vaere had never lost the thrill of finding her ships in the night sky.
"Do you ever think about the void?"
Vaere is shocked out of her reverie by a feminine voice coming from next to her, "Pardon?"
"You're an Imperial Starfleet officer. Do you ever think about how there's just nothing there?"
Vaere gives a sidelong to her right, at the woman she hadn't really noticed sitting down next to her, "I would like to think so, I need to plan for it every day."
"I don't really mean on an intellectual level. I mean on an emotional gut level, have you accepted that there is nothing in the void. That your ships are simply… making directed falls into eternity."
Shara leans back and favours the small woman with a bemused look, "When I was a Cadet at The Academy, I had that realisation in my second year navigation class. It honestly messed me up for a few days as I processed that. My girlfriend at the time didn't see what the big deal was, but…" she trails off, "I was already stressed out from exams, and it really hit me how much nothing there really is. That most of existence is absence."
Vaere studies the woman next to her, the fading light of the light of the sun and the waxing light of the moons washing over her.
She's small, and seems delicate, like a bird… or someone raised in zero-gravity. Her red hair is cut short, to the nape of her neck, and her features seem to be as angular and Vaere's own. Perhaps it is the lighting, but something seems almost ethereal about her.
"Huh. I wonder how many spacers have that realisation. Or... how many of them will forever think of space as a simple part of their day to day that isn't worthy of examination."
Shara turns slightly to angle her body towards the other woman, "There is a beauty to the void. Clean, stark, unforgiving. But the void has rules, and the void makes sense. There is a simplicity there in the stars that I cannot get anywhere else." she sighs, "That is something I will forever appreciate."
The other woman turns to look at Shara, her thin mouth curving into a gentle smile, "I like that," she does an odd sitting half-bow, "Valenna."
"Shara Vaere"
The Admiral waits, but there is no spark of recognition in Valenna's purple eyes, just a steady curiosity.
Curious.
"Forgive me for saying this Valenna, but you don't really seem like part of Weizel's regular crowd."
The other woman cocks her head to one side, "Really? Well. I guess. I'm not used to parties like this. But they tell me I'm one of Chandrilla's greatest living artists. So I get all sorts of invites to parties like this. I came because I like the free food and people watching."
Vaere chuckles, "Spoken like a true artist. Though I expect you can afford your own food as a famous artist."
"Oh. Well, I like eating food outside from a table." Valenna gives Shara a conspiratorial look, "It makes me feel fancy. Annd like I said, I like watching people. It's normally hard to watch like the ones here." Her voice is a bit breathy and her words are slightly drawn out, not slurred but instead slowly spoken as if each word had been carefully picked.
Vaere laughs, "I mean this in the most complimentary way possible Miss Valenna, but you are a very odd woman. And I have no idea why you decided to come talk to me of all people."
"Thank you!" Valenna shrugs, "I just wanted to sit and watch the starrise. And then I wondered what you thought about the void between those stars."
"Do you know what I do?"
"You're in the Navy? Some kind of starship captain?"
Vaere laughs out loud, her brain a slightly buzzed vortex of total amusement, and laughs until she needs more air, "I've dabbled in Naval service." she says after her laughter trails off.
Shara chats with the woman a little longer. Valenna is much younger, in her late 20s, but Shara fully enjoys the experience. It's nice to not have expectations when talking to someone.
Shara finds out that Valenna was born and raised in low gravity, her parents working for a research colony in the Colonies before returning to Chandrilla when the Rebellion began to heat up a decade and a half ago.
Eventually the sun fully sets and the two stand up. Vaere smiles at Valenna and prepares to say goodbye when the other woman's eyes suddenly narrow and become speculative, "Do you have plans tonight?"
"That's awfully forward."
"You said it yourself, I'm a very odd woman. And I want to pick your brain some more."
-
You know what? Fuck it, considering that while Weizel might be a manipulative little shit at times, he was right that she needs to relax and blow off some steam. And Shara Vaere is a Navy woman, and a Navy spacer on leave has certain Traditions to uphold.
-
This is basically a preference choice at the moment TBH, nothing is locked in because real life isn't a VN where you lock in paths after hitting flags and the cast of characters remains static the whole time with a single route in mind. Anyway, why do this, you ask? I'm gay as fuck, my writing is gay as fuck, and I promised gay. I also guarantee that only one of these women is a NR Agent out to manually steal Shara's bodily fluids do spy shit.
All of them, absolutely all of them fit some spy stereotype. From the Defector from Decadence, to the Rebellious Freedom Writer, down to the elite Outsider Artist.
Then we have the matter of some color coordination, with Olassa wearing the color which as a code name is used by Republic Intelligence to signal imminent detection by imperial forces, Mira whose "profession" and posture clearly indicate someone accustomed to field work and desire to "thank Varae" for working to save the people is a good way to gather intel about Varae's potential loyalties, and Valenna is just observant and vague enough to be the "psychoanalyze until I get the intel I needed."
No real way to delve here I don't think that isn't just as valid as the others. So I'm gonna vote for Lady Olassa because I wished I could have romanced Vivienne in DA:I.
I think the important question here is does the governor have a groundspeeder or airspeeder we can "borrow". Dude may've been right about Vaere needing to blow off steam, but we can't let the whole set-up go unanswered.
That being said, I'm going to opt for the option that isn't the obvious rebel spy (I mean they probably are but it's at least not obvious )
[X] Lady Olessa
Trying to pick out who the Republic agent is should be quite interesting. Initially, I think Mira Senn is the most likely candidate but it's really hard to tell at this point because we have very little evidence. The other question is do we want to try to make sure to date the spy or not date the spy? Picking the spy is probably one of the more dramatic options but I am sure the others have their own intense secrets as well. On the whole I think Valenna is my favorite right now because she seems like trouble and has short hair.
