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Fran Ulgo's Apartment
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Fran Ulgo
Moff


Joined: 24 Jul 2009
Posts: 7

 Post Posted: Mon, September 07th 2009 02:05am    Post subject: Fran Ulgo's Apartment
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Fran Ulgo groaned as she sank into the chair in her apartment's living room. New Year's karking Day... and all she heard about was the pathetic peace treaty with the Imperial butchers. And how wonderful and nice the "allies" of the last decade were.

Her fists clenched at the idea of letting the Imperial murderers continue to exist. Two billion died on Alderaan because of them, and every Imperial bore that bloodstain. And they always would... and as for Byss, the destruction of a meager twenty billion bucketheads by Organa Solo's astromech didn't pay for one thousandth of one percent of the Alderaanians slaughtered. Maybe if a few more Bysses had gone up...

Ulgo sighed, and opened a drawer on a side table. Her guilty pleasure... an easy way to deal with her frustrations and stresses of being the supreme commander of the New Republic's forces. The simple folding case, with Sullust leather panels and silver framing. It split neatly down the middle, revealing two neatly stacked rows of paper tubes. Shredded leaves of Thyferran tabac filled each one; the Alderaanian found carababba tabac far too pungent for her tastes. She supposed it was better than other vices, such as alcohol, spice, or fast men. Neither her liver nor brain would be turned into Bakuran cheese, and the Thyferran leaves produced far fewer dangerous compounds than other forms while still giving her a nice, relaxing buzz. Granted, it wasn't the best of habits, but it wasn't the worst.

As for hunting down companionship... ever since her father had fallen to Daala's butchers, she'd been effectively married to the New Republic. Body and soul, heart and mind. She would do anything necessary to protect the Republic, including laying down her own life. And in return, the Republic had provided her with home, comradeship, and of course, a position of power. But the power was truly secondary to her... more a nice perk than an overriding ambition. After all, she certainly wasn't a buckethead.

Smoking would be too hard through those ridiculous masks, she mused as she put the cigarra in her mouth and lit the end with her prized, electrum-plated lighter. An Alderaanian survivor, like her. A nice, long drag pulled the smoke down her throat and into her lungs. She let it linger a while, the narcotic compounds soaking into her bloodstream. She felt her tensions and angst start to fade, and blew them out along with a stream of blue-gray vapor. As the smoke formation dissipated, her eyes fell on the slowly-rotating model of Alderaan on her shelf. Home... before Tarkin, Vader, and Motti reduced it to an asteroid field. Her memories of the first four years of her life on her homeworld were few, but those she could recall she latched on to as a drowning person grabs at a flotation device. She reflected with some remorse that she was probably one of the last Alderaanians to have a memory of home: those younger than her wouldn't have anything to remember, and those older—such as former Chief of State Organa Solo—would be in their grave long before Fran.

And even then, those last few Alderaanians couldn't be more than four years younger than her... meaning after they passed on, there simply would be no one left from the fair world of Alderaan. It would be a mention in a history text, perhaps some holorecords and data tapes. But those who had breathed the air, felt the cool grass underfoot, watched the star Alderaan rise over the planet's mountains and hills... they would all be gone.

Ulgo frowned at the dim direction her thoughts were going, and took another deep drag on the burning plant matter to soothe her nerves. The exhalation brought another modicum of peace, as if all of her worries and troubles were carried upon the smoke particles. Besides, she couldn't afford to relax for too long. She had several reports to review before she could write her own for Chief of State Valure. Whether or not he actually read them or gave a damn at all, she couldn't say. Still, he said all the right things in his campaign, and she'd supported him. But now, she would occasionally find herself doubting.

Dammit! Why can't I just relax!!!, she grumbled silently as she lit another cigarra and tossed the spent butt of her first one into a crystalline tray. Because there's just too much work to do to lie around and muse, she answered herself. With resignation, and the newly lit paper tube firmly in her mouth, Ulgo decided to mix business with pleasure... just this once. Picking up a datapad, and blowing a wreath of smoke around its screen, she began to read through the reports.

It didn't really help.
_________________
Commander in Chief Francine Oké Ulgo


Last edited by on Sat, June 05th 2010 12:41am; edited 1 time in total
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