Private Soldier Side

[Irveric Tavlar]

Nirauan // Hand Of Thrawn // Imperial Bastion​

Invincible​

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In duality there came remarkable parallels. A vague recognition of the Grayson Imperator drove Irveric to ever summon the man. When he'd first ascended to the rank of Major General in the Sith Imperial Legions, Cedric contested over the core before he was struck cold on Brentaal. A crusader against the Sith Empire - the torch of penance seemed to be immaterially passed to another in Tavlar. As he rose up through the ranks of the Sith Empire until he sat a position of high command as Lord General, conquest grew waring. The atrocities were wearing and took a straining toll on the man all the while he was forced to fight for an identity which was well and truly warped.

The soul of the Imperial, the very being which willed the galaxy into eras of order and security had melted into a grotesque beast co-opted to serve at the heel of their Sith overlords. It was a deeply demeaning dynamic, no Sith-Imperial Legionnaire would ever see the true fruits of their toil as countless worlds were buried underneath annihilating conquer and the spoils volleyed back to the Sith-Imperial crown worlds. No sane man could spend his life a cog in this rotten machine and thus, Irveric Tavlar declared the Sith Order assembled in its nigh entirety parasites to their faces, unworthy of the Empire which they did not build. An Empire built by men like Irveric and those who followed him to no small risk of themselves.

What could ever be gained from a meeting between the Jedi Master and the Imperial Warlord was a difficult appraisal. Though shared an ambition between, both men were rigid in their doctrine, in their beliefs. An Empire with no Emperor, the Sovereign awaited Cedric within the Hand of Thrawn. Once the seat of power to the Empire of The Hand, it was a symbolically fitting crown to the New Imperial Order. Awaiting to receive the scorned Man in Black, Irveric stood in the fortresse's receiving hangar bay himself in placid anticipation.

Within the armored uniform of black, grey and red of the New Imperial Order - Tavlar certainly was a man of martial origin. A man whose exploits during the Sith Imperial conflict with the Silver Jedi Order on Kintan and the Mandalorian terrorist cell known as the 'Network' on Mandalore had reached the core in errant, parceled transmissions only truly brought into the forefront upon the New Imperial Order's coalition with the Galactic Alliance. A controversial move within both nations but even still, a tactful and necessary one. Upon the first look at the Traitor General, his brutalist career was immediately evident in the shrapnel scars, blaster burns and violently protruding beskar horn embedded his skull set above the eyepatch from his wounds sustained at Sundari.

A soldier through and through taking the mantle of a warlord in defiance.

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Motivations for meeting with this new Imperator were complex, and not wholly cemented in Cedric's mind. There was the possibility of an alliance, though in that sense the NIO already had him. Any that fought the Sith were allies, though that certainly would not be the case once Bastion fell. Of all the galactic powers, Cedric still held a modicum of loyalty to the Galactic Alliance. Not for its leadership, for whom he had great disdain, but for the peoples of his kingdom and Imperium. The government might have changed, but many of the people still remembered the man that had cast the remnants of the empire from the core.

No, above all things it was curiosity that brought the Essonian aboard the Invincible. Curiosity had ever been his vice, the one seductress he could never deny. The nature of this new empire would stem form its ruler, as the Grayson Imperium had, and Cedric was still uncertain as to whether this was a 'good' man, for lack of a better term. More importantly, he was uncertain if trusting the NIO was worth the effort, and whether or not they would be a threat to his people once Bastion had fallen.

The Jedi arrived on his own. He came through perfectly legal channels, hitching a ride from one transport to the next. He'd booked a small hotel room once arriving, and had even taken it upon himself to shower and launder his robes. Given his current lifestyle of roughing it almost entirely, such was a show of great respect.

Brown robes still stained with bit of crimson that simply would not come out of the fabric colored his form as he strode through the star destroyer. Hints of phrik battleplate poked out from the tattered cloth, and the long hilt of his new blade hung openly at his belt. His face was clad in a mass of phrik and steel, with the cowl drawn just over its apex.

"Imperator," the word was spoken with a near mocking tone. That title had not been held by a galactic head of state in decades until he'd taken up the title. That a new one should rise as soon as his government revoked his titles had been particularly amusing. He was not so arrogant to believe that the lord of the NIO might have been inspired by him, but this call to a private meeting did make the possibility more tangeable, and the meeting itself a bit lighter in tone.

"You wished to meet me?"

Irveric Tavlar

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

"Likewise." He'd responded in regards to the Imperator title. Though Grayon's Imperium operated from Noble strata and Tavlar's order from stratocratic leaders and warlords they converged at least in the formalities and aims of their leaders. Separated by a stark schism of doctrine, even still their aim was still the end and undoing of the Sith Empire. To purge the darkness, even if now it seemed as though Irveric had little difficulty allying with them.

"I did. I had seen you when the Galactic Alliance had formed, Unity Day." Not as if he truly had to explain any of that. He'd been well aware of Cedric's exploits during his service to the Sith Empire, even if he'd never met the Dominion, the Rebel Alliance or his Imperium on the field whilst deployed on other campaigns across the expanse of crimson no Sith Imperial soldier had never heard of Cedric Grayson. Slowly he began to lead the pair from this hangar bay and down a corridor of cold florescence and fortified steel.

"I'd be ignorant to ignore the parallels that exist between us, Grayson." Irveric stated outright.

"Where my origins are far more humble than yours...even still we are men cut of the same cloth I can only believe. Forged, made and unmade on the field of battle, the fires of war. I'm sure you have the nightmarish visions as I do. Though we'd been opposed where I was conscripted into the service of the Sith Empire and you, a Jedi...we are adversaries no longer." The Sovereign Imperator said as if to clear the air on a more personal level.

"Because I chose to rebel. The Sith Empire...is an insidious, despicable and parasitic entity unto the Galaxy. I would not perish without seeing its undoing, I know feel the same...but even so. I need to understand...why you failed, each attempt you'd carried out unto them. So that I- we, do not repeat the same mistakes." Irveric states sternly, not cloistering any of his sentiment behind shrouded meaning.

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The heaviness of the room weighed heavily upon him. Attempts at brief mirth were met with cold reality. The Essonian's brow furrowed beneath his mask as he cast his gaze to the ground, the lord of the NIO's question catching him momentarily off guard. there were certain parallels between the two of them, that much was true, but the chasm between them remained endlessly wide. Alliances beyond those with the closest of companions were beyond him now, where as Irveric had forged himself a small empire.

Ironic.

"I lacked strength of character." Cedric answered honestly as he reached up to draw back his cowl. Though still clad in his helm, the Essonian was at least offering some measure of rapport. "The Sith are relentless. They are beasts in all but name. They will scourge the stars to see a single man dead. One cannot meet insanity with rationality, and that is why I have failed."

The words fell from him with little thought. This 'Imperator' had asked a question, and Cedric answered honestly. His life had been little more than a string of mistakes, but he was not so unwise as to ignore the lessons in those failures. Time and again, conflict with the Sith and those like them had taught him a sole lesson. The compassion he reserved for his enemies was misplaced, and the galaxy did not care how much he sacrificed to see them undone. There was no moral good, no right. No good or evil: simply suffering on one end or the other. Better his enemies struggled.

"Many times, I have stayed my hand. Many times, I have given up victory to preserve a handful of lives. I would not venture to say they were mistakes, but they bought me failures. To neglect your army in favor of ideals is to accept total failure," the words were spoken with a personal bitterness. The Jedi Code taught peace, but it lacked the nuance required to wage true war. He'd been forced to learn its true lessons on the field, and many had lost their lives in that bloody education.

"War is hell. Accept it. Embrace it. Become it. That will bring you victory. Anything less will see you as little more than a slave. The Sith value genetics, and one without the empyrean's touch is little more than an animal. You are a starved hound to them. They will overlook your strengths. Embrace their ignorance, and tear out their throats."

Irveric Tavlar