The Rebel Faction

The massive bulk of the Super Star Destroyer Sentinel appeared above Vortex with a slight pop. Her Allegiance escorts, coming out on either side, moved swiftly into escort formation.

"Sir! Sir!" Commander Jerek, a rodian who had been charged with commanding Vortex's orbital command station, looked towards the sound and sighed. He did not respond, but instead gave the man a glare and waited for him to approach.

As he did so, the commander glanced at the massive sensor screen on the rear wall. He could see the four new ships, outlined in yellow to signify an unknown allegiance.

The man saluted, and Commander Jerek returned it. Before the man could speak, the commander broke in.
"Ensign. In future, you will approach me formally. You do not simply yell across the bridge at me. Understood?" The ensign nodded meekly, and the rodian commander let him continue.
"Sir, we have four unknown ships on a approach vector." The commander nodded.
"Hail them, ensign." The young man's eyes widened.
"M... me sir?"
"You have a problem with my orders, ensign?"
"No, sir!" The man saluted and ran off to do so.

(Talk to me on AIM)

"Sir, we're recieving a hail." The Supreme Commander turned to the comm officer and nodded.
"I'll take it here," he said, activating his personal com. The ensign nodded and made the required adustments, brining up the face of a young man on Isstal's screen.
"Star Destroyer Sentinel, you have entered Vor space. Please state your intentions." The Supreme Commander knew that the Vor navy, such as it was, could not hurt his ship, but it was never his intention to open hostilities. Looking into the holocam with a slight feeling of disdain, he nodded curtly.
"This is the Star Destroyer Sentinel of the Galactic Defence Initiative. We are here on a peaceful mission, requesting landing for three shuttles and an audience with your governor." He leaned back and let the ensign digest his words.
"One moment, please." The 'pause' symbol appeared in place of the hologram. When it faded, it was only to be replaced by a green-skinned Rodian with a Commander's insgnia on his shoulder.
"Star Destroyer Sentinel," the Rodian said. "I am told you wish to land shuttles and speak with our governor." Isstal let our a soft sigh. Hadn't he told the ensign this mere seconds ago?
"That is correct, Commander." he said werily. "If you could make the proper arrangements it would be much appreciated."
"Yes, I'm sure it would." The Rodian said, looking off-screen for a moment. "All right, Sentinel, you are cleared to land three shuttles at our main spaceport. Preperations for a meeting with the governor will be made tomorrow." The Supreme Commander gave his thanks to the Rodian Commander and signed off. Leaning back in the chair, he smiled and turned to Colonel Ross.
"Why is it that everything takes so damned long?" He got only a polite shrug in return.

The shuttle set with precision not seen since the days of the Galactic Empire, a precision that only hours of training, first in simulators and later in the real thing, could achieve.

Supreme Commander Isstal thanked the pilot, one of the best shuttle pilots in the fleet, and stode the boarding ramp towards the waiting ensamble, a group of Vor and humans, along with a species Isstal did not recognize who seemed to be serving as bodyguards.

As he approached, the Supreme Commander bowed slightly. The Vor, an aide to the governor, Isstal guessed, judging by his posture, returned the bow and nodded to his bodyguards, who retreated a few steps.

"Supreme Commander," the aide said. "You have arrived just in time. We will be holding our annual concert at the Cathedral of Winds in only a few hours. The governor has asked me to direct you there." Isstal nodded, sastified.
"Lead on," The aide nodded and led Isstal towards a waiting landspeeder.

Supreme Commander Isstal leaned back in the chair, overlooking the grand vista of the planet's largest ocean. He smiled and sipped his drink as the sun slipped beyond the horizen, turning the sky a shade of crimson and orange.
Someone who learns to replicate that would make a fortune. He thought.

Isstal had witnessed sunsets of hundreds of worlds, Byss, Alderaan, Coruscant, Ord Mantell, and more than anyone, save maybe one of the many historians that tended to obsess over his exploits, could count.

But rarely had he had the time to truly appreciate the setting sun. Soon he would be back into the general grind of things, trying to win support and bring this world into the Galactic Defence Initiative. But for one short moment, he could sit back and witness one of the galaxy's natural shows.

He sighed and, with a great heaviness, rose. Duty called, and he could hardly afford the time to sit here and gander at a ball of burning gasses.

All the same, it was nice to take a break sometimes. He slid the transparasteel door shut behind him and returned to the demands pressed upon him by the government.

"Glad you could make it, Aron. If we ever get out of here," he glanced towards the Catherdral, "We should be able to convince the govenor to join us. He seems quite... interested in our proposal."

Smiling, the Supreme Commander leaned back and yawned, then said, "I suggest you try to look awake. They get very offended if you fall asleep during their performances."