Era of Rebellion - Navigation

Sean Brandt, Christopher Levy, and Sarah Riggs-Shute.
Zero years after the Battle of Yavin (35:10:34) in the Essesia system: Interrogator and Warspite.
Captain/Major Serra Eona, High Inquisitor Serine Thanor, and Major Min Traebor.

It Captain Serra Eona filled many roles in her current position with Imperial Intelligence, but above all else, her duty was to know things. All the blasters and fleets in the galaxy meant nothing without knowledge. While it no doubt seemed to most that she sat around in her quarters smoking all day, that was only half true. Her brief time aboard the Interrogator had not been idle, but most of the crew hadn't seen much of her since her arrival. Serra, rather than touring the wrecked hangar or molesting prisoners, had been hard at work spreading her roots through the internal databanks and networks of the II-Class Star Destroyer, digging into every inch of digital space she could. Most of the systems were open doors to an Intel Officer with her clearance, but she knew better than to stop there. After all, the most interesting things occurred in places people thought were private. It was behind closed doors, in live feeds that were destined for purging or closed-circuit surveillance not meant to be seen, where the most dangerous threats to the Empire lurked.

While the Interrogator wasn't nearly as compromised as the Warspite, due to the frequent vetting of the crew under its Sith masters, if any threat did lay dormant it could prove to be much more detrimental than your run-of-the-mill desertion. Very little of immediate concern had appeared, though, until Serra found her way into a closed feed that tied into the security cameras in the interrogation chambers. The feed was directed to the office of Commander Hunter Luscri. It was ostensibly cut off from the rest of the ship's network, but nothing ever truly was if you knew where to look, and Serra most certainly did. What she found was the middle of the interrogation of El-Nay Darr, the orange Mandalorian that had been part in parcel to the destruction of one of the Interrogator's hangar bays. A smoldering cigarra rested in the Officer's mouth as she watched, studying this glimpse into Serine's technique, as well as how the others around her handled themselves in her presence. It was quite a sight, but nothing beyond the expected so far as an Inquisitor's work went. The same could not be said for what she would witness a few days later when, from the same secret feed, she bore witness to the interrogation of Dimona.

It had been mere hours after the Dimona interrogation and the Inquisitor was reeling from the information she received. Despite the strange complexities of this particular engagement, Serine had managed to succeed in withdrawing the necessary information and was surprised with some extra knowledge she had not expected. Apparently Major Min Traebor had withheld vital data that could have been extremely useful. The fact that the Major had once before interrogated the prisoner raised quite a few questions that needed answering. Shortly after Serine returned to her office after a harrowing ordeal she would rather forget, she would send in a summons request for Captain Eona. This was an impromptu conference inquiry but was necessary if the Inquisitor was going to get to the bottom of these odd circumstances quickly. Perhaps Serra knew more that she was also withholding, perhaps covering for her boss? Or perhaps she would be just as startled as Serine had been to learn of these details. Regardless, the Captain's transfer to the Interrogator was already bearing some fruit.

Considering what she had witnessed through the hacked feed, Serra Eona wasn't particularly surprised by the summons. She wasted no time in dressing, pulling on her uniform jacket after strapping on the holster of her DL-18. The cigarra she'd been smoking was finished off and discarded before she left her quarters, making short time on her way to Serine's offices. Since she had been summoned this time, there was no wait; Serra was shown in and, once the doors hissed shut behind her, she gave a bow to where the Sith stood. "Lord Inquisitor. Reporting, as requested." Her tone was even and calm as ever. Normally a name would have been included, but that was one formality she didn't feel was necessary.

The Captain was prompt, orderly and respectful which was always the characteristics that Serine appreciated and would look for. Serra was one of the officers the Inquisitor had in mind to 'liberate' from the emotionally malfunctioning Warspite, and felt her talents could be better spent on a ship that was not a floating disaster in space. "Captain." Serine caught sight of the woman entering into the office and waved her inside. There was an obvious lack of seating arrangements, but that was on purpose. The Inquisitor did not wish anyone to feel too comfortable, and thus would require everyone to stand during any sort of meeting. Serine herself, when addressing superiors would always stand at attention and would never be so inclined to be at ease, even if commanded to. "I'll have you know that the interrogation of Dimona was ... successful." There was just a brief pause in her sentence because the details of that interrogation were ... complicated. Little did the Inquisitor know that Serra had watched the whole embarrassing calamity unfold in a live feed. "In addition to learning where Jelena had been released, the prisoner mentioned Major Min Traebor as having not only met her, but interrogated her in the past. This information was not within Dimona's files." Eyes narrowed ever so slightly towards the Captain. No accusations were directed at her yet, but it could be assumed the Inquisitor was wary of Serra's possible involvement. Serine watched the other's reactions to this information for any hints of past entanglements.

Years of training and practice had gone into making Serra difficult to interpret from an outward glance. She was only human, of course; she felt on the inside, experienced emotional reactions to the world around her, but they had been warped into something far less overt. For most it was impossible to tell what was going on behind those eyes. For one skilled in the force, it wasn't a great deal easier, but it was possible. She listened, standing straight, hands folded behind her back, a small itch for a cigarra present but so far utterly ignored. A single brow lifted at the mention of Min's negligence. Well, wasn't that convenient. "Major Traebor has often neglected to file reports on her actions since assuming her position with the local branch, Inquisitor. She is, of course, at liberty to use her own discretion in these matters, though it is...unusual." While Serra, in part with Kia's assistance, had witnessed quite a few of these events, she wasn't about to reveal just how deep her infiltration could go. Not yet. "I imagine her previous work was sufficient to raise her status, but the Major has since displayed some concerning habits, not the least of which is intense personal involvement in her work, to the detriment of its effectiveness." Serra had been gradually planting the seeds for this moment. It was time to see what they would blossom into.

If Serra knew anything about Min's previous involvement with Dimona, Serine did not sense it, but instead was given other matters to focus her attention on. The Inquisitor wondered why she had not felt the need to question Serra about the Major previously, especially after the entire operation had been handed over to the Captain. At the time, Serine had assumed the rather jarring meeting between herself and Major Traebor had been enough to sway the woman from further partnership, thus Serine had at the time no need to question further. That was apparently a mistake as there was new questionable unsavory antics of the Major that she missed. "What concerning habits are you implying, Captain?" The Inquisitor leaned a bit forward in her seat, now fully invested and irked that perhaps the Major had been hiding more than she anticipated. It was clear that the Inquisitor was growing more annoyed though the anger would likely not be provoked upon Serra.

Serine wasn't exactly mistaken in her assumption about the last meeting between her and Min, but Serra had so far failed to mention that it had been entirely her idea to place herself as liaison to the sith. Most likely she never would. As Serine leaned forward, Serra knew she had her attention. Her work was not quite complete, however. The bait had done its job; now she had to guide Serine to the proper conclusions without it being too obvious. "At first I only noticed that Major Traebor was making liberal use of her position and resources to pursue personal vendettas that were not truly the concern of Imperial Intelligence. While that sort of thing is frowned upon, though, it was hardly my most alarming discovery. Following her meeting with you, Lord Inquisitor, the Major reported to my quarters aboard the Warspite. She had been drinking, to the point that she revealed quite a bit about your conversation with her to me, and then proceeded to pass out on my bed. It was at this point I took the liberty of coming to you, Inquisitor, to serve as liaison to the Bureau. I would have spoken to you of this sooner, but there were more pressing matters to handle by the time I arrived." Speaking of the destruction caused by the duo of bounty hunters, of course. Serra had exposed the fact that it had been her idea to come to the Interrogator and assume Min's duties, but she was banking on the revelation of Min's condition to justify it.

This was quite a lot of new details for the Inquisitor to digest and she had not been expecting this sort of reveal. As the specifics of the Captain's account flowed freely and began to be processed by Serine, Serra could notice the Inquisitor becoming ever more agitated and provoked as the time passed. There was never a point where she mentally questioned the validity of the Captain's claims, for the woman's narrative was crafted in such a way that seemed wholly feasible. "The insolence!" She nearly growled as she stood up quickly from behind her desk. These claims most certainly needed to be verified by the Major herself and Serine was all too anxious to question that woman personally. However, the fact that the Inquisitor was only now hearing of the insubordination of Min from what should have been a steadfast superior officer absolutely vexed Serine. "That is no excuse, Captain!" A fist slammed down upon the desk in an irate fashion, completely astonished on why it seems all of her crew kept failing to disclose vital information. It was as if the Inquisitor was constantly the last one to know everything. It was time to take the matters into her own hands and visit Major Traebor in a spontaneous meeting that there would be no way she could prepare for or avoid. Though Serine had snapped at Serra, her anger was most certainly directed towards Min for being the main instigator of these botched matters. Without further regard for the Captain, the Inquisitor abruptly rushed right past the other woman, making a hasty move towards the exit of her office.

Any sort of reprimand from a Sith was enough to make most anyone cower, but the legendary fortitude of Imperial Intelligence was in full effect with the Captain, who simply lifted her brows as the fist struck the desk with incredibly force. Oh, she knew full well how dangerous a game she played, but once you played it long enough, one learned to play it well. "Of course, Inquisitor. My apologies." Serra knew better than to present another excuse or re-iterate what she'd said. She simply offered a bow. By the time she was rising from the motion, Serine was already damn near out of the door, and Serra moved to follow. Being in the presence of a Sith on the warpath could be dangerous, but what was about to play out was a direct consequence of her own efforts, at least to some extent. More importantly, Serra knew well that Min was no idiot. She would try to cover herself...and so the Captain had to be there, to deflect and retaliate, to keep Serine's ire focused where she needed it to be. The last thing she needed was the slippery Major to turn the sith's anger back on her. It would undo every bit of her work up to this moment. With that in her mind, Serra marched in Serine's wake, the only thought on her mind beyond what was about to happen being the slight but ever present itch for a smoke.

Deep within the bowels of the Imperial I-class Star Destroyer Warspite lay the suite of offices that had been assigned to Imperial Intelligence. At the very end of the corridor was the office of Major Min Traebor, the sector officer for the Ringali Shell. She had asked not to be disturbed, and posted guards in the form of two Stormtroopers at the outside of the door. Inside the office the lights were dim, and with good reason ... the Major had her feet up on her desk, and her head was leaned back in her reclining chair. The sound of snoring was the main noise in the room, followed by the rhythmic beeping of an unanswered comlink. On the desk in front of her was a half smoked cigarra in an ashtray, and a bottle of Corellian ale was turned over on its side, it's contents spilled onto a pile of datapads whose circuits had been destroyed ... their contents lost forever. She felt comfortable sleeping, as she had tasked her chief subordinate, Captain Serra Eona with managing most of the important tasks.

High Inquisitor Thanor's unannounced visit to the Warspite was unexpected to be sure. The moment she arrived on board she moved with heated purpose and intent. With her time spent serving on this vessel, she had memorized nearly every corridor and was very familiar with the set of offices that would house members of the Imperial Intelligence. It did not take her long to stalk down those many hallways in search of Major Min Traebor's office. Serine was very aware that she had been followed by Captain Eona the whole journey but paid little mind as her attention was too focused on the task at hand. Occupants in the hallways were absolutely shocked to see the Inquisitor traversing this area and quickly moved from her path in shear terror before scurrying away in relief as if they survived a near apocalypse. As Serine turned the last corner into the final corridor, she would notice two Stormtroopers posting guard outside what she assumed was Major Traebor's office. Serine had zero patience to wait for acknowledgement. Thus, the Stormtroopers did not even have a chance to move or question the Inquisitor before they would find themselves colliding with the adjacent wall with enough power to knock them both unconscious. Together, their white armor clad bodies crumpled into a unorganized heap in which Serine stepped over to reach the door. She figured her high priority access code should be well enough to override the controls and she was rewarded with that assumption. With the request accepted, the door slid open allowing the Inquisitor free reign. One look inside was all the appraisal she needed before a heavy scowl overtook her features. In a fit of uncompromised fury, Serine rushed over to where Min was sleeping, grabbed a fistful of that woman's hair before slamming her face mercilessly into that useless pile of alcohol soaked data disks. "You filth! Is this truly how you spend your time?!" She screamed at the other in heavy accusation.

Serra Eona couldn't entirely predict what Serine would do when they got there, but she knew it was going to be an event not to be missed. The woman in her stark white jacket and black slacks was a shadow to the Sith, just behind and to the side, keeping up with the other woman's furious pace. She watched as the guards were dealt with in a matter of seconds, stepping over their bodies and into the room, the door sliding shut behind her. She bore witness as Serine came around the desk, moving in for the kill, a deadly predator pouncing on drunk, half-aware prey. There was no need for words or interjection. The Major had done all the work for her now. She couldn't have played into this better if she'd tried. Captain Serra Eona reached into her jacket and produced a cigarra, lighting it, the small flame blinding her to the scene for a moment, but she could still hear the slap of flesh against metal and plasteel. She took a long drag, exhaling, watching the Inquisitor unleash her fury through a haze of smoke.

The sudden interruption to Min's drunken slumber caused her to awaken swiftly, but in a confused state, that caused her legs to swing wildly off the desk, sending the bottle inadvertently flying towards the Inquisitor. "Huh? Wha?" she said, as her eyes began to blink rapidly, attempting to focus in the darkened rom. It took a few moments, but then she eventually saw it was the High Inquisitor herself, and her heart began to sink. She stood up at full attention, rigidly as she could, and her hands quickly moved to pull down her wrinkled cream colored tunic. She said nothing, but simply stood there, staring directly ahead, and exhibiting as much military bearing as she could muster.

That wine bottle was caught in a right hand effortlessly before it was flung into the wall right behind Min, causing it to explode and spray glass all over the floor. Apparently the Major was in a drunken stupor and needed to be prompted, and Serine was all too eager to throw around contested allegations. Both hands were slammed down upon the desk, causing the remaining of those ruined data pads to scatter across the table adding to the chaos that was ensuing. "You interrogated Dimona Xirie Nuebla in the past. Not only did you withhold this information, but you failed to file a proper report on why!" Just the fact that Dimona was interrogated without mention alone was a bother, but there was always more to that story. What were Dimona's activities before, what were the details of that interrogation and why were they performed? Serine's status as a High Inquisitor should give her nearly full access to any sanctioned interrogations, especially if they involved a high priority Imperial target as Dimona had been. Was Min so absolutely inept that she could not perform the bare minimum of her duties? She apparently needed more time to sleep! But from what exhausting activities? Min had turned over the investigation to Serra so she should have no excuse for this incompetence.

Serra couldn't have planned this better. Min's waking stupor made the Major look that much more foolish, and it was glaringly obvious how angry the whole situation was making Serine. Had Major Traebor been hard at work, or at the very least awake and sober, Serra might still have had serious work ahead of her. As it was, all she had to do was stand in the shadows of the dimly lit room, her features accented now and then by the glow of her cigarra as she watched her work come to fruition. It was beautiful when a plan came together.

Dimona, Dimona, Dimona ... that bitch of a bounty hunter would continue to plague her until the end of days, Min thought silently to herself, as her drew as tightly together as it could without cracking her teeth. It was in that moment that she had to decide whom she feared more ... Inquisitor Thanor or Director Isard. She swallowed, and it would not take a Force sensitive to determine that she was very uncomfortable. "Forgive me for not becoming forthcoming, Inquisitor," Min began, after clearing her throat and focusing across the woman shrouded in darkness. "The first encounter with Nuebla was under orders from Director Isard. The records were sealed under the highest security clearance," she explained, matter-of-factly, as she very well could not reveal that her superiors had ordered her to eliminate the Grand Moff using a bounty hunter that turned out to be his own brother. Nor could she inform the woman that she had captured this man, only to allow the upstart Neubla to free him from Imperial hands.

The Inquisitor glared at the other woman in disgust, and in addition to the impression Serra had highlighted about her so called superior, Serine was getting a very clear picture of the overall situation. This was quickly turning into what the Inquisitor now surmised was a 'rescue' mission, one to rip Captain Serra from the destitute and blight that ran rampant on the Warspite. These had been her working conditions? Serine wondered how Serra stayed so professional, and sane. If anyone deserved to be repurposed, it was the Captain, and the Inquisitor was very close to just ending the stain that was Major Traedor. Her very existence was offensive. "You are a disgrace." Said frigidly to the Intel officer. "I find you pathetically suited for your title and responsibilities. Inefficient and negligent at your duties, and irresponsible and unworthy of subordinates. Instead of seeking out the threats to His Majesty or even the many obvious repugnant abnormalities on this very ship, you instead waste any possible fraction of your potential left by emptying a bottle in sluggish inactivity. In no way do you deserve the assistance of Captain Eona. Neither do you deserve your rank, nor your life." Serine said darkly and this could easily escalate to a brutal beheading.

Min was clever. Serra had to give her that much. The Major was incredibly good at talking her way out of bad situations, but this time, Serra felt confident that no amount of talking would allow her to worm her way out of this one. The avoidance of blame regarding the Dimona interrogation was incredibly skillful, but what Min achieved there was entirely undone by the alcohol-soaked datapads. It was a hole that Major Traebor simply couldn't crawl out of, or so Serra hoped. She took another healthy draw from the cigarra, still finding no need for intervention just yet.

Min stiffened at the words spoken to her by the Inquisitor, again swallowing nervously to ensure that some semblance of moisture remained in her mouth. "Inquisitor, when I entered the academy I turned my life over to the Empire. Do with it as you see fit," she said to the Inquisitor coldly, resigned to her fate, as she turned her head to look the woman squarely in the eyes. She had all she could take from this, and she refused to break down and beg at this last critical juncture in her life. In her mind the Inquisitor had already rendered a verdict so there was no need to add humiliation to her list of pains. If she were going to die, best to die on her feet, like the propaganda holovids she had helped create earlier in her career called for.

It had been very obvious from the direction Serine was going that this potentially was mounting to be an execution. In the Inquisitor's mind, there was no redeeming factors for the Intel officer, and thus she was beyond redemption. After she had fully expressed why Major Traebor was a waste of air, a hand briskly fell to the hilt of her lightwhip and began to unravel its many coils in preparation. Serine assumed more useless dribble would be sloshing out of the ill-mannered Major, so she had moved before giving the other woman a chance to speak. This was not the first nor the last time the Inquisitor would perform her more extreme duties. Coils splayed out upon the deck in a flourish of movement. There was a growing tension and building anticipation as it became very clear what would come next. How fortunate it was for Min that she just so happened to say the most impeccable response that caused Serine to completely halt in her commitment. Silver eyes silently peered at the other in deep contemplation and appraisal. It was then Serine realized the likely explanation of how Min Traebor received her rank. That was an exceedingly clever remark to catch Serine off guard and disarm her building anger. In a fluid motion, the whip returned to its rightful place by her side, sparing the Major from an untimely and gruesome demise. "You are relieved of *Major* Eona." Said as one last gaze was given to Min and the unsightly office before Serine abruptly turned and exited the room.

Things were shaping up nicely. Everyone was doing their part, falling into place, and soon the rot would be removed. Well, one small part of it. There was no lack of problems in this place, but Serra had wanted to root out the one that she had felt was meant to be turning things around first, giving her room to do so. What transpired next, however, was unexpected. She had always known Min was clever, but even this she had not anticipated. It was an incredible move in a high stakes game, and the Major had clenched some small victory out of it. As the lightwhip was coiled up and returned to the Sith's belt, Captain Serra Eona lifted a brow. She had come to watch the Major burn, but things had taken a turn for the unexpected. It seemed Serra Eona wasn't the only Intel Officer in the sector who could play a Sith, and she certainly took a lesson from this. She also picked up on the much more obvious fact that she was being taken out from under Min's command...and suddenly given a field promotion that made her Min Traebor's equal. Serra took a drag from her cigarra, and smiled. Now this was a monumental occasion, indeed.

Major Traebor remained frozen until the two had departed her office for several moments until she was certain they were truly gone. "Ahhhhh!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, unleashing a primordial scream from deep within her, that her sound dampening doors would not allow the others to hear. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks were flushed red, and her heart was beating against her chest. This was not her fault. She frozen again, both of her hands planted upon her whiskey stained desk, panting like a wild beast. She needed someone to blame, and the more she thought about it there was only one person who she held responsible. She moved to a picture in her office of a city on her home planet, and quickly pulled it down from the wall to reveal a hidden safe. She punched in the code to open the door, causing the door to swing open, and reveal the contents inside ... it was the good stuff. Her hand reached into the safe to pull out a bottle of Corellian whiskey older than she was, and her mouth quickly went to the cap to suck it out. She spit on the floor, no longer having any use for it, before she began to drink directly to the bottle. Already feeling better, she moved like a predator towards her desk, taking her seat and getting more comfortable. Her free hand moved for the remote that caused the wall opposite of the desk to rise, revealing a large monitor. Next, her finger moved to press a button, causing the screen to flicker to life. A few moments later the holorecording of Marcus Rodney's illicit wedding danced upon the screen, it's lights flashing upon her delicate facial features in the darkness. "No. You don't get to be happy," she commented bitterly, before taking a stiff swig of her bottle, and playing the clip over and over and over and over again.

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