“Are you sure about this Lord Vader?” Walker Audenhoen asked with an aire of dignity, an earned measure of self-induced confidence he hadn’t expected in the Dark Lord’s presence as he looked into the vastness of Vaders helmeted orbs. Half turning to the grand entrance of the High Counsel chambers of the Emperor himself several steps away, Audenhoen blew out a short breath, “I’ve been privy to many an accusatory assembly and know how things can materialize without advocacy.”
“Rest assured Director, I have no interest in twisting the truth beyond what it is. The time of directness is at hand and owing to your actions on Ambria, I am in your debt.” Vader replied between sonorous breaths of his own. “That should supply reason enough for them to take your tidings seriously from the start.”
Walker pulled down upon the corners of his uniform top before retrieving his code cylinder from his left breast pocket. He bore his gaze into the shaded helm of the red garmented Imperial guard and fired his hand forward, releasing the small cylinders to the grip of the outstretched hand waiting for him. For a moment, Walker couldn’t believe he was in this particular situation as he chiseled his facial features into the expressionless stone that would be required going forward. He had never even occupied the same room as the Dark Lord, much less lead a procession involving him into the bowels of the Imperial High Counsel, yet he felt a calm absorb him with each inhale and exhale from the man behind him. He led his gaze over his shoulder, sighting the black armor and cape, hearing the tautness of the mans gloved hands as they rested upon his waist and felt his confidence rise in the knowledge that the Dark Lord was correct, the time for truth was indeed at hand. He turned confidently back to the outstretched hand of the guard and retrieved his code cylinders, returning them to his pocket as he stared down toward his polished black boots for a moment, prepared to tread where truth rarely did. With another tug at his uniform top, he nodded his readiness and strode forward as the massive doors opened to a cavernous auditorium, filled with raucous arguments and lively debate.
The tone within hushed instantly as garishly outfitted advisors, confidants, and viziers alike joined their uniformed colleagues from all branch of Imperial service into a muted sea of whispers and head turning, each wanting a glimpse of the man that had, inconceivably, garnered the respect of the Dark Lord. The subdued whispers only gasped in a measure of awe and a simplistic reverence as they watched the Deputy Director stride down the central aisle, leading the charge that included Lord Vader, a cadre of analysts with heads downturned toward feet and a small contingent of ISB’s own legal delegation.
Walker remained expressionless beyond the stoicism he had imparted prior to entering the chambers, his eyes before him with laser-like focus on an imaginary point over his Emperor’s left shoulder. His chest heaved with massive breaths, involuntarily matching the sonorous cadence elicited by the man behind him. Within his peripheral, he noted the scattering of red uniforms in places well apart from one another, wondering if his verbal opponent in this debate had placed strategic importance upon the fact. He dispelled the thought as he exhaled, the mechanical report behind him offering the means to clear his thoughts through the exchange, wanting nothing more than to reach the spread of tables and chairs waiting for the parade he was leading.
Audenhoen couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being manipulated, that Isard was working some vehicle of deception beyond his rational thinking, ‘the uniforms,’ he thought to himself. He had his own operatives mingled throughout the gathering, ready to offer whisper to an offered ear in recitation of well-rehearsed manipulations of his own design, but the boldness of the Military Intelligence Director to spread her own operatives so clearly visible could not be denied. Perhaps a working theory of his own concepts put to work would offer more by way of political support and less over his own misgivings concerning something that could be nothing more than the manifestation of his own skepticism. Walker eyed his predecessor, his mentor through the frictional transition following Yullaren’s death. He assured himself that he would retain the stoic expression, hardened through his features, as he drew his eyes into narrow cracks of intense scrutiny, penetrating the old man’s vacancy in efforts to remove any tethers his tenuous doubt revived. Again, he was comforted, alarming he thought, by the cadence of Lord Vaders breathing apparatus, the succinct timing of each inhale and exhale the perfect monotony with which to establish the ground work for his own resolve.
Audenhoen found his seat, a high backed plastoid furnishing that would provide little by way of comfort, but that wasn’t the point. His retinue continued filing in and around him as they each seated themselves into similar chairs, he at the center, and Lord Vader taking a prominent stance on his feet directly behind him. The whispers began to increase in volume as Walker overheard several of the mutterings, gasps and questioning rumblings eliciting a genuine surprise, the Dark Lords presence working its intended effect no doubt. Again, Walker looked to the vacant eyes of Director Barton Coburn as he sat amid the throngs of Emperor Palpatine’s High Counsel, the lone ambassador representing the Imperial Security Bureau’s special interests for the moment. Emperor Sheev Palpatine himself basking in the darkness of his high-backed throne, set within the recess of shadow behind the half circle of Imperial elite. Walker could read nothing in the man’s eyes, no pride nor reservation, no worry or doubt, just an absent stare that seemed to penetrate his own rock-solid resolution.
“Well, that was quite the entrance Deputy Director.” The words of Grand Vizier Mas Ameda rocked Walker from his self-imposed trance, his attention shifting just as quickly.
“Nothing by any other manner than a means to bring this congregation to conclusion Grand Vizier.” Walker responded without rising to his feet, his eyes flashing from Coburn to stare themselves into the Chagrians mocking features, Barton nodding his satisfaction.
“We will get right to the point then Deputy Director. Startling accusations have been placed against you that will need satisfactory conclusion of their own if we are to proceed to this sessions intended purpose.” Ameda continued, beginning to weave a carefully prepared agenda of his own that required modifications upon seeing Lord Vader amongst those at Audenhoen’s side. “Several Imperial assets continue to be serviced toward a ready status, including the Executor itself, is that correct Deputy Director?”
“Yup.” Walker would keep it as simple as he could, letting any of his detractors fill the void with unnecessary verbiage.
“Perhaps a more deeply committed answer be required for our records.” Janus Greejatus spoke from his position aside the Chagrian.
“Uh-huh.” Walker shrugged his reply to the dour looks from all but Barton. “Ok. Yes. Still containing the same amount of syllables as my initial reply.” He could already sense the irritation within the man Walker hated most amongst the Emperor’s advisors and would strive to deviate from his internal verbal pledge only to drive that ire deeper.
“The cause of such catastrophe still remains an unknown element to this particular equation, but we have been supplied information suggesting the initial plans of which came from your office directly some years ago Deputy Director.” Mas Ameda continued, his lethorns beginning to twitch aside his heavy-set chest.
Without offering any link to his emotions regarding the topic, Walker blinked absently as the Vizier’s words began to die within their own echo. An ensuing silence caused all but the most tested reason to shift in their own seats, wondering why the Deputy Director refrained from response. “Well?” Ameda continued.
“Well, what? There was nothing of substance in your statement and you surely did not ask a question so, please, continue.” Audenhoen responded to the stifled chortles of ill-timed laughter erupting from pockets throughout the massive chamber. Defying protocol, and measuring the weight of boisterous condescension with reason, Walker stood up, “questioning the merits of your own insinuations let me phrase a question for you to consider, Grand Vizier.”
“This is most irregular Deputy Director.” Mas Ameda bellowed to the gasps of shock that had replaced the chuckling.
“As it is that you venture down avenues with nothing but illogical dead ends Grand Vizier. If it is your intent to drive home some agenda far removed from any oversight ISB has ever had with regards to theoretical weaponry, I will remind you that we do not, nor have we been privy to, methods of oversight within the confines of Military Intelligence regarding such matters.” Walker paused for a moment to steel himself, however, not long enough for anyone to waylay his argument with incendiary comments of their own. “I witnessed the destruction firsthand Grand Vizier. Something far greater than the destructive power of our own battle station laid waste to several Imperial capital ships. Our offices are only now, almost a year removed from its own destruction, receiving statistical elements of the Death Stars involvement in the annihilation of Alderaan.” Let them stew over the past he thought to himself as the Chagrian prepared his retort, ‘let them fidget with that truth for a time,’ he continued inwardly, the sonorous breaths behind him providing him the grounding to remain on task.
“We are not here to discuss Alderaan.” Ysanne Isard rose from her seat aside Barton Coburn, her discolored eyes burning with an icy fire of resolve.
“Well, that is news well met Director, as I said, ISB, and more to the point, my office, are only now receiving the data we had requested months ago. And thank you madam Director for returning this hearing to a righted origin. Why would there ever be plans for theoretical weaponry within the hands of ISB Ma’am? And more importantly, why within my grasp?” He knew he was moving his game pieces close to the brink of capture while at the same time ushering in conclusion with strategic speed.
“That is the question we are here to identify Deputy Director.” Isard responded with mirth.
“Then let us be quick about it, there is much I need to discuss with my own Director Ma’am.” He paused again, letting the chitters amongst the assembled work his advantage. “Plans, or even implementation as we can agree at this point, would only be under your purview Miss Isard, more particularly within your own Advanced Weaponry division. The magnitude of what was witnessed in orbit over Ambria would have taken years to transfer from concept to theory to implementation, years that would date its own inception back to the divisional oversight and discretion of one Orson Krennic, and by all rights and merit, directly into the hands of your own father.” Audenhoen hit his mark without question, the groans of both agreement and apprehension sounding their full report within the chamber. He knew, now, that they could get to the point of the inquisition, and returned to his seat expecting the turn that was inevitable.
Ysanne Isard remained standing for a moment, realizing the gravity of her own expectations within the confines of diatribe, crashing down around her as quickly as her own ambitious plot to secure both seats. She bore her gaze directly into the unflinching Deputy Director without the response she had always come to expect from her male counterparts, specifically her detractors. The man was rigid in his composure and unwilling to direct his verbal course beyond the focus those gathered had come to expect. No, the man is perfect the job he would inherit she thought to herself, ‘but his time will come,’ she continued internally, reaching down to the table before her to brace decline back into the chair.
“Then let us move along to the actions of your former agent Deputy Director. Miss Sigurn’s ‘timely’ defection came with great cost, no answers, and a great deal of cleaning up to tend to.” Greejatus barked, seemingly quite eager to continue finding ways to humiliate the Deputy Director.
“A sore point for me still Advisor, I can only assume then that you have failed in apprehending her?” Audenhoen bit right back, “I recall that was the directive promised by your own administrators after what little details of her defection surfaced.”
Again, the chiding jeers ascended the walls of the chamber, riding the Advisor toward heightened lengths of roiling contention. “To that end, no, we have not been able to locate her.”
“Then I would focus on something you may actually be able to do Advisor.” Audenhoen continued, barely giving the man time to voice his answer. He did not ease up one iota, “Miss Isard has had her opportunity to regale fanciful theories, now it is to you I turn to further the discussion toward a reunion of both topics.” Audenhoen pushed himself up to his feet, crossed his arms behind his back and began to casually stroll behind the seats of cadre of analysts and legal corps, “I have had ample time to recall all manner of record keeping throughout the confines of my office.” He spoke clearly and slowly, letting his narrative lead those gathered down the only avenue he would allow them. “Always someone watching.” He said with a wry smile and a wink toward his own Director, “please Advisor, enlighten me if you will.” He would not relent, returning his gaze to Greejatus once again, “hypothetically, how would highly classified plans, originating from Advanced Weapons Research mind you, find their way into the secured files of an ISB Deputy Director?”
“Must we entertain this monumental waste of time in order to satiate your own self prescribed innocence?” Advisor Greejatus responded with a murky quality to his pensive voice.
“I thought we were talking about my assistant Advisor, and yes, you will.” Audenhoen responded, again alighting his own sense of grounding to fall in cadence with Lord Vaders noticeable exhales. He knew he was pushing the limits of both duty and station, but his mind was a furious storm as it whipped his concerns into a froth. “This has nothing to do with misappropriations, nor any conceivable blame that could be directed one way or another.” Audenhoen folded his hands before himself as he strode before the ring of highly backed chairs and the members of the Imperial High Counsel seated upon them. “Members of this counsel….it would make more sense to me to focus on the achievement itself rather than wasting time divining its origins.” He finished his statement, casually glancing toward the shifting form of the Emperor in the shadows behind them all. Walker had noted the statuesque form clad in dark robes, moving nothing as he simply listened through the diatribes, this shift in his stance however was something of note.
“Members of this counsel. I don’t feel it a stretch to say that we all know full well where the plans originated, and due to Ambria, now know to whom the late Director assigned the task.” Audenhoen was beginning to drive home his point, “let us embrace the achievement, consistent with the cost involved, noting that Sylde was able to accumulate vast amounts of data throughout the exchange.” He made sure to keep the shadows within his peripheral, noting the forward cant of the robes draping subtly over the edges of the throne they occupied.
“You propose then to concede ISB involvement in the procurement of the plans in question?” Another of the advisors asked, causing Audenhoen to swivel slightly to look into the sunken eyes of Kren Blista-Vanee. Walker had never heard the man speak before and understood upon hearing the question that perhaps few had. The voice was a rasping whisper, escaping the hollows of the skeletal man as a guided proposition sourced by someone else entirely.
Audenhoen let his subtle exhale show through his chest, “is this truly a matter that needs further discussion? If you are looking for directness pertaining to the trivial, no, ISB was not involved whatsoever, however Advisor, I will note that I think you, as well as the majority of your colleagues, are missing the point.” He finally stole his gaze from the man whom he wasn’t quite certain was actually alive, to pan his view over the throng of attendees behind him, clasping his hands behind his back once again. “In the wake of capital losses, in the form of both machine and man, the only proposition I bring to those assembled is advice.” He stopped fully, canting his head downward toward his polished boots, contrasting brilliantly with the dull grays of the synthweave below them. He snapped around to focus entirely on his Emperor bypassing the haughty stares of Counsel members and colleagues, “deniability has run its course, either plausible or improbable. Fear throughout the galaxy has transcended to stoicism, which has, in turn, fomented into a cause.” He knew there would be backlash to be had from the comment, but it needed to be said. “We have given them hope simply because we haven’t owned our own role. DS1 was galactic brilliance, however we should have made Alderaan our first statement, not a footnote. If indeed there is now a working prototype for oscillation discharge, then we must own it!” Walker heard his voice echo through the chamber, the resonance within surprising even himself as he half turned toward Vader, then back again toward the Emperor.
“Come now Deputy Director,” Bregius Gothan boomed through his unnaturally deep tones, defying the tall but gaunt man’s ability to surprise those around him, “stoicism, causes...now hope. We have already stamped that into oblivion.”
“Have we?” Audenhoen fired back without pause as he bore his gaze into the withered man’s features, “I was there Advisor, I saw what hope is left in the galaxy through the campaign over and on Ambria.” His audience was proceeding to do his work for him for all the progress he was making toward his own agenda, “a campaign that critically disabled two Super Star Destroyers, the atomization of several others, derelict coordination efforts, the effects of solo intrusion into our own network, and something I could not even begin to explain planet side….No Advisor, hope is very much alive and well, do not make the mistake of fooling yourself otherwise.” Audenhoen finalized to a thrum of gasps, murmurings, musings, and rumblings behind him, Gothan himself conceding to those truths as he scowled only briefly before seating himself without retort.
Walker Audenhoen let the chatter take on its own life as he swiveled his focus to his Emperor once more, feeling the man’s own eyes locked on his. He felt a sudden apprehension that was completely self-derived, he knew, as the hood was withdrawn just far enough for the yellowed embers to burn with an intensity Walker felt unnatural. At the same time he felt calming wave after wave of vigor and tranquility, two emotions he would never imagined possible within these confines. A pacification had been settled between him and this Counsel, one that stood in contrast to their proposed agenda from the outset. They were looking for easement. He had rerouted that agenda fully. Walker looked to his Director, the weathered man that sat squat in his position at the very end of the raised dais, his almost lipless smile turning up to obfuscate his sunken eyes. He only nodded quickly in Audenhoen’s direction as Walker paced his retreat back to his seat amid his own delegation. He let the throng of murmuring continue as he neared Vader, letting the mechanisms within the man’s suit drown out the contention behind him seating himself down on the uncomfortable chair and lifting his gaze directly into the woman’s seated next to his Director. Isard burned her heterochromatic eyes straight through him, Walker certain that those silvery locks graciously arcing over her cheeks had turned gray in a matter of seconds.
Despite the fidgeting members of the collective Counsel, leaning into one another to deliver silent whispers that no doubt carried very personal opinion, Walker Audenhoen continued to return the fiery gaze of Ysanne Isard without gratification or indulgence. She said nothing through the look, only a measured warning to intrude no farther. Walker would go wherever his personal quest took him regardless of what may come or obstacles barring the way, a sentiment he made sure his gaze reflected back to her with an authority borne from a combination of his own resolve and the inexplicable confidence emanating from the sonorous breathing behind him.
“Enough.” The voice was thunder in Walker’s ears, snapping his attention quickly to locate source. The dark robes shifted as their owner pushed himself to stand behind the Counsel and from the depths of shadows. Emperor Palpatine ushered himself slowly forward and into the light of the domed chamber, peeling the oversized hood carefully back and over the deformity of the creases at his brow. “This Counsel has more than ample reason to question your motives Deputy Director, but you’ve satiated my own queries with your patterned resolve toward unequivocal truth. Debate is no longer on the table as it were, the position filled in the interim by Director Barton Coburn is now yours. Do not disappoint me, Director Walker Audenhoen.” The verbal thrum continued as thunder in Audenhoen’s ears, the lower inflections felt as they rapped his chest for command of his attention into and of itself and away from the momentary gasps of shock and turning heads of the collective Counsel before him, all but his former Admiral who continued to beam his elation straight into Walker’s soul.
With a sharp rap on the floor below the tipped end of the speaker’s staff he never went anywhere without, Mas Ameda, called attention to the formalities of procedure. The rise the hushed voices had enacted came to a crashing halt as silence overtook the chamber once again, “This Counsel is concluded.”
Walker sat back in his seat, raising a hand to his chin as he absently watched his Emperor return the cowl over his crooked features and slid his hands back into the folds of his robes. Although Audenhoen couldn’t see his gaze he felt the penetrating stare through the cowl’s shadow, holding it there for a moment before turning himself from the steps of his own dais and around the back of his throne, melding entirely with the shadows behind it. Walker felt a mix of opposing factions dueling within, hardened and righteous behind the truth of his own diatribe, yet scorn and folly for the scant information he actually revealed. He pinched his chin between finger and thumb as he continued staring into the shadows beyond the raised throne, certain that the outcome attained would have been the same whether he was present or not. He reminded himself of Raada and the final tendrils of open conversation between himself and his former assistant, how he may not have been as clear as he should have been, or how open she actually was to the difficulties of navigating hyperbole.
“Congratulations Director.” Lord Vaders sonorous voice sounded behind him, reeling him in out of his thoughts. Walker turned slowly, realizing that few were remaining in the chamber beyond himself, the Dark Lord, and the team he had ushered in behind him, themselves looking to him for permission to leave. Audenhoen nodded his approval as he finished his pivot, raising himself from the plastoid in audible relief. “Lord Vader.” He spoke the words, his own chest flexing from the bellicose nature his voice had become, “I am of the opinion that it was already won.” He trailed off involuntarily, surprising himself with the nature of ease he was growing accustomed to in the Dark Lords presence. Walker scaled the black armor before him with his eyes, focusing on the orbs of the mask, opaque windows that reflected more than they granted insight.
“Yes.” Vader replied without reservation.
“A position I had imagined laughable even a few months removed, but here we are.” Walker replied, focusing on his own reflection within the orbs.
Vader waited for the suit to perform a deep exhale, “Yes, Director. Here WE are.” Came the reply, the emphatic connotation delivering the same results his conflicting emotions were.
✦
“I offered nothing of substance beyond what they either expected or had previously known.” Audenhoen retorted as he walked with his former Admiral toward his new office on the seventy-seventh floor of the Imperial Security Bureau’s central headquarters, “to defy the prospect of reason is to question the very truths that are essential to the core of what we defend.”
Barton Coburn couldn’t stifle a laugh as his audible guffaw was muffled by the lavish carpeting under foot, “that comment right there, Audy, is all the reasoning you need to feel rest assured this position is deserved outright.” He said, patting his former Deputy on the shoulder blade.
Walker stopped up short turning to the smaller man, “a comment that conveys nothing in and of itself Barton.” He said, creases of concern pinching at his eyes, “is this why then? His Excellency delivers position based on meritless and contrived conjecture?”
“Quite the contrary Audy. His sights were set on granting Miss Isard her request, it was for the majority of the Counsel that the hearing even took place.” Coburn alighted with a charismatic smile, releasing his hand from Audenhoen’s back only to clasp them both behind his back as he turned his aged frame toward his former office again. “Don’t look at me like that.” He continued without missing the sidled glance Walker continued to impart, “yes, she holds some sway within his mind, but he will still defer to the majority when it comes to matters of policy and procedure.”
“So then, this ‘promotion’ is quite superficial…” Walker tried to get in before Barton cut him off.
“There is nothing superficial regarding the office granted Audy, your advocacy is reason enough to see to that.” He said without a trace of the earlier levity, “use that particular fact to best possible advantage you can. Then, and only then, will you find the truth you seek.”
Walker couldn’t reply, Barton had seen to that. The old man continued walking to the doorway before them, pulling out his code cylinder for the last time as he presented it to the small terminal beside it. The door slid open with its pneumatic hiss, Barton realizing only then that Audenhoen was still a few steps behind him. “Walker, whatever happened on Ambria, despite your glaringly sparse mention of detail, Lord Vader has found reason to ally himself with your agenda.” He said, half turning to his protege, “just be certain you are confident that agenda ally itself with the Emperor himself.” He finished, turning fully into the doorway, and stepping through.
Walker considered the advice for a long moment as he watched the old man carry himself into the office that would soon be his alone, his thoughts wandering inconceivably toward the man’s own agenda following a well-deserved retirement. He knew those old eyes had seen everything, “not everything” he reminded himself, the imagery imprinted within his own memory of Ambria far from anything most people would ever see. Despite his better judgement, and continuous thoughts regarding the sights he had seen, he knew his decisions going forward would remain irrevocably linked to the Dragon that would not die.