Open RP

[mismanagement]

Hit me.

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[mismanagement]

Harper snorted. "Of course you will."

The dead man was probably still on the floor.

Oh well. Someone would clean it up eventually. Much like Tarkin's office.

Harper didn't envy them the task. Though he supposed he'd have to find something appropriate to kill and leave on Krennic's doorstep. Something that would make a point and possibly stain the floor. It would be an amusing distraction on what was proving to be an annoyingly quiet mission.

[vergeofgreatness]

Krennic wasn't going to bother sending a cleaning droid in. If the governor wanted his office cleaned then he would have to arrange it himself.

"Well, this evening has certainly proven to be interesting, to say the least." He hadn't expected any of this when he had walked into his office to find the Mandalorian there but he would have to thank Maketh for her little plot.

[mismanagement]

Interesting was one word for it. Harper ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Remember our agreement, Imperial. As enjoyable as I find you, your kind has no honor and must be reminded of your promises."

He turned his head slightly, smiling.

"If you must betray me, then you'd best do it well."

[vergeofgreatness]

"Our goals are the same on this matter," Krennic pointed out as he sat up. He could disgrace Maketh and make Tarkin's life worse at the same time. It worked for him.

But that didn't mean that he wouldn't betray him in the future. He had his own goals to accomplish and Galen and the Death Star were the most important.

"Duly noted," he smirked with amusement. He always made sure to plan his revenge well.

[mismanagement]

Harper bared his teeth in silent laughter. Their goals might align temporarily, but that was hardly the same thing. Not that it really mattered. They understood each other. That was a rare thing in their line of work. "I must return to my men. They grow bored without supervision."

And bored Mandalorians tended to cause a great deal of property damage.

[vergeofgreatness]

"Of course." Bored Mandalorians rarely turned out well. He got out of bed to look for his pants and shirt, the rest of his clothes were in Tarkin's office. He would stop by to grab them before heading to his room.

He glanced at the mess they had made on Tarkin's bed, pleased with himself. The grand moff would have a lovely surprise to come back to.

[mismanagement]

In retrospect, there had been warnings that the plan hadn't been going quite as smoothly as expected. The fact that her mother had only mentioned Harper during her rare, drunken spats. The sheer amount of credits included in his bounty. The fact that he'd allegedly stolen an Imperial TIE fighter and left the pilot stripped naked in the nearest cantina--- and on Coruscant, of all damn places.

Oh, and that his soldiers had mangled a grand total of nine of storm troopers in the name of combat readiness. Five were dead. The others might survive by the grace of bacta gel and sheer dumb luck. And now there was a commotion down in the training grounds that she'd only just resolved - temporarily - without anyone dropping more bodies.

Damn it all.

Harper - the smiling bastard - hardly seemed concerned. The rebels had gone to ground. And Krennic's ambitions were running unchecked.

Something had changed. Harper's allegiances, mainly.

Worryingly, it occurred to Maketh that she didn't know her uncle that well. Her mother had yelled about him on occasion.

That should have been a warning.

She marched over to his quarters with a fury on her mind, enough that even the Death Troopers seemed surprised by it, and a bloody Mandalorian helmet in her hand.

Her uniform was scorched and smelled of whiskey where someone had upended a glass on her.

"Krennic! Do you know what you've done!?"

[vergeofgreatness]

Lothal was chaos. While the rebels, Mandalorians, and stormtroopers clashed on the streets, Krennic was free to take the day to see another shipment of kyber crystals off the planet.

He wasn't concerned by the fighting, he had encouraged some of his connections outside of Imperial circles to assist the rebels. Harper proved helpful which Krennic appreciated. This would take out both Maketh and Tarkin down neatly.

He wasn't using Tarkin's office anymore, the cleaning droids were still in there so he had set up in his own quarters, sitting at the desk when she stormed in.

"Apparently not enough from the sound of things. I clearly have been remiss about trusting you to oversee things and make arrangements on your own. And Coruscant isn't pleased with Governor Tarkin's judgment with leaving affairs to you. There will be some drastic changes that will be made."

[mismanagement]

For her part, Maketh had studiously decided to avoid thinking about her own fate for as long as possible. She was a good, loyal officer with complete faith in the Empire's glorious mission. That would be taken into consideration. It had to be. She was a good officer.

She was also staring down the barrel end of disaster and knew it. The least she could do was make sure Krennic suffered for it well.

She tossed the helmet onto his desk. There were still some bits of skull and brain matter rolling around inside.

"I know you do not care for the glory of the Empire unless it is somehow your own," Maketh hissed, eyes wide and furious. "So I will say this in terms you can understand. My uncle's men have been dueling each other and killed several of your men in the process. Including one of your precious engineers. Apparently he got one of my uncle's soldiers pregnant. They deemed him unworthy."

She put her hands on her hips.

"And now they're dueling for the honor of claiming the child's name. It's all very traditional. Whatever you gave my uncle, it is going to cost you more than credits."

[vergeofgreatness]

"As I recall it was you who invited the Mandalorians here. This is your responsibility to take care of but since you seem unable to do so, I will be taking care of it for you. I haven't decided what to do with you, the Vizier has given me the discretion to go over Governor Tarkin in this matter since we have lost an engineer and several troopers," he said calmly but his lips twitched upward.

"Your uncle has given me nothing. You have done this yourself, Minister, you have no one to blame but yourself."

[mismanagement]

"I am a loyal officer of the Imperial Court!"

All she wanted to do was cave his skull in with her bare hands. She wanted that so desperately she could already imagine what it would feel like. The shards of bone cutting into her hands. The pulp of brain matter and hot blood.

Stop that. Focus.

Maketh drew herself up, fists clenched. "I have always acted in the best interests of the Empire. That ought to be understood."

Apparently she had been too subtle in her machinations. It was past time for an assassination attempt.

[vergeofgreatness]

"Then I suggest you act like it and handle the situation you created," Krennic remarked cooly. Maketh had provided him with everything he had needed to destroy her and Tarkin at the same time.

It was almost too good to be true.

"I do not doubt your loyalty, only your judgment. And, of course, Governor Tarkin's. The Vizier agrees and the decision has already been made. You will be demoted but retain your title of Minister. We simply cannot have you causing situations like this in the future."

[mismanagement]

Handle the situation you created. As if he hadn't stuck his nose where it didn't belong in the first place. Maketh shivered just once, then smiled. It was her officer-smile. The one she wore when she knew with bone deep certainty that lives were at stake and her actions would seal their fate. Today it was her life hanging over the edge. Krennic had already ordered her officers dead. Her gamble had been too ambitious; she'd made a mistake. By right, the Empire could still kill her for that failure.

This was a chance for redemption, Maketh realized suddenly. She could prove her devotion still.

"I understand perfectly," she hissed, though the smile threatened to split her face. Her eyes were full of rage. "The judgement of our Emperor is swift and just. May we serve his interests with all our strength."

[vergeofgreatness]

"Good, I'm glad. I trust you'll be able to handle the Mandalorians since they are your guests," Krennic said as he turned his attention back to the screen. He could still feel the marks Harper had left on him and lingering soreness, it made him smirk as he glanced over at her again.

"I trust this won't be too much trouble. You do want a chance to redeem yourself, don't you?"

[mismanagement]

Krennic was entirely too smug not to have had a hand in this. Though Maketh dearly wished she could kill him herself - preferably with a rock - she decided then it would have to be quiet. Something the rebels could be blamed on.

First, she had to deal with her uncle.

"I serve the Emperor's will," Maketh snapped, a touch too loud. "In all ways. As do we all."

Or they should have.

"I believe our positions have been clarified," she said, a little calmer. "Is that not so, Commander?"

[vergeofgreatness]

"I am glad we have clarified that, Minister. If there is anything I can do to assist you, please don't hesitate to ask," Krennic offered as he turned his attention back to the screen. He was sure that she would be plotting something, he doubted that she would be dealt with so easily.

Even now he knew that she could at least be used in Tarkin's revenge. The grand moff was supposedly cutting his operation short and hoping to return to Lothal so he had to be prepared.

[mismanagement]

It was tempting to just smash Krennic's stupid head in with his own data pad, but Maketh - unlike some people - knew her place. Hers was not to stamp her feet and get what she wanted by force. No, hers was to wait patiently and pounce at the opportune moment.

She gritted her teeth and made herself smile.

"Of course, sir."

She was going to kill him. Slowly.

[vergeofgreatness]

"I'm glad we understand each other. I did want to say, off the record, that I've at least enjoyed your uncle's company," he remarkd as he looked bad at his datapad. "Give him my regards, Minister.

Is there anything else you need?"

Only then did he glance up, amused. He was hoping that she would be angry to try to try something, he would enjoy using that against her.

[mismanagement]

Wait. Maketh narrowed her eyes.

"So he did come to see you."

[vergeofgreatness]

"Yes, he did, in fact." The bruises on his neck were a nice reminder of that, especially when his collar rubbed against them.

"I know what you expected when you invited him and the other Mandalorians here, Minister."

[mismanagement]

Maketh frowned, not bothering to hide it. Obviously they'd come to an agreement on something. She didn't know what Krennic had that Harper could possibly want, though. Credits? Perhaps access to some weapon the Empire was developing. "Really. Do enlighten me, Commander."

[vergeofgreatness]

"Now that, perhaps, you should as your uncle about." He was sure Harper would have quite the story to tell. However, the details of their deal would remain between them for now but he was sure that Maketh could guess as to the gist of their discussion.

[mismanagement]

Smug bastard. Maketh smiled until it hurt her face. "Then I shall. Commander."

[vergeofgreatness]

That smile meant his comment had to have struck some nerve.

"Is there anything else, Minister?" He would play along and enjoy watch what happened with her uncle. And it would be interesting to see how she would come back at him.

[mismanagement]

"No, I believe we understand each other," Maketh said through clenched teeth.

Oh, she was going to murder him and mutilate his corpse.

**

A few hours later, one of Tarkin's subordinates delivered some security tapes to Minister Tua.

It took a good ten minutes for the yelling to stop. Apparently, the junior officers whispered, the Minister had thrown a chair at a Death Trooper. Apparently he'd decided it was safer not to dodge.

The minister then spent a good amount of time yelling at anyone who wandered into her line of sight and cursing both Commander Krennic and her uncle.

**

For his part, Harper was thoroughly enjoying his stay on Lothal. Even though the rebels had decided it was safer to go to ground and risk a few civilian deaths rather than facing the combined wrath of the Empire and Harper's soldiers, guessing - correctly - that eventually someone would run out of patience or credits and something would have to give. But while that half of Maketh's plan might have failed, she had allowed Harper's soldiers to train some of her storm troopers.

Currently the death toll was holding steady at five. The ones who'd managed to keep up showed some promise, once they stopped crying. A few might even become decent warriors and the rest would be sufficient entertainment.

All and all, the venture wasn't entirely wasted.

At the moment, Harper was sitting by the fire and playing cards with his second in command. Ossor was terrible at it, but he made up for his failure with cards by knowing everything worth hearing. Currently he was filling Harper in on the camp gossip.

Xo, one of his lieutenants, had gotten herself pregnant. She was quite pleased with this turn of events, even though the man she'd chosen to father the child had been proven ill-suited to the task and subsequently been shot and buried in the desert by another warrior who also wanted the honor of raising a heir to Mandalore. There had been some fighting to establish exactly who would stand at Xo's side for the task and it had maimed more men than Harper normally cared for. But a child was cause for celebration regardless of parentage, and Harper knew the importance of ceremony and tradition. Such things had to be recognized properly. Currently they were all drinking to the honor of Xo and her coming child, as well as the fighting to come. Most of his men were drunk or brawling and the rest were either asleep or off causing trouble in the city. So long as they didn't forget their honor, Harper didn't much care what they did. No doubt a few more would come to him and argue to take either a lover or adopted child along with the battalion before the engagement was up. If their cause was strong, Harper would indulge them.

After all, few souls would ever live honorable lives on Lothal. It was for the best to take them away if they were willing.

Only the willing, though. Slaves bore weak children and made worse fighters, and thus were forbidden.

A burst of static crackled in Ossor's headpiece. He frowned, then set his cards down. "Your man is here."

Harper raised an eyebrow. "Really. All the way out here?"

He'd taken his soldiers out of Lothal and into the desert, where they could be loud without frightening the locals. It was cold and stark and reminded him of better times. The sky was clear and full of stars. His men were drunk and laughing.

Ossor stood, pulling his helmet on. "He brought Death Troopers. Shall we kill them?"

"No," Harper murmured, considering his cards. "Well, certainly not all of them. That would be rude. He came out all this way. Give them something to drink. If they refuse our hospitality, then remind them of our customs."

"And your man?"

Harper bared his teeth. "Now, now. He's hardly mine. Let the commander in. I'm sure he wants something."