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Cptn Corizon

Rescue?

The busy humming of the holographic display filled Corizon’s ears, drowning out the chatter of the two el-tees on the other side of the Round Table. He tapped a clawed finger on the display controls, bringing up the image he had searched the expansive database of tactical data for, and made a note on his PADD.

“Captain,” came the voice of a junior officer. “We just got word that our reinforcements have completed transit to the wormhole and will be arriving ear...”

Corizon waved him off. He knew how long the trip took. “Thank you.”

When the ensign waited longer than was comfortable for a dismal, Corizon looked back to him. “Was there something else?”

The ensign -- who Corizon remembered as a “Ellias Satherby” -- cleared his throat. “Commander N’Dak is waiting outside for you.”

Enarrain isn’t exactly Commander,” Corizon said, as mildly has he could muster. “Send him in.”

Satherby blushed, but had the good sense to nod and turn heel for the doors. A few minutes later Enarrain Destorie N’Dak entered. Corizon knew his mother, Ambassador N’Kedre rather well, but had yet to fully measure her eldest progeny. What he lacked in stature, he made up for in other ways, Corizon noted. His broad shoulders belied a muscular, intimidating build. And those eyes. Cold, dark and direct. He had certainly not gotten them from his mother.

“Jolan tru,” Destorie said in a measured baritone that caught Corizon off.

“Good morning,” Corizon said, turning back to the holodisplay. “How can I be of assistance?”

Destorie’s baldpate reflected the holographic projection in the darkened room. There was a subtle tension as the two men seemed to be sizing the other up. For his part, Destorie considered the Dameon to be an unpredictable element. His mother had spoken favorably of him, but others within the Camelot command structure had notably hedged on the subject. “Admiral Abronvonvich asked me to inquire if the Senate would be willing to send additional reinforcements.”

“And?” Corizon didn’t look up. He had already guessed the response.

“At this time, the Senate does not feel it would be a prudent use of our resources. The Senate and the Praetor have determined, in mutual consultation with your government to begin a withdrawal of our remaining civilian personnel from the quadrant. Our military presence will continue for the time being.”

Nodding, Corizon continued to flip through his notes. “Thank you. I didn’t anticipate any additional assistance, but we thought it would be worth the try.”

“Ie,” Destorie said, the formality of his tone fading. “I wish that my government would be less... self-interested.”

So maybe there was something of the mother in him? “To be honest, I was surprised that our command was willing to authorize additional reinforcements. The political reality is that pulling out of the quadrant entirely is far more expedient.”

“Ie, which brings me to another matter.”

“Another matter?”

“Ie,” Destorie said, his tone shifting to outright hesitation. “As I said, the Senate has ordered a withdrawal of all of our non-military personnel from the quadrant. Io of our facilities, a small science expedition, is in a rather -- difficult to reach position. Because of our rather limited resources...”

“You need our help in retrieving them?”

Destorie nodded. Corizon was a perceptive one, for sure. “Ie. Normally such a small team -- four or five total personnel -- would be of low priority to the Empire, however...”

“How high ranking is one of the members families?”

Pausing, only for the briefest of moments to note, again, Corizon’s perceptiveness for later, Destorie continued. “Io of the members of the team is the son of a highly placed member of the Senate. My superior officer has personally assured his family that he will be returned, safely to them.”

“So what’s the catch?”

“Hmm?”

“Now now Enarrain,” Corizon said, finally giving Destorie his full attention. “You would have taken this Misha, or simply done it yourself, if there wasn’t something about this mission that was, well complicated.”

Destorie shifted his weight, visibly uncomfortable with the line of questioning. “Na thing so...surreptitious Mister Corizon,” he said, deflecting as best he could. “Only that because their mission is technically classified, I am not at liberty to disclose the location of their facility until after the rescue mission is underway.”

Rescue?”

“Recovery.”

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