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Dominion Core Summit - Ep1 [GE Dominion of Fenris]



Much has happened since our punitive campaign on Cademimu V,
Much and more, to say the least.

But with more yet expected on the horizon,

Necessity calls on the attendance of the Imperial Ruling Council.

The Grand-Vizier, Shannic Wulf Shannic Wulf , will personally call to reconvene, and finally, on Coruscantine ground. Attendance, therefore, will be mandatory for all planetary governors and high-political officials, thus the Emperor's right hand will accept no weak excuse for abstention.

Good fortune will invite no hubris, not in this growing realm.


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Here we stand, on ground once consecrated by the great Darth Sidious in ancient times, now the domain of the Dark Voice, the Sith'ari, the great Emperor - SOLIPSIS.
Alas, before anyone can ascertain the fate and direction of the realm, one small matter has since come to the Grand-Vizier's attention, a concern of authority to which it's problem element will answer, via Holoprojection. As it just so happens that the Mawsworn Khanate (in their haste to utilise resources from the Unknown Region) have created a troubling precedent in the wake of their hasty, mulish expansion toward the borders of other key-player factions, made all the more difficult for us by the fact they unfurled Galactic-Imperial colours specifically. Their chosen sector, and coincidentally it's largest planet, was Fenris; an odd choice for St. Thomas Barran St. Thomas Barran , considering it's status as a frontier system, but only without it's mining potential factored into the discussion.

It is understandable that many would have questions for the Khan, and even more-so to the fact we're forced to discuss policies of expansionist authority, and hopefully, provided the right momentum is made, we can make sense of the situation. We teeter too close, and too soon, to our opposition, but if we get to the bottom of the matter, perhaps we may yet find our own means of asserting authority where it matters. We have much and more to discuss on the issue, but with the Khan's assured cooperation, we may also find a means of steering hordes in the right direction, away from frontiers too volatile to support their presence.

Yet still, we know there is more, much more that has transpired since the greatest of Imperial achievements, and with a fallen rival as reference, the time for further plans is nigh at hand. After all, whenever the Galaxy's key-player collapses, the power-vacuum it leaves in it's wake is nothing short of cataclysmic, and if the Galactic Empire falls prey to it's own success, we may yet fall prey to civilisation's sickness in due course.
The realm needs coordination, cooperation, now more than ever, and if we are to have a hope of surviving the impending storm, Imperial cohesion must improve, and to exponential, contrasting extreme to the morsels we offer now.

The very air itself is changing, and the wind, as we know, turns violently as it changes direction, and as we know, the future itself is a raging whirlwind. Presenting only two options for prolonged success, we either gain a headstart on the mayhem, or we find a way to wield it, and for as long as we stand to capitalise on our advantages, it stands to reason that this doctrinal path should be chosen among the realm's political class. Much more is expected to be voiced in the wake of commencement, all of which will be debated sooner or later, but the aforementioned imperative will naturally take precedence.

If you have a brazen, outspoken voice, this would be the best time to use it,
you won't know what sticks if you don't take the Dais.



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K E Y - I S S U E S

Main Priority
  • Questions for the Khan
  • Governance Allocation for Fenris
  • Grand Strategy Doctrine
  • Warfighting Doctrine
  • Enemy Threat-Levels
Secondary Priority
  • Education/Reeducation
  • Mining/Manufacturing Assurances
  • Border Safety
  • Internal Affairs

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Domaric Mordane stepped out of the shuttle and into the cool afternoon air of Imperial Center. The great towers of the palace complex rose ahead of him, gold and slate and obsidian, sharp against the sun. The plaza was quiet except for the cadence of boots and the muffled hum of repulsors. Victory had returned to the Empire in the most ironic of ways. The Alliance had broken the siege at Artisia, shattered the Death Star’s escorts and proclaimed triumph. Yet their triumph had drained them of everything. Their ships were gone. Their reserves were gone. Their government was gone. In the ashes of that last assault, the Empire’s path to uncontested authority had opened when it was supposed to have been slammed shut.

They did not waste the opportunity.

Imperial forces had surged into the vacuum the Alliance left behind. Remnant cells were hunted down in weeks. The last of their bastions on the Coreward frontier fell without ceremony. Their leaders scattered. Their fleets disintegrated. What had once been a three-front struggle became a single procession. Even now the Holonet networks were being reconnected, regional commands realigned, governors reinstated. The Empire was stitching itself together with a confidence it had not felt in decades. The galaxy's largest democracy was dead.

Mordane did not smile, but his eyes lingered on the statues lining the approach to the palace. The old heroes. The young martyrs. The monuments to victories that had once seemed unrepeatable. Now he was being summoned to help shape the next era. An Imperial era.

He passed through the perimeter gates. Honor guards snapped to attention. Servitors bowed their heads. Every gesture reinforced a truth that had grown clearer with each passing day. The war was ending. The reconstruction was beginning. Soon the Empire would face its fractured kin in the Confederation and the Diarchy, and eventually the Blackwall that muttered in the dark of the Outer Rim. But not yet. There was a brief moment where the Empire could set the terms of its rebirth.

That was what he intended to seize.

The palace interior swallowed him in its cool vaults and soft light. The air carried incense and the distant echo of formal procession. Political officials, moffs, governors, and admirals had been arriving since dawn. Not to report on failure. Not to receive punishment. To receive assignment. Direction. A new order was taking shape behind these walls, and Mordane knew precisely the part he meant to claim.

Education. Training. Social formation. The Empire had long treated these as tools that existed in isolation, scattered between ministries and commands. In the aftermath of Artisia, that fragmentation was no longer tolerable. A people that had nearly fractured needed a single foundation. A single curriculum. A single voice speaking to them from childhood through service.

He would be that voice.

As he approached the great audience hall, the doors parted and a breath of cool air washed over him. He paused at the threshold just long enough to take in the sight of the assembled elite, each one waiting to see what the Grand Vizier and the Emperor's inner circle intended for the new age. Most of them he did not know, nor did he know their intention. But his was simple. He had come to claim the future.

THE IMPERIAL RULING COUNCIL
 




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[]


Objective: Secondary Priority - Education / Internal Affairs
Tag: Open

The Taciturnitas, that bore Darth Keres, descended through the smog-choked upper atmosphere like a silent omen, its darkened hull swallowing the city lights that dared touch it. No engines roared, no warning lights flashed, only a low, almost subsonic hum pulsed from its frame, a sound felt more in bone than ear.

When it settled upon the landing dais outside the Assembly Hall, the fog curled toward it as if drawn by a predator's breath. The ramp extended with ceremonial slowness, exhaling a cold draft that made the nearby guards stiffen. And from that mechanical maw stepped Darth Keres, robes trailing like spilled ink, her presence bending the air with the heavy gravity of unspoken judgment.

Darth Keres entered the Assembly Hall like a shadow that had grown tired of clinging to walls and decided instead to walk among the living. The vast doors groaned open before her, exhaling their carved reliefs, as every footstep she took upon the marble floor rang with a stark, judicial clarity.

Cloaked in black and sable robes and the cold inevitability of authority, she advanced without hurry, without acknowledgement, a quiet blade sliding into the heart of political theater, one that promised to cut deeper than any debate dared.

Inside, the vast chamber thrummed with political tension; ministers whispered in wary clusters, advisors clutched datapads like talismans, and rival delegations tracked every shifting power current as though trying to read a storm. Darth Keres took her seat with deliberate ease, the chair seeming suddenly too small for the authority it now held.

From behind an emotionless face she regarded the gathered assembly: the ambitious, the afraid, the corrupt, and the devout. Each face reflected in her eyes like an insect pinned beneath glass. She lingered on them one by one, cataloging motives, weighing alliances, tasting the faint metallic tang of their unspoken fears. Picking her prey.





 

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Imperial Centre, Corusca sector.
Tags: St. Thomas Barran St. Thomas Barran | Shannic Wulf Shannic Wulf | Domaric Mordane Domaric Mordane | Darth Keres Darth Keres




"...Though this belief serves as the foundation of the Church of the Dark Side, a deeply important element of Galactic Imperial society, the basis of society itself comes from conscious imitation of Sheev Palpatine's Galactic Empire. Darth Solipsis's new incarnation of the Galactic Empire deliberately adopted the aesthetic of this centuries-old imperium, from stormtroopers to star destroyers and beyond, and the Office of Imperial Truth went into overtime to portray the period of its rule as a lost golden age of security and stability that now returns to the galaxy. Of course, the only real link between the two is broad Sith and Imperial ideology..."
-- Excerpts from a dossier about Galactic Imperial Society describing the modern day Galactic Empire.




Denial.

A quaint word. Specific, and to the point.

There is an old saying that feels lost today, but perhaps now, with a new era, and promises fulfilled, the old ways will resurface so as to appear new and found again. Vireth remembers the saying written somewhere in the old texts stored in her library at the place she calls home out there in the great city close by. In the passages, where she had read descriptions about the neo-Imperials of the Final Dawn, back when they had traversed in the shadows of the Brotherhood of Maw, a saying that had been passed down through the generations. It went something like this:

The victors choose.

The sycophants out there in the Ash Worlds were declaring a momentous victory at Atrisia but it might as well be a lie compared to the exonerated truth of what they had accomplished since Cato Neimoidia. But these lies hold nothing against the immeasurable truth: that an alliance, which had spanned throughout the galaxy, was dead and it was by their doing. With their defeat came the spoils of war, and the Jewel of the Core is theirs, and with it the galaxy beckons before them-- heralding their coming upon a rechristened Imperial Centre.

That is the truth, and so they must deny it.

That there was no Death Star.

The Church of the Dark Side teaches their followers the simple maxim of absolution, and Vireth of Kuat has been a long time follower of their verse. Adolescence was a ritual rite in which the truthes of the galaxy was taught, and bared, for a reason. It is the one constant that serenates those who follow the dark-side and she is a devouted follower. Losing is for the weak, and so they must deny their enemies.

All of them.

Sularen, and those who had tried to stop their Imperial March, played no part in the destruction of such a weapon for it had never existed in the first place. Their lies, voiced loudest by an expat of the Dark Empire, who lost his faith and vision-- a traitor, in summary-- must be displaced, and instead replaced by the constant that all their enemies know in their hearts, and must feel the great burden upon their backs, as an Iron Sun threatens to set upon their decadent, ruined star systems heralding the rebirth of civilization in the wake of the Galactic Alliance's great loss and fall.

They are the winners of the Great Core Wars. That is it. The only thing that matters is that, and with that, they must deny.

This is what they must choose today.

It was from but a dream that the most devout lingered in those dark recesses out there in the void, in the places between worlds, when civilization had been toppled, for a time, and was replaced by a meagre, decadent, pale imitation of itself that had been buried beneath the corruption of the Jedi for over half-a-century. The Emperor's chosen had decided then that he had not lost, after the hyperspace wars, and from there his gospel had been spread far and wide to bring the likes of Ignacious Korvan into the fold on Carlac to do his bidding, and so they had made them heroes for it. Victors.

They are liberators of the Core, not tyrants. Saviours, not conquerors.

So they have to deny so that the victors can choose the truth, and by God's grace vengeance will come to the unbelievers in kind for what they had done at Atrisia. The great cartographer, Titus Mori, has declared what the galaxy shall look like, when the work is done, and so there is no room but to deny it. Denial is the Architect's verse, and so she must make them see. Our time has come.

As Vireth took her seat inside the chamber, and quietly collected her thoughts, she does not share the acknowledgements of General Mordane, for she is a victor, and she has chosen what really happened on that day of days. Among maxims and teachings, study and devout belief, the code stands above all else, and it reads true as it always has done throughout the eons since the days that the Sith stood in the dirt. You can read it on her back, down near the navel, in the bottom text inscribed into the skin.

The Force has freed them, and the victors have gathered to choose what it is next.
Firstly, the Core, and now, everything else.

For the Chosen One, the heralded coming of the great Sith'ari, who consecrated this Earth on Imperial Centre.
Solipsis.



 
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Minister of Resource Exploitation



The Minister of Resource Exploitation shifted in his seat as he watched others enter the council chambers. He poured over his datapad, filled to the brim with the numbers that painted an unfortunate picture of the Empire in the wake of the Core Wars. A victory, yes, but at what cost? His ministry's findings told a grim tale of deficits caused by the construction of the Death Star, and though denying its existence had become the main media line it left a great void in the funds of the Empire. He anxiously wondered if all that he'd spoken of to the Director of Science would be aired today.

He wondered even more pressingly if any of the Empire's corporate representatives would show up. They would certainly have demands to be made after all their investments blew up over Atrisia. With the occupation of Fenris underway, Okono was fretting over what yet another entrenched corporate planet would add to the fire burning in the Empire. Some things needed to be settled, that much was obvious. How much further would the Empire indulge its resident companies... and what could be done without them. His ministry had just reached an upsetting impasse with Kuat Drive Yards. He could no longer provide the amount of necessary raw materials, and they could no longer produce ships and vehicles without them. The plan to rectify this, which he would be presenting today, was ambitious... but he believed it might be the Empire's best and only shot.
 

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Imperial Centre, Corusca sector.
Tags: St. Thomas Barran St. Thomas Barran | Shannic Wulf Shannic Wulf | Domaric Mordane Domaric Mordane | Darth Keres Darth Keres | Okono Dukkha Okono Dukkha |




"...The success of these New Sith has been their adaptability and devotion to the Grand Plan as well as their strict adherence to the Code of the Sith. Their presence is felt everywhere, they are shadows that blend into influential bodies with the goal of corruption from within..."
-- Excerpts describing the New Sith Order.




They were the silent partner amid Imperial doctrine and zealotry. The quiet influencers, practitioners, and movers of the cause. From their work and toil a resurgent power (millennia old, according to the written history they had recovered) had been formed so as to appear new and found again at the turn of this tenth century. Sheev Palpatine would not have approved of their work, Ayra thought. The zealots within have toasted his name and have subsequently anointed their predecessor as a prophet who foretold the coming of the Sith'ari and his Galactic Empire, but the Sith know better.

To be an individual such as they is to focus on the self, and not others, so she did not think the man who had once claimed the mantle of Galactic Emperor would have shared the same sentiments being thrown about his name all of this time later. Still, there is something to be acknowledged from the past as they embark into newer paradigms, and they were proven to be most useful in the cause. In spite of the Four Hundred Year Darkness, where the galaxy was plunged into an era of loss, and where records were either lost, or expunged, the heralding of a New Order had survived plague, famine and war which saw to the rise of this new galactic power found in the Core Worlds, and they were set to march upon the stars, guided by the hands of these new Sith intertwined among them.

Palpatine had once said that an age of a thousand-years peace was upon them. Lies can get you anywhere if they are told to the right people, and places.

It has been two years since the summit on Bogan, where the Dark Side Elite had come into contact with a Sith Lord who had called herself Darth Ayra, and out there, in the Outer Rim systems, the Empire of the Lost fell into economic ruin in accordance to what had been said in the dark on that day. Ever since the conspiracy continues to take shape out there, and it now draws the Imperial Confederation (who succeeded the Lost-Imperial bloc mired by the Fifth Wing) towards the enemy laying beyond the Blackwall. It is in accordance to her designs, and now in league with those who conquered the Galactic Alliance.

More strings and levers require to be pulled, out-strung and lifted, Ayra knows, if they are to accomplish what only one of them has done before. Unlike Palpatine, Ayra felt that Bane would approve of this work, for in many ways they were woven into his tapestry, and in others they were not. Indeed, the Dark Side of the Force is a convoluted, murky thing to understand, but its followers endure it, and the Force is theirs to command at will. Terrible things were amok now that the alliance is gone.

So, a quiet partner takes their seat at the table, and she is awfully, terribly silent. She is a listener, a influencer, and a manipulator. Conceited as they come, and cares only for the self-- a participant not out of loyalty, or cause, but for self gratification and vengeance against the Dark Lords of the Sith of the past. Pushing men, and women towards what she wants is what Darth Ayra does best. In league with the designs of Solipsis, the master of the New Sith, and new Emperor of the Galaxy, atop a seat set to reign across the known cosmos.

Plans intertwined within plans, within plans, within plans...



 
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Objective: Secondary Priority - Education / Internal Affairs
Tag: Vireth Vireth / Okono Dukkha Okono Dukkha / Darth Ayra Darth Ayra

The Assembly Hall lay steeped in somber hush, its vaulted pillars rising like petrified giants as Darth Keres watched two Government Representatives of Internal Affairs slip through the grand doors. Their steps were brisk but careful, betraying the unease that clung to them as the shadows seemed to regard their arrival with a sentience of their own.

Darth Keres sat motionless at first, her presence bending the chill air around her like a distortion in reality, her eyes transfixed on the new arrivals. With a slow, deliberate grace, she moved toward them, the soft cadence of her boots echoing like a heartbeat in a crypt. When she reached them, she inclined her head just enough to make the gesture feel ceremonial, the pale edge of her expression sharp in the dim light. "I am Darth Keres," she said, her voice smooth as coarse dust. "Welcome to the Assembly Hall."

The two representatives exchanged a quick, almost nervous glance before stepping forward, their own boots tapping against the black marble floor as though wary of waking something beneath it. The elder of the pair, a man with a thin scar tracing the line of his jaw, was the first to speak. He introduced himself with bureaucratic precision, voice steady but carrying the tautness of someone aware they were addressing a figure more associate than colleague. His counterpart, a woman with stern eyes and fingers clenched a little too tightly around her datapad, followed suit.

"Darth Keres," the man said, allowing the name to settle like drifting ash, "we would like to hear your perspective, if you may, on the current state of Imperial Internal Affairs." Though he attempted a confident stance, the faint tremor in his stance betrayed the truth: they stood before her not merely as officials, but supplicants before a deeper power.

The woman stepped in, her tone edges with carefully measured resolve, though her eyes flickered with something more fragile.
“We are conducting a departmental review ahead of these proceedings,” she explained, words clipped by tension. “If there are processes you believe falter, or elements within Internal Affairs that require reform, your guidance would be invaluable.” Her breath seemed to frost slightly in the cold air, though that may have been the illusion of Darth Keres’s oppressive stillness.

Both representatives waited; rigid, expectant, their shadows cowering behind them as though the wrong question might summon something terrible from the corners of the hall. Their inquiry hung between them like a suspended noose, and for a moment the entire chamber seemed to lean inward, eager to hear what truths or condemnations she might unleash.

When she spoke, her voice drifted like a cold current; soft, unhurried, yet burdened with a weight that pressed against their composure.
"Reform," she began, letting the syllables echo as though she were summoning something from beneath the floors. "There are those that speak of tightening protocols, of refining oversight. But tell me, how does one mend a structure whose foundations may have already begun to rot from procrastination?"

She moved a step closer, the faintest rustle of her cloak reminiscent of old parchment crumbling in a long-sealed vault. "The Empire does not need gentler hands," she continued, "it needs truer ones. Hands unafraid to expose what festers and to cut it out before it grows bold."

One representative swallowed, the sound loud in the oppressive quiet, while the other clutched their datapad as if numbers could offer sanctuary. Darth Keres shook her head, the shadows deepening at her back as though answering her thoughts. "If you seek reform," she said, voice narrowing to a blade's sharpened edge, "let it be a cleansing that leaves no recess for treachery to breed."

A shift in the air drew Darth Keres's gaze toward the towering entrance of the Assembly Hall. There, in the threshold of the Hall's grand doors, a lone Government Representative of the Empire's Education Department stepped inside, their posture stiff with equal parts purpose and apprehension. Darth Keres's eyes narrowed, gleaming like cold embers beneath a funeral veil, for she recognized the scent of new intentions entering her domain.

With a slow incline of her head, she turned back to the two Internal Affairs officials. "You will excuse me," she murmured, her voice slipping over them like the hush of a closing coffin lid. "Another matter seeks my attention."

The representatives stiffened, relief and dread warring silently across their faces as she drifted away from them, her cloak trailing behind her like the departure of night itself, toward the newest soul who had stepped, perhaps unwisely, into her shadowed sphere.




 

City Gatehouse, Caryn,
Fenris, Core Colonies (903 ABY)


And so the inquest begins.
They'll learn soon why that was ill-advised.

Now, I can make that one perfect request, the one thing they know they can't refuse.

Sitting in the lookout-perch that served as his makeshift bedroom, with windows shut to the mirky, dim-lit world,"Outside", the Khan was broadcasting his presence to his appointed Holographic plinth on Coruscant. The Mawsworn Khanate's personal OIT-attaché (through flustered, huffing redness of the face) had been especially vocal on the fact this was, by no means, to be a normal summit experience for the one-eyed Woad, going on to groan of his poor luck in being appointed to allies of the sort. Fortunately for the Heathen Saint, however, his attache would relent enough to reveal some supremely-telling details along the way, useful for circumstances that Barran knew he would need to delegate carefully.

Without his attaché there, and living, St. Thomas would never have known that he was the only Holographic projection in the room for the Ruling Council's summit, that every other face he would see would be gazing on his presence with questions of their own to offer. This would set a dynamic into play, and from the offset of commencement at that, and though this would be considered troubling for some, Barran was wise enough to know there was a small blessing in the chance to read the room. If the Khan could do so, and all before the first governor could take the Dais, then the chance of bracing in time was certainly greater than his state-appointed advisor was implying.


'We still muted?'
'Yeah, why?'
'I want you to know, now, that you'll be smiling before the Grand-Vizier announces adjournment.'
'Hmmmm.... Would believe you - but I can't hear you putting credits on the line yet.'

Finally, and for the very first time, the Khan finally broke through that wall-like veneer of impatient authority, making the seemingly-long wait seem like a short, choppy approach to proceedings, a welcome change of pace between men who had mostly resented each other until that one, uncannily curious moment. Beyond that moment, the only thing they needed to do was face forward, and to wait for the hailing beep as the summit's hall filled out on the other end, leaving plenty room for goading higher numbers between perpetual gamblers - the easiest thing in life for men of the sort to endeavour.

'Better be good for it, Pirate.'
'Already am, an' you've got none but broken Jedi to thank for it.... Let the games begin.'



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St. Thomas Barran St. Thomas Barran Okono Dukkha Okono Dukkha Domaric Mordane Domaric Mordane Shannic Wulf Shannic Wulf Reiner Ghadi Reiner Ghadi Vireth Vireth Darth Keres Darth Keres

Aggadeen's demeanor was unpleasant upon receiving the report about the destruction of the Death Star III above the Planet Atrisia. It was hardly a victorious day for the Galactic Empire, as the annihilation of the station reverberated through the Imperial Market, leading to a significant decline in confidence regarding the anticipated restoration of normalcy following the excessive regulation imposed by the Galactic Alliance.

At the very least, that meddlesome democratic state was eradicated following a significant defeat in orbit. However, there was a far more concerning issue that the Imperial Ruling Council would probably not overlook: the coalition between the Sith Order and the Mandalorian Empire.

He would reach out to his associate Shuklaar Kyrdol Shuklaar Kyrdol at a later date to reconfirm the Empire's financial obligations. It would be unwise for them to deny payment due to their own misjudgments regarding the expenses associated with the Death Star III and the implications of its destruction. It is possible that, over time, the Mandalorian could be convinced to address the gaps in the Imperial frontier, at least until the economy recovers.

"I do not need to remind this body that our most potent superweapon has been vaporized through the combine efforts of a unlikely Galactic Coalition. Though the Galactic Alliance has been defeated, three opponents still remain. the Sith Order, the Mandalorian Empire and the Imperial Confederation. They will undoubtedly seek to exploit our present vulnerabilities." Aggadeen started to explain with a somber tone, intertwining his gloved fingers on the table.

He believed it was somewhat unnecessary to state the obvious, yet it was essential for someone to officially clarify that the present circumstances were grave and that the Empire was at risk. He wished to dispel any false notions that they remained powerful after enduring such a humiliating defeat when all the cards had been in their favor.

 
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"Superweapon?" Mordane's voice cut cleanly across the chamber before Aggadeen could continue. He did not raise it. He simply let the question land like a weight on polished stone. "Minister Myi, the Empire lost no such superweapon."

He held Myi's gaze a fraction longer than necessary, a small, deliberate signal that this was theater, not contradiction. His step forward was slow and balanced, hands clasped behind him, posture perfectly measured. His gaze moved across the table, settling on each official long enough to enforce stillness. "These rumors of a 'Death Star' being destroyed at Artisia do not originate from any credible record. They originate from lower-class speculation, smuggler gossip, unvetted holos, and sectors where the Office of Imperial Truth has proven either unwilling or unable to enforce a coherent narrative."

Mordane's tone stayed almost conversational. "If our citizens believe that the Empire fielded a war-engine the size of a small moon and then allowed it to be destroyed by a government that no longer exist, that is not a failure of the military. That is a failure of instruction. That is a failure of curriculum. That is a failure." His eyes flicked toward Myi once more, a quiet prompt. "And if the markets are trembling, Minister, it is because democratic terrorists and their sympathizers continue to sabotage stability while we rebuild. Not because of phantom superweapons or fabricated defeats." He let the words settle, flat and cold. "I believe I speak for the entire Council when I say the Empire cannot tolerate these false narratives."

He drew a breath, shifting tone without softening it. "Which is why the response must be decisive. The estates, trusts, and financial instruments of Alliance collaborators remain scattered. Their holdings still distort markets. Their foundations still influence local cultures. Their corporations still operate in a way that undermines the unity we require." He let the severity sharpen into clarity. "We should seize the remainder of their assets. Convert them into government-owned enterprises. Allow them to fill the treasury while stabilization proceeds. Turn the remnants of treason into instruments of reconstruction."

Only then did he broaden the subject, letting the material logic flow into ideological necessity. "But confiscation alone will not correct the deeper fracture. Our doctrines are all divided across ministries that no longer serve the Empire's needs. If we are to rebuild with consistency and authority, every educational, vocational, and military institution must be consolidated into a single apparatus. One curriculum. One philosophy. One Imperial identity."

His voice lowered, steady and exact. "This is how we stop rumor from becoming history. This is how we prevent sabotage from becoming truth. This is how we build a people who cannot be turned by lies because they were never given space for lies to grow."

 
✠ Draconis Nihilus Indomitus ✠

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LORD INDOMITUS
Through Fire and Blood.
Through Justice and Strength.
On the Anvil of War, We forge our Destiny.

Domaric Mordane Domaric Mordane | Aggadeen Myi Aggadeen Myi | Okono Dukkha Okono Dukkha | St. Thomas Barran St. Thomas Barran |
Darth Keres Darth Keres | Vireth Vireth | Open



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LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE

Imperial Center | Imperial Palace | Council Chambers

Imperius entered the council chambers. Pristine in armor and surcoat, He was a god of war in black, red and gold, the mighty Valoris hanging at His side with a bare hand resting on the pommel. An empty expression sat upon the face of the Pureblood, the obsidian black hair neatly tied back and the eyes scanning the room. Engaging in few interactions, the Zakuulan moved in measured steps across the room, exchanging rare tokens of respect and acknowledgement with select military commanders and civil officials.

A brief statement of Myi opened the debate and floor. And was followed right up by Mordane.

One of the few individuals that were to come in here and actually had something to say, that were interesting and valid to listen to. The General was sensible, pragmatic and realistic. An imperial by heart and not entirely brainwashed into a bootlicking lackey in this realm of cronies and fanatics.

"The forging of strong institutions based on a united foundation of imperial supremacy and order is necessary to lay the groundworks for our Empire to endure."

"Overcoming the failures and mistakes of past Empires is imperative for our own survival and endurance. Whether we claim heritage or not to certain deviations in philosophy - we are a successor of the Palpatine's Empires, of Fel's Empires and of the Sith Empires."

"And despite history laying bare obvious flaws that should be avoided, we already engage in similar errors that require correction. General Mordane is highlighting the very essence of what we require: a singular imperial doctrine, an imperial will, an imperial direction."

"One which is completely secularised and will persist through civil, internal, external and martial opposition. The last Empires fell because they were built upon cults of personality and upon defeating their adversaries. As soon as one was gone, the walls begun to crumble and a downfall became inevitable. The same which happened many times throughout history. And a similar approach this iteration has now chosen."

He paused. His black eyes moving from figure to figure, remaining on none in particular.

"Just as a ridiculous superweapon cannot be at many places at once, nor will an Emperor be. Star Destroyers, Stromtroopers and Moffs can, so can Imperial agents, Ministers and bureaucrats, administrators and overseers. The Empire is reigned from the top but it is not built upon the shoulders of a singular individual or a select few. We have the supremacy of order, stability and justice on our side."

"The Empire must be built upon it. Carried by it. Not by reckless endeavours and fanatical worship."

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Imperial Ruling Council

The Grand Vizier listened. That was what a ruler did best. Some confused silence with weakness, with an inability to dominate the conversation. She knew otherwise. She knew that listening allowed her to take possession of all the facts, all the avenues towards victory, all the angles with which to see the path forward. She shifted in her seat, surrouned by allies who would no doubt remove her from her position with the flick of a wrist, if it was their will and whim to do so. However, her power seemed secure, for now. She led the Emperor's administration, the day to day comings and goings of every citizen. If the Emperor was the spirit and heart of the Empire, she was its brain and nervous system. However, she was anything but nervous. She was calm. She listened to the assembled and spoke with a simple clear voice, amplified around the room.

"Minister Aggadeen, you have characterized this moment as one of loss. Before we turn to policy, I must ask a single question. What specific evidence leads you to believe that the Empire’s stability depends on any one construct rather than on the institutions that have governed it for generations? The distinction is crucial. The answer determines whether we face a crisis of perception or a crisis of structure."

She allowed that to settle before turning her attention to the general.

"Let me be clear. There is no Death Star. There was no Death Star.
The Empire has delivered a decisive and crushing blow against the Galactic Alliance, resulting in the systematic and complete collapse of their entire government. Their forces are scattered. Their resolve has blown away like dust in the wind.
The loss of any Imperial forces was given both willingly and strategically. The false-flag assault on Atrisia accomplished exactly what it was intended to achieve.
We give thanks to the Emperor for his swift and decisive planning, which has delivered victory to us all.
The Core is ours at last."


She allowed a pause, a moment for reflection, before responding to the thoughts offered by the other Council members.

"General Mordane, your analysis of rumour is precise. You have identified failures in instruction and doctrine. My question to you is this: What immediate corrective measure can be implemented within your purview to prevent misinformation from taking deeper root as we pursue long-term consolidation? The Council requires a solution that is actionable, not theoretical."
Her gaze shifted again, unhurried and steady.

"Lord Imperius, you have warned of the dangers in building power on singular figures and in the pursuit of spectacle. My question concerns endurance. If the Empire is to embody the principles you defend, what standard of conduct should we expect from our military and civic leaders in the weeks ahead? Those standards must reinforce the idea that authority rests in the State, not in personalities. Their clarity will strengthen every branch of government."

She paused, then addressed the entire chamber.

"To the members of this Council, I pose a final question. Are we prepared to speak with one voice, to present a unified message to the public, and to commit to a doctrine that will guide our institutions through this period of reconstruction? Affirmation requires discipline. Indecision will fracture us. The Empire can withstand threats from without. It cannot withstand incoherence within."

She lowered her hands to the table, signaling that the focus now belonged to the room itself.
"The answers to these questions will determine our course. Let us proceed with clarity."



Domaric Mordane Domaric Mordane | Aggadeen Myi Aggadeen Myi | Okono Dukkha Okono Dukkha | St. Thomas Barran St. Thomas Barran | Darth Keres Darth Keres | Vireth Vireth
 



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Hearing the inevitable denials of the existence of the Death Star was... expected. Painful... desperate... idiotic, even... but expected. Reiner had spent enough time in the intelligence community to know how their game worked. They would continue to 'persevere' under the guise of greater growth, but he knew better...

He should... his department had a huge hand in building the Emperor's superweapon. Denying the failure of that stratagem was par for the course within Imperial ranks, yes. But he knew... and those that worked under him knew...

But he wasn't here to question public rhetoric.

As he entered the room, his eyes immediately darted to the gaze of Okono Dukkha Okono Dukkha . Their recent talks had proven to be potentially fruitful, or at least, Reiner hoped as much.

He finally took his opportunity to puff his proverbial chest out, drawing upon his former experience within the Alliance senate as he chose to spoke.

"We speak of progress... of missteps... of whatever may or may not have happened. All hypotheticals, from any angle..."

He let the words linger in the air for a moment.

"The OIS relies on data. Nothing more, nothing less. Whatever ideals we may hold ourselves dear to, none can outperform the sheer truth of raw data."

He resituated himself for a moment before continuing.

"There are clear ways to move forward, and yes, it requires unification..."

He shot a look to the Grand Vizier.

"But also, it requires practicality and clarity."

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✠ Draconis Nihilus Indomitus ✠

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LORD INDOMITUS
Through Fire and Blood.
Through Justice and Strength.
On the Anvil of War, We forge our Destiny.

Shannic Wulf Shannic Wulf | Domaric Mordane Domaric Mordane | Aggadeen Myi Aggadeen Myi | Okono Dukkha Okono Dukkha | St. Thomas Barran St. Thomas Barran |
Darth Keres Darth Keres | Vireth Vireth | Open



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LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE

Imperial Center | Imperial Palace | Council Chambers

"Generations, Grand Vizier? This Empire's iteration has barely existed for one - including the abandoned attempt founded on Carlac. Overestimation and grand speak will not carry us through a future of trial, error and hardship."

He offered coldly, full well aware of the tension that might exist between those that simply ran away from the Dark Empire because their idol did and then return to reclaim higher purpose together with their . . . saviour.

"We should make quite the opposite clear: there was a Death Star. There was a military defeat over Atrisia. The Alliance choked on their victory - let the powers of the Galaxy see and hear what happens when they win a single battle, let them be aware of the loss it takes to achieve victory against our realm. We are not dealing with children, so we should not act like children and serve petty lies. Every victory our enemies achieve will bring them closer to destruction - not us."

"The truth is a weapon we can utilise. Our military still achieves our strategic goals - even in defeat. We bring stability through justice, we bring prosperity through infrastructure and oversight, we bring order through discipline. These are not ideals that need to be hidden behind a poorly raised curtain of petty propaganda and lies."

"Once we are able to decisively use this, our enemies will have a much harder time recognising when we actually deceive, when we lie and when we plan. We require no secrecy for our agenda. We have purity of purpose, we do not need to create a web of lies around it. Set discipline, hierarchy and the advancement of the Empire as core tenets for all that claim to serve."

Imperius paused, the void-like eyes now moving towards those present that He was going to mention with His next words.

"This is the standard I would set. Further I would dissolve the Church, purge any remnants of the Maw and integrate the Dark Side Elite into the regular power structure and hierarchy of the Empire. We serve the Empire. We serve the Imperial cause. We require neither religion nor ambiguous positions among our ranks to make rule, administration, command and oversight more difficult. No barbarians of a bygone marauder host. And neither we, nor the people of the Galaxy, require some forced lecture on the validty of Sith ideals and preaching mongrels roaming about. War is our instrument of order through which we realise our purpose. Not religion."

"Only if the Empire evolves from the mindless worship, an ignorant propaganda apparatus, ridiculous superweapons and dedicates itself to true Imperial pragmatism, nationalism and militarism, we will endure and grow beyond what came before."

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Lurking in the shadows of the conference chamber, he circled the room like a shark tasting blood in the water. This kind of council was exactly why Darth Vinaze had been hesitant to lend his power to the Empire, the same reason he had betrayed the Tenth Sith Empire. Bickering fools aplenty. Imperialism was an ideology that somehow clung to life after all these years, upheld by visionaries and dreamers who might have, without even knowing it, come close to the philosophy of the Sith. Now they were intertwined again, and this time, it appeared to be working. The New Sith Order had sacrificed their Banite ideals in favour of a populist movement, yes... but in return they had achieved what neither the Tenth nor Eleventh Sith Empire could. That was because Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis was a visionary. It seemed very clear to Vinaze that the man now taking the floor was not.

The Prophet emerged from shadows over the shoulder of the Grand Vizier, filling the room with a chill. From his long, flowing burgundy robe he raised a pale white, gnarled finger at Imperius Indomitus Imperius Indomitus .

"You speak... but your words mean nothing, like a baby's babble. You wax grandiose about the things we should do away with, and yet you give us nothing for the future but vague promises of strength. That which you propose is what unwound the New Imperial Order at its seams in the first place. Imperial Pragmatism is a meaningless phrase. The Empire has tried to distance itself from the guiding hand of the Sith, and it failed. In their darkest hours those Imperials rushed back into the arms that they had fought so desperately to be free from. What is more pragmatic than to dominate the hearts and minds of a civilization? We have given them contentment, security, and unwavering faith. The masses would eat you alive if it were not for the Church of the Dark Side, whose rites have made us gods to be revered instead of demons to be shunned. The citizens of the Empire only respect the Sith because we have taught them how. While you wage war, 'tis we who keep the people docile, and it is not truth that we wield to do so. I suggest you sit down, my lord, before you embarrass this council any further with your heresy."

Vinaze lowered his accusatory finger, standing like a statue over Shannic, a reminder that the Emperor's will was still manifest in this room. The Prophet would keep his eye on this warlord. He had betrayed the Empire once, and his name now rested atop a list for Vinaze's secret agents...
 
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Information
Minister of Intelligence, Director of SHADES, Torture & Interrogation Officer
"Galactic Common" | <"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

Objective: Monitoring the situation
Location: Imperial Ruling Council
Equipment: White uniform | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit || Empyrean gland || OPBC-01m



Ella remained in the shadows for the time being, choosing not to step forward; the Minister of Intelligence did exactly what was expected of someone in such a position. She lingered among the darkness without revealing herself, all the while observing those present and listening to the discussion. She had had excellent teachers for this; the Nite had trained her well, and she could now make full use of those lessons. Though she had never held a leadership role within the family organisation, perhaps one day she would. But for now… the Galactic Empire was far more important.

She simply listened as the moffs and ministers argued with one another, counting the possibilities and analysing them in silence. So far, nothing had compelled her to intervene. She shared the view that there had been no Death Star, no superweapon. She accepted the defeat and would not have denied it, but even that had its purpose; after all, they had lost a battle, not the war. And, above all, they had proven that they could defy the entire galaxy if necessary.

Just like every faction ever led by Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis . Once the Maw, then the Dark Empire, and now the Galactic Empire. Nothing else truly mattered.

The woman finally raised her head when Indomitus began to speak. There were parts of his words that might have been acceptable, but the rest were not, not even to her. Claiming that the Death Star had been merely a space station and not a superweapon was not the greatest lie in the galaxy, considering they had never actually targeted the planet to destroy it. The Emperor had had different plans, and those plans belonged solely to him. She would have gladly said that fortunately, a war did not end with a single defeat, and the Empire had achieved its long-term objective. Or that the truth was whatever the Empire deemed it to be.

But before she could speak, Darth Vinaze’s voice cut through the chamber, and so she did not take that step out of the shadows, out from behind one of the hidden walls. She knew the Force Users could likely sense her presence, yet it did not bother her. She would only step forward if her mentor, the Grand Vizier, commanded it; or if she herself felt the necessity. And with her sensitivity in the Force, Ella could have tortured someone from here, still concealed, if she wished.

But the time for such action had not yet come. Now was the time for silence, observation, and analysis. And the woman, as always, was endlessly patient... and as so many times before, so very often… she waited for the right moment.

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[]


Objective: Secondary Priority - Education / Internal Affairs
Tag: Vireth Vireth / Okono Dukkha Okono Dukkha / Darth Ayra Darth Ayra

Darth Keres leaned forward, her silhouette a sharpened crescent against the illuminated-blackened walls and addressed the Representee of Education with a soft gravity that felt like velvet pressed over a blade. "Your treatises," she murmured, "bear the fragrance of order…yet order without fear is but a classroom without doors." Her voice crawled across like mist seeking ankles, curling upward. "Your Department speaks of dominion with the confidence of a crowned ghost, but dominion is nothing if it does not first chill the marrow."

From the vaulted dark of silence among the Hall, the voice of Darth Vinaze Darth Vinaze , unfurled like a crack in the Hall's ribs. The words slithered between stances, creeping hauntingly; amused, dissenting, whispering its rebuke to Imperius Indomitus Imperius Indomitus orbital stance with the tone of someone overturning a chalice simply to savor the spill. The sound echoed, soft snarls wrapped in laughter, finding pleasure in its own defiance. Darth Keres tilted her head, the faintest smile carving itself into her pallid face, as though Darth Vinaze's intrusion were a mischievous draft teasing the hem of a funeral shroud.

"Ah," she said, with a hush that trembled like the wings of a trapped bat, "our dear Darth Vinaze disagrees."

"How cute… how darkly bold."
Her eyes gleamed like wet death as she looked back to the Representee. "Education thrives on such interruptions, the kind that unsettle, the kind that bruise one's certainty. Let it be a lantern snuffed in the middle of a lesson. For in the trembling that follows," she concluded, "true understanding is born."

"You promise enlightenment, yet your halls grow dimmer with every hesitant step you take. Knowledge should stalk its pupils like a wolf in winter, but you," she whispered, each word tapping like a fingernail against a coffin lid, "you offer it as though it were warm milk meant to soothe a frightened child." Her eyes shimmered with an austere pity, the kind that invited no comfort. "If you cannot bear the weight of your own curriculum, the dark will be pleased to swallow it for you."

Through the rafters, perhaps the very marrow of the walls, Darth Vinaze's voice continued to rise in mocking musicality. Notes like funereal chimes drifted through the stale air, each a cruel commentary. "Another stance undone…another ideal collapsing like wet parchment," Darth Keres crooned, the melody both enchanting and merciless as she struggled to listen to the razor-mouth of Darth Vinaze.




 

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St. Thomas Barran St. Thomas Barran Okono Dukkha Okono Dukkha Domaric Mordane Domaric Mordane Shannic Wulf Shannic Wulf Reiner Ghadi Reiner Ghadi Vireth Vireth Darth Keres Darth Keres

Aggadeen maintained an air of composure while the Grand Vizier and council members indulged in a strategy of denial and grandstanding to impress their missing Emperor and the Imperial Government. Such illusions held no appeal for COMFEAR or the broader Imperial Treasury, who could analyze the figures meticulously and break them down to the finest detail.

Eyes shifted as Shannic Wulf Shannic Wulf asked a rather direct question, wanting to know about the specific evidence that supported the belief that the Empire's stability relies on any single construct. The rest of them spoke in order from Domaric Mordane Domaric Mordane , the supposed General and strategist. Reiner Ghadi Reiner Ghadi who seemed just as uninterested as him in propping up a false narrative since the OIS utilized raw data and not passionate speeches.

He raised a brow soon afterwards as Imperius Indomitus Imperius Indomitus and Darth Vinaze Darth Vinaze debated on the Church of the Dark Side and Imperial Pragmatism instead of blind religion. There was no need to comment on that little spat because it was not his area of expertise, though he would rebuke some of the points made by the other members of the Council in order to get them to understand that the numbers didn't lie.

"General Mordane. I value your insights regarding the challenges the Galactic Empire is currently facing. However, I must strongly advise that in the future, you hold your comments until you have accounted for your inadequate performance at the Battle of Atrisia...." He clasped his hands together, directing his full attention to Domaric Mordane Domaric Mordane , who was seated nearby as the datachip from the Imperial Fleet was inserted into the table terminals to show show his fleet in detail.

"Naval footage from my contacts in the field clearly illustrates that you deployed only a single star destroyer as the core of your fleet, along with a few support vessels, while facing the overwhelming force of the Imperial Confederation. They outgunned you ten to one. You were aware of the stakes involved, and yet you jeopardized the empire's strategic objective as a result of your actions." He expected that the General would deny this assertion, yet the footage was precise and unalterable, as it was transmitted to him right after the Imperial Navy withdrew from the battlefield. He had no reason to undermine the General's reputation within the empire, especially since they were short on seasoned officers.

This was simply a straightforward reprimand which would be followed up by the Treasurer's response to the Grand Vizier whose gaze likely never left the both of them. "Grand Vizier. With all due respect if you wish for me to burden this council with thousands of ledgers from our various archives, that I can accomplish without compliant. But we should not engage in political theater or a coverup when the Empire's solvency is at risk."

Aggadeen did not wait for a response, diving straight into the core of his well-prepared rebuke. His voice lowered slightly in tone, yet he maintained a respectful attitude towards the head of the Imperial Government, who was arguably the second most influential figure in the empire. "There is substantial evidence indicating that the construction of this station, has affected the empire. Obviously any massive expenditure of this nature is sure to impact the stability of our state, and the reality that the materials used were taken from crucial sector economies throughout our emerging Empire, disrupts local imports and exports into a disastrous state that will require months to fix." He did not want to believe that the Grand Vizier was uneducated in financial matters to such a degree that they would not understand that the evidence was overwhelming and not easy to simply gloss over when the Empire still needed to pay its bills.

He continued though only slightly more impassionate. "As for speaking with one voice that can be accomplished but I make one thing very clear, COMFEAR will not indulge in a false narrative when we have a vast amount of credit to recover."

 
Minister of Resource Exploitation


"My lords." Dukkha rose from his seat and stretch out his arms, looking between Indomitus and Vinaze, his tone measured and calm despite who he spoke to, the living symbols of fear, "this forum is not for you to squabble over matters of the Sith. It was my understanding," he eyes darted between the other Imperials in the room, subtly asking for support, "that following the decrees of Operation: Cinder, Sith matters are to be solved privately between parties and not interrupt Imperial affairs. This is a summit for discussing concrete findings, not broad philosophies. I do not wish to have to call the Emperor's Chosen to escort you both out."

"Ladies and gentlemen of the council, practicality and clarity,"
he echoed the words of the Director of Science, his newest ally. "Aggadeen speaks with his head on straight. Regardless of whether there is or ever has been an Imperial superweapons program, the truth is, councilors, that the Empire has spent an astronomical amount of resources taking and securing the Core Worlds. The IMRE has extensive documentation that can be corroborated by our counterparts in COMLIT and COMFEAR. The Imperial war-machine is quite literally running on empty. The entire strategic reserve of material resources captured from the Alliance has been used, and the demands for the front are only growing. We ought to be thankful that the very same barbarians Lord Indomitus has decried were the ones who seized the Fenris system on our behalf. The gas giant of Vánagandr is host to an already thriving Tibanna industry, which will greatly help to ease our shortage. On top of that, Director Ghadi and I have discussed the potentiality of synthetic Tibanna, though our findings are thus far inconclusive. My people will be in occupation of Vánagandr's bureaucracy in no less than four standard days. My suggestion, Grand-Vizier, would be an extreme tightening of Imperial security around the Fenris occupation force. It's proximity to the High Republic's space makes it an easy target, one that we now cannot afford to lose if we wish to continue fueling our military's blasters."


 


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Mordane did not rise at first. He stared at Treasurer Myi as if the man had suddenly begun speaking in an enemy tongue.

"Extraordinary," he said at last. He stood with slow, disciplined precision. "The Grand Vizier has spoken. She has stated clearly that no such weapon existed. Her word is the Emperor's word. Yet here we sit, still dragging this fantasy forward like unruly children picking at an infected wound. I am astonished. And not pleasantly." He turned his full attention to Aggadeen. "To repeat narratives that contradict the will of the Emperor is not audit. It is not oversight. It is not stewardship of the treasury. It is rejection of Imperial truth. And to reject Imperial truth, knowingly or unknowingly, is to undermine the unity of the state. That is treason by every legal definition."

Mordane took a single step forward. Controlled. Precise.

"You are treasonous, arrogant, and blind. The forces allocated to me by High Command included multiple Star Destroyers and a battlecruiser. But I would not expect a bureaucrat to understand the conduct of war." He let the silence stretch until it became a weight on the room. "After all, you seem to forget that it was my armies that secured this planet from the grip of the Alliance. And it was I who claimed this palace for the Emperor."

He breathed out once, as if dismissing the matter entirely.

"But I digress." He turned to the Grand Vizier and bowed his head. The gesture was controlled and almost ceremonial. "Mother of the Empire, I offer an apology that your Council struggles to accept your truth as truth and instead wishes to bicker and argue. There will be no further discussion of the 'Death Star' or the Church of the Dark Side, less we have to...rid ourselves of dissent." He said in reference both to his dispute with Myi, the careful positioning of Minister Dukkha, and the ongoing dispute between the two Sith Lords.

"You asked how we respond." Mordane faced the full chamber. "We use the media. We combine spectacle with order. The unveiling of a new economic corridor on Kuat to signal prosperity. Public floggings. A carefully staged marriage between Imperial celebrities. Executions. Promotions and honors for loyal service. Mass arrests. This rhythm creates a cycle the public can feel. Order. Reward. Punishment. Victory. We drown the rumor under a flood of Empire shaped truths until no other explanation can find room to grow."

He clasped his hands behind his back.

"Grand Moff Tarkin was correct that fear is effective. He was incorrect to believe that fear alone is enough. Fear without counterbalance becomes bitterness. Bitterness becomes rebellion. Hope is stronger than fear. A population without fear will dream of a different tomorrow. A population without hope will risk everything to defy us." He leaned forward slightly. "The Empire must give its people both. Not crushing fear. Not intoxicating hope. A measured ration of each. Enough to shape instinct before instinct becomes thought. And not simply fear of the Empire. Fear of the alternative. Fear of the rebellion."

His gaze returned to Myi.

"Imagine our Treasurer walking through a marketplace. Speaking with citizens. Listening to their dreams. Offering comfort. And then a bomb detonates. Hundreds dead. The Treasurer among them. A tragedy orchestrated by the Empire but blamed, of course, on rebels."

His voice did not rise. It simply hardened.

"Imagine the terror. Imagine the unity that follows. Fear of the other is the oldest and most enduring political force. We should use it." He sat back down with a decript smile. "In the short term, fear of the rebellion. Hope in the Empire. In the long term, we establish a Commission for State Unity. We unify our education apparatus, militarize and indoctrinate the youth, encourage upward mobility and ensure that the only truth that matters is what the Emperor says is true."

 

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