Faction [FIRST ORDER] Eternal Eclipse: First Order Day

[Braith]

ETERNAL ECLIPSE // FIRST ORDER DAY
ZAKUUL

Zakuul had changed.

What settled over the planet was no longer unrest, but something steadier - something earned. The Zakuulan Resistance was gone, and in its absence, the world breathed a little easier. There was a sense of release in the air, carried in quiet smiles, in the gathering of people who no longer had to look over their shoulders.

The day began with a military parade.

It moved with precision, but there was no mistaking what it represented - victory, relief. A moment where the strength of the First Order was not only seen, but felt. Not as oppression, but as certainty. As something that had brought an end to chaos and left something better in its wake.

First Order Day.

An official marking of the moment order became visible to all.

And as it unfolded, there were those who watched with a different kind of attention - new arrivals among them. Commanders and soldiers from wayward fleets who had answered the call of Supreme Leader Rovac Vane, now standing at the edge of something greater than what they had left behind.

But that warmth did not follow everywhere.

It fell away once stepping through the doors of the Palace. Sound almost completely disappeared. The air sharpened. What remained was something far more exacting - an atmosphere that did not welcome, but weighed.

Within the Council Chambers, stripped of all excess, the same victory carried no comfort.

Only expectation.

And at its center, Supreme Leader Rovac Vane presided - silent, watchful, and absolute.

OBJECTIVE I - UNITY IN ORDER

The day begins with a celebratory military parade through the avenues of Zakuul - Stormtroopers marching in perfect formation, Armoured Divisions advancing in silent strength, Star Destroyers looming overhead, and TIE fighters screaching above the city skyline. While it marks victory over the Resistance, it also serves as a clear display of the First Order's clinical might. As the procession passes, the atmosphere softens into moments of social interaction, where soldiers and officers connect beyond formation and newly arrived Imperials - those who have answered the Supreme Leader's call - begin to find their place among their future brothers- and sisters-in-arms. The people of Zakuul join in the moment, marking the official birth of First Order Day.

Join in on the festivities - celebrate the restoration of order on Zakuul and have a drink with your fellow comrades-in-arms.

OBJECTIVE II - THE COUNCIL OF JUDGEMENT

Within the Palace's Council Chambers, senior First Order leadership convenes with commanders of wayward fleets and armies who have sought amnesty. In stark contrast to the atmosphere beyond its walls, this meeting is clinical and unyielding. The military system is outlined with precision, chains of command enforced without negotiation, and each newcomer is assessed for their value to the Order. Should they prove capable, they may help form something greater - potentially even the foundation of a new Moff Council to extend the Supreme Leader's will across the stars. Those who fall short will not be carried forward.

If you are a military leader that has answered Vane's call from the outside, now is the time to bring your benefit to the table of order and prove your worth to the upper echelons of the First Order.

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[Braith]

THE COUNCIL OF JUDGEMENT
Switchblade - Chapter 1

TAG: Maris Veyra | Vladic Drakov | Open

SUCCESSION
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COUNCIL CHAMBER, ZAKUUL

The heavy blast-doors of the Council Chambers slid shut with a pneumatic hiss, severing the distant, jubilant echoes of the parade. Outside, Zakuul celebrated a reprieve from chaos. Inside, the air was recycled, cold, and smelled faintly of ozone and old stone.

At the far end of the obsidian table, Supreme Leader Rovac Vane sat, occupying his seat with a cold stillness. His gaze was not on any one person, but seemed to encompass the entire room, weighing the collective worth of those gathered. He was the silent center of the Stratocracy; absolute, unmoving, and utterly devoid of the warmth currently being projected in the streets below.

To his right, Grand Admiral Vladic Drakov , his mind likely already calculating the military and industrial output of the wayward hulls docking in Zakuul. Beside him, Grand Marshal Maris Veyra , her presence a silent reminder of the tactical standard these newcomers were expected to meet.

The FOSB Director stepped forward, his boots clicking rhythmically against the polished floor. He stopped just short of the guests, his eyes scanning the faces of the commanders who had answered the Call.

"The parade outside is for the people," the Chiss began, his voice cutting through the silence. "It is a necessary theater for a world that has forgotten what certainty feels like. But you did not come here for theater."

He turned slightly, acknowledging the Supreme Leader's silent vigil before looking back at the wayward officers.

"You are here because the years of Imperial Remnant era has always been a waste of time. It is an excuse used by warlords to justify their own selfish ambition. The Supreme Leader has offered you Amnesty, but do not mistake his mercy for a lack of scrutiny. The First Order is not a sanctuary for retirement, but a machine that will bring Order to the Core." Braith paced the length of the table, his shadow stretching long under the sharp recessed lighting.

"We are currently mapping the expansion of our borders. To hold those stars, we require more than just soldiers; we require admirals, generals, administrators, and industrial tycoons. Some of you in this room may find yourselves governing sectors, some others governing functions. Others may find yourselves stripped of command and reintegrated as sub-alterns. Your lineage, your former titles, and your pride are irrelevant. The only currency accepted in this chamber is Merit."

He stopped, his gaze settling on the most decorated arrivals.

"You have brought your army, your fleets and your lives to Zakuul. Tell us: what benefit do you bring to the First Order that justifies your continued command?"

Braith stepped back into the periphery, leaving the floor open. He didn't look at Vane, but the weight of the Supreme Leader's silence seemed to intensify, demanding an answer that was as sharp and cold as the room itself.
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[Jago Lohr]

FIRST ORDER

Council Chamber | Zakuul
TAG: Braith | Vladic Drakov | Maris Veyra

Echoes of jubilation from the parade barely registered deep inside the Palace. Only the loudest sounds reached his ears and only then until the pneumatic hiss sealed the blast doors.

He existed in the peripheral, blending with the background to the extent that it would appear as though he always existed there.

Only the crimson armor of the Sovereign Protector set him apart from the interior walls of the chamber. He clutched a Vibrostaff in his right hand, its butt affixed to the floor as it extended upwards through his grasp and higher. Other items were visible on his person if someone were to look carefully.

Jago was not here as a participant, he was the silent observer who did not speak unless spoken too his gaze stretching out across those who would address the Supreme Leader and the rest of the Stratocracy.

From where he stood he saw the Grand Admiral Vladic Drakov and the Grand Marshall Maris Veyra but there importance was diminished in the presence of Braith , the FOSB Director his primary charge.

More to the point he observed everyone who came into the Council Chamber, reading their body language and their intent before they ever spoke regardless of whether they tried to hide themselves in armor or not.

It was the subtle nuances, the ones they didn't even know they made that were the most telling.

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[Sabine Korvan]

Objective II: Council of Judgement
Location: Zakuul
Tags: Braith | Vladic Drakov | Maris Veyra

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OVERTURE​

"The parade outside is for the people," the Chiss began, his voice cutting through the silence. "It is a necessary theater for a world that has forgotten what certainty feels like. But you did not come here for theater."

He turned slightly, acknowledging the Supreme Leader's silent vigil before looking back at the wayward officers.

"You are here because the years of Imperial Remnant era has always been a waste of time. It is an excuse used by warlords to justify their own selfish ambition. The Supreme Leader has offered you Amnesty, but do not mistake his mercy for a lack of scrutiny. The First Order is not a sanctuary for retirement, but a machine that will bring Order to the Core." Braith paced the length of the table, his shadow stretching long under the sharp recessed lighting.

"We are currently mapping the expansion of our borders. To hold those stars, we require more than just soldiers; we require admirals, generals, administrators, and industrial tycoons. Some of you in this room may find yourselves governing sectors, some others governing functions. Others may find yourselves stripped of command and reintegrated as sub-alterns. Your lineage, your former titles, and your pride are irrelevant. The only currency accepted in this chamber is Merit."

He stopped, his gaze settling on the most decorated arrivals.

"You have brought your army, your fleets and your lives to Zakuul. Tell us: what benefit do you bring to the First Order that justifies your continued command?"

Fate had not been kind to Sabine over the past decade, as evidenced by the faint strands of grey prematurely forming in her hair. Fortunately for her, they blended in well with her platinum blonde hair, and her face had thus far remained nearly as young and fresh as it was.

On Cinnegar.

Before everything changed.

She was operational, for the Dark Empire that had arisen from the ashes of the Empire-that-was. She could still remember the voice of one of her companions over the comm frequency.

“Your father is dead. You need to go to ground.”

She never saw him again; her father, or her companion.

She remembered crying; weeping bitterly as she clutched herself within her own arms, alone in the safe house. Her father was never known as a kind or affectionate man in general, but he was that way with her - perhaps only with her. She loved him as only a daughter could love a man widely considered to be a monster. Even after she learned who - or rather what her ‘brother Tiberius was, along with her father’s plan to elevate him as his heir apparent - she loved her father.

She deserved to be the heir to her father’s legacy, but because she did not have a ‘third arm’, such a future was denied to her. Denied forever more, as history panned out...

But she still loved her father, even still. So when she learned of his death, and of those responsible for it; she promised to secure her vengeance. Those would-be Imperials who were nothing more than sycophants hiding under the shadow of better men would pay with their lives.

Her brother Tiberius - or rather, her father’s clone stood beside her as she was lost in thought, staring in silence at the figured seated before them all. Former Imperials gathered from throughout the fringes of space stood before 4 figures, 3 of which seated at a long obsidian table.The fourth, a Chiss it would seem, stood before them all and began speaking. Sabine’s expression hardened as she was pulled from her internal reflections and back to the present. A question hung in the air, and she glanced at her brother who stared back at the Chiss before him. “I bring a desire for Order that has eluded me for years. While my ships, men and I have made our mistakes, we seek to prove our worth to the Supreme Leader.”

It was clear that Tiberius was not accustomed to kneeling, given the stiff nature through which his legs buckled and his form prostrated itself.

Sabine, for her part, paused. Her eyes met those of the Chiss, frosty blue irises meeting his deep red. “Our father’s legacy was tainted by lesser men. I seek to forge a new legacy. One of my own.” But rather than pausing, her expression hardened and she added: “I bring the willpower my father lacked. And the skills to do what others cannot.” She hesitated, keeping Braith’s gaze for several moments further before kneeling alongside her brother.

The two scions of Korvan knelt before the council, under the weight of their clinical judgement. Sabine still wore the stark-white tunic of her former life as a member of ISB, which contrasted with the sea of grey and black of the other former Imperials, and even moreso by the pressed and spartan uniforms of the First Order surrounding them.