Private From Beyond The Realms Of Death

[Irveric Tavlar]

Bastion ; In Orbit​

Aboard Star Destroyer Epitaph​

Several days after the Battle of Kintan​

Theme​

The precisely engineered servos and mechanics still felt cold to the touch. It worked ; that might've been all that mattered even if the weight of the durasteel and betaplast limb didn't drag heavily on the muscles of what remained of Irveric's right arm. It was only characteristic of the Sith to construct replacements that spat in the face of any tasteful aesthetic ; regarding the 'fear' element of exposed mechanics and heavy metal higher than concealing the wound behind perfectly molded synthflesh. A show of Imperial resilience to everyone else but merely a cold reminder of loss to Irveric himself. He would mold himself to regard it as his limb all the same ; in time.

There was little time levied to Irveric by his superior command to set his footing again ; grow used to his cybernetics and properly rest and recover after the brutal and exhausting combat. But what value Tavlar placed in rest the Sith favored preparation and readiness in spades.

Mandalore. Only a logical progression in the order of things given how Tavlar's army performed in the subjugation of Cathar. A host of beskar clad bandit warlords put to death not by the crimson saber and dark side energies favored by his Sith overlords. Instead the mettle of Tavlar's armored infantry was tested and his doctrine of war vindicated over a pile of beskar'gam. A feat that earned him palpable respect from his subordinates and peers whilst proving a margin note for the Sith who manned the apparatuses of the Empire. There would be no straight shot to the home of the Mandalorians however. A deviation in the course was taken to the crown world.

Bastion. Despite a life lived under the standard of the crimson saber ; Tavlar had yet to ever tread ground on Bastion. Even as he peered so closely at the planet it seemed his feet would stay aboard the Epitaph once more. It seemed almost a forbidden world for men of his station ; reserved for the highest of the Sith Order and aristocratic infrastructure of the Empire. Very few of the Sith-Imperial legionnaires would ever witness the spoils of conquest as they did.

"General...Master Vaulkhar's ship has arrived." The ship's captain relayed to Tavlar as he stood center of the Star Destroyer's bridge and command center in all but idle waiting as he sought to meet the Sith face-to-face. A peculiar gesture by whom ever guided its hand to send him here. A sign of high respect? low confidence? or dubious trust in Tavlar's command were all ample possibilities.

"Understood, Captain." Was all Tavlar said, shifting his gaze back toward the closed blast door of the bridge before his frigid gaze reared back toward the glasteel port peering over the crown world in idle orbit.

Vaulkhar

 

[Vaulkhar]

Amid the chaos following Kintan, Vaulkhar had found peace. His soul and mind breaking free from the mortal coil to join with the force. It was a tranquil existence beyond the world of the living, one that presented him a greater understanding of the cosmos he called home in both life and death. Yet, even in death, peace was denied the bastard son of Kaine Zambrano. Whatever greater purpose the former Jedi served was torn from his ethereal grasp as he was ripped away from harmony and pulled back into the world of the living. His body, corrupted by the infernal touch of the dark side, stole the beauty he once claimed. Energies blacker than the darkest night culminated within him to create an entity of undeath and pure, seething hate. Vaulkhar no longer felt as he once did. The tear in his soul left behind what once made him good, leaving instead that which sullied the soul. Rage, hatred, agony, and despair billowed off of the man as if they were a cape decorating his form on a windy spring day. His mere presence sent terror deep within the heart of the lesser man.

It mattered not.

When Vaulkhar looked upon himself he saw what he once was. A good man with a heart to match. It only further ignited the spark of madness seeded deep within his subconscious. The curse the Dark Lord had sewn into his very being left much to be desired. The freedom to travel the stars once again, the will to lift a blade for himself, but most of all, an even stronger desire to bury his hands into the emperor's chest and tear his still-beating heart free before the monster's very eyes. Never before did the bastard know hate as he did now. Existence was a state of pain he did not understand fully until his resurrection. Only afterward were his eyes opened to the truth. His only desire would come to fruition, his father and their family would perish beneath the fallen Jedi's blade. Until then, he had his pig father's errands to run.

Vaulkhar marched down the long halls of the star destroyer, following a small contingent of soldiers dispatched to collect him. He could make out the dragging of their feet as they marched too slowly for the undead monstrosity to handle. His eye twitched with each heavy footfall he took behind them, rage welling up within him. He could feel it rising, threatening to overwhelm him and the imperial troops in turn. In life, he knew better, and he clung to that feeling. He clung to it as he could make out the sound of his black heart hammering against its fleshy prison. Killing the innocent warriors who only followed orders would not bring him joy. Freeing his entrapped soul would bring an end to this horrid existence. These mooks couldn't do it even on their best day. So, he marched. Time seemed to stretch ever onward, only seeming to cease as he was suddenly standing before the blast doos separating himself from the general. His guides having disappeared to whatever nonsense the empire could muster up to take their time. A Hell of its own, one the bastard understood.

Without warning the doors slid open and Vaulkhar strode inside. He appeared as if he were barely containing the urge to rend the life from another. His hair hung around his shoulders, a deep black color. His skin was that of a dead man, devoid of life or warmth. His thin lips had a purple tint to them, as if he'd been frozen for a long period. His baleful gaze settled on Tavlar, the only sign of life within the fallen Jedi's being.

"I have been reassigned to your company, general. The Dark Lord deems your life worth protecting."

Vaulkhar's tone lacked emotion, his voice hollow.

"Congratulations."

Irveric Tavlar​

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

Tavlar turned slowly to face the Dark Jedi. Those characteristic heavy and fast footfalls were nothing that could've ever belonged to any of his subordinates ; the General retaining a host of men mostly cut of similar cloth and mentally broken through the Imperial drilling just as he had been years ago. Forsaking a turn on his heel or salute ; knowing well a Sith of his station cared little for posturing of military decorum. The man's stature was a shade reassuring as his drab green gaze peered toward the man.

Even if Vaulkhar's aura reeked with undeath he could very well see a living will in the eyes of the otherwise shambling. Something lingered within this one ; an intangible trait that didn't he didn't share with the other Sith that Irveric had ever encountered. Where as another of the dark creed might've sought to posture their dark presence unto the General. To intimidate him into compliance to their dark power, even if Irveric displayed a constant rigidity ; unyielding in straying from his own philosophies.

"I can't imagine an assignment to me is anything short of underwhelming for a son under the Eye of Solomon. Nevertheless I'll not be one to deny such a gesture by our Emperor ; even if it is a perplexing one at that." Tavlar spoke candidly ; matching Vaulkhar's tone of stoic speech regardless.

An introduction between the two of them would've been a collective waste of breath. Irveric knew well enough who Vaulkhar was and vice versa. However to a man so force imbued as Vaulkhar was...Tavlar's presence amongst the fibers of the universe seemed...detached ; nullified.

"I do not wholly necessitate your presence here if I am honest. Though I do ask ; what brought upon The Dark Lord sending you to me?" Tavlar asked outright. Dancing around his suspicions again ; would've only proved to be wasted gestures. He had to know. Despite perhaps the concealed nature of his inquiry ; the naval personnel manning the Epitaph's bridge knew better than to hone their senses to listen an exchange involving a Lord Of The Sith. Far more vitally if that Lord carried the name Zambrano.

Vaulkhar

 

[Vaulkhar]

"You would be surprised. Much of what the emperor considers important is often underwhelming," Vaulkhar stood rigid in his place, form unmoving. His eyes still locked on the general. "Though, it is unsurprising a man of your station would feel such. I do not feel another force user aboard this ship. You have the power to command acolytes and knights to do as you please, yet here you are," Vaulkhar would suddenly break his line of sight and shift his attention to the crew. While there was a sense of dread wafting off of him, he did not look upon Tavlar's men with any sense of passion. He watched them work with the closest thing to calm the general had seen thus far: apathy. "If I had to guess, you despise us, general. You are dead to the force and you'd rather a galaxy without our crazy practitioners," he paused beside the navigation terminal and ran a gaunt hand across it. His head slowly shifted to once more rest his gaze on the general.

"Tell me, general. How would you do it?" Vaulkhar moved across the room in the blink of an eye. His form blurred and where once he stood opposite the general, now he was inches away from him, hovering within the man's personal space. "I'm sure a man of your station could find a way to rid the galaxy of those who do the most wrong to our home."

Even as weapons were drawn and leveled on the fallen Jedi, Vaulkhar remained where he stood, unwavering. Tavlar would see it within his gaze, that which drove his every action. The undead creature before the general was neither arrogant or posturing on his latest charge. He simply didn't care. That earlier speck of apathy that pushed through his spiteful persona extended even to his unlife. Vaulkhar's attention moved again, his body slowly turning to see the plethora of officers ready to fire upon him. His thin lips split into a wide, ungodly grin. His hands slowly rose and began to clap. The sole sound echoed throughout the deck up until he stopped abruptly and turned back to the general.

"You've trained your men well, general. Their loyalties lie not with my father and his grotesque kingdom, but with you," Vaulkhar stepped back and offered the general his back as he moved towards the thin sheet of transparisteel separating them from the infinite expanse of space. Anger and seething hatred burned to life once more as he looked down upon Bastion below.

Irveric Tavlar​

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

Within an instant ; the son of Zambrano was mere inches away from Tavlar. An uncomforting posture but one that went unfettered through Irveric's consciousness. He knew better than to be caught off guard by Vaulkhar's movements ; as alarming as they might've been. The clatter of blasters drawn from their holsters and slings sounded out across the bridge as they trained their arms on the Sith. With two newly annointed Purge Commandos flanking the door the distorted ; scrambled vocals from their 'Tenebrae' helmet comms could be heard exchanged between the two. With the distortion it was illegible to any who weren't on the same frequency. An alien and unnerving voice from entities of which also might've slipped Vaulkhar's senses ; being an unrecognizable shadow in the force just as Irveric was.


"You make far reaching assumption of my rhetoric, my intentions - Sith." Irveric said, regarding Vaulkhar on equal station rather than the feigned dynastic reverence he might've received from any other boot. After Kintan ; after facing such a close brush with his own mortality he wouldn't be a captive to his deep and instinctual fear to their power any longer.

Irveric nodded once as Vaulkhar began to clap, eventually moving an arm up to motion the guns trained on Vaulkhar downward and soon enough his subordinates returned to their idle tasks or sentry. Even if it left a few moments of choking anxiety in the air immediately afterwards.

"The Sith serve the Sith and the Imperials serve the Empire." The General said. As ambigious as the statement was, it made perfect sense all the same. Peering toward Vaulkhar with a narrowed gaze he could very well read the burning rage that boiled inside of the man. Brought from undeath to serve a father he scorned. On that baseline level he could empathize with the Sith ; even Vaulkhar tangled with far stronger emotions than his officer counterpart.

"Captain, be sure everything is in order and then set the jump to the Mandalore system." Tavlar ordered curtly, his gaze shifting to look back to Vaulkhar.

"We'll speak in my office." Tavlar offered placidly before turning make way from the bridge, expecting Vaulkhar to follow in tow as the two made way down a lift and several corridors before they were in the General's office. A room which layout was not alien to any of Vaulkhar's station. With alusteel and leather padded seats separated by a long metallic desk. Astrewn across the room were several war trophies from his many campaigns. The prominent being a banner on a field of green depicting a stark gold mythosaur skull of the Mandlorians. Perhaps the most peculiar of which ; a lightsaber. Of no ornate significance he clearly once belonged to a jedi but now idly rested atop Irveric's desk.

Peering out the transparisteel viewport unto the crown world for a moment before soon enough metal shutter screens slowly faded down over view as the Epitaph jumped to hyperspace.

"You made a great many claims not moments ago ; what led you to make them, Vaulkhar?" He inquired, arching a brow as he sat himself in his office chair, propping his cybernetic arm atop the metal surface of the desk to ease the burden it strained on his muscles.

Vaulkhar

 

[Vaulkhar]

Vaulkhar's inhuman smile grew even wider, comically so if it weren't for the filed teeth and grotesquely stretched skin. The horror that stood on the deck seemed to find the general's words amusing. No rage or hate bubbled forth to steal Tavlar's life away prematurely. Interest burned within his ever-shifting gaze, but in what and why none could tell. Had the fallen Jedi chosen to enlighten the Imperial before him, it might've relieved some of the tension hanging all around them. He remained silent instead. Weaker men broke under a well-placed threat or insult, but Tavlar was of a different stock. The bastard could tell from the moment he laid eyes on the general. The duo were kindred spirits lost in an empire that would never understand what either of them could provide. The entire situation was as comical as the horrid smile tearing through the undead's face.

"Very well," as suddenly as the terrifying display manifested it disappeared. He turned on a heel and strode after the general in relative silence. The fallen Jedi studied the various corridors and lifts as they traversed the ship, memorizing each passageway taken. It had become a habit that even death could not break. So much time had been spent traversing ship corridors and fortress halls it left him little time for anything else. Fortunately, he had begun to recognize even the slightest differences in 'uniform' designs. A bit of wear in the durasteel at the end of an often traversed hall or a faintly scratched wall where an errant blaster belonging to a lazy soldier may have made contact years prior. It all told a story to the experienced assassin, a story so few would ever experience. And suddenly it all came to an end.

Each of them strode into the office in turn. Tavlar took his place at the desk while Vaulkhar moved to the wall bearing familiar regalia. His pale fingers gently brushed across the length of the lightsaber hilt.

"An interesting choice in decoration, general," Vaulkhar turned to look at the man, his expression that of a predator who caught its prey for the hundredth time. "Here it sits, a trophy befitting an Imperial General. A monument to his greatest accomplishments on the surface. Deep down though," the fallen lifted the hilt and presented it to Tavlar. "It is a reminder of what you are. A mere mortal who managed to do the impossible. You conquered the unconquerable. You killed a Jedi," the lightsaber ignited suddenly, lighting up the baleful mask that was the undead's grim features. "You hate the force. You hate the Jedi, but most of all Irveric Tavlar; you hate the Sith. I've seen how you look down upon their unholy rights with disgust. I know what you are general, for you and I are the same. Bastards of the Empire scorned for what makes us a threat to my father's triumphs," the lightsaber died away as Vaulkhar tightened his grip on the weapon, sending cracks spiderwebbing through the durasteel shell. "It is not the strong meant to rule, but the wise. Those tempered in the flames of war. Those who've come out the other side knowing it could've been avoided. You look upon your men with the care and concern of a father. It is why they love you. It is what makes you a leader."

Vaulkhar laid the ruined trophy down before moving to take a seat across from the general.

"I am neither a prophet or oracle. Simply a soldier who can tell a leader from a damned fool presented with a title due to blood or station. I clawed my way up from the deepest, darkest pits of this galaxy. I can tell your hands are stained with the blood of your labors- and Irveric Tavlar," his ghastly grin slowly stretched across his face once more.

"Most of that blood doesn't belong to you."

Irveric Tavlar​

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

As the blazing emerald saber blade ignited between the two of them ; Tavlar listened. By this point he'd passed the inevitable filter with any Sith that he'd dealt with in his station - of whether or not they'd execute him immediately based upon arbitrary judgement and warped morality. The assassin's perception showed in spades as he seemed to dig his teeth squarely on the General's rhetoric ; hitting a great dealer closer to the mark than any other who'd sought to make a scathing appraisal of the General who'd only ever portrayed frigidness in the wake of a strong majority of everything he'd ever encountered.

Picking up no where near where Vaulkhar left off, Tavlar began to speak. Leaning back comfortably in his seat he propped his artificial limb on one of the arms of the chair, again if only to ease the shear burden it brought unto the muscles supporting it. That last remark - of the blood of his labor staining his hands not being his. His first thought didn't immediately associate with the enemies he'd struck down and the tattered banners he'd laid at the feet of Sith overlords. No - he thought to those who'd died under his command. Fighting men and women ; be they pressed into conscription contracts or eager to prove their mettle he watched many of them die all the same. That was something this trade would never let up on. Be it his first deployment on Garel as a wide eyed Leftenant sent off to squash a terrorist cell manipulated into radicalism by an exiled Jedi Master or his troopers buying time with their lives on Kintan so that innocents could be put to the sword...for what?

"I'd not contest anything you've said because its the truth. You would know better than anyone that the fate of the galaxy rests in the hands of those who can harness the force - the entity that surrounds us and only blesses a select few with its embodiment. It is to these...people that the fate of the rest, the incalculable denizens of the Galaxy is left two. And so how is it all embodied? Secret societies ; two of them who claim diametric opposition to the other but in reality they are one in the same. Just as the Sith have manipulated empires past the Jedi set their claws into Galactic Alliances and Republics. Only now the Jedi are scattered and the Sith are far too eager to drape themselves in the fruits of Imperial strife." Tavlar elaborates flatly, exploring the conversation with only a tinge of inquiry and innate analytic curiosity to his tone and cadence.

"Perhaps that is why you are a peculiarity. Born in the purple - under the Eye of Soloman. Incalculable wealth and power at your behest - perhaps if you weren't so clear in your remarks I might've thought you one to draw my rhetoric from me to get in speech the means to end me as a show of loyalty to your father." Tavlar says, speaking of his death rather nonchalantly. A soldier and adherent to the power of the Sith ; it was difficult to hold value in his own mortality.

"This makes your own words genuine because you are not challenged by parceled encounters as I am but no - a familial bond. The House all but a nexus of what you despise of the Sith. They charade under the banner of the crimson saber - an Empire. Yet all the same they are the very entities of chaos that Empire is meant to subdue, to protect from."

Vaulkhar

 

[Vaulkhar]

"Indeed, general. Indeed."

The trio of words hung in the air between them as the undead's eyes wandered away momentarily. They once more settled on the lightsaber. "An elegant weapon, wouldn't you say?" the weapon slowly rose in the air and floated harmlessly between them before coming to a stop. The fallen Jedi expertly pulled the weapon apart, piece by piece, until it was just a variety of parts hanging aimlessly. Amid them, a soft green glow pierced the air, marking the crystal which powered it. Vaulkhar allowed the crystal to fall between them on the desk before he pieced the weapon back together. "You are an intelligent man, general. One who does not fear death," the hilt drifted back to its mount beneath the banner. "Your confirmation of my claims marks you as a threat to the Sith Brotherhood as a whole."

Vaulkhar's hand rose, the five pale digits extended in full. The kyber crystal followed the hand, soon resting in his palm. "You are right to consider any beneath my father's command a threat. You would not be the first general with a keen mind for battle, to perish. The Sith and Jedi alike fear what they do not know, but unlike the Jedi who will forbid its study," Vaulkhar's hand closed quickly, opening only to reveal the shattered remains of the weapon's battery. "The Sith will destroy it and wipe away any proof of its existence," the petite crystalline shards took to the air, seemingly scattering to a wind that should not quite be there. "You are an enigma, Irveric Tavlar. You have built for yourself a power base capable of challenging the likes of a Sith Lord. That is reason enough to feel some sense of pride, but I do not see it within your gaze. Instead, I see a man painfully aware of the target on his back. I see a man who seeks to strengthen this empire in the most treasonous ways," the bastard leaned forward, resting his armored elbows on the desk and his chin upon the back of his right hand.

"When you look upon me, you needn't fear a betrayal. I couldn't be less interested in the affairs of the imperial man or woman. Your people are the backbone of this empire and I assure you, they deserve a far better lot in life," Vaulkhar's thin lips pulled back in a snarl, his earlier apathy scorned as rage returned to his being. "The Dark Council and their Emperor on the other hand, well, I'm very much interested in them," he leaned back in his seat once more before continuing. "You are right in your claims. The Jedi are scattered and the Imperial war machine is left mostly unchallenged, which means the Sith would normally be left to squabble among themselves. With my father's Rule of Law in place, the Sith cannot kill one another. Which means the common man is left to suffer. However, things are changing within the galaxy."

A hand reached down to collect something at his belt. Seconds later, the fallen Jedi revealed a small device. Upon activation, a star map revealed a plethora of celestial bodies floating aimlessly through space. To the force dead general, it looked like any other map lacking a destination.

"This device is used to navigate to a recently discovered station built around a force nexus. There are hundreds of Jedi who have found these devices in recent days, but the number is growing. The Jedi are reuniting under a common cause; to destroy the Sith and in turn, their Empire. We must do away with them before they do away with everything your people have built," the device was deactivated and returned to his side.

Irveric Tavlar​

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

"I've been ready to die for a long while, Zambrano." Tavlar admitted candidly. He'd nothing to lose, not anymore. It wasn't as if he wanted death but he'd certainly calcified his fear of it a long while ago. The crucible of Garel, Folende, Kintan...all of his campaigns prior ; they'd all served a powerful inoculation of ever present primal fear of death any mortal entity felt. An anvil upon which is mettle was tempered in the flames of war.

Fitting that he called him an 'Enigma' ; the very code name issued to him within the Imperial Academy via a binary algorithm selecting from the next available from a set list. Among his fellow junior officers it was considered one of the many 'cursed' codenames ; the last to have it slain three hours into his first combat deployment. Yet here Tavlar was, two decades deep into his military career.

As was largely expected in the presence of a man in his station in the presence in a member of the royal dynasty ; Irveric held his tongue, far more intent on analyzing the character of Vaulkhar than he was to drone about his own beliefs which he himself as well enough aware of, for now.

It was when the Sith produced the Jedi device that he truly merited Irveric's attention. The rest was words and rhetoric, the device before him was tangible though still ; in his eyes, his presence detached from the force, he could see view no tangible focal point of the compass yet he held no reason not to believe him.

"As is the oldest tradition of the galaxy. Light and dark unite against one another and enslave all the space between to their cloaked force cults. All the while the countless hosts of the Sith Empire are thrown against the armies of the Republic, Silver Jedi and Imperium. No pride gained ; no ground won. But a circus of industrial slaughter to prop up the creed of a spare few. Sickening but such has been life. These symbols and names all the same over and over. A tyrannic grip more than anything else...so then that is what you propose, we strike at the Jedi whilst they coalesce? If what you speak is true and a coalition between the cults of the Jedi is convening then it could prove a formidable opponent to the Empire...one that may very well cripple it." Tavlar remarks flatly, coldly.

Vaulkhar

 

[Vaulkhar]

Zambrano.

That cursed name, burned into his very soul. It had followed the bastard his entire life. First, it was a mere reminder of his failings. Had he been born a legitimate son of the Dark Lord, perhaps things would've been different, but alas, he was not. Instead, Vaulkhar clawed his way up the Sith Brotherhood with reckless abandon. From the tender age of thirteen, the boy was brought onto the battlefield beside the emperor and fought like any other man. It was through a decade of endless bloodshed did the fallen attain his father's respect and pride. He was awarded the name as if it were a title befitting a king. In his success, Vaulkhar found a sense of peace for a short time. He followed his father's will without question, having a direct hand in the conquering of planets and assassination of various dignitaries around the galaxy. With time, the title and his work weighed the bastard down. The gifted name became a curse within itself and he hated it. More than once did he dream of tearing both his flesh and titles away to fade into obscurity. Yet, it was impossible. His disgusting father would not let him rest.

"I am no Zambrano, general," the name came out a hiss. "This damned family is all that is wrong with this galaxy and more. By my will they shall break beneath my hand or face annihilation," there was an intent behind his words that came from somewhere deeper than his rage or hate. "However, I do not yet believe we should guide the fledgling Jedi order into the Sith's sights just yet. They are weak. Their station will fall to the Empire without much of a fight, but if we give them time," his snarling features would relax and once more slip into the strange, forced grin. "We can manipulate both sides and guide them to mutual destruction. We need only bide our time the Jedi are strong enough to contest the Sith. And when the brotherhood is weakened, well," Vaulkhar gently waved a hand before him before tightening it into a fist. "We will crush them."

It was a brash declaration of high treason, but it rolled off the tongue as if it belonged there to begin with. "It may seem foolish, given we are only two, but there are more. The Sith Lord's rule is far from absolute. We need only connect with the proper circles to make this a reality," he pulled out a separate holodevice and activated it. A planet appeared before them, covered mostly in oceans, though there were plentiful amounts of land as well. "This is Odessen. The planet is home to a force nexus, a powerful tool to be conquered and turned to our devices. With it I can free myself from the council's whims and begin building the forces we'll need to contest the Sith Empire."

"What do you say, general?"

Irveric Tavlar​

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

"Precisely. There lies little strategic value with incurring these Jedi now. The Sith are no different than any other in that they can not wage war under a house divided. Let the Jedi and Sith pray at the altar of destruction and wage war as they always have. In their collective weakness an opportunity can be bred for action." Tavlar states flatly. He'd clearly mulled this over since the cold numbness of his cybernetic implant wore off after Kintan. The force he and Sith Empire encountered on Kintan was spades more numerous than whatever the Silver Jedi could muster alone in that system. Word spread quickly and allies had clearly come to the defense of Kintan. The Jedi brought allies and the existence of Peace certainly slotted the pieces together into a more complete narrative.

"Terms like 'force nexus' may as well be uttered in foreign tongues to me, Vaulkhar. Though I can only assume that it carries great power you can take advantage of. It is difficult for me to deviate from my duties as they are to assist you in this mission of yours...however. A subordinate of mine may prove of use in these more clandestine matters." Tavlar remarks, peering over the planet a few moments longer before pulling a separate datapad laying on his desk. With a few taps of the screen he slid it over toward Vaulkhar to reveal the Sith-Imperial Armed Forces profile of a higher officer under Tavlar's command.

Wirm'nael'armiir. Otherwise simply 'Wirm'; a former Chiss Ascendent operative who'd worked under Tavlar as a military liason before outright defecting to the Sith Empire. To most any other Sith-Imperial personnel under Tavlar's station - the file would be all but blank aside what was needed to confirm his existence at all.

"Not the most endearing man - as the Chiss rarely are however he is the most cunning and among the most competent under my command. He will serve you well in shaping a host under your command. He is an asset however ; in return, information. He'll elaborate more once his task is done." Tavlar says, taking the datapad over to his side of the desk.

"You might very be pleased with what we have planned already. Regardless...you've my word, Vaulkhar. " Tavlar states flatly.

---

Vaulkhar

 

[Vaulkhar]

Vaulkhar returned the device to his person and offered a curt nod to the general before him. While the fallen's plans and machinations were light-years from bearing fruit, they had at least taken root.

"You needn't worry about the details of a nexus. They are powerful and in tune with the force in a way, no living being could begin to understans. Each one that falls under our influence will give us the strength necessary to combat the larger orders when the time comes," Vaulkhar pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. "The theocratic view on the force so many hold is foolish. We must also destroy it to establish true order to the galaxy," he shifted and moved towards the office door, hands clasped together behind his back. "I mustn't get ahead of myself, it could bring consequences most dire upon both of us. For now," his head turned to allow the former Sith to meet the general's gaze once more. "Your subordinate will prove quite useful in the coming months. I will ensure none within the Brotherhood bring harm upon him, Tavlar. I would hate for our assets to be discovered or destroyed."

Once more, the bastard's eyes lingered on the banner and trophy. Mandalore was a nightmare. So many killed, so many buried beneath the rubble of Sundari's palace. The Dark Lord left weakened and nearly-beaten. Had Vsulkhar known then what he did now, things would've been different. He would have hacked his way through the ruins to deliver Carnifex a swift and humiliating death.

"Oh, yes," Vaulkhar offered the general his attention once more. "Unlike Kintan, I intend for you to walk away from Mandalore mostly whole. The embarrassing display by Voyance at the hands of the Jedi shall not be repeated," with that, Vaulkhar pushed open the door. "We will be arriving shortly, general. I shall meet you planetside at whichever location you select," he then moved from the office in silence. His feet falling silently, leaving no sign of his passage, unlike his earlier movements. The odd grin he wore slipping away to a tight-lipped frown. There was so much to be done and so little time to do it.

Suddenly, the warnings would be passed throughout the ship. In mere minutes they would arrive to the war-torn planet of Mandalore.

Irveric Tavlar​