05-17-2020, 06:14 PM
Marcus found it hard to sleep that night. It sometimes happened, his mind unable to quiet from the day's concerns. Meetings were a necessary part of this job, but they ate up massive chunks of his day. For every one hour devoted to something that interested him, there were eight that went to administration: law makers, lawyers, project managers, department heads. A new Consulate had come into existence almost over night and organizing it was a herculean task.
And while beaurocrats knew their function, he demanded its structure would make it clear that he was at its head. That no part of it would be hidden from him. Of course, he knew he could not do everything. Delegation was necessary. But he needed to at least know what each was involved in. Practice, for when the time came. He didn't imagine it would any easier once he took over the Custody.
After an hour of unsuccessful attempts, he sat up in his bed and flipped on the television. He was bored. Nothing caught his interest. He scrolled through things to stream. He needed something mindless, something he'd seen before. A treadmill for his brain.
He stopped and smiled. There. The stirring opening music took him back. One arm behind his head, he watched for a bit, pieces of dialog coming to him a second before they were spoken. His eyes closed, but he was still listening. His breathing relaxed and he settled back into his pillow, switching the screen off but leaving the sound on.
He drifted, pieces of what he heard making its way into his head, his waking dream, warping it. He stood there, cool metal in his hand, solid and natural. His fingers caressed the buttons, the small dials that adjusted the length and intensity.
He pressed and a purple blade extended, the comforting vibration and tell tale shooosh accelerating his heart beat. He felt the Force flow through him into the blade, the two of them one, it an extension of his will.
And he smiled, as the image faded, his mind coming closer to the surface. He knew what he wanted to do. To make. He was excited at the thought.
Now he could sleep, content with his plans.
And while beaurocrats knew their function, he demanded its structure would make it clear that he was at its head. That no part of it would be hidden from him. Of course, he knew he could not do everything. Delegation was necessary. But he needed to at least know what each was involved in. Practice, for when the time came. He didn't imagine it would any easier once he took over the Custody.
After an hour of unsuccessful attempts, he sat up in his bed and flipped on the television. He was bored. Nothing caught his interest. He scrolled through things to stream. He needed something mindless, something he'd seen before. A treadmill for his brain.
He stopped and smiled. There. The stirring opening music took him back. One arm behind his head, he watched for a bit, pieces of dialog coming to him a second before they were spoken. His eyes closed, but he was still listening. His breathing relaxed and he settled back into his pillow, switching the screen off but leaving the sound on.
He drifted, pieces of what he heard making its way into his head, his waking dream, warping it. He stood there, cool metal in his hand, solid and natural. His fingers caressed the buttons, the small dials that adjusted the length and intensity.
He pressed and a purple blade extended, the comforting vibration and tell tale shooosh accelerating his heart beat. He felt the Force flow through him into the blade, the two of them one, it an extension of his will.
And he smiled, as the image faded, his mind coming closer to the surface. He knew what he wanted to do. To make. He was excited at the thought.
Now he could sleep, content with his plans.