Dominion &nbsp; Ash, Rock and Steel: MIR Dominion of the Ash Worlds!

Aurelian of Vandemar |

Felix Yorwell

Karl Von Strauss · Aug 25, 2026

		
​
Tags: 
			 
		Felix Yorwell
 | 
			 
		Aurelian of Vandemar
 | 
			 
		Marlon Sularen

Karl had arrived late.

This would be Karl's first public appearance in several months. Aside from his brief outing to negotiate a deal with 
			 
		The Lord of Hunger
, the former Imperial had kept himself largely out of the public eye, dedicating his time to the reconstruction and expansion of Mon Cala. The fruits of his efforts would, hopefully, be revealed to the galaxy soon enough. But that was a matter for another time.

Those who had seen Karl in the past would immediately notice that something about him was different. For one, he was no longer dressed in the Imperial-styled regalia that had become synonymous with his previous positions. Instead, he wore a deep, almost black-purple suit, its high collar framing his neck while polished gold buttons provided the only real contrast. It was an understated ensemble by Karl's standards, but somehow no less imposing.

Then there was the cane. A burgundy wooden thing, polished to a fine sheen, topped with the carved head of a phoenix. His grip around it was firm, though the hand wrapped around the handle bore a deep, ugly bruise.

And then there was his face. The years seemed to have caught up with him. The features that had once carried a certain sharpness now appeared more sunken, the lines of age more pronounced than they had been only months prior. Whether it was simply the inevitable march of time or something else entirely was impossible to say.

Lastly, there was his entourage. C1RC3 was still present, of course, but the familiar AI was no longer accompanied by Karl's usual retinue. Instead, several KXU droids followed close behind, alongside what appeared to be a doctor—or perhaps some other form of medical personnel.

Any one of these things, taken individually, might have been dismissed as nothing more than an oddity. Together, however, they painted a rather different picture. Something was happening behind the scenes, something that had changed Karl. And, perhaps most tellingly of all, something that seemed to be limiting just how long the old Imperial could remain in the public eye.

Karl's retinue, C1RC3 excluded, dispersed throughout the hall, each taking up positions that allowed them to keep watch without drawing undue attention. Karl himself made his way toward what he assumed to be a military officer of some mid-to-high rank, accompanied by a man who could only be described as a blinding pillar of gold, and Marlon Sularen. He slowed as he approached, stopping just short of the pair and allowing them to finish their conversation before making his presence known.

"Hello, gentlemen. My name is Karl von Strauss. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." He extended his hand in greeting, offering the sort of polite smile that had become familiar to anyone who had dealt with him in his previous life as a statesman.

"It is good to see you again, Sularen. I'm surprised that they didn't outright make you Grand Admiral, but after all that has happened it might be good to show some sport." The words were accompanied by a light chuckle.

To the casual observer, there was nothing particularly strange about Karl's demeanor. His posture was composed, his smile cordial, his tone warm enough to pass for the same affable statesman he had always presented himself as.

To better ears, however, the performance was obvious.

There was a certain deliberateness to every word, every inflection, every smile. The warmth was there because Karl knew it was expected of him, not because he particularly felt it. It was the voice of a man reciting a role he had played for far too long, polished to the point that only someone paying very close attention might notice how little of it came naturally anymore.

After meeting everyone, he headed to his capsule.

Lothar Braeyek · Aug 26, 2026

Objective III - Moon Exploration |

Augustus Tassar

Ash Cobalt

Jessica Bowers

The order came through the comms,

Augustus Tassar s voice carrying over the formation.

"You need a proper callsign."

Lothar put his elbow on the control pad, his finger rested on his lips in thought..

"Very good, sir.. TA-147."

Behind him, Keeves remained at the gunner's station, his eyes fixed upon the sensor display. Their AT-AAW held a dutiful watch as it positioned up behind the main line with the other walkers spread evenly around them.

Ahead,

Ash Cobalt led the vanguard through the silent streets, moving cautiously from building to building.

Augustus Tassar followed directly behind him with the 181st Legion, his Stormtroopers advancing in disciplined formation. On either flank,

Jessica Bowers Inferno Squadron moved in small groups, watching the rocks, buildings and darkened alleys for anything that might threaten the column.

Keeves studied his instruments.
"Radiation's still present."

"Hmm.. Source?"

"Same location. Below the settlement sir."

Lothar looked through the viewport toward the faint glow reported by

Ash Cobalt
"Very well."

He opened the command channel.
"TA-147 Walker to Lion-Actual. Anomaly confirmed. We remain behind your line as ordered. Weapons ready, but holding fire."

The walker began its slow advance as Lothar watched

Ash Cobalt disappear farther into the darkness..

"Mr Keeves.. alert our walker detachment to maintain formation.. Clear firing arcs too."

"Does Lion-Actual know that everyone still calls you Braeyek?"

Lothar glanced at him. "We're the Imperial Army, Keeves. Not Stormtroopers. We needn't pretend otherwise.. I will also remind you that such chatter will stay in this cockpit."

Keeves smirked giving a knowing look to

Lothar Braeyek

Neither man spoke again. The silent settlement seemed to swallow the sound of the advancing Imperials..

Illithor Du'thra · Aug 26, 2026

Objective: 2 Viewing Gallery
Location: Cophrigin V Viewing Gallery
Tags:

Zesiro |

Sae |

Illithor wanted to see what the commander who had gotten too much political power had left in him commanding wise. One can never know if politicking had dulled ones military senses. Illithor wasn't a military person, he had no interest. He did have interest in creating technology & ships.fddfdw sdd s

Illithor glided into the room with a few aids in tow. Surveying the room there already were a few military men around talking, but R'ayne and the the man behind N&Z caught his eye. The latter he had seen enough of with the failed buying of shares some time back & whatever the feeling he made into the room of the TARSAI conference.

Others were of some interest but when R'ayne & Victport started talking that sealed it. Illithor sauntered over with a drink in hand before introducing himself "Hello, My name is Illithor Du'thra. Of Du'thra Engineering. R'ayne its good to cross paths again-" Giving her a nod "-and It's a pleasure to meet you... Victport? That's correct right"

Others would have to wait a moment, like

Zesiro and

Sae , but looked like they had interesting conversation potential to say the least. So mingling with them was next.

John Mahporeem · Aug 26, 2026

"ATTENTION. ATTENTION. ALL PARTICIPANTS, PLEASE ENTER YOUR PODS. THE SIMULATION IS STARTING. ATTENTION. ATTENTION. ALL PARTICIPANTS, PLEASE ENTER YOUR PODS. THE SIMULATION IS STARTING. ATTENTION, ATTENTION-"

The cue had been given. With the arrival of all the participants to the simulation room, the test could now begin. Once everyone entered their respective pods, the entire floor when dark, and within a few moments, all present were suddenly "transported" across the galaxy to where their battle would be taking place. It only took a matter of seconds for the N&Z's advanced machinery to set the scene, and simulation loaded without any difficulty or incidents.

In perhaps a bit of serious irony, the location of today's simulated battle had been chosen as the Florrum Hypergate, the scene of one of the worst defeats ever suffered by the now defunct Imperial Confederation. On one side, tasked with defending the hypergate, were the forces of

Aurelian of Vandemar and

Felix Yorwell , who had been "ordered" to defend the hypergate at all costs, preventing

Marlon Sularen from trying to secure. Being in control of the gate also meant that they would be able to summon reinforcements to aid them in their defense.

Marlon Sularen , on the other hand, had started directly across from the hypergate and

Aurelian of Vandemar and

Felix Yorwell . His task would be to wrench away control from the pair and secure the hypergate for himself. Complicating things somewhat was the addition of the forces of

Karl Von Strauss directly in the middle of both sides. Karl's forces were "neutral", but could be convinced to either join one of the sides or leave the battlefield entirely. As much as this was a test of Marlon's combat skills, it was also testing how well Marlon would be able to adapt and negotiate with others, something that he had struggled to do throughout his disastrous political career.

Perhaps in this battle, Marlon would be able to let his negotiation skills sign, though Karl's support was strictly necessary to win the fight, though it certainly help Marlon out in the long run. For now, the stage was set, and it was up to the players to begin making their moves onto the board...

TAGS:

Aurelian of Vandemar

Felix Yorwell

Karl Von Strauss

Marlon Sularen

Victport Graras · Aug 26, 2026

HIGH COMMANDER VICTPORT GRARAS
COPHRIGIN V SIMULATION CHAMBERS
OBJECTIVE II: VIEWING GALLERY

"ATTENTION, ATTENTION-"

The start of the exercise cut through the relative quiet of the viewing gallery like a hot vibroknife through butter. Almost immediately, the window to Graras's left came to life as it began to transmit images, showing the perspectives of

Marlon Sularen ,

Karl Von Strauss ,

Felix Yorwell and

Aurelian of Vandemar to all those present. Scattered around the room were a number of smaller terminals that would also show each participants view of the battle, though these would have to be cycled through one person at a time. Regardless, there was no shortage of viewing options throughout the gallery, something that Sularen was undoubtedly aware of. All angles were covered, and nothing that anyone did would go unrecorded or unnoticed. Still, for the time being each side was currently in the process of selecting their forces, and would be for quite some time.

That meant it was time for Victport to go socialize.

As he and Zonill walked the room, he encountered a number of familiar faces amongst those present. He offered a quick greeting to

The Lord of Hunger and had a somewhat lengthy conversation with Internal Minister

Zesiro about the state of the Imperial Remnant. He then struck up a conversation with Science Minister

R'ayne Asara , who he had yet to formally meet up until this point.

"High Commander Graras. Allow me to introduce myself. R'ayne Asara, Minister of Science. Congratulations on your appointment. I suspect the position will prove, how should I put it, considerably more interesting than the title suggests."

"No congratulations necessary, but thank you", Graras replied as he shook R'ayne's hand. The Twi'lek was still something of a mystery to the Imperial Remnnat, but the work she had done had proven invaluable, and Graras could think of no one better to fill the role of Science Minister. Still, Graras couldn't help but feel that their was something off about R'ayne, though his investigations into her background had so far come up inconclusive.

"I'm certainly inclined to agree", Graras continued as he focused back on the conversation. "Most people fail to realize the scientific potential we have here out in the Outer Rim. As I understand it, the incident on Ruisto serves as a perfect indicator of what is to be gained through your research. I trust you will not let me down, as you came highly recommended for the position."

That wasn't hyperbole or an exaggeration, as Graras had selected R'ayne based on her achievements and accomplishments while in Imperial service. She would not have the position otherwise.

Next to make introductions was

Illithor Du'thra .

"Hello, My name is Illithor Du'thra. Of Du'thra Engineering. R'ayne its good to cross paths again-and It's a pleasure to meet you... Victport? That's correct right"

"You are indeed correct", Graras replied as he internally sized up his new Salvage and Industry Minister. Granted, there was nothing wrong with who he had picked for the position, and Du'thra was certainly a fine choice, but he hadn't been Graras's first choice. That had been

Karl Von Strauss , who had declined the position and Minister of Foreign Affairs. Graras had wanted to talk with Karl privately, but he had elected to participate in the simulation, and so he would have to wait.

"I'll let you two catch up, if you'll excuse me", Graras stated as he left the pair to their conversation. There was still one more person he needed to talk to, and for the time being, they were perhaps the most important person in the room besides himself.

Graras walked over to where

Sae was standing as he struck up a conversation with them.

"I'm surprised you showed up", Graras began as he grabbed a drink from the table next to him and

Sae . "Considering who you represent, there are many in this room who consider you a traitor and an enemy. I consider those who do so to be complete and utter fools. Would you agree?", Graras asked as he took a sip from his drink.

TAGS:

R'ayne Asara

Sae

Illithor Du'thra

Zesiro

The Lord of Hunger
OPEN

Percival Bridger · Aug 26, 2026

◆ LT. BRIDGER ◆ Aide-de-Camp Interim Director of Intelligence	// DIVISION TECHNICAL OPERATIONS	// LOCATION Cophrigin V, Viewing Gallery	// TASKING

▸ TAGS　

Sae 　•　OPEN

Today was a big day for the young Lieutenant Bridger. The ADC was currently serving as Interim Director of Intelligence, a responsibility far above what his rank might ordinarily suggest. Although most eyes would be fixed upon

Marlon Sularen for his Performance Review, Percival's attention could not afford to remain there. There were special guests in attendance as well; foreign representatives, dignitaries, and possible enemies of the Empire moving through the Viewing Gallery beneath the shelter of diplomacy. Those were the people the young officer was particularly keen to keep an eye upon and monitor throughout the event.

Prior to joining the Viewing Gallery, Percival had spent much of the morning correcting an irritating fault in the facility's guest-tracking network. Temporary credentials had been registering inconsistently between security checkpoints, leaving gaps whenever visitors moved between monitored sections of the complex. He had seen the badge registry resynchronized with the door logs, surveillance feeds, and restricted-access alerts, then personally checked the resulting movement records for discrepancies.

It was tedious and thankless work, largely invisible once completed… which suited him perfectly. By the time the first guests began filtering toward the gallery, Intelligence could once again account for who had entered the facility, where their credentials had been used, and which doors they had attempted to open.

He donned his officers uniform afterward, immaculately clean, pressed, and tailored to suit his slight figure perfectly. His rank badge sat neatly in place upon his breast. Outside the usual particulars of an officer's uniform, he wore a pair of dark-shaded prescription glasses. Somewhere in his medical file was the thoroughly unremarkable explanation that prolonged exposure to bright displays, technical readouts, and holographic recordings irritated his eyes after hours spent staring into them. Rather than constantly switching between protective lenses and his normal spectacles, Percival had simply had the darker tint worked into his prescription. They had become such a habitual part of his working appearance that few gave them much thought.

The only other oddity was the cane upon which he leaned to keep his weight from the injured leg. It was a slender piece of polished black hardwood, lacquered to a subdued sheen rather than anything ostentatious, with a clean derby handle shaped for the palm and a narrow gunmetal collar where the grip met the shaft. A matching metal ferrule protected the foot, dark enough that it nearly disappeared against the black finish. There was no engraving, ornament, or decorative flourish to draw the eye; it looked expensive only in the precision of its construction and the care with which it had been maintained. Like the rest of Lieutenant Bridger's presentation, it was formal, restrained, and meticulously kept. He rested against it only as much as necessity demanded, keeping his posture composed and biting back any outward sign of pain whenever his injured leg protested.

According to the incident report, Lieutenant Bridger had managed the rather unimpressive feat of missing the final rung of a service ladder while climbing down from an elevated sensor junction. The resulting fall had badly wrenched his knee and left one side of him mottled with bruising. Medical had recommended that he stay off the leg for several days. Percival, apparently, had interpreted that advice to mean he ought to use a cane and continue working.

He was an oddly young man to find carrying the temporary weight of the Director's office, and yet, if anyone had asked, there was a perfectly mundane trail of paperwork explaining exactly how the little lieutenant had ended up limping into the Viewing Gallery that morning.

Thankfully, nobody so far seemed inclined to look twice at the slight young lieutenant limping around with a cane after losing a fight with a maintenance ladder. He was easy enough to categorize at a glance: some diligent young Intelligence aide who had been handed more work than rank, injured himself doing something embarrassingly mundane, and reported for duty anyway. A few enlisted personnel might have found the sight faintly endearing; older officers were perhaps more likely to wonder which superior had been irresponsible enough to leave the boy holding the Director's chair.

He turned his attention toward the various faces he recognized from the guest list. Percival carried no datapad to consult and made no obvious effort to check names against photographs; he had committed the list to memory before ever stepping into the room. Names, affiliations, declared purpose, known associations, security notes… each had been filed away neatly enough that matching a face to an entry required little more than a passing glance.

Priority one was

Sae . The High Republic representative carried a broad web of contacts and affiliations, enough to warrant quiet attention. A glance was sufficient to place her in the room, note who stood near her, and see when that changed; High Commander Graras approaching her personally only reinforced her importance.

R'ayne Asara remained an unresolved question. One of their own ministers, certainly, but with enough gaps in her background to keep Percival curious.

The Lord of Hunger and

Illithor Du'thra earned lesser attention for their corporate ties and proximity to sensitive systems, while

Zesiro was someone he had no interest in underestimating.

So Percival settled into the gallery with the room already arranged inside his head. Marlon Sularen's Performance Review commanded the largest display, but the young lieutenant's attention extended well beyond it.

He sought out a warm refreshment before choosing a comfortable place to rest his injured leg, requesting a cup of hot tea to sip while he observed those gathered around him. Most would no doubt be watching the Performance Review, which suited Percival just fine; people tended to pay less attention to the quiet young officer at the edge of the room when something more interesting occupied the screens.

Wine might have been the more fashionable choice for an event such as this, but he was well aware of the impression it could leave. A junior officer temporarily carrying the responsibilities of the Director's office had little business dulling his senses while on duty, particularly in a room filled with foreign dignitaries and possible adversaries. Tea was the safer option and far less likely to give anyone reason to question his judgment.

Prystill Oasay · Aug 26, 2026

Objective: II - VIEWING GALLERY
Location: Simulation Chambers, Cophrigin V
Outfit: Ministerial Uniform
Tags:

Sae |

Illithor Du'thra
Direct Interaction:

Zesiro

The uniform still felt slightly strange. Not uncomfortable. Prystill had worn far less comfortable things for considerably less pleasant reasons. The sharply tailored black fabric fit her perfectly, the high collar framing pale purple skin while restrained silver detailing distinguished the garment from that of an ordinary Imperial officer. Her ministerial insignia rested neatly upon her breast, complemented by the subtle emblem of the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant. It was the insignia rather than the uniform that felt strange.

Minister of Foreign Affairs.

There had been a time when Diva Pry had needed to make an entrance. A turn of the hips, a flash of a smile, just enough hesitation before stepping beneath the lights to make people wonder when she would appear. Minister Oasay had discovered that important people rarely needed to announce themselves at all. They simply arrived.

"Your schedule remains unnecessarily ambitious, Minister," MX-4X observed from half a pace behind her.

Prystill's eyes continued moving across the Viewing Gallery. "That's why I have you, Max."

"To make your schedule less ambitious?"

"To tell me how ambitious it is."

There was a fractional pause from the protocol droid. "I am beginning to suspect my talents are underutilized." The corner of Prystill's mouth curled upward as the exercise began.

The relative calm of the gallery vanished beneath the illumination of the enormous window. Images appeared across its surface, presenting the perspectives of the commanders participating in the exercise while smaller terminals throughout the gallery offered additional feeds.

There would be no hiding mistakes today. Prystill wondered whether that was supposed to reassure her. Grand Admiral Sularen had an audience, but the Foreign Minister found herself paying considerably less attention to the fleets than many of those gathered to witness them. The technical details mattered, certainly. Admirals and generals would dissect every maneuver afterward.

Prystill was interested in what everyone else would remember. Confidence. Competence. Unity. Or perhaps something considerably less flattering. People rarely remembered every lyric of a song. They remembered how the performance made them feel. Governments weren't so different.

Her attention consequently moved through the gallery rather than remaining fixed upon the displays. She noted conversations forming and dissolving, who gravitated naturally toward whom, who seemed content to observe, and who appeared more interested in the people surrounding the exercise than the exercise itself. People had always been easier for Prystill to understand than fleets.

"Sae," MX-4X supplied quietly as Prystill's gaze settled upon one of their foreign guests.

"I know."

"Then you are presumably aware that—"

"Brief me anyway." MX-4X immediately complied, quietly reciting the relevant portions of the diplomatic file. Affiliations. Associations. Political considerations. The sort of information Prystill had once relied upon Nolle to understand and now had an entire ministry dedicated to collecting for her. She listened while watching Sae. An obvious first conversation. Perhaps too obvious.

Prystill had barely begun considering her approach when another figure moved toward the same woman. "High Commander Graras," MX-4X noted.

"I know who the High Commander is, Max."

"Given the comparatively recent formation of the Cabinet, I considered—"

"I know who my colleagues are."

"Of course, Minister."

Prystill suppressed another smile. She watched Graras approach Sae and changed course without breaking stride, moving instead toward one of the smaller terminals. One hand came to rest lightly against its edge as she regarded the unfolding exercise. At least outwardly. Her attention remained elsewhere.

"Considering who you represent, there are many in this room who consider you a traitor and an enemy." One of Prystill's eyebrows climbed. Victport certainly had his own approach to diplomacy.

"Shall I calculate an appropriate interval before you introduce yourself?" MX-4X asked quietly.

"Change of plans."

A pause. "You have possessed this office for an alarmingly short period of time to have already developed that phrase."

This time Prystill did smile. "Who else?"

The droid began providing possibilities. Prystill didn't need many. Her gaze settled upon another woman in the gallery. Someone Graras himself had spoken with before moving toward Sae. Zesiro. nternal Minister. That changed the equation entirely. "Her."

"I had assumed your priority would be the foreign representative."

"It is."

MX-4X's head shifted slightly toward Zesiro. "Minister Zesiro is not a foreign representative."

"No." Prystill straightened from the terminal. "She's someone I'm going to need if I intend to be any good at talking to them." There were limits to what diplomatic reports could tell her. Foreign representatives told Prystill what their governments wanted Mahporeem to believe. Her own officials were perfectly capable of telling her what Mahporeem wanted to believe about itself.

Prystill needed people who could tell her what was actually happening inside the Empire she had been appointed to represent. Foreign policy didn't stop at the border. Trade agreements affected Imperial businesses. Treaties affected Imperial security. Refugees, immigration, foreign investment, visiting delegations and half a dozen other things Prystill's new office would eventually touch had consequences for Zesiro's.

More importantly, Prystill was expected to convince other governments that Mahporeem was something worth dealing with. She wanted to know whether the people living beneath its flag agreed. "Give me the useful version," Prystill said as she started across the gallery.

"I always provide the useful version."

"The short useful version."

"Ah." MX-4X followed half a pace behind as he quietly summarized what Prystill needed to know. She listened.

A strange thought surfaced somewhere between one step and the next. There had been a time when Prystill entered rooms like this because someone else had brought her. A Hutt had owned her. A Sith had possessed her. A tavern keeper had employed her. Nolle had made her an aide. Even after that, she had spent considerable time wondering whether she belonged among the people making decisions rather than those expected to live with them.

There was no one to stand behind anymore. No one whose presence justified hers. Minister of Foreign Affairs. Prystill wasn't approaching one of Mahporeem's leaders. She was approaching a colleague. The realization lasted only a moment before the practiced ease of the former performer returned. She waited for an appropriate opening before approaching Zesiro, offering the other minister a warm smile.

"Minister Zesiro?" Her contralto remained one of the few things about Prystill's life that had never required reinvention. "Prystill Oasay. Foreign Affairs."

She offered her hand. "I've been meaning to find you. Considering how often I'm apparently going to be making promises to people outside our borders..." Prystill's eyes briefly flicked toward Sae and the High Commander before returning to Zesiro, amusement touching her expression. "...I thought it might be wise to introduce myself to the woman who can tell me what those promises are going to do to everyone inside them."

The Lord of Hunger · Aug 26, 2026

		
From his position, the Lord of Hunger kept a close observation on those who were to be considered the political and military might within the Imperial Remnant, yet he did not consider any of them to be on his level. The N&Z was a major player within Mahporeem's day to day life, its military assets, its energy consumption, it's recreation, it's finances... there was little the corporation did not have a hand in and the N&Z would try their darnest to retain that position at the top.

Recently, they had managed to snag a contract which was without question one of their best opportunities; for Mahporeem despite its massive military complex and growing financial opportunities, still had quite a few holes in one of their most important sectors; namely their internal security. The widely praised Junkyard knights were too few and too inefficient at the moment to handle round the clock security detail for the most important people in the Imperial Remnant. As such an agreement was struck with High Commander 
			 
		Victport Graras
 to have the N&Z's highly competent security division to actively deploy around a dozen units of security personel to be designated to the highest officials within the remnant, bar for those in the military and the navy who could rely on their own manpower. One of these units was going to be utilized by the High Commander himself and as such, to assure the absolute safety of the man, the Lord of Hunger had decided to personally handle this matter.

Still, as his eyes glanced across the people that were either arriving, or mingling with others, his eyes momentarily halted as they spotted 
			 
		Sae
 . Her presence was enough to mandate the monster to finally stand up from the leisurely seat he had taken, calmly making his way through the crowd that had been gathering to spectate the grand simulation, the wargames which had to test the strength and tactical capacity of 
			 
		Marlon Sularen
 . Credius knew the former supreme commander's capabilities... a sometimes rather reckless man who just like him had a favor towards utilizing overwhelming firepower in favor of stealthy tactics, but with enough of a mind to know the use of tactical maneuvers must never be overlooked.

Tearing his attention away from the simulation, he calmly walked over to the growing group of officials, as he approached, a soft, yet somewhat devious smile began to form on his face as he made a solemn nod towards 
			 
		R'ayne Asara
 and 
			 
		Illithor Du'thra
 before walking over towards the High Commander who had seemingly already approached 
			 
		Sae
 . Clearing his throat as he stood behind the two, towering over both, the man smiled softly as he made a respectful bow to both.

				Victport Graras said:
			
			"Considering who you represent, there are many in this room who consider you a traitor and an enemy. I consider those who do so to be complete and utter fools. Would you agree?"
		
Click to expand...

Interjecting, Credius let out a soft chuckle before the woman could even utter a word. "Would that not mean that you condemn most of your own council to be fools?"

A deep, raspy laugh escaped the Lord of Hunger's throat, as he followed up with a sip from the glass of berrywine he had brought along from his seat. "Since she has the backing of many a financial group with ties to the N&Z, this means she is also tied and connected to myself... is that not enough validation... or do you think any of those in mahporeem are willing to openly turn on the N&Z?"

Zesiro · Aug 26, 2026

Objective: II - VIEWING GALLERY
Interacting with:

Prystill Oasay

Zesiro had been watching the opening stages of the simulation when she became aware of someone approaching. It was less an interruption than an old instinct quietly making itself known, the same awareness that had once allowed her to notice people moving toward Darlyn before they ever reached the President. Years might have passed since protecting him had been her responsibility, but apparently some habits were considerably harder to retire than others. She turned from the display as the woman stopped nearby, blue eyes briefly taking in the unfamiliar face, the ministerial uniform, and the droid accompanying her.

The offered name filled in the important part. Foreign Affairs.

Zesiro's expression warmed slightly as she accepted the offered hand. "Zesiro. And please, just Zes is fine." She had never particularly cared for titles when they weren't necessary, and hearing Minister Zesiro directed at her still felt strange enough that she wasn't inclined to encourage its use. For much of her political life, she had been the person standing beside someone with a title, watching the room while they dealt with everything that came attached to it. Being the one someone deliberately sought out because of the office she held was going to take some getting used to.

Prystill's explanation earned a more genuine smile from her. "That might be one of the more sensible things I've heard from someone in Foreign Affairs," Zes replied, releasing her hand. There was humor in the words rather than criticism. "Usually somebody makes the promise first, and then everyone else gets to discover exactly what it means afterward." She had witnessed enough governments at work to know how easily something reasonable across a negotiating table could become considerably more complicated once actual people had to live with it.

Her attention briefly shifted toward the simulation before returning to Prystill. "But you're right. What happens outside the borders doesn't stay outside them. Trade, immigration, refugees, agreements with neighboring governments. Eventually, all of it reaches the people living here." She paused for a moment, considering the other woman a little more carefully. "And it works both ways. I can tell you what we're dealing with internally and what people actually need. That doesn't mean I'll always know what another government is willing to give us. That's where you come in."

There was something unexpectedly familiar about the conversation. Zes had spent years beside Darlyn, watching decisions move from discussions between a handful of people into policies that could affect millions. She had been there to protect him rather than govern alongside him, but standing close to power for that long had taught her plenty about how it worked. Apparently, stepping away hadn't erased those lessons. If anything, being on this side of the conversation gave her a rather different appreciation for them.

"So maybe we can save each other a few headaches," Zes continued, a trace of amusement returning to her features. "You tell me what you're thinking about promising before you promise it, and I'll tell you whether it's likely to make everyone inside our borders celebrate your appointment or curse your name." Her smile grew slightly before she glanced toward the enormous displays and then back to Prystill. "Since you came looking for me, I'm guessing you already have something on your mind."

Shae'ri Mor · Aug 27, 2026

That's...a Lot of Moons

Equipment • Junkyard Saber {Borrowed}
NPCs: x2 Battalions of Imperial Stormtroopers
Interaction{s} •

Erve Kozzit

Shae’ri Mor remained motionless for several seconds, her pale features standing in stark contrast to the wasteland around her as Erve's words settled into the cold air. The faint grin she offered was humorless. Something watching them. Something carving pieces from the colossal corpses scattered across the Boneyard.

Something that had left a deliberate trail into the darkness below. To Shae’ri, it sounded less like an invitation and more like the sort of warning the galaxy delivered moments before it collected a body. Her fingers remained rested against the battered hilt of her lightsaber, feeling the familiar weight of scrap-forged metal beneath her palm.

She looked toward the opening, then down at the cable disappearing beneath the earth. “No demon chasing,” she said at last, her voice quiet and edged with Imperial severity. “Not yet.”

She crouched beside Erve, studying the disturbed soil and the cable with the patient suspicion of a soldier who had learned that curiosity was useful only when it survived the experience.

Shae’ri traced one finger just above the dirt without touching it, following the subtle disturbances around the cable. “We find out if my friend came through here first,” she decided. “Tracks. Broken soil. Residue. Anything.” Her eyes lifted toward the black mouth of the passage, where the darkness seemed almost unnaturally still.

Whatever waited beneath the Boneyard had already revealed enough to prove it was intelligent, or at least dangerous enough to imitate intelligence. Shae’ri rose slowly, signaling the closest stormtroopers. “If it came from below, we know where it went. If it goes below after us…”

Her thumb settled beside her activation switch. “Then we know it's following us.” She gave Erve a cold, crooked smile of her own. “Either way, we learn something before we start chasing monsters.”

Then she turned her attention back to the trail, ordering three stormtroopers to enter the passage to scout ahead, following shortly behind them. On a foreign world inhabited by myths and legends, she wasn't leaving anything to chance; when history has repeatedly proven what was once myth, can easily be shaped into reality.

Sae · Aug 27, 2026

Tag:

Zesiro |

Prystill Oasay

OBJECTIVE II:

" Viewing Gallery "

John Mahporeem said:
"ATTENTION. ATTENTION. ALL PARTICIPANTS, PLEASE ENTER YOUR PODS. THE SIMULATION IS STARTING. ATTENTION. ATTENTION. ALL PARTICIPANTS, PLEASE ENTER YOUR PODS. THE SIMULATION IS STARTING. ATTENTION, ATTENTION-"

A mechanical voice, which told Sae that a droid was serving as the announcer, told the Etti (and the others present in the gallery) that the simulation was about to begin. Sae was mildly impressed by the technology on display. She didn't know, or at least hadn't heard of anyone having this level of simulation at their disposal. Peering down into the viewing monitor Sae read that the simulator belonged to a company called " N&Z Umbrella Corporation ".

It was her first time hearing about the company, and it wouldn't be the last time Sae would hear about them either.

Vūm's star gleamed with malevolence in the shine of holograms and artificial lighting.

Victport Graras said:
"Considering who you represent, there are many in this room who consider you a traitor and an enemy. I consider those who do so to be complete and utter fools. Would you agree?"

Sae's eyes narrowed furiously. She was about to turn and respond when another much larger man interjected before Sae could retort.

The Lord of Hunger said:
"Since she has the backing of many a financial group with ties to the N&Z, this means she is also tied and connected to myself... is that not enough validation... or do you think any of those in Mahporeem are willing to openly turn on the N&Z?"

Financial group. Vūm, maybe?

The flash of anger subsided as L.O.H spoke with Garas. She needn't interrupt the man as he seemed to try and intimidate Mahporeem's High Commander on her behalf.

R'ayne Asara · Aug 27, 2026

viewing gallery

weapon: Draconic Scourge
outfit: X™
tag(s):

Sae ...

Victport Graras

I let the High Commander's words settle into the air like incense before a funeral pyre, my lips curving into the faintest suggestion of amusement.

Scientific potential.

Such a sterile phrase for the things that slept beneath the Outer Rim; things buried beneath worlds, civilizations, and histories that had long since forgotten the names of their architects. Ruisito had already proven what could be unearthed when one possessed the patience to cut through the corpse of history and examine what remained beneath its ribs.

I inclined my head toward

Victport Graras , my eyes lingering upon him for a moment. “Disappointment,” I said, my voice soft as the whisper of something ancient stirring beneath a dead world, “is a luxury I have never afforded those who place their trust in me.”

I lifted a glass from a passing service droid, studying the dark red liquid within it like a prophecy written in blood, before adding, “You will find, High Commander, that those who recommend me rarely understand what it is they have truly unleashed.”

Then movement caught my attention. Two figures approached to meet our newly appointed High Commander. One,

Sae , unknown to me, her presence another unrecorded variable in this gathering of ambitious creatures, and the other a face I recognized immediately.

Illithor Du'thra . Shipwright. Engineer. Architect of that magnificent vessel born from the recent Mahporeem contest; a machine of such exquisite brutality that I had found myself wholly, almost embarrassingly, enamored with it, though I would never reveal it to the engineer.

I offered them both a restrained nod, acknowledging without surrendering the scrutiny of my gaze.

I watched High Commander

Victport Graras seize his drink and address

Sae with a candor that bordered upon provocation.

A traitor.

An enemy.

Then the atmosphere changed.

The Lord of Hunger arrived, and with him came the peculiar sensation that something ancient had entered the conversation wearing the skin of a civilized man.

Fools, he called those who believed it. My brow rose slightly at the declaration, though I remained silent. Then

The Lord of Hunger 's soft chuckle slipped into the conversation like a knife beneath the ribs, questioning whether such a judgment condemned half the High Commander's own council.

Ah. There it was, the inevitable rot beneath every declaration of loyalty. I turned my eyes toward the

The Lord of Hunger as his deep, rasping laughter rolled through the gallery, his berrywine held with almost ceremonial ease. His words regarding the financial groups tied to the N&Z were more revealing than he perhaps intended.

Money was never merely money. It was influence given a currency, allegiance disguised as investment, and fear wearing the mask of prudence. I slowly rotated my glass between my fingers, watching the dark red liquid cling to its walls like fresh blood.

"How wonderfully and simply put,

The Lord of Hunger ," I said before taking a small pull of my drink.

Prystill Oasay · Aug 27, 2026

Objective: II - VIEWING GALLERY
Location: Simulation Chambers, Cophrigin V
Outfit: Ministerial Uniform
Tags: