Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Heroes, All Of You

The air was warm and gentle as it caressed Alexander's scarred visage. Recent conflicts had not been kind to the warrior, and his once handsome face was now a patchwork of scars and warped flesh. It was only fitting that he hide his ruined features beneath a sheathe of durasteel. Unfortunately, now was not one of the times in which he could hide such flaws.

The legions stood before him. A hundred thousand men and many scores more had come to Camp Tal'verda. A thousand small vessels dotted the rolling hills beyond the mustering grounds, and souls without number were packed in tightly as far as the eye could see. The vast majority of the fledgling Imperium's military might had come to hear the words of the man who was to lead them.

The position had not been something Alex wanted. He'd protested and fought to assert that he was not worthy of being the Imperium's guiding hand. That he was a soldier, first and foremost, and his place was upon the battlefield rather than in the realm of politics.

In the end, his allies had managed to sway him, if only just barely.

Alongside him stood his comrades. These men had helped to keep Zenith Prime free, and were as much his brothers as any blood sibling. They were to be recognized for their heroics, by order of the newly minted Imperator himself.

People of who had played a crucial role in the defense like: [member="Aester Novekki"], [member="Coric Adromak"], [member="Hixas Bane"], [member="Skrekkor"], [member="Strask Ak'lya"], [member="Xil Nevin"], [member="Finger"], [member="Thew Vullen"], and others were to be rewarded the Zenithian Star -- the highest honor to be bestowed by the Zenithian Military.

But that would have to wait.

He had prepared a speech of a sort. Its contents were lost to him now as he gazed down at the crowd from atop the stage. A hundred thousand people looked upon him eagerly. Alexander was glad for his power armor. They would have seen him trembling without it.

"My brothers and sisters," Alexander began, his voice carrying over the various loudspeakers, "Together, we repelled the Geonosian invaders. Without provocation, their fleet fell upon us with the intent to wipe us out. Instead, they were scoured along the walls of our bastions. This feat was accomplished by every man, woman, and child who participated in the defense, and for that I must thank all of you."

A roar of applause followed. Alex remained silent as he waited for it to end.

"But celebration was not the sole reason why you were called here. No, a far greater purpose is behind this meeting." He found himself standing a little straighter. "This will happen again. Perhaps not tomorrow, or the next day, or even a year from now, but it will happen. Of this, we must all be assured." He paused, letting the words sink in. "We cannot wait for them to come to us. The Geonosian threat must be met with lethal force, and it is our duty to deliver that force in the way only Zenith Prime can!"

The applause came again.

"For too long we have stood idle; content to watch as the galaxy has torn itself asunder all around us. We have seen the dangers of xenophobic powers and religious organizations. We understand like no others the root of the galaxy's problems: it is belief. Our enemies would have us believe that gods decide our actions; that their wars are justified for holy purpose. Jedi, SIth, Aing-tii, gray -- they are all cut from the same cloth."

"The Geonosians attacked us because their gods told them it was the right thing to do. The One Sith conquered the galactic core because their gods told them too. The people suffer for it, the entire galaxy suffers for it!"

Alexander cast a hand up toward the poles at his back. At once, the banners that rested upon them unfurled, revealing a bird of prey rising over a moon cast over a black backdrop.

"No more! It is time that we quit ignoring our responsibilities. The Southern Systems are in chaos. It is not only our right, but our duty to bring an end to this age of tyrants and despots. We are not guided by gods or old faiths; rationality and understanding drive us. From the ashes of Zenith Prime, the Zenithian Imperium is born."

The fire of his words had swept Alexander away. The words came to him with ease, and he never once hesitated to speak his thoughts.

"The galaxy is ours to protect. We cannot allow it to tear itself apart any longer. We will spread through the stars like a cosmic storm, and all will know freedom from persecution. All will know peace, and safety. Who will stand with us?"

The roar of reply seemed to shake the very earth itself. Alexander found himself grinning from ear to ear, his anxiety gone entirely. He turned his attentions to the men at his sides, "There is no greater duty, and no greater honor than to serve as Imperator. I shall do so, as appointed by my peers, so long as I am able, but...this is not about me; not even the Imperium. This is about our heroes."

He stepped away from the microphone. Two scribes stepped forward, a handful of medals carried in cases held by each of the young men gleamed in the noon-light. Alexander took one from each, and with great purpose, draped them over the necks of those present on the stage.

"The Imperium is forged from your efforts," he boomed, "Take pride, for your names will be recorded for eternity." He paused as he turned toward the greater crowds, "And take heart, for our crusade has only just begun."
 
The applause and the roar of the crowd seemed distant to Finger, faded to his ears as if his head were underwater. He had spent his time after the battle going through what had happened over and over, greeting the relatives and loved ones of each and every man that had been lost under him. His failures had led to so many being lost, there were so many things that he could have done better in his head, positioned them better, fought harder for them, thrown himself into the battle to save them himself. He had told himself that he needed to stay behind in order to command them, but now that things were past, the guilt was piling weight after weight upon his chest.

Those he had spoken to had essentially discarded his thoughts, insisting that things were better than they had ever been for them, that freedom was worth it, anything was better than being slaves to the Zygerrian scum, and that there was no better leader among them. Yet their words were met with guilt, and in some of them, he saw the doubt in their eyes, the lies on their lips. Was this the burden that a leader carried, he wondered? To carry the weight of each and every man lost on his shoulders, even if such a fate was nothing compared to what they had sacrificed.

Even as lost within his own thoughts as he was, some of Alexander's words yet reached him, and his gaze flickered upwards as the man himself stepped forwards to place the Zenithian Star around his neck, so that it may be displayed proudly to all. Perhaps it was true, and peace could be found nowhere in the galaxy, lost in chaos as it was. So how could he find it for those that had followed him from the slave pits? How could they find a place in which their children could grow, prosper, free of fear, hunger and death?

Taking a deep breath in, Finger turned his gaze back towards the crowd as Alexander moved on to the next man, their cheers finally reaching him as he hardened his heart. If peace could not be found anywhere, then he would just have to forge it himself. Even if he had to delve into the hottest fires, and the darkest pits in order to do it. There would be peace, and with the help of those around him, they would all create if for themselves, peace that would last an eternity. He would cut down anyone standing in the way of that purpose, no matter how much blood he would have to spill, of his opponents or his own. Among those before, and around him, stood family.

Of the men that had shed blood fighting in the gladiatorial rings of the slave worlds that they had been born to, he knew they would feel the same. They were going to establish a place for their loved ones to live in peace, and they would pay anything to ensure that it occurred. Their loved ones would live in peace, even if they had to give it up themselves. No price would be too high, there would be peace for the innocent, family or no. They would bring death to anyone that fought for any other purpose.
 
Strask stood silent, his hands grasped behind his back. Back straight, head drawn back, at attention. He watched Alexander carefully. This man seemed to believe in this crusade. In Strask's opinion, Force users were something to be manipulated, not destroyed. Their religions, as the Zenithians put it, made them easy targets for twisting. Still. He had other things to do. Award ceremony. He hated these things.

Not that people shouldn't be rewarded. But to him, it was just a piece of metal on a ribbon. There were other things he should have been doing. There were prisoners to interrogate, there was still the Joinees to deal with, and then there was the Ulgo kid. He had to get home, and soon. The brat was getting restless. He was grateful, sure, but he wanted to go home. A feeling that Strask understood. There should be a response from Bothuwai soon. Maybe he could finally go home. He nodded to the Grand Marshal as the metal was draped over his neck. Why were they doing this again?

Oh. Morale. Applause was quiter for the Bothan. He wasn't recognized, or entirely trusted by the common soldier. Ah well.
 

Aester Novekki

Guest
[member="Alexander Ontonas"]
Aester stood upon the stage, staring out towards the ocean of men and women clad in their militaristic uniforms, and varying outfits of armor. Their number was innumerable to the point where the Clawdite wondered whether a direct turbolaser blast would even eliminate them all. Ships buzzed throughout the air, swarming like locusts to get better views of the stage, or to allow for more individuals to spectate the event. Aester didn't know any of the people on the stage well, but she had been assured that she was to retrieve one of the highest medals that could be granted by the Zenithian military for her role in protecting civilians during the Geonosian invasion.

It was somewhat disconcerting to have as many eyes upon her as she did, and she felt a nervous twitch flicker through her leg and display itself in a slight shifting of footing. All her life she had learned to live out of sight, or at the very least to keep herself hidden from others lest they do harm to her. Now she had found herself driven into the spotlight where she was being congratulated for her services by thousands. The speech given by the newly promoted Imperator was impressive, and she found herself drawn into it with growing interest. It seemed that the Zenithian people were trying to start up a new government to meet their needs, and to merit out judgment across the galaxy.

She could get behind that idea, especially if it meant that there would finally be peace. The Zenithians were not a gentle people, and that meant that there would be warfare and destruction before there was finally peace. It meant that blood needed to be shed before the idea of fighting would be eliminated. Her talents would be useful to the newly forming government, and she made a mental note to sign up to volunteer her services to the Zenithians. The Imperator retrieved medals from his scribes, and began to drape them over the necks of those gathered. She awaited for her own medal to be placed upon her neck, and it's weight solidified her decision.
 
Laman stood up on the stage at attention, as he was trained to do in these situations. This was an extremely high honor he had recieved this day, and unlike many of the others received the medal, he was in the Zenithian military. It was extremely unusual for non military people to recieve the medal, and even more strange for more then one to receive it in 5 years let alone one day, but this was no ordinary situation. The defense of Zenith Prime took not just soldiers but regular civilians with a wide range of skills to solve the problem, and it worked.

The rise of the Zenithian imperiuim was a good thing for Laman, Laman would much rather have his job not need to exist, sadly that was not the way the galaxy worked. Laman hoped to assure for future generations peace and prosperity, and not the endless, grueling war that currently plagues the galaxy at large, and Laman agreed with Alexander on how religion was the core problem, for centuries religion had caused every single problem the galaxy has had. The Clone Wars, The Galactic Civil war, the ongoing One Sith-Republic wars, all of them religiously motivated, the only way to solve the problem is to starve religion from followers, then it will die a slow, but eventual death.

As Laman received he continued to stand at attention as the pride surged up within him, this was a good day.
 

Coric Adromak

Guest
The Geonosian invasion had been defeated. The Mercenary Captain believed that the victory would be the end for Zenith Prime, and it's people would remain content and move on with their live. Instead victory over their invaders had galvanized the Zenithians and ignited the a spark for galactic dominance. For a few credits and a job to shoot some bad guys, Coric found himself in the company [member="Alexander Ontonas"] and swept up in a political movement that could change the galaxy. Now the heroes of the great battle and people had unified here today to found something greater.

Standing alongside several other men Coric watched the crowd roar as Alexander gave his speech. In the heat of the moment Alexander spoke the words, and new Imperium was born. The Zenithian Imperium. Scribes came forward, and one by one they were each presented with a medal for their efforts during the great battle. As Alexander drapped the made over his neck, Coric nodded in approval. A Condottiero, now a member of this radical new movement to bring order to a galaxy that had collapsed to madness of force orders.

Coric was the first to step forward. "I was there the day the Confederacy bombarded Drunckenwell when the Sith Lords and other darksiders turned their fleets guns on their own people. I fought in the maddess of the Jedi expansion up the Parlemian Trade Route, which saw the Sith Empire fall and dozens of worlds burn. Coruscant, Denon, Eriadu, Crina, Onderon, Alderaan. All Planets who have seen destruction at the hands of Sith and Jedi alike." He spoke into the microphone for the crowds. "I will no longer sit idly by as our rights and liberties are eroded into nothing by the ilk of these force orders. I will no longer be treated as slave to those who see themselves gods. I've been a Condottiere all my life, but today I swear my loyalty to the Imperium." He then gestured to Alexander. "And I'll no longer fight for the Jedi or Sith but only for the free peoples of the galaxy. And I will know no other sovereign then the Imperator of Zenithian Imperium!" He said taking a step back, then bowed before Alexander Ontonas. "There are still many more battles to come."
 
Sasha Tank, a red-headed individual standing not among honored officials of the Imperium being decorated by the newly crowned Imperator himself, but from the ever-reaching crowds of men, women and children alike who banded together to thwart the opposing efforts of the Geonosian invaders. Her eyes peered through the many waving hands, cheering individuals and the like until her gaze sat idly upon [member="Alexander Ontonas"]. The woman was hard to impress, her arms interlocked behind her back as she allowed his words to sink in. Alexander spoke the very words, the very ideals and common beliefs she had known the majority of her life. Beliefs justified unsheathed blades, beliefs gave manifestation to the common misconceptions behind 'good', and 'evil' and at the age of twenty nine, she stood among the crowd with no longer a care for either sides. The jedi, or the sith. She had grown to loath them, in fact.

Her newly acquired meaning in life was to bring the Imperium's mission to fruition, no longer by swinging a chain-sword in a frontal assault through enemy lines, but handling the messy work that few dared task themselves with. Staring her wounded and bloodied brothers, and less commonly 'sisters' in the eye, serving as their last hope for life when appendages lied hanging off, will lied shattered beneath the heap of power armor and sights grew faint under the concussive blasts of enemy fire. Sasha had tasked herself with joining the medical corps, delving into harms way amidst battle and caring for those who would've perhaps given up on their ability to continue. Though an honorable mission in her eyes, it didn't come without consequence. Her body, though toned, lied covered in nicks and scars. A bandage placed over her nose, a scar running down the length of her back and a visor placed before her eyes to permit sight. Her battle had begun long before she knew of any Geonosian, long before she could tote a sword. She, in all her blind glory, defied 'beliefs' that she couldn't prevail, denied certainties that she couldn't serve her people, and would serve as a beacon with two clenched fists, a syringe and a ill-tempered mouth that greatness lied in more forms than an abled pair of eyes and a set of power armor.

Standing among the crowd, she grinned despite her hardy visage. "Karkin' beautiful. The battle's just begun," She whispered, clinching at her fists before raising an envelope in hand. Past the ripped paper and mailing address, letters poked out of a congratulations letter. A promotional letter gifted to the prior Corporal of the Zenithian Imperium, granting her the rank of Sergeant along with the new responsibilities and boons it granted the woman. She cared not for accepting medals, or for proving her worth to others. Sasha cared only for bringing the Imperium's goal and or mission to fruition and ensuring that she can still stand among a crowd of brothers and sisters by the end of their mission as opposed to a numbered few.

[member="Coric Adromak"], [member="Laman Ress"], [member="Aester Novekki"], [member="Strask Ak'lya"], [member="Finger"], [member="Alexander Ontonas"]
 
Outside the crowd of gathered beings and standing on a hill overlooking the gathering Iratus stood drabbed in dark robes. If one saw him he’d appear to be a mere apparition that looked down on those gathered. Even from his perch the voice of the first speaker carried to Iratus’ ears bringing a smirk to the hybrids face. Since his return to the galaxy he had kept his ears to the ground listening for any other factions that could be of interest to him. The Sith were a broken and tattered order, the jedi even more so. No longer did the jedi stand together but had broken into numerous splinter groups all with their own ideals of how things should be run. This made Iratus’ goal of seeing all their deaths near impossible, but these beings. The ones that had gathered on this day could be the way to Iratus’ goal.

This Imperium fancied themselves as the saviors the galaxy needed… Were they truly? That was not a question that Iratus could answer. He could hear the conviction in the leader’s voice. Any other group that proclaimed themselves as such Iratus would’ve laughed at. Yet the Imperium had something that the others Iratus spied on didn’t. They had heart, they had suffered, they knew the struggle and were willing to lay their lives down fighting for a better galaxy.

If only they had been around a few centuries ago. Iratus thought remembering his conquest to free the galaxy. The long and bloody war he had waged against the Jedi, Fel Empire and Galactic Republic simultaneously. That ended with his defeat and those serving at his side betraying him. “They will all just be puppets.” Iratus whispered turning away from the meeting. With the next breeze the body of Iratus began to slowly dissipate. There was nothing for him to say as of yet...

[member="Alexander Ontonas"] [member="Coric Adromak"] [member="Laman Ress"] [member="Aester Novekki"] [member="Strask Ak'lya"] [member="Finger"]
 
Watching a the sea of rallying armored soldiers amused Durza. Almost each piece of tech and equipment they wore he had a hand in making in some point of time. He needed no regonition or anything of that sort the Necropsi got off on the fact he was this damn intelligent and he loved it. Technology! This was the true power in the galaxy. Durza's cybernetic eyes scanned the area once more just to take everything in once more.

The Black Imperium was a worthy cause in Durzas mind. The Force birthed conflict from within itself. All those who used the force needed to be purged from this existance and sent back to the Nether World. This is what Denoch commanded of his species and with the Imperiums help it could be done but first the truth needed to be revealed to the leaders. It was time to SHow the Necropsi what the outside of this Space station was like and join the cause.

" Den ghey Durza. Mae Lae sinior Minni kav hakn vae leecd ghakal heki den galaxy." he said aloud in Proto Basic speaking into a strange device on his chest area.
 
The words had been entirely unprepared. They flowed from Alexander's heart; from his very soul. Judging by the way the crowd stirred, they felt it as well. He found himself shaking -- not with anxiety, but anticipation. Never before, not even during the height of the Galactic Alliance's push toward the galactic core, had Alex felt to powerful. He was a part of something far greater than himself, something that would survive long past his death.

And they had chosen him. He had persisted that he was unworthy for the task until this moment. It was not arrogance that took the place of that uncertainty; no, his heart was still a humble one, but purpose. His purpose was to serve the Imperium and name a worthy successor upon his death. These people all believed in the same cause, all understood the great duty they had been born to fulfill. The Geonosians had intended to break the backs of the Zenithian people. Instead, they had galvanized them.

"You overstate my purpose Adromak," Alexander spoke as he turned back to the crowd, his voice brimming with pride. The unity of the people was beautiful. Alexander found himself deeply moved, and had to pause keep tears of joy from spilling down his cheeks. "But your words have touched me deeply," he strode up to the podium, his voice heavy with emotion. "Look to those you see upon this stage. They embody all that the Imperium stands for." He gestured toward his allies; brothers and sisters all.

"Look to those by your side, and know that you are not alone. We will claim the stars! The galaxy will shake with our coming! We will tear the tyrants from their thrones and build cities upon them. We will knock down every false idol, every broken church, until nothing remains but the truth of the Imperial purpose."

He held a hand over his heart and bowed his head. "I will do all within my power to guide the Imperium down the righteous path, and when my time is done, another will rise to take my place. Our unity shall be eternal."

He broke into a ridiculous grin. He had not felt such joy since long before the battle of Coruscant. He spoke words of conquest, but in that conquest was unity. He spoke of war, but after that war there would be peace. The Zenithian Imperium was the future. There could be no room for doubt.

"Already our armies muster," he began, "and our fleets align. The Barabels have pledged themselves to the Imperium." He gestured toward [member="Skrekkor"], and a roar of animalistic cries from one section of the crowd shook the stage. "The Bothans have expressed interest. Those that join our union will be rewarded endlessly. Those that do not will be broken."

"The crusade begins in a week's time. Be ready, my brothers and sisters, our way will not be an easy one, but it is the only way. Carry that truth in your hearts when the galaxy's horrors come to find you, and know that nothing can stand against our combined might."

[member="Durza the Zealous"], [member="Iratus Palpatine"], [member="Sasha Tank"], [member="Coric Adromak"], [member="Laman Ress"], [member="Aester Novekki"], [member="Strask Ak'lya"], [member="Finger"]
 

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