Private Dreams of Glory

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

Irveric Station (Oasis of Power)
Military/Industrial Trade Centre
Regional Temperature Avg. (Summer): 45°C (113°F)
Regional Temperature Avg. (Winter): 10°C (50°F)
Distance to Ocean: 352.4km

Dantooine, home to dreamers, home of the ambitious.

The Empire's very own spiritual home of conquerors.
A pilgrimage like no other.​

A lush, fertile planet like Dantooine, still lacking the blight of heavy urbanisation, was never expected to give rise to a true champion of Imperium - but it did.

Giving rise to a humble, strong man of his means, lacking the blood of the ancient Houses of Zambrano, Dooku, Fel and all the others, had never been assumed as one brave enough to attempt aggressive cessation from the Sith Empire - but he did.

And his name, revered endlessly forevermore in light of his passionate and valorous leadership, was none other than Imperator Irveric Tavlar.

The years had been kind to Dantooine, as in the Empire's reverence for her greatest heroes, the planet and it's peoples had been mostly left alone to their own devices, clearly understanding the pride that rules the world's inhabitants now; even in the years following Tavlar's assassination, the Empire's reverence for the name, deeds and life of it's pioneering, rebellious leader had been enough for Rurik Fel to let its wonders grow without disruption, gesturing peace in every possible fashion to keep the legacy alive.

All the while, the 501st Legion would deploy and return time and time again, as heroes and survivors both, guided by Fel and then by Vandron, with the latter holding to continuations of the respect his predecessor held towards the humble communities of Dantooine. Even going so far as to build industrial and military installations as far as possible from the quiet, idyllic backdrops the planet's many beautiful horizons, constructing stations and the likes on the blandest, most-deserted backdrops instead, and with many reasons in mind that differed to that which drives men to respect such spiritual home-world settings. Particular settings, like those which surround Irveric Station specifically, that are still considered ideal staging-grounds for rehashing and selection training-exercises, endless storage capacity for vehicles and ordnance alike, and better for the consolidation of pre-mobilised strength overall.

A perfect balance, on a perfect planet - and it looks very much set to remain this way.

And with the beginning of another Tavlar's rise to military service considered, especially so.

A pilgrimage like no other.

A planet like no other.

The old Woad has been meaning to visit for a while.​

Having long since considered Dantooine a pilgrimage site, and precisely since the days and weeks following the Imperator's death, the Lord-Regent has been itching for a chance to visit the homeworld of a man who has meant much and more to Lord Erskine for years since, and especially in the months following his own ascension to Imperial leadership. To make things easier is the fact Woad has taken time away from his duties, and after another round of surgeries and the consequent recovery-time that accompanies such procedures, Barran has time in abundance to make plans to see the Tavlar monument.

With the intention of meeting Saul Vandron in person for the first time, there is much and more expected to be discussed between them, though there is much and more the Lord-Regent is soon to encounter of the unexpected in turn, as there is an Imperial legacy's continuation the old Woad hasn't considered since the the months after the death of it's progenitor. After all, the continuation of a ruler's bloodline has already occurred, and long before his planned visit to Tavlar's homeworld; the Imperator's illustrious House endures, and in the wake of old Barran's expected arrival, Vandron is likely to surprise the old Woad as soon as the introductions are made.

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

1st post

AN OLD MAN'S PILGRIMAGE TO DANTOOINE

SHIELD_ONE
LORD-REGENT OF THE EMPIRE
GRAND-TRIUMVIR OF THE TARKINIST ADMINISTRATION
GOVERNOR-CHIEFTAIN OF GALIDRAAN III

Tags: Saul Vandron Kriegan Tavlar Corvallis Tavlar

FATE OF THE REALM IV: THE HEART OF DEFIANCE - PART ONE

LANDING-TERMINAL 005, VANDRON MILITARY SPACEPORT,
IRVERIC STATION OUTSKIRTS, DANTOOINE (SUMMER OF 877 ABY)

The Lord-Regent had been ready for hours.

Ready to meet the other eyepatch-wearing hero of the 501st.​

Showered, beard-and-hair trimmed, fed, clothed with teeth brushed in anticipation of the NIV: Stalwart's arrival on Dantooine, though with great difficulty due to nagging mobility issues, (along with the drowsy effects of his painkiller stims adding more to the irritation of an otherwise-normal daily routine) Lord Erskine had been waiting a while before his eyelids had grown too heavy in the process. None wanted to disturb the old man's sleep, nor would any dare for that matter, but by the time the glorious planet was in sight, Barran's trusty Grave-Tusken had no other choice but to be the one to tempt fate.

A simple, flimsy nudge of the Woad's shoulder was all that was needed though, showing a strong inherent trait's resistance to the sedative side-effects, almost as if a constant struggle for dominance between anatomy and chemistry had staged a battle within Erskine's stomach. Clearly seen in the quickness to open his eyes to the environment around him, though the Woad was known for being a much lighter sleeper than that, the grumpiness in his demeanour was clear to see, but this would change as soon as Lord Erskine saw the Stalwart's descending approach towards the planet's outer orbital-sphere. Moments later, a yawning Misha followed suit, looking up with an irritated yowl until the tigress saw the planet below, opting then to playfully claw at the straps on Sir Rosk'Aiar's boot instead - happy to forgo ear-scratches as the two bipeds obliviously communicated in signage above her.

[[Spaceport secured, 501st delegation await our arrival.]]
[[Good, been looking forward to the fresh air. These stims can only do so much after all.]]
[[Unenviable, but I am also looking forward to the fresh air with that being said.... Well, that and the desert.]]
[[Grave-Tusken though you might be, you still have the usual collection of Tusken traits. Be proud of that.]]​

With a curt, though slow nod of agreement, Sir Rosk'Aiar accepted Lord Erskine advice with his usual brand of soldier-like solemnity; and in the usual fashion, both turned to the horizon in silent reflection, looking out across Dantooine's natural curvature as the Stalwart descended into sea of clouds and a the colourful canopy of a beautiful morning sunrise. However, the Lord-Regent tapped the loyal Guard-Major on his shoulder for one last signage comment on the matter, just to make sure they were on the same page before the highly-anticipated meeting with Vandron, as despite the way things turned out in the wake of the Tython meat-grinder, there was no perceivable bad blood between their Imperial ideologies. The old Woad remembered better times, and would have sooner shot himself than forget the wonders of the days when the Felists ruled the realm, and this was likely to show in the moments he first laid eyes on the near-finished monument construction near the spaceport.

[[Safer on Dantooine than we are on Bastion, so be sure to keep your posture relaxed. I don't want to offend anyone here.]]​

After all, there were many reasons for being there, though among that same many, most were for reasons that strayed away from state matters - especially with Erskine's little pilgrimage considered.

'Besides, R&R prescribed - doc's orders.'

 

[Kriegan Tavlar]

PRODIGAL SON
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION | ENIGMA PLATOON
8th AIRBORNE BATTALION 'ALL-IMPERIAL'
DECEASED Erskine Barran | Corvallis Tavlar | Saul Vandron

ISOMETRIC AIR​

Dantooine. In spite of its great sentimental value to his father, Kriegan had hardly ever visited the world save for two pilgrimages he could recall to the world as younger child. In truth, he had more attachment to his mother's homeworld than his father's. Bescane was the place of their birth and the first couple of years of their life, by then, Dantooine was still a longing goal of Imperial liberation from the yolk of the Sith Empire.

Returning to Dantooine left an immediate impression on Kriegan. In contrast to the cold militarism and bustling passing speederways of Bastion, Dantooine had an innate, serene calmness to it. It had been years since the battle between the New and Sith Imperials ravaged this world in narrow defeat for Irveric's army against the powers of the Galaxy combined in the Elder Compact. It was an unimaginable slight, one which Irveric took personally at the time and had a great difficulty coping with. The instinctual yearning to return home, to glimpse upon any grazing familiarity in a galaxy of death and terror. Yet- the forces of light and dark united to stem the tide of iron and sent the 501st, the Imperial Knights and New Jedi Order back in defeat. But the reverberations of that defeat were felt less and less with the final victory over the Sith Empire long passed and much of the damage wrought to the planet had been restored to former glory.

He was due to serve as one of the representatives of the 501st Legion as a whole. It was an immense amount of pressure but by this point, he'd had grown used to operating under such manufactured duress. It was the expectation of his name, his legacy. He would- to the best of his ability rise to meet it every time. The Lord Regent's shuttle landed on the space port's landing strip and with it, two ranks of 501st Stormtroopers stood opposite either end of the walk way with their weapons held across their chests at port arms.

When the landing ramp lowered with its gust of hydraulic steam and the Lord Regent began to emerge from the shuttle- Kriegan standing toward the end of the formation squarely between the two ranks snapped himself to the position of attention and gave his first command.

"Group! Attention! Present- arms!" He belted out from his diaphragm with a powerful and well practiced cadence with his command voice, raising his own hand in salute of the Lord Regent as he approached. As soon as he returned the gesture and dropped his own salute Kriegan would lower his salute all the same before ordering the group of Stormtroopers back to their original position.

"Order- arms!" He commanded and the weapons of the troopers went from being held directly in front of their chest back to port arms across their chests as Kriegan approached Barran.

"Good evening, Lord Regent." He said- offering the greeting of the day with a nod before joining Erskine's flank in stride down the landing pad.

"I'll admit I'm a bit humbled to be assigned to this detail, it's been a while since we've been able to speak in the flesh, Lord Regent. Well needed visit here anyway, I hope all is well in your recovery- you seem as defiant as ever, sir." He remarks, his tone a hair quieter than it usually is, more so out of solemn respect for the man next to him.

"I can only hope to live up to all this...it's hard to tell though, if I'm doing all the right things or not." He admits candidly.

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

2nd post

AN OLD MAN'S PILGRIMAGE TO DANTOOINE

SHIELD_ONE
LORD-REGENT OF THE EMPIRE
GRAND-TRIUMVIR OF THE TARKINIST ADMINISTRATION
GOVERNOR-CHIEFTAIN OF GALIDRAAN III

Tags: Saul Vandron Kriegan Tavlar Corvallis Tavlar

FATE OF THE REALM IV: THE HEART OF DEFIANCE - PART TWO

LANDING-TERMINAL 005, VANDRON MILITARY SPACEPORT,
IRVERIC STATION OUTSKIRTS, DANTOOINE (SUMMER OF 877 ABY)

'Group! Attention! Present- arms!'​

Hovering his way down the off-ramp, the bleary-eyed Barran stretched his back and shoulders as his eyes adjusted to the light of the rising sun, popping his joints and his scapular sinews into life when the voice of a drill-formation leader caught the old man's notice.

'Order- arms!'

Good parade-ground voice on that one, they teach 'em well here.
Belted out upwards fae the deeps o' the gut - as every precise order ought to be.​

Strong enough to carry through the strong desert winds, strong enough to carry above the hiss of the dropship's engines as they steadily cooled down behind them, and it was in these telling signs in particular where the trained bellow could be appraised much more easily; a nice surprise to kickstart the visit, but when the officer in charge of the honour-guard marched forth with back straight, Lord Erskine knew the surprises were only just beginning. Hearing a spoken voice he seemed to recognise moments later, the young drill-formation leader started,'Good evening, Lord Regent.', pausing as he came to a halt, holding to his straight posture with sun's glow still obscuring the Lieutenant's face at the time. This only served to heighten the curiosity even further, with Barran going so far as to set the hoverchair a little higher from the ground to see whose voice he was recognising at the time, absolutely sure he was hearing an older version of a voice he once knew.

A voice of which the old Woad had not heard in over a decade.

'I'll admit I'm a bit humbled to be assigned to this detail, it's been a while since we've been able to speak in the flesh, Lord Regent. Well needed visit here anyway, I hope all is well in your recovery- you seem as defiant as ever, sir.'

Wait a minute.... Is that-?​

With his volume lowering respectfully as Erskine's hoverchair approached, and even more so when they were finally at eye-level, the young lad for whom he held high hopes leaned in to conclude,'I can only hope to live up to all this...it's hard to tell though, if I'm doing all the right things or not.', confiding in his Lord-Regent in the spirit of honesty for which the lad's family were well-renowned. The old man couldn't help but smile with a sense of pride and comfort, as the very concept of Imperial legacy was reawakening before his very eyes, and all the while amplified by the joy of seeing what sort of man Irveric's laser-focused son had become in the years since they last spoke to each other.

'Kriegan.... I should've known it was you from the moment I hovered down that off-ramp. It feels like an age has passed since you were last seen walking the halls o' Fort Imperator, but it still gladdens me to see you healthy an' strong like this.... An' believe me, you can afford to trust the process - it doesn't take an Imperial Knight t'see your potential, lad. An' here I'm speaking quite objectively to say the least..'

 

[Saul Vandron]

DECEASED Erskine Barran Kriegan Tavlar Corvallis Tavlar​

The winds blew of change.

Saul Vandron spent the last few days in the solitude of a small lodge he owned on one of the mountain rises near Khoonda; a lodge stewarded by a veteran officer of the 501st who had lost his properties after a divorce dispute with his former wife. The Old Man had already been a veteran of the five-o'-one since the days of the Archaisian Civil War, a grizzled Captain in Task Force "Axis" under Major Tavlar's command. Saul had been certain the Old Man was of Morellian lineage, despite his papers identifying him as a human, assuming the Captain had been precautious over the humanocentric ideological waves that had permeated some elements of the One Sith Army towards its latter periods.

He still remembered the hunched figure of the Captain barking orders during the pivotal Battle for Bastion; old as dirt, but his voice remained forever booming. It had thundered commands across a hundred conflicts throughout different eras -- from the Archaisian Civil War serving in the One Sith, all the way to the Defiling of Mandalore and the Invasion of Kintan under the service of the reformed Sith Empire, to the Braxant Run Campaign and its culmination -- the Battle for Bastion under the banners of the New Imperial Order; the Old Man was the living testament not only of the blood the Legion shed together, but of the blood Irveric Tavlar and Saul Vandron had spilled for a cause.

The lodge was situated a mile or so away from an ancient smash-processing lab with its cavern walls still carrying the carvings and paints of the notorious crime syndicate Black Sun. It was no coincidence. Eadith had given him a formula for a concoction utilizing small doses of smash for clarity of mind, the bulk of the narcotic was utilized in some combat stims including those currently in use by the Empire. And clarity of mind was paramount for what was to come.

Ping.

Or rather -- who was to come.

The audible blip on his datapad interrupted the Amaxine's meditation and indicated the arrival of the Stalwart in orbit of Dantooine. Aboard it was none other than the ruler of the Empire -- the Lord Regent DECEASED Erskine Barran . He had been expected as it was Saul's invitation to meet the Lord-Regent on Dantooine, a world that had become a near pilgrimage site for the Imperials. Tavlar's homeworld, by COMPNOR's decree, was manifested upon education materials across schools and universities, including the Armed Forces' Academies and Barrack, and even on tourist pamphlets.

But a sanctuary for the Lord-Regent to recover from his grave, near-lethal wounds on Ilum and meeting the general of the 501st was a key offering only on paper. The true aim behind Saul's desire to convene with the Regent here was to bring the man stewarding the throne face to face with the man that was to sit on the throne. It was by design why Enigma Platoon had been dispatched to Dantooine and tasked with the parade and procession of welcoming the Head of State to the world.

**

Saul, donned in the plain uniform of an Imperial General, welcomed the Lord-Regent as the Galidraani and Tavlar's son meandered forward in between the standing honor guard of Enigma Platoon.

"Your Grace, Lord-Regent." he bowed. Kneeling was reserved solely for the Emperor as per Imperial Etiquette. "It is with honor and pleasure to meet you in good health, and welcome you to Khoonda, Dantooine." Saul stepped aside, hands gesturing at the rather small administrative center, simple and diminutive as it befit the food basket world that was Dantooine. The banners sprawling the entryway carried both the symbols of the Empire and the semi-autonomous government of Khoonda, the ancient sigil resembling a gyro had been modified to carry the Iron Sun within its embrace clearly symbolizing the world's alignment to the Empire. Two new pairs of flags were hoisted along specifically for this procession, both bearing the symbol of House Barran. ​

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

3rd post

AN OLD MAN'S PILGRIMAGE TO DANTOOINE

SHIELD_ONE
LORD-REGENT OF THE EMPIRE
GRAND-TRIUMVIR OF THE TARKINIST ADMINISTRATION
GOVERNOR-CHIEFTAIN OF GALIDRAAN III

Tags: Saul Vandron Kriegan Tavlar Corvallis Tavlar

FATE OF THE REALM IV: THE HEART OF DEFIANCE - PART THREE

LANDING-TERMINAL 005, VANDRON MILITARY SPACEPORT,
IRVERIC STATION OUTSKIRTS, DANTOOINE (SUMMER OF 877 ABY)

'Your Grace, Lord-Regent.'​

Finally, the man Lord Erskine had travelled from Bastion to see specifically, the one who received his message through Major-General Gowrie's correspondence on New Alderaan, had stepped forth from the view-obscuring morning sun, standing as strong and as unshakable as he was when Barran saw him in combat for the first time. It was Saul Vandron, Irveric Tavlar's very own warhound, and one of whom the Lord-Regent respected; not only by his combat record within the 501st, but by the ferocity of his own prowess in battle along with it.

Another of the heroes who weren't Force-Sensitive, but of that caste, Vandron was counted among those with no fear of Jedi or Sith for that matter, much like the old Woad in this regard - though Saul's approach to warfare was it's own wonder to behold.

It's own laughter in the face of the unassailable.

'It is with honor and pleasure to meet you in good health, and welcome you to Khoonda, Dantooine.'

A hero, bowing before one who felt such a gesture should have been returned, and in this act of warrior's solemnity, Barran would disregard Imperial protocol to offer a fist-over-heart salute as soon as Vandron's head began to lift upright again. Then as soon as Saul was standing to attention once more, Lord Erskine held his salute in place and replied,'You've achieved far too much for that, Vandron. You an' I salute each other now.', breaking the new protocol moments later to reach into his coat pocket for cigars with gaze drifting to the flags hoisted behind the honour-guard formation. A hearty chuckle followed, and in the moment he took inward appreciation for the insignia, the old Woad continued,'Blue-lions.... Hoisted on Dantooine.... Never even considered this would be a possibility someday, never once.', passing two of the three cigars out and keeping one for himself as he considered what such things meant in the grand scheme of things.

And with the local banners flapping proudly behind them, it made the Blue-lion banners look like they belonged - much like the new insignia seen adorning the center-most flagpoles.

Not bad.... Not bad at all.​

 

[Kriegan Tavlar]

PRODIGAL SON
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION | ENIGMA PLATOON
8th AIRBORNE BATTALION 'ALL-IMPERIAL'
DECEASED Erskine Barran | Corvallis Tavlar | Saul Vandron

ISOMETRIC AIR​

The vote of confidence from Erskine only served to bring a smile to the young Tavlar’s lips as he walked with the Lord Regent past the assembled ranks of 501st troopers. Of course, given his name and his body of work to this point, he’d had many make remarks of his potential- of what could be possible given his legacy but none of that came from a man who’d mattered as much or knew what to look for in military leaders like Erskine did. No one had more experience leading man into war than he. No one living now and likely, no mortal man who had ever lived before.

Here, on a world carved with the fruits of Imperial triumph in the wake of his father’s legacy it was only fitting that Kriegan make his introduction to the Lord Regent as he was now, a commissioned officer of the Imperial Stormtrooper Corps.

Initially, it seemed as if Barran was still piecing together who was speaking with him. Kriegan should’ve expected such. He was a man with an Empire on his shoulders and after all, regardless of name, Kriegan was still merely a junior field grade officer. However to Kriegan, the praise was rather unwarranted- in his own self critical lense. Not as if his less then extensive body of work wasn’t already impressive.

“I’m humbled by your confidence in my ability, sir. I merely do as I am ordered and do what is best by my men- to the greatest of my ability.” He replied with a measure of humility in his tone. Not moments later they were in the clutches of Dantooine’s lungs of power, Khoonda. A regime recalibrated and founded once more under the Iron Sun. It was impressive to see the change in sights and scenery of the world. It seemed well and truly Imperial now, as it should be. Long founded Jedi presence replaced with Imperial Knight redoubts and the long strewn apart planetary government replaced with Imperial efficiency.

“The world is unrecognizable from when my father last took us here. It was still ravaged by the war then- time and the Empire both have treated it very well.” Tavlar remarked. His hands crossing behind the small of his back at ease once they stopped.

“He always lamented the defeat here…but in the end- darkness is slain.” He commented once more.

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

4th post

AN OLD MAN'S PILGRIMAGE TO DANTOOINE

SHIELD_ONE
LORD-REGENT OF THE EMPIRE
GRAND-TRIUMVIR OF THE TARKINIST ADMINISTRATION
GOVERNOR-CHIEFTAIN OF GALIDRAAN III

Tags: Saul Vandron Kriegan Tavlar Corvallis Tavlar

FATE OF THE REALM IV: THE HEART OF DEFIANCE - PART FOUR

LANDING-TERMINAL 005, VANDRON MILITARY SPACEPORT,
KHOONDA, DANTOOINE (SUMMER OF 877 ABY)

'I'm humbled by your confidence in my ability, sir. I merely do as I am ordered and do what is best by my men- to the greatest of my ability.'​

Lighting his own cigar first, Lord Erskine listened on as Kriegan continued,'The world is unrecognizable from when my father last took us here. It was still ravaged by the war then- time and the Empire both have treated it very well.', surreptitiously passing his lighter and one of the other cigars to Saul as the young Tavlar cast a little light on the sort of changes Dantooine had undergone, highlighting the main reason for the changes in the years since the Empire's bitter defeats against the Sith-Loyalists on it's blessed surface.

'He always lamented the defeat here…but in the end- darkness is slain.'

With a casual couple draws from his cigar, the Lord-Regent considered the depth of the statement, understanding it to be the makings of a mantra when he eventually replied,'Every skyline they saw, they spoiled.... But the light of the Iron Sun ruins the shadow eventually, the sort that bloodies the noses of Sith-Loyalists an' aw their ugly sort, even in defeat. Our Sovereign-Imperator still managed to give 'em sweet Hell after all, an' constantly at that.', winking as if to suggest that same ability rested within young Kriegan also. Even when the children of Irveric were still exactly that, great things were predicted of the Sovereign-Imperator's sons, though men like Lord Erskine knew not to burden children with the weight of the Galaxy, as lessons in their abundance had already been learned along the way, with some of the darkest of which being learned the hard way - lessons he hoped the young officer still had time to wait for.

For burdens such as those lapped on the shoulders of the Lord-Regent's sons had far-reaching implications he was still suffering in his later years.

'I never really ran dedicated defensive-strats back in the day, not often anyways.... Emperor Rurik an' your father always had my lot on the offensive, though there was always somewhere else to send the Galidraani at the time.... Other theatres in the fight for ground-doctrinal dominance, but never lucky enough to join the brawl for the soul of this planet in particular, gorgeous so she is.'

To have his homeworld treated with half the reverence of which had been treated upon that of Irveric, as much as Erskine felt was still a pipe-dream at the height of his prestige as Lord-Regent, was a dream he still strived for; holding to his ambitions, looking to the future despite his position as ruler of the most powerful faction in the Galaxy, trying his utmost at all times to keep the blight of stagnation at bay. And as a bridge between dynasties, it was the old Woad's duty to uphold and protect everything that made such an Empire so great in the first place, even if it meant allowing the consequent changes in his reputation to transpire, wilting from hero to tyrant in the process of preserving and protecting the apex of Imperium - even if it was only until the right ruler stepped forth to relieve his clan of their duties.

'An' bein' perfectly honest, this auld Goidel still finds ways t'kick an' chide himself for not being able to join your father's static line here.... Still though, simpler times..'