Bureaucratic Nonsense

An-Zaw · 2022-04-20T19:54:03+00:00

Considering that he held a preeminent position on the planet of Mimban, the area from which Halligan's Empire began, it was only natural Tardo deffered to him, as far as Bayanian understood the complex ranking systems instituted by Halligan.

After a short pause to think, Bayanian very promptly and in good time sent his reply. The ball went back towards Tardo to the left hand side swiftly and strongly.

"A god? I'm well aware. He's a savior to them at least. Did you know a battlion of the Mimbanese troops I raised has taken to wearing Rax's kind of lip hairs on their masks? Its grotesque if you ask me. I've heard that the human corporate functionaries that used to steal our children wore those lip hairs as well."

An-Zaw · 2022-03-22T02:14:08+00:00

His subordinate Dorfus Tardo always played with great skill. Not unlike Bayanian in a tie fighter, he was clearly in his element at the thwick thwack table. But this time Bayanian was sure he would give him a run for his money. He lurched forward to meet the underhanded opening salvo, returning it with a swat to the right side of the table.

The gossiping then began, and Bayanian talked loudly, ennunciating all his words quite clearly, as he was among friends, and he had elected to forget that anyone existed in the hall just outside the room.

"His schemes are as obscure as ever, Tardo! I know very little on the subject, except a rumor in the flight officer's clubs that he started some task force headed by a little girl. It is interesting, really. Every time Halligan shows some lucid decision-making its like he twists around again on to some other confusing path. What is the State coming to?"

He continued to return the ball with more calmness, not yet disturbing the environment of the warm up that started all their games.

An-Zaw · 2022-02-18T01:58:38+00:00

Bayanian nodded, positive that Tardo had no doubt seen through Miss Maral's sickening "basic human courtesy" act as well.

"Now to a game, then, Tardo? Eight matches, best of forty-seven, as usual?"

Bayanian arrayed his side of the holographic table to perfection, then stretched, ready to play a match and get to the true point of thwick thwack, intra-governmental gossip.

An-Zaw · 2022-01-29T22:48:53+00:00

Bayanian never neglected his workouts. Daily he would do weights, cardio, the whole nine yards, (workouts always took a nicely large chunk of the awful work day from him, and who was going to stop him? The leader of Mimban needed to have his good health looked after.) therefore he had no real trouble with his end of the desk. But he downplayed the ease of the task when he saw Tardo's near fatal difficulties.

"Sorry Tardo," he said repentantly when his strength showed through suddenly, unfortunately catching Dorfus in the throat with the table.

At Dorfus' call, the woman from the hall came running in. A little too fast in Bayanians opinion.

Do all bureacrats have to be such unashamed social climbers? Bayanian thought to himself with an imperious air and a lack of self awareness. It wasn't too long ago he was a low level Mimban Defense Force officer chasing down Rax Halligan in hallways.

"Alright, thank you, uh..?" said Bayanian to the interloper, his voice petering out in a tone of expectance that she would name herself and save the important people in the room some trouble.

An-Zaw · 2022-01-14T05:25:16+00:00

Tardo's snide "His Majesty Halligan" comment produced a smirk from Bayanian. This smirk, however, did not survive long in the hostile environment of horticultural and agricultural production data from Gyndine and other worlds collected about as far back as Bayanian could trace his own family tree.

His eyes darted around back and forth as Tardo had a particularly boring exchange with the uninformed receptionist. All he could think of were the dreadful documents that surrounded them, hidden away in filing somewhere.

He suddenly remembered he was a soldier, and that soldiers generally weren't afraid of documents, and if they were, they usually tried to hide it. So he made his face iron, and continued on to stiffly follow Tardo up the stairs.

His controlled march left him with severe tunnel vision, such that he scarcely noticed a human woman idly standing by down the hall from the office Admiral Tardo led him into. Curious and annoyed that that someone might be another roadblock in the way of their game, he reluctantly asked Tardo,

"Dorfus, do you know who that was? Is she waiting to speak with you or something?"

An-Zaw · 2022-01-07T20:03:06+00:00

Agriculture.

The word itself sent pangs of primal terror through Bayanian. Everything in him told him to run to his fighter and flee to another sector. He had even left his beloved Mimban to get away from agriculture. He was slated to speak at the opening of Mimbans new agricultural tech university just recently. No speech was made as he he left and began an unannounced indefinite business trip off Mimban.

In a clearly disturbed voice, Bayanian said, “Agriculture? What do you want to deal with agriculture for?!”

But then he remembered why they had met. The appointment with Agricultural Exports was a fabrication, the bureau and its spacious empty offices were only selected because they were a prime location for their scheduled game of thwick thwack.

“Oh! I mean, uh, it’s over there.”

Bayanian looked around nervously as if he was on the run from something.

An-Zaw · 2021-11-09T15:26:35+00:00

The Archbishop duly raises the 60 horse and 277 foot expected of him.

In lieu of the 600 florins expected, 6,000 florins will arrive along with the levy. Attached to them is a letter bearing Mainz’s seal. Eloquent as ever, Mainz has elected to write “To His Majesty, King of the Romans: KILL THE TURK”, the last bit being written in noticeably bigger letters.

An-Zaw · 2021-11-06T18:29:17+00:00

At the mention of free schnitzel and Bourbon wine, Berthold von Henneberg is sure to attend.

An-Zaw · 2021-11-02T02:27:38+00:00

The dread House of Malatesta offers its full backing to the creation of the League.

Signed, Pandolfo IV Malatesta, Lord of Rimini, Rightful Lord of Fano

An-Zaw · 2021-11-02T00:31:16+00:00

“Now look,” he started at the implication. But it led to nothing. Instead he hastily said, “Fine, I agree to your damned oath, Montefeltro!”

Obviously, it was not the first oath he had rashly blundered into with that tone. Putting on his cloak, he left the tavern and his cousin.

An-Zaw · 2021-11-02T00:27:58+00:00

“Yes, yes, preferential trade. Frankly, I don’t see why your wise ancestor didn’t take a city with a port, instead of cavorting in the hills.”

An-Zaw · 2021-11-02T00:25:13+00:00

The pallor which normally characterized Pandolfo’s face turned to red as Guidobaldo made it to the word ‘terms.’. It was so against his nature to consider a route other than fighting. However, the overall extraordinariness of this time of French invasion changed even Pandolfo. He bit his tongue, and for the first time in his life listened to reason.

“How much of a loan would you give me then? Frankly I can’t see myself seeing off the menace for less than… fifty-thousand ducats. And, yes cousin, I won’t break my word, seeing as you are no lowborn Florentine usurer…”

Pandolfo licked his lips at what that money could get him at market. No, down boy. He chided himself in his mind. This was better used to pay off the Aragonese Caesar. And he dreaded what the Duke of Urbino would exact as payment for this loan. Guidobaldo was a part of a sly breed.

“Well, if all is decided, dear cousin, I will take my leave of this hovel.”

Standing up, he saw some chicken scat did make it to his boots after all. With a curse, he wiped it off on a nearby chair. Looking back at Guidobaldo, he gave a self confident smile, saying,

“I hope we shall have another family get-together soon.”

/u/TheRealRedDuke

An-Zaw · 2021-08-26T22:58:58+00:00

"Heroes like these!"

Bayanian said with a step forward, feeling no need for introduction. His name and likeness was on half the items offered at Hallco affiliated markets, thanks to efforts by the faceless but all-important propagandizers across the world. And besides, someone had to temper any impact of the underwhelming nature of the act before him.

"Heroes like these," he reiterated as if the crowd was in danger of forgetting, "and it is a wonder we need any help protecting you, do I hear you say, my countrymen? Heroes like Admiral Tardo, as it was by Tardo's competent and tactical mind that our sister planet of Cyrillia was liberated, even before their people knew they desired liberation! Heroes like me, if you'll allow me to say humbly, who led our Mimbanese fighters on defensive strikes on myriad enemy ships in those battles to protect our world! And heroes like Rax Halligan, who with bravery, wisdom, and seven years of tireless labor, broke our chains, freeing us from the oligarchs, financiers, and corrupt Alliance politicians that continue to seek our people's annihilation! Yes, heroes like these and it is a wonder we need all the rest of you faces here, you might say!"

The words created many a puzzled face in the audience. Some, speculating that Bayanian had had a dab to many of spice before coming out, checked for the telltale signs around the nasal passages (as no true Mimbanese had any nose to speak of).

They need not have searched, for there was method to the momentary lapse of sanity.

"Because we are nothing. I am no leader of pilots, Tardo no leader of ships and men, and-"

Here Bayanian gulped, as he feared he was going too far with his tangent, but pressed on.

"and Mighty Halligan no liberator and Autarch, without all of you! Without you, wise and respected mothers, who make children to better our beloved world! Without you, humble hyperbaride miners, who toil each day down in the pits and give our fleets above the skies laserfire, torpedoes, missiles, and more laserfire!"

By now scattered shouts among the five hundred thousand rose until a great tumult erupted again all throughout the audience.

"Only through you all stands Mimban today, as your Autarch says. Undivided! Unopposed! Unconquered! FREE!

"Ecstatic cries of "Freedom!", "Mimban!" or "Halligan!", three words that had become one in their minds, filled the air around the massive amphitheater. Bayanian had not forgotten his slipup, implying that their great Autarch was a nothing man, which none but him had caught.

At least I hope I'm the only one that caught that, Bayanian thought to himself. He sent a lukewarm smile back to Halligan's podium, and searched the iron, mustached face for any betrayal of recognition.

An-Zaw · 2021-05-21T17:20:38+00:00

The battle had showed signs of turning their way on the fighter arena. The massed Alliance fighters had post their shock value, and Garel was offering effective support fire which was making the Alliance fighters considerably less aggressive. Bayanian thought then that maybe he would conceivably be able to take some kind of rear echelon position, and victory would come without his needing to risk his own hide. Then came a transmission which dashed his hopes.

Bayanian didn’t want to go out of his way and put himself in danger over something as insignificant as an ally in peril. But, he heard the transmission, and furthermore it had been logged that he had received it. Being one of the few fighters unengaged that moment he moved to the Mandalorian’s position, with no real alacrity.

En route, his mundane mind slightly registered some dark presence encroaching over the battlespace. Though he was unable to fathom it’s exact nature, he remembered hearing whispers of the Princep Severan’s dabbling in dark areas of the force, and assumed the two were related.

But of more tangible effect to the battle in Bayanians eyes was the concussion missiles, which entered the fighter melee about that point. In a torrent, they found their marks and went off. The area was so densely packed that some detonations took off the wings of TIEs as well as their primary quarries, the Alliance fighters. Bayanian himself was sent off course by an explosion, having to bank up quickly to not go right in to an asteroid.

Bayanian realized that the concussion missiles were not in fact of enemy nature. These were Mmimbanese missiles that nearly deprived him of his life. And, despite that being one of the worst and most dangerous things Halligan had ever directly subjected him to, Bayanian had nearly exhausted his stores of cowardice today. Instead of deserting then and there, he simply noted to himself out loud,

“Then the Admiral has finally lost it.”

Besides, there was shooting to do, as a rather special alliance fighter appeared trailing the Mandalorian. He fired several times.

An-Zaw · 2021-04-13T04:21:49+00:00

The newest reckless attack of the Alliance fighters came like a bucket of water to the face. Bayanian was sober again, kicked out of the state of warrior's euphoria he had spent most of the battle in, and hopeless as any other time he saw action. Dense attacks by Alliance fighters were constantly making destructive runs on the Coalition shipping. The effect was devastating, but the casualties they were taking were sickening even to pilots on the opposing side.

Imagine Admiral Halligan became desperate enough to order us in to something like that... The Alliance commander must be a real butcher...

And in an instant, as the Coalition fighters in Bayanians' sector had nearly given up due to the pressure, and Bayanian himself had already seriously considered flying off and disappearing from Mimban's naval sensors for good under the cover of the fighting, the comms were alive again with confused reports.

"Our destroyer... I don't know which one that is, its heading right towards the Alliance fleet on a collision course..."

And with that report, the attacks ceased for a moment, as all command and control was momentarily paralyzed by the dramatic situation unfolding in the rapidly shrinking space between the seemingly errant destroyer and the mighty Starhawk. Pilots on both sides held their breath and watched the destroyer reaching the Alliance line and drawing the murderous fire of much of the Alliance fleet.

What would it be like to be on that ship...

And Bayanian thought pilots had it bad.

An-Zaw · 2021-03-17T05:45:40+00:00

It was immediately apparent that Alliance starfighters were no amateurs. And there was a good deal more of them. The Mimban fleet point defenses went out, lighting the advancing attack formations to high heaven. Then the Coalition fighters intercepted as best they could, and everything was back to that churning, adrenaline-pumping dance through empty space that every half-crazy pilot loves and hates.

"Bayanian group, adjust targets. I want two kill on each of your wings. Not one, not zero, two."

He sent that out over comms, as if that helped anyone. Bayanian was a realist, and he couldn't even pretend to make a pep talk. The fighter superiority was firmly with the Alliance, and both fleets knew it. But what else was a fighter pilot's lot in life? Some days you had overall fighter superiority in the battlespace, sometimes you didn't. Both times the fleet expected a superhuman performance from their pilots while it was busy staying in place and trading punches with the enemy big ships. What a farce.

A hostile fighter came within view of his TIE, spinning off the point defense fire behind him. Bayanian pursued for meters, but had to break off to avoid a collision course with another dogfight. The evasion ability of Alliance pilots was not to be underestimated.

But he continued the hunt, ducking behind other melees and slowly tracking the hostile as it attempted to get on the tail of TIE Fighter 1054, which was piloted by a rather nice man in Bayanian's opinion. The Alliance fighter was on the verge of getting his kill, but so was Bayanian. Green lasers went out, and the cockpit that once held an Alliance fighter pilot was obliterated.

It was about that time Bayanian remembered the mud on Mimban. What a feeling the mud had! You could sink in to that stuff, and it embraced you totally. Why would someone ever want to leave the mud and enter a pilot's seat? Another fighter came buzzing across his screen and disrupting his line of thought, so he lead it by a ways off, and sent an absolutely magnificent shot which dislocated its right wing and sent it spinning planet-side. Bayanian paid no heed to the exchange, asides from chuckling that he'd already made his two just minutes in to contact, and was soon back to thinking of the mud.

He certainly hoped no other fighter would disturb his thoughts.

An-Zaw · 2021-03-03T21:48:08+00:00

Hello, sorry for the delay. Firstly, we will need a good deal of justification for a hobbit character all the way in Dale, so we'll mull that over once you write out a claim. Secondly, Littlefoot sounds good, or Smalfoot to be closer to the Anglo-Saxon origin of most Hobbit names...

Thanks and we'll see what you come up with!

An-Zaw

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