Supply funneling. (Viscera) (open)

[Pierce Tondry]

(ooc) An Intel operation conceived by me. Open to all, especially Intelligence characters.

(ic)

The takeover of Coruscant by the Galactic Military Alliance was over.

The devastation was massive. Construction droids were constantly running to repair the damage that had been done. Supplies were arriving daily to fuel the reconstruction effort.

An Imperial Heavy Transport slowly glided to a major cargo platform on the outskirts of Imperial City. Pierce Tondry gazed up at it, watching.

The ship opened up its' massive cargo bay doors. Exactly thirty seconds later, two columns of troops marched out of the ship in efficient lockstep formation. At their rear marched two squads of red-cloaked Royal guards, and in their center were four elite Royal guards. Pierce could tell because them apart because they wore black armor instead.

With Darth Viscera in a long black robe at their center, they looked a great deal like one of the old TIE/ln fightercraft. ' He goes towards many lengths to imitate Palpatine. He's not far off, either- I think I've seen Palpy do the same thing at least twice.'

Pierce began walking towards the troop column. He'd just killed one of the more officious gate guards who refused to let him through despite proper identification. Brainwashed loyalty to Viscera's protection no doubt, and it irked him.

No doubt Viscera would have been informed of the incident. It remained to be seen how he would handle the news.

There was, on the other hand, a reason for Pierce to be there. Several things needed discussing with the new overlord of Coruscant. The most efficient way to accomplish it was to have a chat with the Diktat, and Pierce was all about efficiency.

The leading officers in the troop columns caught sight of him. They waved hand signals to the columns, indicating a full stop.

"Identify yourself," the officer on the right shouted. "Give up any weapons you have and prepare to be taken into custody."

"My name is Pierce Tondry," Pierce called out. "General and Vice-Director of Imperial Intelligence. And I'll be damned if I give up my weapons."

"You wil-"

"Don't you give me more mindless drivel, boy!" he continued. Although there was no emotion in his mind, there was enough commanding force behind the words that Pierce knew he would get the desired response- silence. "I'm here to see the Diktat, and I've had enough obstacles thrown in my way to put me in a bad mood!"

The officer on the right faltered, but the officer on the left took up the slack. "Intelligence is not a part of the GMA! Who gave you clearance to approach this vessel?"

Pierce lifted his sniper rifle with one hand. "This is my clearance," he shouted. "And I can put a blaster bolt right on the drop of snot hanging from your nose if I want to."

The officer in question hastily wiped his face and it came away slimy. The two of them looked at each other in confusion. "Just get me the Diktat, dammit!" Pierce ground out.

[Darth Viscera]

"I'm certain that threats won't be necessary, General."
The voice came from behind Pierce, not from the duplicate standing vulnerably among Imperial troops and guards stationed a few hundred yards away.

"What can I do for you?"

[Pierce Tondry]

"Get me a red-line frequency, for starters," Pierce growled. He didn't turn around- chances were Viscera wasn't behind him either, but still aboard the ship. "Having to fight my way through all the stumbling blocks you have in place is tedious."

Pierce lifted his rifle and slid it neatly into its holster on his backpack. "But other than that, I need to talk to you. Privately, more or less."

[Darth Viscera]

Viscera thought on that for a while. Finally, he was through.

"You will be given the necessary clearance. Would you prefer the Imperial palace, or my own residence for this private conference?"

Thumbing a commlink on, Viscera hailed a newly emptied Chariot LAV. The command speeder rumbled to a halt, its hatch folding open.

[Pierce Tondry]

"Whichever's more secure," Pierce shrugged. "I have various pieces of information that shouldn't really be said aloud."

He turned around, spotting the LAV as well as Viscera's actual self. Or else it was some kind of doppleganger projection. Pierce climbed into the combat vehicle. "And of course, if there's anything you want to tell me of, it would be nicely confined there."

[Darth Viscera]

"The palace, then," Viscera replied. And the speeder shot off.

Five minutes later, Viscera emerged in the uppermost chamber of the Imperial palace. The room was mostly dark, save for the half illuminated by windows which peered out into the Imperial Center night. Millions of speeders shot by in their unimaginably long traffic lines, a tribute to unabated Imperial capitalism.

Viscera took his seat in a command chair which might have been removed from the bridge of a Star Destroyer, and gestured to the General to take a similar seat across from him.

A message was sent through the force to the two elite guards near the turbolift, and they left the room.

[Pierce Tondry]

Pierce sat and focussed his attention on the Diktat. "We need to work out a few details about our mutual running of things. I have facilities here, and you have military bases. I am the closest thing this planet has to an underlord, and you are the overlord."

The Vice-Director leaned forward in the chair. "So the big question is, who runs what parts of the planet and how can we support each other without creating friction?"

[Darth Viscera]

"I'll supply you, you keep the underworld full of law-abiding model Imperial citizens. You get to keep your intelligence base in the Imperial capital."

[Pierce Tondry]

Pierce's eyes narrowed. "That's a pretty big job," he remarked. "Exactly what kind of supplies are we talking about?"

[Darth Viscera]

Viscera narrowed his eyes correspondingly. "That depends on what supplies you ask for. What do you need?"

[Pierce Tondry]

Pierce pulled a datapad from one of his pockets and brought up a certain file. It contained a list of monies and supplies Intelligence could use.

It wasn't that Intelligence was badly in need of money- quite the contrary. Intelligence had finally become monetarily self-sufficient, with all its' day-to-day running costs paid for with a slight budget surplus at the end of each month.

The problem was that slight budget surpluses didn't automatically translate themselves to massive capital or equipment gains, or to facilities that helped finish Intelligence's numerous secret projects.

What he was asking for was nothing less than one billion credits, a heavy transport full of raw materials, and a massive eight-ton donation of military equipment.

Pierce handed the list to Viscera. "Our wish list," he announced.

[Darth Viscera]

Viscera looked the datapad over, and raised an eyebrow.
"I'm certain that you're aware of the risks involved with these sorts of deals. You might eventually become reliant on our aid. I can provide it, of course, but are you certain you'd like to accept it? You would be responsible for maintaining the New Order wherever you make use of our supplies."

[Pierce Tondry]

Pierce's eyes narrowed. "I tell you what," he said. "You bring an extra Star Galleon full of raw materials with your next supply convoy. We'll price that and work from there. That sound good to you?"

[Darth Viscera]

Viscera nodded, punching a few numbers into his datapad.
"I look forward to reading your report, General. You are dismissed."