Private Iron Within

[Imperius Indomitus]

Zakuul | The Spire | Palace of the Eternal Dragon
Kroeger

The Imperial Forum yielded results, some more and some less promising. It certainly was more than anticipated though, for beforehand there were only meager remnants bickering about trivialities and vanities rather than prospects and opportunities. Imperial blood was old, in its own perception, but it was not that old compared to the Sith or Jedi, and especially the formers' own Empire. But Sith doctrine was detrimental to Imperial statecraft, any statecraft in fact. It was useful for the pursuit of individual power and understanding of the Dark side, but that was it.

One who voiced that most was Kroeger , remnant of the old Empire that Imperius had served with as well. He could understand a hate towards Sith, but it did not change the fact of usefulness. Pragmatism was more necessary than idealism when there was no higher force, as in a potent military, to back it up. Alas, pragmatism was written into Imperius' genome. Hence why he did not meet with the man in equal pomp and circumstance.

Imperius stood in one of the many rooms of the Palace, this one adjacent to it's central nervous system, it's operations room, clad only in a body glove. Several robed figures, their faces invisible, their presence almost unnoticeable, started putting on the black warplate onto the Imperator when Kroeger was offered to enter the rather spartan room.

"I hope you do not intend to make me bend the knee to the urn of Rurik Fel 's ashes."

His voice was not used to humour or sarcasm and it sounded almost offensive.

 

[Kroeger]

THE SPIRE, ZAKUUL
ASCENDANT ORDER
902 ABY

D E M O N
IRON LEGION
'THOSE ONCE LOYAL'
Imperius Indomitus

THE FIRE RISES
​

He was entertained more than anything else by the process. The Imperial identity was tantalizing for those just as eager to attain discipline and order as much as it was to the egoists who sought little more than the raw power which could be attained by sentient hands. Even if the meeting had concluded, his business was not yet done. He sparked another cigarette. Part habit, part fixation and mostly a comfortable, ritualistic act. He strode slowly with it, his rather relaxed gait contrasting the otherwise martially minded appearance he otherwise displayed. Approaching the room in question, the blast doors opened to the tune of a metallic hiss.

What was revealed was a rather unkindly sight to the Imperial. An overtly Sith, ritualistic equipping of the man's panoply. To his remark, Kroeger initially replied with silence, eyes, one organic and another cybernetic scrawling over the scene with a narrowed gaze as he ingested another draw of the crushed and rolled herb from his cigarette, letting it flow from his lips with a light plume of smoke. He nodded, and a way that almost indicated amusement. "More of a man in the urn than you or anyone else who'd come here." Kroeger replied, his voice rather flat and dull even as it thrummed with cybernetic influence.

"What's the armor even going on for anyway? Going to war? Or is it to look more...imposing?" Something that, if Kroeger had shown anything in his appearance at the summit, he was hardly insecure in projecting his power. Or lack of it. His Iron Legion was in waiting in orbit over the world, though hardly postured for an invasion. Respite more than anything with the dogged crew of the Long Night of Solace as well as his Iron Legion aboard seizing the visit to Zakuul more as time to rest, eat up and enjoy the slow few hours their commander was planet-side before they were onto the next job.

He paced about in front of the man, nursing the cigarette between his fingers before he looked his way again, his features concealed beneath the tightly clinging bandaging that kept his facial features somewhat in order. "But you seem to be a man with a plan...better than most...likely better than mine." Calling any of Kroeger's political doctrine a 'plan' was far fetched. Ambitions, ambitions far too deep cutting to even garner the work of the process.

 

[Imperius Indomitus]

Zakuul | The Spire | Palace of the Eternal Dragon
Kroeger

"One does not need to make use of the Force to see your antagonism." He remarked. The armouring seemed somewhat ritualistic, but not in reverence to the wearer, but to the armour itself. The armigers treated it like a sacred artifact, carrying it with as much devotion as they were silent. While the equipping process itself was less fantastic as connectors locked into place, servos buzzed, metal met metal.

"Do not mistake my words for disrespect - Fel was a remarkable leader, however short-lived and short-sighted his reign was. I knelt to him for purpose, not for legacy or blood. He is dead and the best chances that the Imperials have now are ... what? Former Mawite warlords, expelled and condemned? Followers of an insane Emperor whos Empire fell to some ominous Sith machination? Uptight and narrow-minded followers of the New Order that cannot see past their superiority? And the list goes on. Yes, Rurik Fel is dead and you should stop venerating what is no more."

With a heavy hiss and metallic clank the back of the chestplate was put into place, immediately a sound of energy and power filled the room as the power armour now had its energy source. A slight hum at the back of the senses. "Yes, I am going to war." He left it at that.

"What is your vision? Aside from restoring the New Imperial Order, which is fairly unrealistic simply by the facts that it lacks the antagonist to tie the ideologies together and the charismatic figurehead to make it work."

 

[Kroeger]

THE SPIRE, ZAKUUL
ASCENDANT ORDER
902 ABY

D E M O N
IRON LEGION
'THOSE ONCE LOYAL'
Imperius Indomitus

TESTAMENT
​

"I'd hardly count myself among the man's worshippers. One of the finer leaders this Galaxy had ever seen, perhaps...at least, in some time...but dead all the same." He admitted in earnest, the sentence earning another draw from his cigarette. His pragmatic military attire of armorweave tanker's jacket over his body glove and fatigues rather contrasting the venerable and ritualistic donning of his ebon plate. Kroeger was hardly privy to the talks of the Imperial High Command but he was a known name for those who cared to look as one of the most effective ground maneuver leaders in the late stages of the Empire's relatively short life span.

"War with whom?" It was the man's trade, after all. He asked if it was two workmen talking shop over a manual labor assignment.

"I've not been known to step into politics so I'm sure much of my sentiment was lost in translation. I hardly seek to ressurect what has been killed...murdered perhaps in better terms." He stated, the next draw of his cigarette making for a natural break in his speaking as he seemed to think over his next words, eyes drifting elsewhere.

"Perhaps if the Empire had been given a moment of respite, it may have been able to realize what was...but it was forged from war...and snuffed from war. It was all that was known. Empires of the past had enjoyed decades of peace to enact its manifest. We were not permitted our moment." He said, eyes glancing about the room in all its smooth, metallic and ornate machinations, eyes still adrift as he spoke again.

"I would not even pose myself as the man to don the iron mantle...no. What was can never exist again. But there are lessons in history...and its blood that charts its flow. You and I both know that to will thus into existence...it will be destructive...violent. The Sith understand that if nothing else. It will not be half a score of men in grey, black and white who move the wheels of history. Only blood. The blood of thousands chiseling at the marble to uncover the potential within." He said, his tone and inflection seeming to change to something a tinge more serious and philosophical.

"It's hardly those of your ilk who are the only agents of disruption in establishing a Galactic Order...The Sith. The Jedi. The hopeful preservers of 'Democracy', criminals, degenerates, morally bankrupt politicans and industrialists all. But alas, what would this Galaxy be without them." Kroeger stated, knowing well it was a rather volatile implication.

 

[Imperius Indomitus]

Zakuul | The Spire | Palace of the Eternal Dragon
Kroeger

"An enclave of Jedi Lords in the Unknown Regions." He seemed more or less not interested to address the subject. Out of secrecy or other reasons was difficult to determine, but he only offered an equally short answer as before. There was simply no need to offer insight to what the majority of the Galaxy considered Unknown. Let them call it that and keep it that way. They had no business there.

He listened to the soldier. It was the truth, the Empire had been forged in the fires of war and ended there, it had neither respite nor purpose without it. And while its leaders were great indeed, they also did not prepare or consider the effects of peace and a lack of enemies. Most disastrous, they did not create a line of succession for their rule. Imperius strongly believed that with Fel's and the Maw's death, the Empire was doomed to die as well.

"War is the crucible that can tie differences together and forge a pact between those that would otherwise prefer to kill each other. It is also the cement that keeps them together unless a foundation is laid in respite, for stability and order, for progress and opportunity. Purpose must be beyond an enemy."

The armigers attached a burgundy cape below the shoulder plates of the warrior, it almost matched the red-ness of his skin. The black eyes though did not let go of watching the soldier in front of him. There was a universe of differences between them, perceived and real ones.

"My skin is Sith, my application of the Dark side is Sith. But it does not dictate my mind or being. Do not mistake me for the fools that we overcome in their last Empire or the degenerates that pose as Sith in their current iteration. I am as much Sith as I am Jedi, Commander." He corrected the man. There was no anger or disappointment in the tone, he understood it made little difference to a soldier, but if there was some foundation of communication, he had to make his point clear. And moved on.

"We have been negotiating with the recently formed Imperial Confederation to form a pact to join arms. An effort born of the forum and backchanneling. It is hardly the united Empire that we require, but a first step. But I will be focusing my resources here and from Iokath into a centralised hub to form a new military branch."

An armiger came forward, a large scabbard with a sheathed sword carried on stretched arms. It was attached to Imperius hip together with a decorated sword belt. It was another addition to a rather exalted appearance, an artificer armour, crafted not only for perfect fit and protection but also presence. The sword seemed more simple but was by no doubt less well crafted. All designed and crafted by Imperius himself.

"Corruption and decadence will always exist, they existed in the last Empire and will in the next. Tied to the despicable Techno Union, Trade Federation. Choosing convenience over autarchy, choosing reliance over domestic security. Empires attract the lesser creatures like feces the flies. Our ties will define our potential."