Thrashia
13-02-2007, 04:18
It was always a rare and pleasurable opportunity for most politicians and diplomats when they are able to exercise the full amount of their inherent power and thereby their responsibilities. Such was the case as Count Edward Philips made his way via shuttle off the surface of Imperial Center. Dawn was just now coming over the horizon, light shining off and glancing like spears upon the myriad number of countless skyscrapers and buildings that made up the surface of Curoscant.
Philips swallowed visibly as his shuttle broke atmosphere and entered space. He had been sent by the Emperor Treize more than five years prior to act in his stead as the official Imperial Adviser. A rank given to Thrashia much similar to that of Warmaster to the Chronosian Empire. Philips had believed in his leader and gone on with the mission. He had grown to like Curoscant even.
The shuttle shook horrifically for a moment then settled again. "Sorry about that sir," called the pilot over the comm, "We just went through the defensive shields. They always cause some turbulence." Philips reminded himself that he was on a mission to Telros, and was not in a position to waste time chewing pilots heads off for crapy flying.
"No trouble ensign, just get us to the Judicious in one piece," Philips said wearily. The pilot took it as a joke and laughed.
In the port side view port Philips saw his ride. The Victory-class Star Destroyer Judicious. It was part of the multi-regional fleet that helped to patrol the Curoscant System. Using his powers Philips had managed to commandeer it for his trip. Captain Balinor had not been pleased with the arrangement, having grudgingly agreed only after a message was sent from Thrashian Fleet Command.
The shuttle boarded and Philips rushed aboard. His bags were taken off by servants and droids. He got lost three times before he finally made it to the bridge. Captain Balinor stood with his back to Philips as he walked in.
"Captain," Philips said, air coming in huffs, "are we ready to depart?"
"We were waiting on you, my lord Count," replied Balinor, turning and setting his iron gaze at the sloppy civilian before his eyes. Most military personnel did not like the aristocracy that had risen during Treize's reign, but they had their uses.
"Good," Philips managed. He didn't want to start a confrontation with the Captain. It would get him no where. "Then let us go."
"Helm, set your heading for twenty-degrees down angle," called Balinor. Deck officers along the crew pits echoed the command. "Bring engines to full thrust and get us into hyperspace. Lieutenant Miles, you have the con."
"Aye sir," Balinor's adjutant replied.
Within a matter of moments the clear, pearl black surface of space outside the view ports disappeared. It was replaced by a stream of endless lines of white. The ship vibrated underneath Philips' feet and the ship shot into hyperspace. Their destination: a secret meeting place with the Federation of Telros.
Philips swallowed visibly as his shuttle broke atmosphere and entered space. He had been sent by the Emperor Treize more than five years prior to act in his stead as the official Imperial Adviser. A rank given to Thrashia much similar to that of Warmaster to the Chronosian Empire. Philips had believed in his leader and gone on with the mission. He had grown to like Curoscant even.
The shuttle shook horrifically for a moment then settled again. "Sorry about that sir," called the pilot over the comm, "We just went through the defensive shields. They always cause some turbulence." Philips reminded himself that he was on a mission to Telros, and was not in a position to waste time chewing pilots heads off for crapy flying.
"No trouble ensign, just get us to the Judicious in one piece," Philips said wearily. The pilot took it as a joke and laughed.
In the port side view port Philips saw his ride. The Victory-class Star Destroyer Judicious. It was part of the multi-regional fleet that helped to patrol the Curoscant System. Using his powers Philips had managed to commandeer it for his trip. Captain Balinor had not been pleased with the arrangement, having grudgingly agreed only after a message was sent from Thrashian Fleet Command.
The shuttle boarded and Philips rushed aboard. His bags were taken off by servants and droids. He got lost three times before he finally made it to the bridge. Captain Balinor stood with his back to Philips as he walked in.
"Captain," Philips said, air coming in huffs, "are we ready to depart?"
"We were waiting on you, my lord Count," replied Balinor, turning and setting his iron gaze at the sloppy civilian before his eyes. Most military personnel did not like the aristocracy that had risen during Treize's reign, but they had their uses.
"Good," Philips managed. He didn't want to start a confrontation with the Captain. It would get him no where. "Then let us go."
"Helm, set your heading for twenty-degrees down angle," called Balinor. Deck officers along the crew pits echoed the command. "Bring engines to full thrust and get us into hyperspace. Lieutenant Miles, you have the con."
"Aye sir," Balinor's adjutant replied.
Within a matter of moments the clear, pearl black surface of space outside the view ports disappeared. It was replaced by a stream of endless lines of white. The ship vibrated underneath Philips' feet and the ship shot into hyperspace. Their destination: a secret meeting place with the Federation of Telros.