Faction Imperial Reclamation Authority | Inquisitorius | Tools Of The State

[Alexandra Delaine]

"There are no chains stronger than duty, and no executioner more relentless than order."

The Inquisition had made itself well known during the previous meeting...

As the 9th Mechanized Corps and the 3rd Naval Task Force gathered beneath the watchful gaze of the Resolute, the Inquisition had been present to ensure that the proceedings ran smoothly and that any hidden Force operatives were uncovered. Instead, they seemed to have created more division than they prevented.

Now, those present, under the authority of the First Sister herself, return to their designated transport above Lothal to prepare for whatever role they may soon play in the coming battle. Yet between the ever-brewing tension between the Second Brother and Sixth Sister, the watchful vigilance of the Third Brother and Tenth Sister, and the mysterious arrival of the Ninth Brother, the First Sister has concluded that unity must first be secured within their own ranks.

There is much to discuss. Though the Inquisition has been officially formed, some already question its loyalty, its discipline, and whether such an organization can truly be controlled by the state. The disturbance at the meeting has done little to silence those concerns.

Order must be established. The obedience of the Inquisition must be beyond question. Unity must be forged, for they will be ready for the coming storm on Lothal.

But most importantly, they must be prepared for the question that everyone knows is coming...

​

The Inquisition has been ordered to return to its transport above Lothal for an internal review of operational readiness, discipline, and command structure. Recent events during the Imperial summit have raised concerns regarding cohesion within the newly formed organization, prompting the First Sister to convene all active members for discussion.

During this assembly, matters of loyalty, obedience, conduct, and the role of the Inquisition within the wider Imperial hierarchy will be addressed. Existing tensions between members, questions regarding authority, and the expectations placed upon those entrusted with policing Force-sensitive threats are to be resolved before deployment.

With the Battle of Lothal approaching, the Inquisition must present itself as a unified instrument of the Empire. Individual ambitions, grievances, and disagreements are secondary to duty. The Empire's servants cannot afford division.

 

[Alexandra Delaine]

"Setting an example." | Tags - OPEN

The Inquisitors needed to be reminded of their place.

Alexandra knew that if she did not stamp out this attitude quickly, it could jeopardize the coming operation over Lothal. Such a failure would do more than cost them a battle—it could destroy any hope of Force-sensitives securing a place within a restored Galactic Empire. The task itself was simple enough from the First Sister's perspective, but maintaining order required more than victory. Authority had to be exercised, discipline enforced, and, if necessary, skulls cracked to remind others of their responsibilities.

To that end, she had ordered every Inquisitor aboard the transport to gather within one of its smaller cargo holds. The room was far from glorious, that was the point.

The Empire did not exist to serve them. They existed to serve the Empire. The drab walls, stacked containers, and utilitarian atmosphere were deliberate reminders that their station was only as elevated as the state permitted. They were weapons, not nobility. Tools, not rulers.

Ensuring that every Inquisitor understood that distinction was among the highest priorities of this meeting. Alone within the cargo hold, Alexandra leaned against a pair of large supply crates stacked atop one another. Her gloved fingers slowly rubbed together as her thoughts wandered through the countless possibilities of what was about to unfold.

There was a greater than zero chance that someone would die today.

Another name scratched onto the already immense ledger of Imperial casualties.

Too many faces had already vanished from her life. Too many capable servants of the Empire had become memories, names preserved only in reports and casualty lists. A small part of her hoped that none would join them before the hour was over. A very small part.

She remained silent as the others entered the hold.

They all knew exactly why they were here.

 

[Arturion of Kalidan]

​

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++ Resolute Cargo Hold​

++ Inquisitorius Gathering​

​

++ Shadowkeeper Command​

---

Alexandra Delaine​

Ninth Brother had followed the First Sister away from the gathering. The Inquisitorius mattered more to him than the plans they laid out before themselves, though he approved of their indirect dismissal. A tool did not necessarily need to know why it was used, it did not have the capacity or importance to gain such information. It only needed to be wielded, used and if broken, discarded. The First Sister hopefully understood that.

With a quick gesture of his hands, a strange sign language, he dismissed his two Purge Troopers of Shadowkeeper Command as they returned to the shuttle and he kept to the other Inquisitors. He clasped his hands on his back as he followed, just slightly above the hilt of weapon.

Arturion stood out among them, not merely because of height, but also because he did not decide to dress in black with at least two further shades of black. He understood the idea of a uniform but this has been his uniform for a long time and aside from the ones who gave it to him and his long dead parents, nobody has ever seen him outside of it nor his face. And it would remain that way. He was an Imperial, the iron sun on his plate proved that and thats all he needed to be seen as. A soldier of order.

She led them into a cargo hold and by the atmosphere, he was honestly surprised that she did not have some corpses hanging in chains from the ceiling. It would add to the already existing flair of casual grime and disrepair. A cold calculus of hers to set the scene reminiscent of both the state of the remnant and the nature of the Inquisitorius.

He was confident in silence and simply moved to one side, his hands still clasped as from within the helmet, his eyes stared at each of the others in turn.

 

[Tenth Sister]

Location: Small Cargo Hold - Acclamator-class Transgalactic Military Assault Ship
Thread Objective: Servants of Order
Tag: Alexandra Delaine Arturion of Kalidan
Attire: Light Inquisitorial Weave
Equipment: Double-Bladed Spinning Lightsaber - Hilt

Tenth Sister was no longer on the Resolute. The Inquisitorius had taken an early leave from the conference between the Third Naval Task Force and the Ninth Mechanized Corps. However, even with her work there complete, she had yet to remove her helmet. There remained more to be done, and—although it had not been explicitly stated—there were issues that required resolution. In particular, conflicts and complications had surfaced during the conference, that if left to fester, could risk threatening the future of the Inquisitorius.

Tenth Sister made sure to arrive at the cargo hold early, her gaze drifting towards First Sister as the woman leaned against a pair of large supply crates. The small-statured Inquisitor offered only a quick glance in her direction, so as to avoid betraying anything to the other Inquisitors regarding the nature of their relationship. The caution, she sensed, was warranted. Affairs as they were at present within the Inquisitorius branch might soon change. The Inquisition was stronger than ever, with more brothers and sisters having been inducted over the past few days.

It would not be long before it came time to decide who would be the Grand Inquisitor.

Her gaze shifted towards Ninth Brother then, who would be the newest Inquisitor presuming that all matters pertaining to his induction and interrogation passed without incident. Clad in his crimson plate armor and T-visor style helmet, he cut an imposing figure as the tallest out of all of the Inquisitors. She acknowledged him with a glance as well, which was no longer, shorter, or any more or less intimate than the one she had given First Sister.

Tenth Sister then situated herself in one of the empty corners of the room, before extending her metaphysical senses to scan for the arrival or presence of others who might be concealed. All the while, her gloved fingers brushed against the hilt of her double-bladed spinning lightsaber, silence falling over the hold like a held breath as she waited for the others to arrive.

 

[Olorion Fossk]

The summons reached me long after the meeting had already begun. Not because I had ignored it, and not because I considered myself exempt from the authority of the First Sister. I had simply been elsewhere when the order was issued, occupied with a task deemed more pressing than my presence aboard the transport above Lothal.

The report waiting in my possession was concise. The operation itself had not been.

There are always people who claim loyalty to the Empire while quietly working against it. Merchants funding insurgents. Officials passing information to dissidents. Ambitious men and women convinced they know better than the state that protects them. Most never consider themselves traitors. They wrap their disobedience in prettier words. Reform. Liberty. Independence. Progress. The names change. The outcome rarely does. Information had been required, and information had been acquired. The methods were not included in the report. They never are.

I prefer it that way.

The dead no longer matter. The broken will either recover or they won't. Neither outcome changes the intelligence extracted from them. I take no pride in that reality, but neither do I lose sleep over it. Some duties are unpleasant. That does not make them any less necessary.

The corridors of the transport were quiet as I made my way toward the designated cargo hold. My boots struck the deck in a measured rhythm, neither hurried nor slow. Crewmen and naval personnel stepped aside as I passed. Some recognized the armor. Others recognized only what it represented. It made little difference to me.

My thoughts drifted briefly toward the summons. An internal review. Discipline concerns. Questions of loyalty. Questions of authority. Questions of obedience. I found myself struggling to understand why such matters required discussion at all. The Empire issues orders. Its servants obey them. The equation has always seemed straightforward. Perhaps too straightforward.

Over the years I have encountered enough people to understand that others have a tendency to complicate simple things. Pride. Ambition. Ego. Personal grievances. Such things infect organizations if left unchecked. They encourage people to lose sight of their purpose. Worse, they encourage them to believe they are more important than the institutions they serve.

That path never ends well.

I know that better than most.

The thought tightened something in my chest before I buried it beneath years of practiced discipline. My father had possessed power beyond imagination. Armies followed him. Worlds bent the knee. Men and women spoke his name with reverence, fear, or devotion. Some had even convinced themselves he was something more than mortal. And where had it led? Ruin. Ashes. A name I would rather not hear spoken. Authority itself was never the problem. Structure was never the problem. Leadership was never the problem. The pursuit of power for its own sake was. The moment a man begins believing he stands above the institution he serves, he has already begun walking toward destruction.

The distinction matters.

By the time I reached the cargo hold doors, the discussion had likely already begun. Through the Force I could feel the gathered presences within. Some familiar. Some not. Threads of tension lingered in the air like static before a storm. Rivalries. Suspicion. Ambition. Curiosity.

Politics.

The realization earned nothing more than quiet resignation. The doors parted with a hiss. I stepped through without ceremony.

My gaze moved briefly across the room, taking in each of the assembled Inquisitors. First Sister. Tenth Sister. Ninth Brother. Others. I noted their positions, their postures, and the atmosphere hanging over the gathering, but lingered on none of them for long.

I had not come here to compete for influence. I had not come here to argue. I had not come here to position myself for some future title. The Empire had summoned me. That was enough.

Crossing the room, I took up position against an empty section of wall. My hands settled behind my back as the crimson cloth trailing from my collar shifted slightly before becoming still. For a moment I simply listened, allowing the silence to settle around me. The others could concern themselves with politics, rivalries, and ambitions if they wished. My duty remained unchanged regardless of who sat at the head of the table.

At last I broke the silence.

"Fifth Brother reporting as ordered."

Nothing more followed.

There was nothing else that needed to be said.

Tenth Sister | Alexandra Delaine | Arturion of Kalidan