Luke Skywalker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
faithfulson) wrote2021-05-17 08:37 pm
faithfulson) wrote2021-05-17 08:37 pm
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PSL: Krennec and the Imperial Prince
There were certain expectations one would expect from someone that claimed to be Darth Vader's son. There was a certain cruelty that was implied, considering Vader was the most brutal, most exacting leader in the Empire. An air of indifference was also expected, though that was largely because Vader's suit set him apart from everyone in the real world. Considering a child of his would also have a royal title of some kind, the vestments such a child would be expected to wear would likely mirror such a separation. Lastly, and likely most importantly, was height; Vader was a pillar of power that towered over literally everyone in the Empire.
Luke Skywalker was none of these things.
He arrived on the DS-1 Orbital Battle Station in the exact time he said he would arrive, in only a standard Imperial Lambda-class shuttle with no markings. There was no pilot other than himself, and only a single stormtrooper served as his escort (and that was entirely because if Luke ever went anywhere without telling Kreel, he would never hear the end of it). He was wearing the most plane black outfit imaginable, with no insignia in sight, and the only "fanciness" being a plane half cloak that concealed his left side and ended around his knees. Most of all, he was woefully short and so very, very young, barely into his teenage years.
Luke paused at the end of the shuttle ramp, glancing around the completed docking bay he had been directed to land in. His father had done little to conceal his distaste for the battle station, and considering the sight of it on his approach, he couldn't help but agree with him. It was clear it's only purpose was to serve as a deterrent, instilling fear in the masses that if they so much twitched out of line, the Emperor would be more than happy to eliminate them.
It was entirely exhausting to imagine and irritating in its waste of resources.
He finally turned his focus to the Director waiting for him, blue eyes training on him like he was looking through him. Of course he had read up on Krennec's file while he was enroute, and also took his father's words into account (a "small man" and a "petty careerist", among other less than kind descriptions). He had a feeling he knew what to expect at this point, especially once he saw it was just Krennec there waiting for him.
"Director," he began, approaching him and stopping within arms reach, looking up at him, "thank you for honoring my request, and not announcing my arrival with a ceremony. The work here is already behind; I would not have wanted to pull your staff away needlessly."
Luke Skywalker was none of these things.
He arrived on the DS-1 Orbital Battle Station in the exact time he said he would arrive, in only a standard Imperial Lambda-class shuttle with no markings. There was no pilot other than himself, and only a single stormtrooper served as his escort (and that was entirely because if Luke ever went anywhere without telling Kreel, he would never hear the end of it). He was wearing the most plane black outfit imaginable, with no insignia in sight, and the only "fanciness" being a plane half cloak that concealed his left side and ended around his knees. Most of all, he was woefully short and so very, very young, barely into his teenage years.
Luke paused at the end of the shuttle ramp, glancing around the completed docking bay he had been directed to land in. His father had done little to conceal his distaste for the battle station, and considering the sight of it on his approach, he couldn't help but agree with him. It was clear it's only purpose was to serve as a deterrent, instilling fear in the masses that if they so much twitched out of line, the Emperor would be more than happy to eliminate them.
It was entirely exhausting to imagine and irritating in its waste of resources.
He finally turned his focus to the Director waiting for him, blue eyes training on him like he was looking through him. Of course he had read up on Krennec's file while he was enroute, and also took his father's words into account (a "small man" and a "petty careerist", among other less than kind descriptions). He had a feeling he knew what to expect at this point, especially once he saw it was just Krennec there waiting for him.
"Director," he began, approaching him and stopping within arms reach, looking up at him, "thank you for honoring my request, and not announcing my arrival with a ceremony. The work here is already behind; I would not have wanted to pull your staff away needlessly."
no subject
"You won't stand for anything if either of us find that you've been shifting material shipments to places they are not meant to go," he stated plainly, the threat clear in the tone of his voice. He folded his arms over his chest, a tiny imitation of his father, but enough to let his cloak slip, the faint glint of a lightsaber at his hip clearly seen.
no subject
"There may have been sooooome of the old Republic who came recently," he finally confessed. "We do not like them, we do not ssssttay where they come."
But Krennic doesn't look convinced in the least- when it comes to the Geonsians money talked more than any loyalty to politics, an Empire, or a fallen Republic. "Is that so? How fascinating I learn this now."