A Matter of Taste - Star Wars: The Will of the Force

Date: Monday, 08 Jun 2015, 1:53 AM | Message # 1

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"Captain Lennox, Captain Cross is aboard."

Finally, Lennox thought to himself. He placed his napkin down on his now-empty plate, reached over and pressed a button on the table's comms node. "Escort him here please," he said, glancing about officers' mess aboard the Star Destroyer Impavid, now almost as empty as his plate. Malcolm Cross had been invited to dinner some hours ago, but his responsibilities on the Pradeux had delayed him. Dinner had been eaten, toasts proposed, and excuses made to leave. Of the original company of seven officers—mostly other Captains from the ships of Lennox's fleet—only he and Bella Nelia remained.

Nelia was the Captain of the Persephone, but she was more than that; Bella was probably Lennox's closest friend in the Imperial Starfleet. They had gone to the Raithal Academy together, both of them weighed down by the expectations of their families. It was only through the institutional sexism of the Academy system that Lennox out-ranked her today, but that put him in a position to arrange the transfer of the Persephone to his 18th Heavy Attack Line. And here they were, at the far end of the Gordian Reach, with only a bottle of Zeltron spiced wine between them.

Lennox took a sip of his wine—he'd lost count of how many he'd had—and shrugged. "Well, as the host I feel an obligation to stay, but I wouldn't blame you if you want to leave," he said. "Malcolm Cross is supposed to be one of the royal hard asses of the Imperial Navy."

Clive W. Lennox
Line Captain, Imperial 18th Heavy Attack Line
Victory II-class Star Destroyer Impavid

Date: Monday, 08 Jun 2015, 9:01 AM | Message # 2

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"If you think I am afraid of someone like Malcolm Cross, you don't know me at all, Clive." Bella said, once she put her glass down on the table top and then adjusted the collar of her uniform coat, and tugged on the hems of her sleeves each in turn. She was always very neat and well put together; her blonde hair rolled into perfect curls and her uniform always starched and pristine, despite the fact that she had always chosen to wear a fitted pencil skirt and heels instead of the standard trousers of the Imperial uniforms. While it was difficult enough to be a woman in the Imperial Navy, Bella also liked to make it no secret that she was female and feminine in looks, but she was as tough as nails and was not to be trifled with.

Her position had not been given to her, despite her fathers attempts to secure her a position on Imperial Center, which he considered to be safer in nature. She had fought, and fought hard to win her place on the Persephone, a ship she loved, with a crew that she had hand picked over the last year. It was common knowledge amongst the crew that their captain would die before giving up her ship and her crew, and that made them loyal.

"Besides, how bad could he be? No worse than my father, and you survived that encounter...sort of. I'm sure that the rumors are really overblown and exaggerated." Sure, Bella had no clue what he would really be like, but she always firmly believed that rumors were just that; rumors.

"And furthermore, if you have one more glass of that spiced wine...I can probably convince Captain Cross to have me promoted and then I'll be in charge of this beautiful ship too. I am quite charming, remember?" She joked with him before taking another small sip from her glass.

Captain Bella Nelia

Date: Tuesday, 09 Jun 2015, 2:35 AM | Message # 3

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For a time, while arriving onboard the Impavid, he relived his memory of first arrived aboard the Pradeux a year ago.

He exited his shuttle then to a full honor guard, matched only by the display that would be given to an Admiral or Lord Vader or the Emperor himself. Imperial banners were hung throughout the hangar bay. The crew seemed anxious but excited to finally meet him weeks before their official commissioning and thus first deployment. There was no smell to the hangar bay when he stepped into it. Even in the forward hangar, work was done. Aboard the Sovereign, the smell was always the same, grease, oil, and fuel mixed together in a chorus of smells tinged with a metallic odor that was unique and left a slight impression in one’s mouth the first time they stepped into it. That was not the smell he experienced the first time he step foot onto the Pradeux, and it was an unsettling experience which quickly put into real terms what his command meant.

That smell did however greeted his nostrils upon stepped out of his shuttle and onto the flight deck of the forward hangar of the Impavid; the ceremony as well pomp and circumstance was also absent. He was aboard a working ship, which the Pradeux now also was, and it was a comforting feeling.

Shortly, he was marching into the Officer’s Mess. It was said by his subordinates that he did walk anywhere, but marched at all times, and his seemingly constant serious demeanor as well as the confidence that exuded from his stride held this gossip close to the truth. He would in fact often hold himself to military drill standard in his movements early in his career, but this habit was quickly eradicated by the realities of service.

Once he entered the room, he viewed Captains Lennox and Nelia, and gave them a respectful nod. Dinner was clearly already served and eaten, and he missed the company of the other invited officers.

“I’ve missed the meal,” he said blankly and matter-of-factly, stating the obvious that he had just observed.

“I apologize for my absence and tardiness. Once we hypered into the area, we had to initiate repairs to our portside heavy turbolasers; the unfortunate result of our last encounter with a hit-and-fade by a group of Y-Wings. Apparently, one of my engineers was accidentally attempting to modify them into heavy ion cannons instead. Conscript from Jakku we picked up a few months ago. Brilliant with a hydrospanner, but not all there in the head apparently.”

Following the unsolicited explanation, he moved to the table, finally removing his cap and gloves, stowing them within his belt, before taking a seat at the table.

“Please, don’t attempt to arrange for food on my part…” he cautioned Lennox, before his fellow Line Captain could even offer.

“I do not wish to inconvenience you. May I have a drink though?” he said, motioning to the bottle of Zeltron spiced wine.

Line Captain Malcolm Cross
Imperial Navy

Commanding Officer, Star Destroyer Pradeux

Message edited by Malcolm_Cross - Tuesday, 09 Jun 2015, 2:36 AM

Date: Sunday, 14 Jun 2015, 0:17 AM | Message # 4

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"'Exaggerated'..." he repeated, nodding in mock agreement as he prepared to pour himself another glass of wine, "You're right, Bella. I'm sure he's just misunderstood. Like Vader." The Dark Lord's reputation for executing Imperial officers for the slightest of reasons preceded him. Sensing that he'd gone too far (Darth Vader didn't make for good comedy), Clive let the subject drop. Bella knew his feelings about the Empire; indeed, she was the only one who did. He'd told her over drinks on a night much like this one many years ago at the Academy. He'd told her his feelings about her too, but they'd never revisited the subject—it was more convenient to dismiss it as the ramblings of a man who'd had a few too many. If nothing else, he'd learned from that incident to listen to Bella's warnings about how much he'd had to drink; reluctantly, he put the bottle down. "Really? I thought I was the charming one, but if you say so."

She was right, though. Clive was glad she was here, not just for her company but also because he dreaded having to entertain Cross by himself. Bella was better at such things, but she was also tough; Clive had originally befriended her at the Academy when he'd defended her from the harassment of his colleagues (chivalry wasn't dead on Chandrila), only to discover that she didn't need defending. Bella could handle herself, a trait which could come in useful with Cross.

He'd been about to reminisce with Bella about the Academy days when Cross entered. Already? Lennox thought to himself. Having lost track of time, he must have had more to drink than he'd realized. "Captain Cross," he said, standing and bowing his head to his fellow Line Captain, "Welcome aboard the Impavid. This is Captain Nelia, of the Persephone. Do excuse us for not greeting you in the hangar, but of course we weren't sure when you'd arrive." He gestured to a chair at the table opposite Bella and himself, then sat down, listening to the Captain's tale of woe. He nodded sympathetically and hoped that he didn't appear bored; Lennox's command style was more 'hands off' compared to Cross; he had high expectations of his Captains, but left them to the day-to-day operations of their own ships. Lennox, familiar with the strengths and weaknesses of each ship and its Captain, focused on the coordination of his ships rather than micro-managing each one individually. Some would say that Lennox's approach lacked imagination, but then again, the Imperial Navy was his profession, not his passion; he lacked the sentimentality that Cross had for the Pradeux and Bella had for the Perspehone.

"Hmm? Oh yes, of course. I was hoping you'd join us in a drink," he said, picking up the bottle of wine once more and pouring it into a glass he'd prepared for Cross. He re-filled his own while he was at it. "Zeltron spice wine," he explained, "I'll spare you the details, but we found it necessary to close down the brothel on Gall and we impounded thirty bottles of this. It's quite unique." He passed a glass to Cross and then glanced at Nelia and, having apparently forgotten her advice, offered to re-fill her glass for her.

Clive W. Lennox
Line Captain, Imperial 18th Heavy Attack Line
Victory II-class Star Destroyer Impavid

Message edited by Captain_Lennox - Sunday, 14 Jun 2015, 0:20 AM

Date: Sunday, 14 Jun 2015, 8:59 AM | Message # 5

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It was true, Bella was....very unassuming in her appearance. She understood why Clive felt the need to come to her aide the first time that they met. Within moments though, she had effectively 'put down' the males that had been speaking and acting inappropriately to her. As a result, she never had many dates, not that she was interested in dating. Her career had been her focus. Bella did have an older brother who taught her how to take care of herself, and a father whos expectations she had to live up to.

"Sarcasm is no substitue for wit, darling." Bella managed to murmur to him just before Captain Cross walked into the room. She silenced herself then, while he regaled them with his tale of the damaged heavy turbo laser. While it may not have been interesting to Clive, it was to her, as she and Captain Cross seemed to take a similar approach to the running and care of their ships.

"One of my mechanics is similar, Captain. Although I have found that if I just let him go with his instinct, it usually turns out better than it would have had he done the repair by the book, so to speak. He just has a way with machines."

When Clive offered to refill her glass, she shook her head, holding up a hand for him to stop, then slid his own glass towards her. "I thought this one was mine?" Of course she would try and save her long time friend any embarrassment, but it likely wouldn't work.

Captain Bella Nelia

Date: Monday, 15 Jun 2015, 1:22 AM | Message # 6

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The comparison to Vader was a rather harsh one for Lennox to make. Either is was done so out of his inebriated state or from true misunderstanding of Cross. Cross refused to execute those under his command unless absolutely necessary, which he never found it to be so unless ordered by a superior. Yes, Cross was a hard man to please. Yes, Cross was a strict disciplinarian. Yes, Cross expected nothing less than perfection out of his subordinated. But he did not kill them for failing to meet expectations. It was in fact one of the many facets of the Imperial Navy that Cross took exception to. Were Lennox to ever open his mind to Cross, or perhaps they have a drunken conversation of their own, Lennox was likely to find that Cross was in fact a kindred spirit.

Once the glass was poured for him, and other two had their own glasses re-filled, he raised his glass off the table and into the air. Seeing as he had missed dinner and the toasts of earlier, but it felt nonetheless required of himself to make his own toast now that he was at the table.

“Before we converse, I fear I am late in doing so, but… better late than never. To the Empire. And to you, Captain Lennox and Captain Nelia,” he said, elevating his voice during his last sentence.

As he mentioned their names, he pointed his glass to each of them. He then proceeded to take a generous drink of the wine. It was an excellent wine, perhaps amplified by both being Zeltron and it having been perhaps a full six years since he had enjoyed a bottle of wine. In fact the last bottle of wine he had consumed was while stationed on Lothal with Grand Moff Tarkin.

“Mmm. Captain Lennox, this is an excellent wine. My compliments on your fortuitous capture,” he said him, giving him a nod.

He turned to Captain Nelia.

“Captain Nelia, I give my crew as much room to run with their insticts as I can, but ion cannon components does not a turbolaser make.”

He smiled at her for a moment. The woman was effortlessly beautiful, and her wearing of the rare alternate female uniform, which many women found demeaning and impractical, she wore as if she belonged in it. He of course thought this in the very best of ways.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet both of you. I’ve heard so much about each of you, I was thrilled when I received the invitation to the evening. Thank you, Captain Lennox, for including me in your evening.”

Line Captain Malcolm Cross
Imperial Navy

Commanding Officer, Star Destroyer Pradeux

Date: Tuesday, 16 Jun 2015, 2:44 AM | Message # 7

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In switching his full glass of wine for her empty one, Bella had won the battle, but not the war as Cross's toast compelled Lennox to pour himself another. He raised one eyebrow mischievously as he did so, then raised his glass. "Yes, to the Empire we three so humbly serve," he said sardonically, "May we never regret it." He rather inelegantly drank the entire glass, but promised himself it would be his last of the night. He was beginning not to taste it, and if nothing else, that was a waste of good wine.

"You're too kind, Captain. Much too kind," he said as Cross dedicated the toast to Bella and himself. Perhaps Bells was right, and he'd been unfair in his estimation of Malcolm Cross. He knew that the grumblings of the rank and file about Cross were probably about as accurate as the Ministry of Information (which was to say, not very). Then again, most propaganda—and rumors—contained some element of truth. Even so, perhaps Lennox had been too eager to believe what he wanted to believe about Cross. Perhaps, indeed, Cross deserved the benefit of the doubt.

Then again...

"I'd be remiss not to have invited you, my good man. You have quite the reputation, you know. 'The Wolf,' they call him!" he explained to Bella, theatrically. "The protege of no less a man than Wilhuff Tarkin, so I hear. Is it true, Captain—" he returned his attention to Cross, "—that you were assigned to the Death Star? Or was it the 'Planetary Ore Extractor'? In either case, you must have some stories to tell."

Clive W. Lennox
Line Captain, Imperial 18th Heavy Attack Line
Victory II-class Star Destroyer Impavid

Date: Tuesday, 16 Jun 2015, 8:08 AM | Message # 8

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Oh, Clive was getting past the point of common sense with his level of sobriety. She had seen him like that before; to the point where he was drinking entire glasses without taking a breath. It was a very unbecoming thing, at times, but at least she could keep half an eye on him.

"The Wolf, really?" She said with a marked level of interest. No, keeping an eye on him was no longer her plan, she was interested to see where this went. He had been known, on occasion, to be good at recovering in such situations where potential embarrasment was on the line. "I suppose that it could be much worse, were it true." Bella said before she shifted in the seat and crossed her legs, one over the other.

"Is it, Captain Cross?" A hint of a smirk crossed her face for only a brief moment before she took another sip from her glass before she rested it on the table top once again. Her gaze trailed to Clive then and she smiled some. His cheeks were ruddy, likely from the wine and for a brief moment, he looked like the boy that she'd met in academy, the day he made his futile attempt to defend her. It was a sweet gesture, none the less.

"The Death Star, too. Really? How fascinating." At that point, she was really just feeding Clive's drunken fire a little. That aside, she truly was interested to know where this Malcolm Cross had come from.

Captain Bella Nelia

Date: Wednesday, 17 Jun 2015, 3:05 AM | Message # 9

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“Indeed, I am called ‘The Wolf’ by many. A nickname I picked up as a Starfighter pilot, which has been carried on ever since as I have continued my service. It appears no matter my attempts to stop such activity or to try to hide the nickname, it eventually seems to always come out. At this point I’ve accepted it.”

“I did indeed serve in the protection fleet for the Death Star. And I served as both Tactical Officer and Executive Officer aboard Grand Moff Tarkin’s flagship Sovereign before it’s destruction at Mustafar,” he said, honest about the major failure of his career. He ignored the jab at the Death Star’s propaganda title.

“I was not aware I had a reputation,” he said, attempting to shift the conversation slightly towards what could be an intriguing subject for him, “perhaps you can enlighten, Captain Lennox?”

Line Captain Malcolm Cross
Imperial Navy

Commanding Officer, Star Destroyer Pradeux

Date: Wednesday, 17 Jun 2015, 3:47 AM | Message # 10

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When it became clear that Cross didn't have much to say about the Death Star (or wasn't going to, whether he did or not), Lennox's mind—and his eye—wandered to Bella, who was listening intently to Cross and didn't seem to notice him. But he noticed her, especially where her leg met the skirt on that uniform of hers. That Clive had wanted her since the Academy days was a mutually-recognized, if never discussed, fact of their friendship. That he now had a fiancee hadn't changed his mind on the matter; his engagement to Violet was simply another of the many expectations his family had for him. He had little in common with her, and didn't respect her the way he did Bella. Perhaps it was the wine—known for its aphrodisiac qualities--but for a fleeting moment, Cross ceased to exist and he and Bella might as well have been the only ones in the room, or on the Impavid for that matter.

That changed when Cross addressed him by name. "Oh, you know," he shifted in his chair, pulling the creases out of his tunic. He'd only half-heard the question, and he'd already said all he knew about Malcolm Cross. His reference to the man's 'reputation' was not, as he seemed to assume, a reference to Mustafar. Even when drunk, Lennox wouldn't go that far. And for the first time tonight, he suspected that he appeared drunk. He probably turned more red in the face as his self-consciousness now mixed with the effects of the wine. "Tarkin, and the Death Star," he improvised, "There's so much we don't know about Yavin, all these months later. I thought you might be able to enlighten us?" He offered to refill the man's glass.

Clive W. Lennox
Line Captain, Imperial 18th Heavy Attack Line
Victory II-class Star Destroyer Impavid

Date: Wednesday, 17 Jun 2015, 8:14 AM | Message # 11

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Bella wonderred, for the briefest of moments, if all of this questioning was a bother of Malcolm Cross. And she wondered if a change of subject might be good, or would he really want to answer Clive's questions regarding Yavin. Sure, they didn't know that much about what had happened there, but they weren't there, so it was no surprise. She shifted in her seat and tugged at the hem of her uniform jacket with her manicured fingertips again.

"I think what he means, Captain Cross, is that you have a reputation of being a....ah...formidible opponent in the field. I could not possibly imagine you being otherwise, of course. Or am I speaking out of turn, Clive?" Perhaps she was, or perhaps she wasn't, but she tried to catch her friends gaze, either way.

"I have heard that you have an absolutely fantastic ship." She said, turning the subject away from Yavin if he did not want to answer, or in case the information is classified. "I would love a tour some time." Bella said, with a marked interest.

Captain Bella Nelia

Date: Thursday, 18 Jun 2015, 11:01 PM | Message # 12

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“Ah, Yavin,” he said to Lennox.

He was honestly expecting other comments about his reputation. He had heard rumblings among his crew about his strict nature, and figured he would hear similar scuttle-butt from Lennox. The issue with an officer corps of which the majority were noble or former noble families and largely from the Core were that the officers of the Imperial Navy loved to gossip, along with their politicking and intrigue, nearly more than the enlisted personnel. Personally, Cross had no stomach for such games, but it was entertaining at times to heard the rumors that many came up with.

“I’m afraid I have as many answers as you. The protection forces for the Death Star were not present at the time of the Battle of Yavin, having been deployed elsewhere. I don’t think anyone aboard foresaw a Starfighter strike being as effective as it was.”

Thank you, Captain Nelia,” he said turning to her. “I would love to provide a tour. It sometimes escapes me how many officers have still yet to step aboard an Imperial-class.”

Line Captain Malcolm Cross
Imperial Navy

Commanding Officer, Star Destroyer Pradeux

Date: Wednesday, 24 Jun 2015, 2:47 AM | Message # 13

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"Yes, that's about right," he said somewhat meekly to Bella. Having raised the subject of the Death Star twice now and gotten a non-answer both times, Clive knew when to quit. But he still suspected that Cross knew more than he was letting on. Cross, after all, had been a late addition to the Empire's post-Yavin counter-offensive; indeed, he and the crew of the Pradeux had spent the weeks following the Battle of Yavin being questioned by the Imperial Security Bureau, or so Lennox had heard. Then again, the ISB was quite good at wasting the time and resources of the Empire, and it's possible that its questioning of Cross had been simply a gizka chase. Lennox didn't know of anyone who questioned the man's dedication to the Empire, after all.

"Let's hope we haven't underestimated rebel starfighter capabilities ourselves," he said, pensively. "The Impavid doesn't have much of a fighter screen to speak of. Against a flight of Y-wings, the Pradeux would probably fare better. But I have something that you don't, Captain Cross—" he smiled as he glanced from Cross to Bella, "—and that's Captain Nelia. As long as the Persphone is guarding my flank, I feel confident we can handle whatever the Rebellion may throw at us."

"Not that we've seen much of the Rebellion yet, have we?" he mused. Indeed, if the Alliance was in the Gordian Reach, it was laying low. The 18th had found no trace of them in the past month, and there wasn't much of the Gordian Reach left to search. And Lennox was fine with that; he had no undue fear of combat, but he didn't lust for it as many of his peers did. Especially not against a Rebel Alliance that espoused many of the principles that he himself believed in. He probably would have voted for Mon Mothma if he had the opportunity, or for Canna Omonda, Senator Mothma's eventual replacement.

Clive felt a shiver run down his back at the thought of poor Omonda. For daring to speak out against the Emperor's suspension of the Senate, Omonda was declared a traitor and no fewer than three Star Destroyers were sent to arrest the woman. Lennox, a Chandrilan, and the Impavid had been pulled temporarily out of the 18th Heavy Attack Line in the middle of the Yavin counter-offensive and assigned to the unhappy task. He'd even been forced to attend the Senator's public execution. He hadn't spoken of that event since returning to the 18th, but more than anything else, it had forced Clive to think more critically about the Empire he served.

He put the unpleasant memory out of mind and cleared his throat, realizing how dry it was. "Indeed, a tour of the Pradeux would be most instructive," he agreed, content to let Bella direct the conversation for the time being. He knew that Bella would probably enjoy 'talking shop' with Cross more than he would.

Clive W. Lennox
Line Captain, Imperial 18th Heavy Attack Line
Victory II-class Star Destroyer Impavid

Date: Wednesday, 24 Jun 2015, 10:29 PM | Message # 14

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She watched Clive closely for several moments before she suddenly stood and crossed to the nearby sideboard in just a few steps. Even on heels, she had a confident stride, and within moments she was handing her friend a glass of water. That was probably why they worked so well together. Not because of a glass of water, but because each always seemed to know just what the other needed without any verbal communication at all. "You'd be fine without me and Persephone, Clive. But you're better off with us." Bella smirked and remained standing for the moment. They had been sitting around that table for hours before Malcolm Cross had arrived, after all.

Of course, Bella had an idea of what Clive was thinking about when he went oddly silent, though she wasn't absolutely positive of what it was. "I am sure, wherever the cowards are hiding, it will not be long until they are found and then eliminated. Permanently." She had no undue thoughts regarding the Empire, not yet anyway. Then again, she hadn't the experience that Clive had with his homeworld. Bella had, however, always been open-minded, so if someone showed her a different way about things, she would at least be open to the idea. But this...rebellion...had been nothing more than a conflict that she was sure would be ended abruptly and swiftly.

Captain Bella Nelia