Private Seeking Purpose

[Mithrad]

Seeking Purpose
Irveric Tavlar | Corinne

​

The taciturn Chiss silently followed the imperial guards that led him, his soulbound sister and the other exiled Csillan officials deeper into the mighty, dauntingly expansive Dissident Aggressor, Imperator Irveric Tavlar 's own super-flagship. Even by Chiss standards, such was an engineering marvel in itself, if merely by it's girth; a likely testament to the New Imperial Order's industrial might and present potential. If such a sight existed in part to sway a conflicted, yet-deciding mind on what the next most proper course of action might have been, then it worked most excellently, as Rodam'ithra'dovor's stern gaze seemed emboldened by new resolve as he made his way inwards. It was after a journey of several elevators and sights of hangars hundreds of meters wide that the escorted pair finally reached the threshold of the warlord Imperator's own command center and offices, within the ship's spires. Mithrad turned towards his sister, Corinne , before peering in a silent, calm nod to the other disheveled chiss officials and bureaucrats- several had spent the last few minutes brushing gunk and dust from their once-neatly white uniforms, with some unfortunate scars and cuts not so easily hidden- yet such told stories in themselves that the Imperator and his own 501st knew all too well: that of a homeworld, a culture and a very way of life ruinated, and thousands of years brought to an abrupt end by the will of hearts of pure darkness.

As the Imperator's offices soon came into sight with the slick, silent sliding of the automated doors, Mithrad straightened slightly, rolling his left shoulder to maintain at least some basic form of decorum as he began making his entrance, towards the center of the wide hall, itself covered in holograms, strategic monitors and imperial officers that came and went. He offered a thankful nod towards the guardsmen that had thus far escorted them to this point, before waving to his sibling and the handful of retainers and Csillan compatriots to follow along towards the Imperator's current position.

"Please forgive our lack of decorum, for it is born out of ignorance, and not disrespect. We wish to thank you, your Highness, for saving what few could be saved."

Out of habit, the Csillan brought his black, assorted jackboots together, knocking the soles together in a militaristic manner common to most meritocratic races and armies, offering a deep nod, before awaiting the Imperator's initiative in the conversation that was to come.

 

[Eviscero]

test

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
RECONSTITUTED SEVENTH FLEET
CHISS SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

​

"Our operation in attempt to seize the core of the weapon was ultimately...unsuccessful, whatever information we were able to gather is being passed on to ISB where it will be filtered down through to research and development. There are very few, spare instances of weapons to this magnitude being constructed since the Gulag Plague." Admiral Var Koon spoke up, his voice muffled and distorted by his Kel Dor rebreather, glancing over the holotable at the center of the command bridge, leaned over it with one of his hands planted against the control console, assessing the damages to the Seventh Fleet, on standby in Chiss space for the possibility of evacuation operations on Csilla. A great deal of life was lost, but the New Imperial Order managed to pull many of its own assets from the system, along with many Chiss Ascendants who now found themselves in being as a diaspora.

Irveric nodded once to the Admiral, donning the military uniform fit for his station, only recently peeling himself from the winterized Enigma-pattern Commando Armor, a set that was one of a kind and fitted to him. His uniform, in contrast to the pale argent of the Admiral's was a characteristic dark, field grey garment with crimson piping and trim along it, the very same issued to those in the Stormtrooper Corps. In spite of his status as Imperator, head of state to the New Imperial Order- it hardly contrasted with his subordinates in the New Imperial Army- save for the six blocks over six of silver, representing his rank as Imperator, the supreme commander.

"We failed to stop it, everyone did..." Irveric remarked, bringing his cybernetic hand up to stroke the metallic digits along his chin.

"But its fate remains...an enigma, hopefully that was the single charge the weapon was capable of. Regardless, we have begun deploying probe droids across Chiss space- to determine any enclaves of this 'Maw Cult'." A pre-emptive measure. Ultimately, the defense of New Imperial borders came first and foremost. What they could project beyond that didn't matter if they were just as easily susceptible.

"Hopefully is never good enough...if these cultists and reavers are capable of this, then they may very well have resources elsewhere...and it is only a matter of time before the Sith Empire or those terrorists on Korriban or worse get ahold of the same- then that puts every New Imperial world at threat."

"These are precarious times, Imperator. Undoubtably...but we have the initiative on all of them, we must employ whatever resources are needed to secure ourselves in the coming months." The Admiral commented.

"Right." He was ultimately, a man of few words, when he wished to be. But more so, he all but interrupted himself at the sound of the mechanical hiss of the blast door behind him. He turned away from the holo table just as the Admiral turned to face toward the view port of the command bridge, moving about assessing the state of his fleet, all while not being properly 'dismissed' given the acumen and trust he'd managed to gather with Tavlar.

All the while Irveric faced down the Chiss visitors. His gaze was seemingly weary with tibanna burns, shrapnel lacerations and scars all running across the skin of his face.

This was undoubtedly Irveric Tavlar in the flesh.

If he had managed to garner any reputation in the Galaxy, he was demonized as the Imperial marauding warlord in Sith space and villified as the totalitarian dictator in the popular medias of the Core-ward democracies. No doubt shreds of both managed their way to Csilla in order to paint the picture of the man.

What might have otherwise distorted Tavlar's presence, was his being in The Force. In that- he was a void, a ghost. He could not be sensed nor read. To any Force Sensative looking to reach out and touch him in the ethereal, he was not there at all.

Mithrad greeted himself with proper military decorum to which Tavlar nodded once for him to be at ease.

"And if I am to understand correctly you are the highest ranking personnel of the Chiss we'd managed to evacuate?" He asked outright, glancing to the flanks of the doors to the Nova Commandos stood in silence. Their armor a modified stormtrooper duraplast plate cast in black and gold. They were the guard of the Imperator and the rest of the Imperial Assembly- chosen only from the best in New Imperial Special Operations Command.

He waited for Mithrad's response.

Mithrad | Corinne

 

[Mithrad]

IMPERATOR TAVLAR'S COMMAND OFFICES
SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
CHISS SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

Rodam'ithra'dovor patiently and silently waited as the Kel Dor General and whom he recognized to be the Imperator himself finished their interaction. The bureaucrat briefly turned towards the others, and in a near-paternal manner, tugged lightly on one of the slightly younger Chiss's formal vestment, fixing the symmetry in the desperately battered and dirty young man's suit, in a vain attempt to procure some attempt at respectable looks.
He patted the young man's shoulder with a faint sigh to himself, turning to peer at his sister Corinne, before briefly speaking in an hushed tone in Cheunh. His ember-crimson gaze, bordering on a more orange tinge, fell on the woman. The words he spoke came as many times-repeated advice, and it was almost as if he was repeating them moreso for himself then for her or the others.

"This is just like a business meeting with the upper Aristocra. Heads high, polite gazes, do not speak unless asked."
The Chiss nodded then, such a movement echoed by a few of them, all trained staff, as few as they remained, although he was nodding mostly for himself. The sudden, hours-prior shock of his Homeland's brutal destruction still left a gaping hole in his psyche he was desperately trying to fill with such more trivial thoughts and occupations.

After offering the faintest and most insincere of smiles to the cortege, the corporate-looking middle-aged man, having nonetheless kept his professional stature and mask throughout this chain of unfortunate events, came to clutch his hands together in his middle back. That was when the Emperor turned from previous matters, offering him and the following party the receptive response he had hoped for- no apparent dislike, disdain or assumptions from the Imperator's first words- only a simple, straightly-delivered question. A man of action, straight to the point. Mithrad could certainly work with that, and such was a mindset commonly shared in Csillan politics. Excellent.

He bent his head and his upper body with a slight rightwards tilt, his clutched, back-held hands aiding his attire in giving him the appearance of a formal civil servant, and much less of a war-born militaryman.
"I suppose that would be correct, your Highness. Rodam'ithra'dovos, Scillan Ministry of the Interior."

Mithrad spoke firmly, though only after turning his angular traits to peer at the small cortege that had tagged along, two dozens of the more socially-astute Chiss out of the hundreds of middle and upper Chiss that had been saved by the Imperials, and were currently residing within the bowels of the star dreadnought. Although he himself was a petty-ranked administrator at best, much of the others present seemed to be a gaggle of security operatives, managers, archivists and other Scillan salarymen- making him, for all intents and purposes, the likely highest-ranked of the defunct civilian government present.

Before Irveric stood a man of about six feet and a few inches with wide shoulders, though a visibly slender frame, testament to his history as much more of an official then a warrior, unlike much of Tavlar's own command structure. Although he wore the previously-noticed black jackboots, along with assorted formal breeches and a belt upon which an AP-25i would be found holstered, that was about where the military-like appearance stopped. The Chiss appeared to be wearing a slighly-dirtied black overcoat, with thinly gold-trimmed integrated pauldrons and a white, velvet waistcoat, beneath which was inserted a Scillan-style tie, jet black as well. It wasn't particularly gaudy, yet it was expensive enough to clear him as any form of military official, in contrast with his sister's more formal wear, and give him the much more appropriate airs of either a corporate or a diplomat.

"A few hundred of us remain on this ship, with maybe a few thousands at best across your fleet, from what I've come to understand. I must once again thank you for saving what could be saved. It is both a blessing and a terrible curse that much of those you saved belonged to the Scillan administration."

A hand lifted, unshackling itself from his second to reach up for a currently turned off single-eye augment holoscreen, the kind that would display images and such into the wearer's eye, gently folding the item before sliding it into a vest pocket.

By mutual accord, we've all decided to help in what way we could, both for the sake of those we have left behind and to repay the fortunate kindness of your Empire. Your men and yourself have fought and bled by ours, and the remnants of Scilla shan't forget."

Irveric Tavlar Corinne

 

[Corinne]

​

╔════════════════════════════╗
ɢʟᴏʀʏ, ᴀꜱ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ, ɪꜱ ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ.
YUKIO MISHIMA
═════════════════════════════

Mithrad | Irveric Tavlar​

A SEEMINGLY NEVER ENDING DAY HAD FINALLY CAME TO A GRADUAL CLOSE. Corinne found time to pick up the pieces of her composure throughout an extensive visit to the medward, now traversing throughout the ship alongside MITHRAD with her arm held in a stiff, black, recovery cast.​

​

SHE CAUGHT HER BROTHER'S LOOK AND A SIGH ESCAPED HER.
​

Two sets of big, round, RED eyes; mirroring each other as they shared a knowing glance. She knew as much as he that THIS WOULD NOT STAND, and a pale fire churned and spit beneath Corinne's sickness and distraught. What lay ahead was a new PURPOSE, echoed by the distinct click of footsteps along the glossy floors.​

​

Her mind was quiet, ears filled with the ambient sounds of their fellow Csillian brethren. Cries, coughs, and hushed whispers. It was only the hiss of the automated door that made the woman straighten, shoulders rolling in a collected manner. VALEC'ORRINE'DOVOR held dignity even beyond the regalia of militaristic dress, adorned in civilian attire. Ultimately, IT WAS NOT THE CROWN THAT MADE THE KING. But it certainly helped. The Chiss' head tilted in the direction of her brother's words, sensing where his advice came from. A REMINDER, however it was welcome, and despite the usual drone she found from his words this time they held weight; relief. ​

"R e l a x."​

​

Corinne replies softly in familiar Cheunh tones. Perhaps difficult, considering the circumstances, but there was little else the woman could offer to her kin. Once they stood in the presence of IMPERATOR TAVLAR, similar conduct of respect was displayed, head dipping in accordance as they went through the usual pleasantries of... i n t r o d u c t i o n. Not speaking unless spoken to, it was strange to be in the presence of such a widely known and renowned figure, unfamiliar with such interactions. Regardless, she felt indebted to this man and the New Imperial Order as an entirety. Her dark, crimson gaze lingered on a nearby screen, holding a pensive and quiet expression. She wondered what the galaxy had in store for them now that their world had been destroyed. The woman's weight leveled between her feet, arms hanging by her sides as she simply listened to their interaction.​

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
RECONSTITUTED SEVENTH FLEET
CHISS SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

​

He offered an immediate appraisal to both of them in harsh silence as he looked to Mithrad with an indifferent, cold gaze. Such was the nature of the Imperator, such was the nature of the Order. All were viewed by their worth, their competence, their merit. Whatever station Mithrad achieved among the Chiss Ascendancy meant next to nothing if it was due to aristocra connections, nepotism or personal biases.

It was the fate he was subjected to as a soldier in the Sith Imperial Legions, no better displayed than his command at the battle of KIntan, his authority over his own unit stripped by the Sith Lady Voyance who proceeded to be reckless, unfettered and eventually, deeply unsuccessful in that operation.

It was what it was, dues had been long paid in spades since then but even still - it wrought perspective unto how he viewed the man before him. The management of a few hundred, or few thousand refugees would be a telling stroke to Mithrad's ability, one he'd have to make good on soon enough.

"Well as you know, there isn't exactly a home for the Chiss to return to. It is a grave loss, not only to your people, but the Galaxy as a whole. The Chiss Ascendancy have been the constant authority of the Unknown Regions for some time, the void Csilla's destruction leaves only other avenues for 'chaotic entities' to plant their roots. Thus, the New Imperial Order will be increasing its military and political presence in Chiss space. We were prior to the assault on Csilla...but that process has only be expedited due to these events." Irveric states.

"We had initially begun operations from The Redoubt but soon enough, the New Imperial Armed Forces will deploy an expeditionary force to Sharb. You and whatever militants are left in your band of refugees, will join them in consolidating this Chiss colony, there, your people will be protected and allowed to resettle...but that hardly spells the end to the calamity that has taken the Chiss nor does it heal the destabilization in the region." Irveric explained before glancing the way of Corinne .

"And who is this? She can speak for herself, I imagine?" He inquired with an arched brow.


Mithrad | Corinne

 

[Mithrad]

IMPERATOR TAVLAR'S COMMAND OFFICES
SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
CHISS SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

The Chiss offered an orange-tinted, stern yet respectful gander towards Tavlar. Before him, Mithrad evaluated, stood a career soldier first and foremost, yet one who had the charisma, the intelligence and wits and most importantly, the objectivity required to make good on words spoken. He would dispense of an excess of honeyed words or formalities with such a man, as it would likely be taken more as an insult then a form of respect. As the Imperator spoke and pointed out certain details, the chiss architect offered a sustained, unblinking gaze, nodding once or twice, before clearing his throat.

Tavlar would quickly learn that the Ascendancy did not promote the noble or the foolhardy- only those who delivered results, and ones absent of mistake or sloppy oversights, who were as pointy with their own superiors as their betters expected of followers. For a time, Mithrad had appeared somewhat distraught, as such was only expected of a man whose near-entire family and homeworld had simply ceased to exist. That state however seemed to slowly ebb away as political matters most urgent were now being brought to his attention, aided by the simple, stern word his twin sister had ushered moments before.

The Bureaucrat closed his ember eyes for a brief second, before they'd reopen, fixated on the Imperator.
"The Calamity will find no closure so long as it's perpetrators draw breath and it's victims lay crestfallen and homeless. On this, we agree."

He lifted a single, thick black brow then, voicing a counterpoint in collected and certain words.
"Sharb? Is such a wise idea? With all due respect, Sharb lies only a stone's throw away from the Csillan sector, and likely from our Homeland's invaders. You need be informed, honored Imperator, that much of those who remain are primarily members of the civilian government. We certainly bear the fire and expertise necessary to rebuild our homes and in time prosper, but not to organize it for galactic warfare in the short term. Such are my lackings."

Mithrad spoke frankly, before rolling his jaw. After a moment, he bent his head at a slight angle, before conceding.
"We are however fully committed to such a plan, and Sharb will prosper under the Imperial banner as a haven for the Chiss-in-Exile. As a counter-proposition, however, I would suggest the planet Volik, in nearby space. The Ascendancy had previously recognized Volik to be a mostly unhabited, fertile and verdant planetary body, previously prospected by corporate interests to be a viable resort colony, safe behind the sphere of influence of The Redoubt, and close enough to ferry Chiss refugees from the outer fringes of our fallen Empire."

Mithrad reached for his holo-glasses, before tapping briefly on an holo-projector, summoning a depiction of Volik, Sharb, destroyed Csilla and the Redoubt. He began throwing some mental numbers as well, depicting a certain strategic and logistical know-how. Turning his attention back towards the Imperator, he tilted his head in a single nod.
"Ultimately, it falls on your call, your highness."

Mithrad then turned as the Imperator interpelled his sister, expecting her to answer for herself as he placidly folded his hands in his back once again.

Irveric Tavlar | Corinne

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
RECONSTITUTED SEVENTH FLEET
CHISS SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

​

Irveric listened intently. If Chiss were anything, they were well spoken almost universally, carrying themselves with an uplifted level of dignity and respect not otherwise common place in the Galaxy. If anything, it made them fit into the Imperial identity all the better.

“Sharb is likely not the permanent answer. At least- certainly not so from the distress calls that have come our way from that system. The Maw are acting fast- to ensure Csilla isn’t a fluke. They’re not aiming to just finish the job with the Chiss but as I can only anticipate- they’re coming for us all.” Tavlar admitted coldly, though he hardly seemed to raise an alarm at the realization.

“The Redoubt is our place of operation into Chiss space. It is a nigh impregnable miasma in the cosmos and thus- it will serve as our means of deploying assets across Chiss space and act as the gateway back to the New Imperial Order.” Tavlar comments.

“Perhaps- perhaps there is something to be said of Chiss space as it is. If the Maw are on a course destined to burn the Galaxy then it is an unavoidable venue in laying siege to both the Galactic Alliance and the Empire. Meaning- any attempt to rebuild within its vicinity...would be a nigh continuously uphill challenge- not only in building up what was lost by the Ascandancy but straining to New Imperial military assets all the same. If we continue to keep refugees in Chiss space, the chaos, the resource strain and instability of the situation will be used to the advantage of our enemy.” Irveric suggests, pausing for a moment of contemplation as he moves to pull a metal canister from a pouch fixed to his belt, not far from the holstered pistol at his hip.

He never gave up his arms under any circumstance.

Opening the canister, he produced a cigar, bringing it to his lips before sparking it alight, taking it between his cybernetic digits he took in a long draw of the sweetened herb before speaking up once more.

“Is your peoples ancestral homelands so sentimental to you? Or can home truly be made elsewhere?” He asked outright.


“If so- recolonizing deeper into Imperial space may very well be the only means of your people’s survival.” He suggests.
Mithrad | Corinne

 

[Mithrad]

IMPERATOR TAVLAR'S COMMAND OFFICES
SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
CHISS SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

​

Mithrad offered a grave nod in reply to the content of the Imperator's first few sentences. Although, as a Chiss himself, he daren't admit it, the fall of Csilla in such brutally spectacular fashion was likely more then just a one-time event, and only spelled further chaos and turmoil for the entire region the Ascendancy once called a peaceful home.

"I can only curse at the inaction and lack of vital information that brought out people to such terrors- yet every life that yet remains must be saved, and such must be done with utter celerity. You are right, Imperator, in that the Despoilers will likely seek to gain from every passing minute of chaos in the region."

Mithrad already knew of the Redoubt, yet only seemed skeptical. Built as a great fortress for the Chiss people's last hopes, it certainly could fill it's purpose- however, it was envisioned in a world where the Ascendancy and the Chiss stood alone. These past few weeks, the New Imperial Order had time and time proven that the Chiss weren't in fact utterly isolated. Perhaps a new project in such ripe sectors as those recently taken from the Sith Empire would strike two birds with one stone; a new, prosperous home and a repayment for the Empire's own losses and compromised state.

"Sharb is not the solution, as it is part of the shockwave that came from Csilla's annihilation. With Chiss rulership all but annihilated, we are in no place to pacify and rebuild the Ascendancy's core worlds without complete tutelage- which will grind our common resources to dust, in even optimistic scenarios."

The bureaucrat lifted his hand to point at the holographic map, beckoning and drawing a circle around the recently neutralized regions of the galaxy that stood in quadrants lower to Bastion, the Imperial Capital. Such movement made his own military belt and holster more obvious, previously partially covered by his formal overcoat.

"These regions are those the Sith Empire has lost control over, correct? Such worlds are, from the little I know, teeming with potential prosperity, near major economic centers and trading routes. Although the loss of our homeland will be a hit to Chiss culture, perhaps there we will find some form of salvation, and grow the might of our Imperial allies by doing so."

As Tavlar mentionned the ancestral significance of the Ascendancy's domain, he offered a faint, thoughtful sigh- the memory of Csilla's sundering very much so imprinted in the man's memory. He did not speak for a few moments, before offering a few simple words.

"We must weep for days come and gone, yet the soul of our people did not die with our Homeland. It must, and will live on, even if it must do so elsewhere."

Irveric Tavlar | Corinne

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
RECONSTITUTED SEVENTH FLEET
CHISS SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

​

Mithrad was certainly sharp, toned close to the point. A pragmatist yet- ambitious. Not entirely far from Tavlar himself. Being a realist got Tavlar very far, it wasn't long ago that the New Imperial Order was merely a renegade state from Nirauan, with all the eyes on Mygeeto and Muunilinst in their ambitious first steps in the Braxant Campaign. A great deal could be made from nothing, so long as willful men and women were there to lead.

"The Chiss space will be in a better place if we merely focus on fortifying it militarily and evacuating the Chiss populace into New Imperial space. This would allow our combat readiness against Maw attacks to be at its optimal, keep your people out of harms way and ultimately- deter and defeat any attempts to sow terror amongst Chiss space." Irveric suggests.

"The Atrivis Pocket is in fact- destabilized. Our intelligence reports that the victory at Vjun had all but sent ripples of chaos and defeat through the Sith Imperial ranks. While this area of space is not going to be a bloodless march, it is all but ours for the taking. Then your objective will be to consolidate the refugees from Chiss space and uncover a new home for your Chiss." Irveric commands.

"Consider this your test. It is no small undertaking but if you are genuinely committed to what is best for your people, you will commit every fiber of your being to accomplishing this aim, correct?" He asked.

Mithrad | Corinne

 

[Mithrad]

IMPERATOR TAVLAR'S COMMAND OFFICES
SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
CHISS SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

Mithrad offered a nod as the Imperator spoke, his crimson, ardent gaze yet riveted on the holomap that was projected in the center of the room. An hand lifted to his chin in a pensive manner, as the Observer seemed to have began making mental preparations for such a potential ordeal. In Imperator Tavlar, the Chiss found a spirit that was as concerned with efficiency and prosperity as he was- and not with personal morality or individual glory, like Jedi or Sith. Although he showed it not, the Csillan was somewhat relieved, as the culture of arrogance once bred within Ascendancy space against all other spacefarers seemed to be as he once thought, only a social mechanism.

"I am pleased to see we are of like mind on such prospects, your highness. I will begin preparations at once, and contact corporate interests which may be of use in such a monumental venture. The Chiss Remnants will not stay idle and simmer in our lost glories. I promise most assuredly that you will find a diligent effort in the coming days, weeks and months. The seeds that will now be sown will one day blossom in additional prosperity for the Order." Mithrad spoke, combining a verbose language with a strong conviction.

"The Atrivis Pocket will be pacified, for the glory of the Chiss and the Imperial Order."
He uttered with certainty, before pausing thoughtfully.

"Forgive my presumption, but you started this galactic endeavor a soldier, correct? A man's approach is very much so molded by his past and upbringing. No doubt has such created strong bonds amidst the imperial Order's powerful army to their sovereign, and a great source of internal stability for the nation and it's people."
The sharp-featured man then turned, unfolding his arms to peer back towards the Sovereign.
"I am a bureaucrat by trade and birth; it is my long-perfected duty to, proverbially speaking, make sure the mag-trains arrive on time, always. An eye for such is an eye for the minute details of schedule, formality and social theatrics. If the Imperator would so wish, I would offer my services as a Secretary and aide."

Irveric Tavlar | Corinne

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
RECONSTITUTED SEVENTH FLEET
CHISS SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

​

"The sins and mistakes of the past are not to be done again. Those who cling to tradition are doomed to repeat horrid history again and again. The Galactic Empire, the First Order and Fel Empire are all states I admire, philosophies I fully understand and respect. But in the end- they failed. I will not tread the same broken path. Just as you and your people should not with the Chiss Ascendancy. It survived for several millenia, bringing order to the Unknown Regions but clearly- they were ill prepared for what they faced." Irveric says, letting off a deep exhale before he brings the cigar to his lips once more with a deep draw of the sweetened herb.

"We are not going to make the same mistake." He iterates.

"The Trade Federation is certainly the New Imperial Order's most vital partner in the private sector. Corporate ilk are not always the most trustworthy but- for all the war has done we have control of the Braxant Run and now free trade through the Hydian Way. We may be still indebted to the price of the Civil War, but economically our future and foundation are both enviable." He explains.

"You'd be correct. I started a soldier...and I hardly ever ceased. The campaign against the Sith Empire and a great deal of the war effort- I designed, planned and executed personally. But I understand conquering, the battle of wills, is only one of many one must conquer to build an Empire. That is where the likes of yourself come in- if you wish to serve the Order, I will take your services and commission you into the New Imperial Central government as soon as we finish speaking." He says, eventually ashing out the cigar.

"We have a great deal of space to normalize, Mithrad. You will play a vital role in that. For the good of our Empire- and your people. Their fates are now one in the same." He ensures.

Mithrad | Corinne

 

[Mithrad]

IMPERATOR TAVLAR'S COMMAND OFFICES
SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
CHISS SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

As the Imperator concluded on such notes, Mithrad's head tilted rightwards slightly, before it bowed in a solem acknowledgement of the Order's supreme leader's words. His traits wrinkled slightly, with creases at the tips of his eyelids following thin lips in a faint, stately smile. The man remained in a formal, utterly calculated straight posture, his demeanor only further depicting that he had many years of practice in complete self-control.

"Understood. Contact will be made with the Trade Federation, and I will labor to expand and optimize your upper bureaucracy. In time, the regime that was once a rogue state in Nirauan will bear the capacities to rule over all of Sith space, and perhaps more, by the will of the Imperator."

The Chiss brought his jackboots together in a slick knock, before lifting a firm, straight hand and offering a universal military-state salute to the commander-in-chief, before departing for the time being.

Irveric Tavlar | Corinne