|Prior Affiliation|| |
Ithael Slite is a Falleen Noble, galactic business magnate, investor, and political strategist currently operating under the banner of the Trade Federation. Ithael is the Trade Federation's Director of Recycling, CEO of Vorsia Gearworks, Nathran of House Kthran, Lord of the Northern Deserts on Falleen Prime, and the Founder and Chairman of the investment conglomerate Kalahira Holdings Corporation. Ithael is, first and foremost, a strong willed entrepreneur with a unquenchable thirst for achievement. At present, aside from his duties with the Trade Federation, Ithael has become noticeably obsessed with funding ventures intended to prolong life indefinitely. At two hundred and seventeen years old, a combination of self-preservation and a desire to leave a lasting legacy seem to be the only true driving forces behind Ithael's actions, and if the rumors are to be believed, the reason for his sudden deviation from standard investing practices are related to a rapid degeneration in his physical health.
The high-born son of a ranking Tizmarat in House Kthran, Ithael Slite came into the galaxy nearly two centuries preceding the rise of the Galactic Empire. As a close friend and confident to the eventual King of the Falleen People, Eldrik Kuraine, Ithael left the Falleen homeworld to join Kuraine in service to the Republic. Following a brief stint in the Republic Military, Ithael was recruited to work for the Republic's banking elite, eventually serving as the Chief Economic Adviser for a string of Supreme Chancellors. It was during this time that Ithael developed much of his rapport with the galactic elite, and after a time of intense capital procurement, Ithael founded Kalahira Holdings Corporation, a finance company designed to manage the wealth of the most powerful women and men in the Galactic Republic.
The Rise of the Empire
With the Fall of the Republic, Slite acted as a double agent within the Imperial Senate for a band of freedom fighters who would go on to be called the Rebel Alliance, however he was ultimately betrayed by a former friend aligned with the Intergalactic Banking Clan. Imperial agents arrested the Falleen dissident, imprisoned, and tortured him.
Following four years in Imperial detention facilities a team of Falleen militants rescued Slite, informed him of the desecration of Falleen Prime, and explained their intention to establish a Federation of the Noble Falleen Clans, united in their resistance to the Galactic Empire. Shortly thereafter, Ithael Slite returned to Kuraine's side, and served with him until the fateful events at the Battle of Beta.
Dawning the Cloak
In the aftermath of Beta, on the run from the Galactic Empire, Ithael took refuge on the surface of Falleen Prime and returned to the deserts of his people. When he reached his city of birth, Ithael found the Kthran people to be in disarray, tormented by the standing Nathran, Lord Andask. Ithael set his eyes on the position of Nathran, and although he possessed nothing comparable to the physical prowess of the standing Nathran, Ithael circumvented the standard combat-centered transfer of power, instead slowly siphoning away all of Andask's economic standing. With industrial interests backing to-be Nathran Slite, a plan among Kthran Nobility was developed to overthrow Lord Andask and win the favor of the general populace. The day finally came when Slite challenged the Desert Lord, and through a long string of carefully timed events, the duel ended in the challenger's favor with hardly a finger lifted. Ithael Slite dawned the Cloak of the Desert Lord, and was installed as the new Nathran of Kthran and Lord of the Northern Deserts.
The (New) Old Republic/The Commonality
After revitalizing his city of birth, and reuniting the banner-men of House Kthran, Nathran Ithael was invited to help a ragtag group of former Republicans form a colloquially named resistance government, the Old Republic. Slite ascended to the position of Councilor, a member of the government's high command. During his time with the Old Republic, Councilor Slite orchestrated the structural transition from the Old Republic to what is now known as The Commonality. Upon completion of this undertaking, Ithael Slite answered the call of his people, and left to aid the Falleen Federation in its own time of transition.
A Renewed Federation
Slite, once more, made his way to Falleen space and joined the Royal Falleen Army in an advisory role, settling back into the society he called home. Over the course of a year, Ithael regularly contributed to the Falleen War Council, economic development throughout the Federation, the further advancement of House Kthran, and also spent a great deal of his spare time on redeveloping Kalahira. His time with the Federation culminated in aiding with the installation of a new King, and managing the political and economic aftermath of the transfer of power. Feeling satisfied with his impression on the Federation, Ithael departed to retake the helm of Kalahira Holdings Corporation, and to pursue a career among old friends in the Trade Federation.
“Captain.” The single word, hailing from a thin and composed Falleen, echoed throughout the sparsely decorated quarters. “We have arrived. Republic Naval Command requests your presence planet-side. I have prepared our shuttle for departure.”
“I’m aware, Ambassador Slite.” the captain replied, refusing to relinquish his gaze from the viewport before him.
Taking a measured step forward, Slite clasped his hands behind his back. The captain was irritated, though were it not for their shared biology Slite would have undoubtedly failed to notice his commanding officer’s frustration. Falleen culture frowned upon on displays of emotion.
“Captain, the Nataku must submit for repairs.” Ithael paused to stare at the planet looming ominously before them, drowning eternally in the blackness of space. “By the time we return she will be worthy of your command. Perhaps the prospect of rejoining the fleet, this time fully operational and battle-ready, will be reason enough to endure the bureaucratic firestorm waiting below.”
“Ithael.” Slite blinked at the mention of his first name, but otherwise welcomed the other Falleen’s surrender of formality.
“Yes, Eldrik?” he replied.
“Thank you.” Eldrik locked eyes with Ithael, nodded, and then turned on heel toward the exit.
“Of course.” Moving to follow, his comlink beeped a muted tone. He retrieved the device from within the azure robes he’d donned for the upcoming formalities, and depressed a small button. “Ambassador Slite.”
“This is Republic Naval Command. Status?” Slite glanced back at the planet just before the door slid closed behind them.
“Captain Kuraine and I will be arriving within the hour.”
Blood seeped from Ithael; from his brow, his shoulder, and both of his knees. He was suspended above a meter of water, helpless as the anomalous gravity of whatever planet he was on slammed him from one cell wall to the next, periodically submerging him, ultimately wearing him down for the impending interrogation. Trust no one. He knew better than to show his cards to another, especially so early in the game. Following the rise of the Galactic Empire, Ithael was relieved of his bureaucratic duties, and dedicated himself to espionage, working within the Imperial Senate as support for the various growing resistance movements. Betrayal never tasted so sour.
Now it just tasted like blood.
A door opened above him, and after a silence that dragged on for what seemed like decades, a voice echoed down the chamber: “Slite. Your turn.”
“…unconfirmed, however there are indications that the Shadowstone may have been infiltrated. The Libra is lost, and Ul-Yanin is without hope. We’ve sent Agent Slite to the bridge to oversee your departure. Leave with him and Lord Commander Darius will execute the fleet’s retreat. Please, Your Majesty, protect yourself.” The link went dead.
Excellent timing Slite thought to himself as he stepped across the threshold separating the Command Corridor and the Bridge. Taking a final timed stride, Slite proceeded to kneel before his King. “Kuraine, your ship is ready. May we depart?”
Kuraine waved Slite to his feet, and then smiled. “Unfortunately, Ithael, I will not comply.” Kuraine turned and walked, with all the regal composure of a King, leaving the bridge behind for an unoccupied tactical evaluation room. Ithael followed closely, his skin beginning to darken with anger. Once the doors sealed shut behind them, Kuraine took a deep breath.
“Your majesty…” Kuraine cut him off with a raised finger. Reaching into a pocket, the Falleen King removed an old and worn datachip, placing it in Ithael's hand. “What exactly...” Again, he was cut off by a call for silence.
The King tilted his head to the right, and then spoke with an unnerving slowness. “Take this, and leave aboard the ship you prepared for me. Do not ask questions.”
Ithael's chest burned with a desire to argue, but he learned long ago what it meant to defy Kuraine. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Ithael leaned over the communication console, breathing with careful resolve, waiting patiently for the comm systems to come online after six days of hyperspace travel. Finally. He keyed in the appropriate pass-codes, and there it was, an emergency broadcast. Somehow, he already knew what it was going to tell him.
“…by Sith Lords at the Battle of Beta. Heir-apparent, Lord Admiral Bisz Aldaris is expected to address the Federation within the next 48 standard hours. *Static* This is an emergency broadcast to the Citizens of the Falleen Federation. His Majesty, King Eldrik Kuraine was killed by Sith Lords at the Battle of Beta. Heir-apparent, Lord Admiral Bisz Aldaris is expected...”
Ithael muted the broadcast.
The King is dead. So it begins.