Deep Space
The Bird of Prey moved silently through the emptiness of space.
Like a predator.
The Onyxian sun, merely a distant ball of orange glinted in the desolate darkness. What light it gave off this far away glinted off the Bird’s wings, which were emblazoned with the symbol of the Galactic Coalition.
Logan squinted as he looked out into the empty void, trying to keep the light out of his eyes. His cabin was positioned directly over the starboard wing, and his view port was not dimmed very well.
He tried to block out the three different voices coming from behind him. His direct superior, Jan Dondana, was trying to settle a heated argument between a Cren, and an Azgaurd.
Drawa, the Cren, sat back in his chair, “Those funds are needed to create more schools for the children of Farquak! Half the youth populace cannot even read and you Azgaurds want to steal it from us!”
Creole, the Azgaurd, made a hissing noise, “And three cities on Azgaurd rely solely on airdropped water supplies. That money is needed to create dams on the rivers to divert the flow to those poor thirsty citizens.” He said quietly.
Drawa snorted, “Unimportant –“
“Gentlemen…” Dondana interjected.
But Creole shook his head, “I will not sit here and argue with the Cren while those people have to ration their water.”
Drawa glared, “Azgaurds!” He said venomously, “You control everything! Including the entire Coalition. The Cren Alliance has just overthrown our Imperial oppressors and I will not trade one dictator ten thousand lightyears away, for ten thousand dictators one lightyear away!”
But Creole remained calm, not rising to the Cren’s challenge, “Your matters are important. But ours our necessary.”
“Necessary! How dare-“
“Enough. Both of you.” Logan quietly.
Both aliens took notice of Logan’s annoyed tone of voice, looking up at him as he turned from the view port. He stared at the both of them balefully. He hated politicians. Almost as much as he hated being around them.
But he could not help but privately agree with Drawa’s assessment that the Azgaurds were in complete control of the Coalition government, although he would never admit it to anyone else.
“Save it for the summit, will you?” He said simply, not hiding his annoyance.
The Bird of Prey Tomed had been in hyperspace three days now. It had left Azgaurd with Logan, Creole, and Dondana, en route to Farquak – the new allies and members of the Coalition – and had picked up Drawa. Now they were dropping Logan off at Onyx, before heading to Bimmisaari for an economic summit where Drawa and Creole were set to attend.
The Coalition, still building its economy up, was holding the summit to decide where the remainder of the public works budget should go. Most of the money had already been used on other things, and they were allocating the rest of it out. The Cren wanted to establish new learning centers, while the Azgaurds needed it for a variety of public works projects, including the dams.
Creole was about to say something, but stopped, as did Drawa.
“The Coalition is still an infant government, and is still trying to build up its economy and military. We must all have patience with it, as it is still trying to establish its identity. Soon enough, the budget will expand.” Logan said.
Unless the Azgaurds take it first Logan finished the sentence silently.
He was not xenophobic in any sense. But he did harbor an intense distrust for the Azgaurdian race. Ever since Regrad had, without notifying anyone in advance, moved the Coalition capital from Mon Calamari, to Azgaurd, Logan had been suspicious.
He did not trust Regrad in the least, or any of the Azgaurds for that matter.
It looked to him as if they were solidifying their power.
Which is what Palpatine did when he was elected Supreme Chancellor. Logan thought bitterly.
He was a young man when that had happened, barely out of his teens.
It just looked too much like the Azgaurds were making sure no one could oppose them…
At least to him.
Onyx – six hours later
“I am not a politician.” Joren Logan said.
He looked out at the twelve people gathered at the conference table. He was in new Stonia, the new capital of the Onyxian Commonwealth.
A few days earlier, Regrad had granted Logan a consulship over the Onyxian region. Which meant it was a separate government that was run by a council made up of residents of current Onyxian Commonwealth planets. Notable councilors included Iemus, a Cragmoloid chieftain from Ankus, Strota, a human representing Generis, Golgna, a human from Onyx, Shree, a shape shifting Shi’ido from Sh’shuun, and others.
Seven councilors represented actual words. The five remaining members of the council were all from Onyx and served as “temporary council members”. As more planets joined the Commonwealth, they would send representatives to the Council, which would fill the positions of the temps.
Now Logan faced the entire council, “I am not a politician.” He repeated, “I am a soldier and my place is on the battlefield.
He was tired of beating around the bush when it came to these people. For once he just wanted to be blunt.
“I am the leader of the Commonwealth, but I am appointing someone more suited to the…rigors of politicking than myself.” He said, stepping aside.
From behind him, stepped a human man in perhaps his fifties with gray hair.
“This is Dean Doran, the former New Alliance ambassador to the Empire. He served with me back in…” He smiled at Doran, “…the good ‘ol days. He will be taking my place as the head of this council and will confer with me on all decisions.”
No one spoke, all of them apparently agreeing with this unusual twist. Logan nodded satisfactorily as the meeting got under way. Doran stepped up and slid right into his role as the head, pulling a datapad from his bag and immediately taking charge of the meeting.
Logan folded his arms and sat back slightly.
Good
[22:14] RogueLightSider: Omnae should let you know when he knocks you up methinks.
[22:14] LeiaOrganaSolo39: haha he must be really teeny, I didnt feel a thing!