Pax Foedus | Adron Malvern

[Malok]

The hour was late.

As one of the core foundations of his nation was challenged, the growth of a new entity almost eluded the attention of the Vicelord. Ever focused on the expansion of the Confederacy and the defense of her people, Darth Metus placed the totality of his efforts in quelling the ongoing Droid Rebellion as swiftly as possible. However. When there was but a momentary reprieve between sorties, the Sith was able to open his eyes to what grew unchecked. It began as a whisper, admittedly. An entity that was permitted to exist in the wake of Manda's acquisition via militant force. The so-called Confederate Imperium.

The name alone was enough to plaster a scowl upon the Vicelord's visage as his gaze burned against the datapad screen. For once, he was Home. Seated upon his Throne in the comfort of his own Sinner's Well. It was here that he had the opportunity to catch up. Here, that he would address this entity before its embers flew upon the four winds. By all accounts, they were pure of heart. Imperials to the core, yes, but they recognized that the Confederacy was a far better option in the post-War Galaxy. They were better than following the remains of the Empire to the First Order, at least. Most likely due to the planetary sovereignty guaranteed each member.

And, by this report, they seemed to buy into the Confederate ideologies. But a new Empire within their borders? Unchecked? That, simply, did not sit well with the Sith.

Lowering the datapad, his gaze turned to the Droid who had provided the device. The baritone was thunderous: "Bring me Adron Malvern. Now."

He cared not how long it would take.

His apprentice would heed his call.

[member="Adron Malvern"]

 

[Adron Malvern]

By the time Adron had reached Darth Metus' estate known as Sinner's Well the night was threatening to turn back into day as they crept closer and closer to the next morning. The Dark Lord had summoned his apprentice barely an hour ago and had Adron not been detached from his own staff he likely would have arrived even sooner. He hated to be at the beck and call of another being even one as powerful as Metus, especially one as powerful as Metus. As he moved through the winding halls of Sinner's Well, threatening to approach the main hall he could feel the dark taint that the Vi'dreya line left on their home.

Since Adron had taken Dianah Vi'dreya as his own apprentice he had visited their estate even more than before. The main doors to the hall parted and Adron's eyes did not hide the corruption of the Dark Side as they usually did. He had even forsaken a well tailored suit for his nightmarish set of armor, Crimson Dread. A deep ebony armor with a crimson beast sprawled from one end to the other it only aided in channeling his own dark abilities.

Adron's eyes burned over Metus as he approached the man. "You summoned me." He spoke the words as a statement, not a question as he bowed his head to the Dark Lord. Regardless of how much Adron hated it, his Master had earned his respect a hundred times over and a hundred times again.

His head rose and he clasped his arms behind his back, glancing around the room absently before his eyes fell on the man once again. "Srina is not here so it must not be something official. Why did you call for me?" He demanded.

[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

It was not often that the Vicelord had good things to say about Imperials - or reformed Imperials for that matter. But one key feature that he admired was their efficiency. When action was required, there was never a convoluted period to wait; or democratic processes which stalled what needed to be done. They simply did in a punctual manner. Such was the case with [member="Adron Malvern"]. When his Master beckoned, the former Imperial arrived as swiftly as he could - so quick in fact that Darth Metus did not even need to vacate his throne room for a different locale within the Well.

The Sith felt his Apprentice long before his eyes fell upon him. Yet, once his sulphuric gaze witnessed Darth Malphas, the beginnings of a smirk graced the edge of his mouth. He was growing in might. In ferocity. In knowledge. That much was evident with the very armor that he wore. In time, Malphas would prove himself worthy of what was to come...but in the here and now, there was business to attend to. ”That I did.” came the Sith’s simple response.

Rising, he descended the steps leading up to his throne so that he might look his Apprentice in the eye. ”This is a matter that Srina would be of no use. I need the mind of an Imperial. I need you.” With the truth of the situation now being laid bare, Darth Metus offered the datapad to his apprentice. And, as the Serenno native browsed its content, the Sith summarized:

”There is a movement within our borders. A so-called Confederate Imperium. I know that this is not your handiwork - but I know this is something you would be able to assess. Is it a threat. Can it be utilized. Should it be...silenced. What do you make of this organization, Darth Malphas?”

[member="Adron Malvern"]

 

[Adron Malvern]

Upon hearing this was a matter only Adron could see to the man allowed a skeptical arch of his brow. It would be a foolish notion to entertain the notion that Metus trusted Adron more than his counterpart, or even as much as her. Yet things became clear once the dark lord revealed his need of an Imperial mind. He returned his master's gaze intently before nodding in understanding. He knew the topic before it had even arisen, the Confederate Imperium, a ridiculous attempt at forming an Imperial section within The Confederacy. Adron scoffed the moment Darth Metus spoke the name, obviously he was rather amused by this prospect.

"The Confederate Imperium is many things, my lord. Bold, pathetic, foolish, creative, perhaps ingenious or moronic. You are right, this is not my doing. Although I admit to having a proper understanding of the concept because it was my idea." His eyes locked with Darth Metus' for a shallow moment before he went into further detail. "Rather it was my idea, first. When I first joined The Confederacy I knew we would continue to conquer former Imperial worlds. I considered using my former ties to consolidate those Imperial powers into a single being under my guidance. Such as this Imperium. However, in the end I realized an action like this is ultimately futile for me." There was a noticeable emphasis on the way he said the action was not for a man such as himself.

"It is my ambition to become the Vicelord. A being elected by the inner workings of The Confederacy. If I did not cast off the tag of "Imperial" I would never earn the trust of the Viceroyalty or the people. In the end even if I had still arisen to Exarch I would have held less influence than I do now. Because the trade off of a few worlds versus the rest of the Confederacy is considerable." He continued.

"This Imperium is not unlike the Eternal Empire. A monarchy within our own borders. While these are generally not a problem....they can be in forms such as The Imperium. Mainly because their influence crosses more than a single world or even a span of worlds. Now would they be able to seize control of The Confederacy? Of course not. However a succession is a very strong possibility. Especially if they feel they have become powerful enough." Adron held a hand up, rubbing the bit of stubble that had breached his chin. After a moment he cleared his throat before crossing his arms.

"However something like that is unlikely. Purely because it would take decades for this imperium to recover a fraction of the power held by the former Empire. Also, as we gain more non-Imperial worlds their chances of successful successions of multiple worlds will fall. I do not believe they are a threat, but they should be monitored all the same. Perhaps even leashed if necessary." He said.

[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

The potential of a successor state was not one that the Vicelord had considered. And the notion alone was enough to furrow his brow. As the Exarch said his piece, the gears were turning in Darth Metus' mind. On paper, it would be infinitely difficult for this Imperium to gain control over the whole nation. But, when it came to democracy...they wouldn't have to. Power did not come from military might or Imperial strength within the Confederacy. Power came from the people. And a congregation of worlds aligned with a single ideology? That...could be problematic in the grand scheme of things.

"They may not need to be a successor to the Empire to take control over the Confederacy." began his honest response. "As you are aware, democracy is our way. As we expand into Imperial territory, so too will their remnants become apart of our system. Their local Moffs assimilated as Viceroys if they still cling to their mantle."

Darth Metus unleashed a heavy breath.

"Not every Imperial is bad, of course. Your standing before me, aspiring to be elected by the people is proof of that. However. This Imperium can be a threat in more subtle ways than a take over. Thus, effective immediately, I am delegating them to you. Not to command - as you desire to distance yourself from that label. But to observe, report, and ultimately make the decision if their existence continues."

The Sith reached out, placing a hand upon the former Imperial's shoulder.

"And if you want to succeed me...you might want to hurry up and change Miss Creed's last name. The campaign trail eats up family life like candy."

There was not a hint of bemusement in his tone nor a twitch of his lips. Darth Metus was dead serious.

[member="Adron Malvern"]

 

[Adron Malvern]

Adron considered his master's words for a moment before nodding in silence. What the Dark Lord said was true and even his apprentice could not find a reason to argue this. This Confederate Imperium needed to be watched and in the end who better to watch it than a person who once served the Empire faithfully. It appeared that Metus had come to this conclusion of his own accord. As he had now named Adron the watcher of this Imperium. It could have been a simple matter for the Sith to turn this faction to his own intent, however he would have actually been more inclined to destroying it before it had a chance to spread it's ilk.

"I will keep an eye on them." He assured the man, his hands clasped together just below his waist. "If they become a threat I will dismantle them appropriately." The irony of the situation had dawned upon Adron and it only succeeded in bringing a slight smile to his face. "Don't trust yourself to my loyalty. It seems I'm forever disappointing people in that regard." The truth, whether Adron would admit it or not, was that he had slowly established a true loyalty with the Confederacy. However, to admit that would admit a vulnerability which he rejected.

What followed caused the man to narrow his eyes a bit. He was wary of Metus' hand on his shoulder though he quickly and noticeably relaxed under his master's hand. When he spoke of Alessandra the man could not help but chuckle a bit in response. "In time."

Looking to his master squarely he inclined his head in a respectful manner. "I will make contact soon and be sure the Imperium is under a tight leash. If that is all I will leave you, Vicelord."

[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

In time.

Darth Metus had accomplished what many of his ilk only dreamed. As a son of Mandalore, he had ascended to the highest mantle and conquered billions in their name. As a Sith, he had mastered the arts of one of the greatest Alchemists of all times. As a Dark Lord, he had clawed his way back from Death into new life. And as a ruler, he now led a nation of untold trillions. But in this moment, the “legend” of Darth Metus envied the former Imperial. It was not something which showed upon his face, nor did it bleed into his tone.

But there was a small part of the Sith that yearned to switch places with the former Imperial. A small, isolated part of his soul which bled for that which [member="Adron Malvern"] had. There was joy veiled behind that half-smile the Exarch showed. The same joy which colored the footsteps of [member="Srina Talon"] in recent history. The same joy which seemed to characterize every moment of his daughter’s life. Darth Metus was many things - accomplished, fabled, and mighty. But above all else? He was alone.

His fingers tightened briefly upon the Exarch’s shoulder.

”There is one thing, Adron.” he breathed. That isolated part of his soul was screaming at the top of its lungs, driving the Sith to speak these words. ”There will come a time when you will have to decide between your rise to power and the love of your life. If you choose as I, you can and will surpass me someday. You can have the power to cheat death. The power to strike fear into millions and inspire adoration from untold billions.”

“But you will die as I did as well. Alone.”

His grasp eased and fell from the Exarch’s shoulder.

”That is all. Your efforts, as always, are appreciated Darth Malphas. You may take your leave.”

And as the final words fell from the Sith’s lips, he buried that ignorant part of his soul. The Vicelord had made his choices and would live with them evermore.

[member="Adron Malvern"]

 

[Adron Malvern]

The tightened grip on his shoulders caused Adron's attention to shift. The words that his master spoke were ones he had often considered in the past. In the end how far would he fly to take power? Could he stop? Adron had been addicted to power and station since he was a boy, that was what initially pulled him from the teachings of the Jedi Order, they restricted power, limited it where he thrived within it.

He glanced around a bit, almost absently before exhaling. Lying to Darth Metus was about as useful as trying to move a star, the man had unknown years of wisdom on the younger Sith. "I need the power to defend those I love." He admitted, his voice practically dropping to a whisper as he spoke meaningfully.

"Everything was taken from me once. If I have to destroy who I am to stop that from happening again, so be it." He admitted, before nodding his head respectfully to his master. "My lord." He said in acknowlegement before turning to make his way out of the Vicelords hall. He had much to do and even more to consider, it was sure to be a long night.

[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

K R A N T​

What do you know of Darkness?

When the former Imperial first entered Confederate space peacefully, it was evident that he had done his homework. Adron Malvern was many things - but chief amongst them was a dangerous intellectual. It did not matter how large or how small a situation was, the Exarch made it his goal to learn every possible angle he could. Therefore, when things went awry, he was not just prepared. He could dominate. This was one of the features of his apprentice that Darth Metus particularly enjoyed. It meant that, come Hell or high water, there would always be a contingency plan at play.

But sometimes, the Sith wondered just how much fruit Adron’s research yielded when it came to him? Did the former Imperial know about his resurrection? Did he know about his time as Rave Merrill’s apprentice? Did he make the connection between Isley Verd and Darth Metus? And, most importantly, just how much of the Sith’s capabilities was the Serenno native aware of? When it came to the majority of Darth Metus’ current pupils, these questions would be irrelevant. For example, when it came to his favored student, Srina, Darth Metus would hardly care whether she knew the depths of his might.

But the difference between the two was Hunger. The alabaster woman had much to protect, yes, but her ambition was not ravenous. Her ambition was purely defensive. She did not seek out the Exarch mantle. She did not seek to be raised up. She did not, really, want anything beyond a peaceful life for those she cared for. Yet, the former Imperial was a far more traditional Sith. Though his loyalty grew with each passing day, it was evident that Adron Malvern had a drive. His ambition was not satisfied with Exarch - he wanted to stand where Darth Metus did in all things. In Power. In Status. In all things.

Whether this rise would come via betrayal remained to be seen. Moreover, what all Adron knew remained to be seen. And thus, the Vicelord made a much more tame summons this time. Far above Krant aboard her orbital shipyards did he wait with hands folded patiently behind his back. It was a simple matter to request that the Veil have its upkeep rotated to Krant for one cycle. And it was even simpler to request Adron meet him while “his baby” was getting worked on. Yet, while the droids toiled tirelessly upon the Exarch’s prized vessel, there was company within the docks. A skeleton which rapidly grew as more droids flocked to the construction.

A new vessel. A new weapon. But...what all could it do?

Adron would soon find out. And in doing so, Darth Metus would have his answer.

[member="Adron Malvern"]

 

[Adron Malvern]

With each step taken, Adron ascended the expectations of those around him. He felt himself evolving and progressing at a speed that gave him pride to drink from. When it came to confidence he doubted he would have any equal in The Confederacy, no it was better to say in many aspects he had no equals in The Confederacy. His Master, was his superior, and Srina Talon was his counterpart, so she alone was his equal. Yet in the expanding days of The Confederacy Adron had sought to make a name for himself, both in the fields of battle and in the halls of The Viceroyalty. His name would be on everyone's lips not after long, and he was better for it.

There was not much surprise when the order came to bring The Veil in for repairs and refit. It was certainly past due on such things, especially with Adron who used the vessel far more than most other Dreadnaughts were used. No, it was good for the warship to remain ready.

His Master's summons was what had upset the balance of the day. In the past Darth Metus summoned him only when absolutely necessary. Of course, their relationship had drastically improved over the past few months, but it did not change the fact that neither had much time for socialization. Adron would be lying if he said he had not come to enjoy the conversations he did have with his Master. They were one of two things, light hearted and rather pleasent banter, or they were words of wisdom that Adron could draw from. Either way it would be an experience worth his time. He'd also noticed something about Darth Metus that he envied, everything you knew about the man and his inner thoughts, were earned. He may give advice freely, yet the truth of the matter was each thing he provided you with was a gift, all others must be difficultly pried from him.

The door's to the Vicelord's location parted with a silent command from The Force. As they closed behind him, Adron looked to the figure of his Master, appearently staring off into the reaches of space. His posture was not outside the realm of the nobility, had he been born on Serenno he could have made a fine Count. Not better than Adron, but surely exceptional in his own right.

"My lord." Adron greeted, inclining his head respectfully. In service to Darth Metus Adron had certainly learned quite a bit, however it was better to say he had matured. It was not even the fine streaks of grey flowing over a few strands of hair that showed it either. "You summoned me."

[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

It had been far too long.

Though the hour itself was a test for the former Imperial, the overall plan...filled the Sith with an old sensation. His stomach felt as light as air. Lightning may as well have been coursing through his veins. And a degree of impatience pricked at the edge of his mind as he witnessed the droids at work from afar. The skeleton of a mighty behemoth was being, slowly, erected for the purpose of devastation. And like any artist before a canvas, the act of creation filled his soul was joy. It was unlike the blind happiness felt by a sire at the moment of his child’s birth - or the bittersweet happiness felt when giving one’s daughter away at the altar. No, this was a joy born of pride. Born of Power alone.

His fingertips tensed around his wrist at the thought of what was to come.

Enter the Exarch, ever heralded by an air of undying confidence. Though the former Imperial was not bound to his Master, time had afforded them both a reasonable degree of familiarity. It was to the point now that Darth Metus could easily feel his Apprentice coming long before his ears perceived the tap of polished shoes upon glistening steel. Nevertheless, the Vicelord turned and placed his sulfuric gaze upon [member="Adron Malvern"] - returning the man’s greeting gesture with a nod of his own. ”That I did.” came the baritone of his voice. ”Come, there is something I must show you.”

He motioned with one hand the warship’s skeleton and awaited Adron’s joining him at the window.

”This will put the Dread Queen to shame.” he began, speaking with a noticeable twinge of pride in his voice. It was clear he was referring to his personal vessel and not the beloved counterpart of the former Imperial. ”A testament to a lifetime of effort. This destroyer will be unlike any within our Armada - for its purpose is purely the devastation of planetary targets. Civilian targets, in particular.” The Sith was certain that these words would not phase Adron in the slightest. Unlike his counterpart, the former Imperial had not been scarred by the fall of the Galactic Alliance like Srina. In fact, he would understand and perhaps even appreciate the value in such a weapon. This would be a deterrent. A great and terrible sword to be unleashed against those who dared to bare their fangs against the Confederacy.

”My vision...is Darkness.”

”The countless souls will look to the heavens, only to see the very sun veiled behind darkness. A storm of midnight will roll across their skies, born of the Dark Side. It will rain down upon them Darkness. It will sap their will to fight. Sap their will to live. Smother their ability to wield even the Light. And as they slink into a final despair...it will unleash Hell upon them.”

”Their cries will feed the storm. Their death will cause it to grow even larger. Stronger. A loop of decimation until the entire world is silent. This shall be my Sword, Adron.” He paused, reaching out to place a hand upon the man’s shoulder. ”And I have called you here for the honor of giving Her a name.”

[member="Adron Malvern"]

 

[Adron Malvern]

There was an all too familiar glint in the eyes of The Vicelord. It suggested the man had finally brought one of his plans or projects to culmination. Although Adron was not always privy to his Master's inner thoughts and plans, they were generally for the good of The Confederacy and accepted by the younger Sith Lord. Sometimes his Master's plans could be a touch overzealous, but he never lacked on thing that Adron respected, a vision. Metus' hand extended out to the stars and as Adron joined him by the window, a small smirk touched his lips. Even now, in it's earliest stage of construction this behemoth was sure to be a terror to rival all others. It's massive span was even greater than that of The Veil and the Midnight Exigent commanded by Malphas and Tacitus, respectively.

Crossing his arms over his chest, tight against the plate that was clad over his torso, Adron looked over the vessel with a certain gaze. It was beautiful. Pure destruction crafted into a single vessel. This single ship would likely command firepower to rival entire fleets. Whole worlds could be immediately pacified and subjugated by this metallic warbeast.

When his Master said he had a vision of darkness, Adron nodded silently for a moment before looking to the man with an approving glint in his eye. "It is a fine creation, my lord." He assured the man, before placing a single hand on his chin. When Darth Metus said it was Adron's choice on what to name the ship, the Exarch stood silent for a moment, considering it carefully. It was a ship unlike any other, which deserved a title unlike any other. He considered the name of their other ships. The Midnight Exigent, powerful. The Dread Queen, fear inspiring. The Veil, mysterious. The ship's name did have the knack of representing the shift in it's entirety. What to name the ship that stood above all others?

Adron glanced over it's frame once again before finally he knew a title befitting this beast.

"The Zenith." He said, referring to a ship that has truly reached the peak of a Starship's capabilities.

[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

The Zenith.

A name which held a duality of definitions - yet both meanings fit the budding weapon to the letter. The highest point of a body in the heavens was a literal meaning. Fitting, for the vessel would suspend itself in the orbit of her victim before unleashing literal Hell upon those unfortunate souls below. And, the latter meaning was a testament of the destroyer’s might. The point at which something is at its most powerful. Those words were indeed true - for the ever-constructing vessel, and for the man who had commissioned its creation. Visible glee could be witnessed on the part of the Vicelord upon hearkening to the accented voice of his Apprentice. Adron Malvern had managed to please his Master with this utterance, enough so that the wicked grin upon his face persisted.

”Yes…” he breathed, outstretching his offhand. ”The Zenith. A better name for Her, I cannot fathom.”

Yet the moment concluded as swiftly as it had begun, as the Vicelord now turned to face his Apprentice. Over the course of their relationship, the Serenno native had indeed grown in power. His knowledge and might were a thing to tremble before. And the Sith provided numerous opportunities for Adron to take the front during operations - thereby giving him that visibility to the people. A good Master - a true Master - handed their pupils the means to carve out their future. And if that meant stepping out of the limelight at times, so be it. In truth, there was no question about Adron’s aptitude in the Force upon coming under his tutelage. There was no question that, in the eyes of any organization, he would have been considered a Master.

But what he lacked was the focus. The finesse to wield the typhoon of potential within him. And the foresight to wield the power - and not allow himself to be wielded. Thus did Darth Metus inhale a solemn breath before speaking.

”It is time to complete your training, Darth Malphas.”

His eyes did not yet wander from the Zenith.

”You are strong - a fitting rival for my Srina and a fitting blade to protect this Confederacy. However, you are a force of nature - unbridled and wild in your power. Your nobility tempers your fury; as does your time as an Imperial. But with the right conditions, you are as indiscriminate as the Zenith herself. In those moments, you are not a wielder of the Dark Side, but rather a slave to it. To complete your training, you must learn the difference between being a servant of the Darkness - as I am - and a powerless peon.”

His hands came to rest behind his back.

”Therefore, you will venture to Katanos. There, you will find a spire - active and alive with the fury of the earth. Its magma will attempt to burn you from existence, and the taint of the Dark Side will seek to run you amuck. You will meditate there for as long as it takes, Malphas. You will tame this mountain. You will tell the Darkness who you are.”

”If you return, your time as my Apprentice will be at an end. And I will reveal to you what it means to be a Sith of my teachings. If you fail, the mountain will consume you. Now go. Prove to yourself just who you are.”

[member="Adron Malvern"]