The Ruler of the Queen's Navee
06 Feb 2021Tharik Otoli
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FLAMMARION TERMINAL
DAIBAIS A 4
DAIBAIS
The Daibais system, population - eight and a half million. A frontier system pressed up against the wilderness of the deep black, literally on the very edge of the bubble. Nonetheless, present there was a vibrant mining operation which also included some refineries and industrial ventures using the very materials mined in system. Although still a relatively inconsequential frontier system, it was a comparatively lucrative asset to the Empire. It also happened to be not at all far from the Federation border, making it an ideal staging ground for Imperial adventurers and freelancers.
For quite some time, the system had been dominated by Daibais Patron's Principles, an Imperial Patronage who were the very first to lay claim to and receive a charter for the system. While a handful of independent factions controlled particular outposts, bases, and installations, none of them had managed to wrest control of the major star-port, Flammarion Terminal, or the system itself, from Patron's Principles. Yet, there were still some committed to trying. This was especially true of a new Imperial faction that had emerged as the result of a recent political intrigue. Specifically, from the plotting of a particularly ambitious patron whom had just recently met with a fairly minor Imperial Lord.
We join members of this faction's military junta in a large meeting room on Flammarion Terminal where they discuss the impending arrival of the aforementioned Lord.
All four men were dressed in their faction's dress uniform, black boots and slacks, a white shirt with an ornate collar, a black jacket with bluish-silver trim and an elaborate pattern of triangles woven into the outer fabric, as well as a peaked cap with the same black pattern and bluish-silver trim. At first glance, one could only distinguish them by the color of their hair and their skin tone. Commander Son Wells, a man with a dark complexion whose dyed blue cornrows woven into his hair were largely covered by his peaked cap, inquired, "Sir? A Prince? Ahh, you mean an Imperial Navy Prince?"
General Humberto Casey, a much fairer man whose hair was cut as short as the stubble on his face replied, "Indeed Commander."
"I will never understand the Navy's choice of ranks, King of the Imperial Navy indeed," opinioned Colonel Israel Carney whose short white curls contrasted his skin, darkest among his comrades.
General Casey corrected his subordinate, "Auxillary Navy, Colonel."
Captain Horacio Carey's bronze complexion was completely out of place with his blond locks and goatee, clearly the latter as artificially colored as Commander Well's braids, "Sir? Our Patron is trusting a freelance pilot to lead our organization? By the Heart and Soul what madness is this?"
"As you were Captain! The Patron knows what he is doing. Our proles will rally around this man, he is apparently a rather famous Corsair," snapped back the General.
Commander Wells was not in the least satisfied and continued to push the issue, "A Corsair sir? An Imperial Corsair? A pirate? Sir, I must protest."
General Casey, having made the same arguments only days prior, had begun to lose his patience, "Silence! None of your lots complaints will matter anymore as they have already fallen on deaf ears. Do you think I had not brought this up with The Patron?" He sighed deeply and continued, raising his voice further, "His mind is made up! Commander Prince Tharik Otoli, Captain of the Imperial Corsairs will lead our faction to victory in Daibais!" He paused and examined the stunned looks on the faces of his junior leaders and was certain he now had their attention, "In addition, we WILL be adopting their banner, their namesake, and he will take control of this faction as Viceroy! So as of today gentlemen, welcome to the Imperial Corsairs!"
Captain Carey whispered under his breath, "This deal's is getting worse all the time," and the Colonel shot him an icy stare.
Silence ensured for a time, the three men digesting what was to be the fate of a faction they had fought hard for, when suddenly Commander Wells exclaimed, "Wait. Tharik Otoli? Deciat's Plague?
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