FORESIGHT and SCOPE: BOOK TWO

C H A P T E R F O R T Y-S I X

My jaw dropped, completely gobsmacked. "Are you actually defending the very establishment that betrayed you and threw your ass under a Bantha? Are you truly that brainwashed?"

"No." Rampart growled deeply at my insinuation. As his chin lowered, I watched his intelligent eyes grow dark. I stood my ground as he slowly approached me. With each vehement statement, his internal rage exposed itself; his usual soothing tone mutated into cracked hysteria, emphasizing certain words with not only his voice but his slender fingers as well, seizing the air in between us like he was ripping their essense and claiming them as his own. "After the devoted service I put forth into authorizing a secured future for the Imperial Militia, I deserve my equal share of the glory. I deserve my due respect and my rightful cut of everything." I craned my neck as he stepped his last—our toes barely grazed. Undaunted, I crossed my arms, filling the space within our close proximity. I watched him subconsciously wrinkle his nose again—most likely a reaction to my horrid scent I must be radiating. But it seemed like it wasn't enough to drive him away from making his protestation to me.

"I know you've read every file on me in the archives—you took great advantage in your favorable position. You know I've picked locks and have drawn knives. I've climbed walls and crushed gates. All for the fruitful life I deserve. Whatever I was not given, I took...all in the name of the Empire." He heaved a deep breath as he leaned forward until he was only inches from my face. I sensed a change in him—he internally pulled himself back before he could erupt like a supernova. His intonation reduced to an eerier verson of his natural accent... "So tell me, Miss Quinn, am I asking for too much? Why should I have to beg for what everybody wants?"

"You are pathetic." were the only words my lips muttered.

"And you've grown soft." Rampart, unfazed. I had never witnessed this man portray himself so greviously. While a hint of empathy simmered in my heart, I also had my dignity to defend...

"You should consider what you say next." I placed a hand on my knife hilt as my brows furrowed with a threatening glare. "Soft? Ha! You know what I'm capable of. You are lucky I—" I stopped when my mind hinted me to glance up to my left, where I spotted the surveillance camera. My jaw clenched in disappointment, reminding myself I was not truly alone with the vice admiral. Rampart noticed, too, and chuckled before finally backing away. "If I didn't value what was left of my life, I would mock you."

"So what now, Rampart?" I huffed, removing my itching fingers from my weapons. Rampart bobbed his head in thought. He began to pace, which made my arms break out in nervous chills. For a man who wore his last band of grandeur on his sleeve, he was mysterious. I have been working alongside this man for months now, and he was correct: I had studied all his files and there was a consistency in his Imperial endeavors.

I know he was a man who perceived the end of the Clone Wars and the formation of the Empire as a chance for peace, claiming it would bring opportunity and prosperity. He saw the importance in laying a strong foundation in the design of a formidable militia and supported the increase in soldiers, convinced it was necessary to maintain order and permit a strong ruling government. I know of his 'Project War-Mantle' (a single file mention that required much digging on my part) that sought to produce loyal soldiers without the need for clones and how confident he was that it would strengthen the future of the Empire. Loyalty of those who willingly enlisted, according to Rampart, was more valuable than the training underwent by clone troopers. In all his devoted efforts to expand Imperial presence and power across the galaxy, Vice Admiral Rampart was particularly patient, cunning and opportunistic in his approach. His impressive efforts all had served the Empire with extended benefits...until it didn't.