RP SETUP. Please do not respond until it says GO.
Wylly slapped the data chip on the console on his desk. He turned and gazed out the window at the bustling town outside his office window. It had been long months since Misty died, and Wylly was never sure he had a clue what she wanted for these people. Besides an identity for themselves.
She just had to make herself a freaking queen!
Now she was dead and the institution had taken root. Wylly had no pretenses about ever being considered royalty anywhere. He had made the Atraken people choose from their senior council, with plenty of clear language about who was controlling the future of Atraken B. That being Red Fambaa. Nearly every asset of value on the swampy moon belonged to the faction. All the money that fueled the slow, relentless growth came from Red Fambaa. The faction would call nearly all the shots here for generations to come. Wylly didn't need a crown on his head for that.
The problem now was that not everyone was heady with the sweet sound of having their own voice in the government of their world. There was the older, less open-minded of the religious side of the people's culture. A few had serious misgivings about Fukara's divinity. A handful were downright belligerent about it, calling Fambaa a heresy. Wylyy knew that one or two fo them could become real trouble. Religion was nothing to toy with, despite his general disdain for it to begin with.
And then there were the Selkath. The fish people had been here well over a thousand years themselves. They had a much claim to the future as anyone else. The Selkath had never bough into the mystique of Misty and her divine right to rule. They sided firmly with the Old Councilors that Fambaa had no right to rule at all. It didn't help either cause that the humans on the moon had quickly mover to limit Selkath power in forming the new government. Had it not been for Wylly and Red Fambaa, the Selkath might have been shutout completely. The poor fish had to bite both hands that fed them.
But they seemed determined to do so.
The latest list of incidents was typical of most. A cargo load stolen and the truck damaged, a cleanup crew near the open swamp attacked for no good reason, forays against food stocks, damage to a power plant. The usual.
Except for the shape charge found at one of the shield generators. That one was different.
The swamps were a big problem. The Selkath and Atraken rebels alike hung out in those murky wetlands. They had lived on a nearly untouched swampland for millennia. It was home for them. They don't care about shields. In fact, they would probably be happy if the things were gone. But that is a long way from targeting one of the most important and protected facilities on the small planetoid know as AB. The only way a shield generator was worth the risk-- of flat out failure, as much as getting caught-- was if you were expecting something from the outside to get through. Or someone.
Or a lot of someones and somethings. Yeow mon!
AB had been a small-change hangout for local, marginally successful, bandit and pirating clans over the last centuries. Not all of them had done as badly by the people as others. That's why so many were in the swamps these days, and why they were armed better. They had been trapped and were making themselves useful alliances with the rebels. And the Selkath were the real key in that regard as well.
Well, Kharr will take care of that. Wylly knew it was true as he thought it. Kharr, now Major Kharr Sewick, would handle bandits and the streets. He was capable, that one. Wylly was proud as an uncle to formally award him the new commission. To promote a Cathar, whom had earned it so thoroughly, was a mixed bag of emotions for Wylly.
The Corellian armor in Fambaa colors was icing on the kuloolo.
Kharr would take care of the bandits. He understood Wylly's own commitment to take care of the people of AB. They were the reason for Red Fambaa. They were Fukara Mist's last instructions. "Take care of the people," she had told him specifically.