Royal Lamentations

Cregen stared out at the beautiful expanse below him and grimaced. This veranda boasted one of the finest views in the palace but he didn't have the stomach to enjoy it. Korhall Palace was the tallest structure in the city, a large pyramid which overlooked the capital city of Cassander. Anyone else would be awestruck with the majesty of the view but it couldn't interest Baron Cregen Hawke any more than his meal did. The plate of exotic fruits and meat lay untouched in front of him, he rarely had an appetite anymore and would only eat out of necessity. Most of his days were spent in quiet and frustrated contemplation. One of the servants moved forward hesitantly, eyes lowered.
"Baron Hawke, would you like us to clear the table," he asked. Cregan shot an angry glare at the servant who stumbled back at the baleful gaze and then he grunted.
"Do it," he said and stood up, pacing towards the ledge. He learned on the railing and looked down at his cybernetic arm. Unlike others who had chosen to cover their cybernetic limbs in synth-flesh he had left it uncovered, as a reminder of his past failure. A sound behind him caused him to turn his head and he saw one of the servants slide a datapad onto the railing beside him before she scurried away. He stared down at the screen.

The datapad on the table still had the message open from a few days prior. It was the message which posted his peer, Calman Tavers, to the ISD Pursuer under Captain Amon Connors. It was well known that Connors had fallen out of favour but the CAG position for Tavers was a distinct honour. Both Hawke and Tavers had flown in the 181st under the famous Baron Soontir Fel. As Cregan was Cassandran Royalty himself, the others at the academy often referred to him as the "Little Baron". He bore the name with pride as many could see his prowess in the cockpit and tenacity as an officer. He was on the rise and had been promised that tour aboard the Pursuer. That was to be his first real command and an opportunity which would open a world of possibilities and opportunities. All of that was gone now. His eyes fell to his cybernetic leg beneath him and he tightened his grip on the railing. He had been so close to success but then lost it all in a single moment. He had thought about that day nearly every waking moment. Running the scenario through his mind again and again to see what he could have done better. He wasn't even supposed to be in the area at the time. A mechanical snag had him and his flight grounded at the Kessel QRF facility for a few days. When he got word of the escape, he had leaped at the opportunity to crush the rebellion. Little did it know that the Rebels had sent a Squadron of their own ships. It had been going so well. He personally had taken out two of the A-Wings and one X-Wing with ease. He even scored a hit on the X-Wing pilot's ejection seat as it jettisoned and saw it explode in a brilliant display of light. Unfortunately the asteroid field proved to be quite difficult to navigate. That and a series of lucky hits from the YT-1200 Freighter had sent him careening into a heavier part of the field. He had ejected but his body was shredded by the debris and micro-asteroids which he had drifted into. The small rocks were like razor blades and they had cut him up like a Nikto ack-hound. He had blacked out in space, watching his blood bubble in nebulous globules in front of him. At the time, he had accepted his death. He had fallen in combat and there had been a semblance of honour in that. Weeks later though, he awoke in an Imperial Medical Facility a few sectors away. It appeared as though the Empire didn't want their Cassandran Royal to die an honorable death and instead had rebuilt him. It had been a 16-hour operation with over forty different cybernetic parts and upgrades integrated into him. If he could do it all again, he would just have rather had them put a blaster hole in his head. He was more machine than man now and left with the memory of his failure at the hands of impudent Rebels.

The next few months he spent researching. He had taken a leave of absence from the Imperial Navy and devoted significant time and credits into finding out the identities of his attackers. It wasn't until he got the Mission Report from an Imperial attack on a Hutt Cartel member on Ord Canfre, a vassal planet to the Cassandran Royalty, did he determine their identities. Bren Novar, Malcolm Starfall, Dia Suvan, and Sora Lark. They had been responsible for his failure and he would make them pay. Unfortunately he was robbed of the opportunity of killing them all personally. Lark had died in the attack on the Sail Barge and then Novar and Starfall had disappeared. It had been nearly a month since he had last heard anything and he was beginning to grow restless. He knew they were out there, somewhere, and so long as they lived they remained an insult to his honor.

Footsteps sounded behind him. He didn't turn to face the sound but he recognized the ordered footsteps of his personal Chandler, Marr Tilleon.
"My Lord," Marr said in a thick Cassandran accent. Hawke didn't turn to look at the man but muttered over his shoulder.
"Leave me be Marr. I don't care for any other audience for the courtiers".
"I understand my Lord but this isn't court business I'm afraid. We've received more information on your recent interests," he said with clear disdain in the words. Marr hadn't supported this vendetta and cascading cycle of vengeance the Cregan had fallen in to. Marr had been the Hawke's family chandler for 2 generations now and took his craft seriously. It was his opinion that this wasn't in the best interest of the Royal line or for Hawke himself. Cregan turned to face the man, eyes narrowed.
"Are we certain this time. I don't want to chase a lead across the galaxy like last time only to find the wreckage of Rebel Frigate. I need to find them Marr," he said skeptically. Marr nodded politely but Cregan could see him frowning.
"I believe this is more concrete Sir. They have been found on Hosnian Prime my Lord. It appears as if they stirred up quite a bit of trouble and are trying to get off planet. Admiral Elnen had been ordered to lock down the planet and capture or destroy them as they move to escape," he replied. Cregan stepped forward and grasped Marr by the shoulders. The Chandler looked up at him, face hard, but it softened slightly after studying Cregan's features. Cregan held the man for a second and then pulled him into an embrace.
"Thank you old friend. I know you don't support this vendetta but I need to do this," he said quietly. There was no response from Marr who stood with his arm's at his sides and then his hands slowly moved up and returned the embrace with a gentle pat on the shoulders.
"I know you do Cregan. Be safe and fly well," he said quietly. Cregan smiled and stepped back, a look of determination on his face. He looked over at one of the servant's standing just within earshot along the wall.
"Prepare my fighter!" he called and walked towards the interior of the palace. It was time to finish this.