Faction Sons of the Empire

[Adera Vellas]

P A G E // C L A I M E D

B Y // A N T I - T A R K // G A N G​

Location: Fortress Imperator, Bastion
Tag: Melvain Braxis Marcus Bastion Kanollic II Vethres

"In my honest opinion on the matter; Moff Vellas. The Decree would only empower the chiss to fight to the last man to protect their homes. Instead of absolute hatred for the Brotherhood of the Maw who annihilated their homes they would redirect that hate towards the Empire. The Tarkinist Administration is making the same mistakes as the Ancient Galactic Empire which cost them dominion of the galaxy. By purposely enacting decree's that will spawn an even greater rebellion. Such a thing that we don't need at this time with our war against the Galactic Alliance unfolding"

At least someone shared her view on something, and was willing to be forthright. She wondered how indicative this might or might not be of wider sentiments. Rarely did a Moff speak so openly like this, though Kanollic was unlike many Moffs. At his age, and with a respected scion, he had little to worry about long term blowback.

"I admit the decree was an extreme response, I would have preferred a more tactical solution but that doesn't mean it was unwarranted or even unnecessary" Moff Bastion offered his own thoughts on the matter "It may be that I may be able to help oversee the more practical elements of the Chiss redistribution and I can assure you cruelty for cruelty's sake has never been-

The crack of blaster fire rang out across the hall, followed by the rising swell of pandemonium and chaos. Adera felt an almost inhuman sense of detachment, her adrenaline up and training kicking in: low profile, look to the exits, head on a swivel. She could almost see the pattern of scattered bystanders and cordons forming before it happened. She was no stranger to these sorts of events.

"Behind me Moffs,"

Adera widely complied, readying the hidden dagger under her uniform. She was not going to be caught off-guard.

'What? A little drama, an' everyone starts losing their good sense of reason all of a sudden? THE FETH'S THE MATTER - A LITTLE ORDERLY CALM JUST TOO BIG AN ASK IN THIS DAY AN' AGE?!?!?!'

Drama indeed. From her position some distance away, Adera could not help but roll her eyes at the prancing Regent's affectation and entrance.

'All attending personnel - FORM UP!!!!'

Well, appearances needs be kept, and Adera took the lead with the Moffs in forming up and genuflecting to their Imperator-in-all-but-name.

He definitely enjoyed this display of authority.

 

[Sylus (Γ059)]

Bastion. Fortress. Sylus looked up, past the awnings jutting like blades from the wall, over at the imposing flat walls of the Fortress Imperator, at the triangles of control that dominated the skyline. Icon of strength and unity. All united and bent to One Will.

Bastion. Shitheap. Sylus looked down. He remembered the slums of his youth, what few memories remained after... Everything. The shadow of the Sith looming everywhere, the grey souls of the subjects of the empire, and the squalor of the slums. The slums he knew were razed, eradicated during the war. But from his vantage point he could see new ones, festering and spreading, perverse life under lifeless iron.

Bastion. Home. Heart of the empire, locale to the dreams he still dreamt, and the last time he'd known a life before... Well, he'd never really know a life before killing. Woody. Kilgore. Cran. Duvad. Briene. Halin. Dead. Dead. Dead. All gone. Life snuffed out under the grinding wheels of war. He looked out at the sky, the skycars humming placidly in neat rows against the dull sky.

The Imperator is on his throne, and all is right with the world.

<"Rama.">

Sylus tapped his Comms to reply to the audio beads implanted at the base of his ear drum, subvocalising:

<"Raider Actual, this is Rama, go.">

<"Protocol Fetter Plain is in effect. Report to your station.">

<"Copy. Out.">

Breathing in the air of Bastion one more time, Sylus slipped on his helmet, the seals hissing while the HUD lit up, status messages flashing across his eyes.

Time to get to work.

 

[Jan Beroya]

DEMICI HEIR
THE EMPIRE
FORTRESS IMPERATOR | BASTION
TAG: Pietro Demici | Enzo Demici | Cosimo Demici | Antonio Borgias | Aoki-Barran Mira | Jorus Fel

WEAVER OF DREAMS​

Her brothers really were equally idiotic.

She just let out an exasperated smile as she watched Cosimo clip Enzo before Contessina elbowed her husband. Some things never changed. But her face brightened at the arrival of her other uncle, Antonio Borgias and his wife, Evangelina.

Greeting them both in a simultaneous embrace.
"It's good to see you both again." she said as she drew away. "How long would you all be staying?" she asked the group. "Dinner at the Estate should definitely be done before you all leave." she added.

Just then, shots rang out through the hall. As expected, the entire gathering of soldiers and Knights kicked into immediate action, one Melvain Braxis deflecting a bolt from her before she had even had time to respond.

Within moments, the situation was under control, however, while the Lord-Regent DECEASED Erskine Barran called for order in his usual way while entering past the group of Demici's. At the same time, Raina caught sight of Mira making her way through the crowd toward their group.
"Sensei."

The girl was respectful as always, but the Inquisitor could sense her underlying emotions almost instantly, concern threatening to cloud Raina's judgement of delivering final teachings to her Squire.
Leaning over to Mira, she lowered her voice. "Calm yourself, Mira. You're to be Knighted to the Empire now. None of this should trouble you anymore." she said sincerely before straightening up with a smile to Mira and her own family once more.

But before they could continue catching up, a relatively handsome Private approached the group with apologies to everyone - even saluting her fool of a younger brother before his hazel eyes looked straight at her.
"--but would you grace me with a dance, Lady Inquisitor?"
She looked at him with a surprised but bemused smirk.
"It would not be good etiquette if I turned you down, now would it, Sir?" she quipped before taking his offered hand. "Please excuse me, uncles, aunt." she added as she was led to the floor as music resumed after the stint of drama.

But before the pair could properly start swaying on the dancefloor, the Lord-Regent's booming voice bellowed over the crowd.
'All attending personnel - FORM UP!!!!'
Raina raised a brow at Jorus as they danced while soldiers gave the Barran quizzical looks before they started to comply.

"You can't very well ignore your commanding officer, now can you, Private First Class Fel?" she asked him with a smirk.

 

[Sabe Aner]

Location: Fortress Imperator | Ravelin | Bastion
Tags: Marcus Bastion
Wearing:

Spoiler

Sabe Aner made a few circles around the party. Trying to find the most…interesting. Sabe wore many hats in service to the Empire. Mostly because she got bored with one assignment more than she was that good at so many things. The Red Devils were her current pet project. She liked the idea of being in charge of a dozen hunks of metal with tremendous firepower. She also had Sabe’s Snoops. A series of intelligence operatives at her beck and call looking for any bit of interesting information.

At this party the best she could find to help out her current employer Velran Kilran Moff of New Alderaan, was to listen in on a group of Moffs who had assembled to discuss things. Getting close to some of the higher ranking Imperials seemed like it was going to cause trouble and Sabe wasn’t here for all that.

The talk seemed to be over the Chiss people. Cold, boring people. But a threat if left unmanaged or an asset if they could be made to serve. Overall something Veleran would want to know about, but nothing Sabe was very interested in. Then Sabe felt a spike of betrayal from off in another direction, moments before a blast was shot at the Grand Moff. Feeling in the Force and through her inherent empathy that the treachery was not complete even after the assassin was disposed of Sabe took a step in the direction of the action, only to be tackled to the ground.

She looked up to see Moff Bastion on top of her, protecting the lady in his presence she assumed, though she was not one needing protection. Some of the soldiers present were quick to move to the aid of the Grand Moff and Admiral. Sabe it seemed was better served to stay put.

“No pardon necessary,” Sabe answered with a smile. “So long as you’ll be a gentleman and help a lady off the ground.” Before the action could be taken the Lord Regent entered and commanded order. “Perhaps accompanying me to answer the Lord-Regent’s call as well?” she asked with a weak smile that even her pheromones, empathy and Force talent would not be able to convince Moff Bastion of being disingenuous.​

 

[Jorus Fel]

THE EMPIRE
HOUSE OF FEL

Jan Beroya
​

"You'd love that, wouldn't you, Lady Demici?" he smirked back. "Wouldn't be the first time for either of us to disobey orders from above." Jorus remarked with a quip. Neither had truly complied with their bloodline's expectations or rather requirements. One way or another, both had strayed off from their paths paved in gold. The only difference was that Rodrik Fel's 'executioner' blade had been far sharper than Demici's, cutting him off from the line of succession.

He was getting real talkative today, wasn't he? The man who'd usually be as live as a statue otherwise.

"But you're right... I'm far less wary from my father than from the Lord-Regent -- especially one stranded on a hoverchair." the stormtrooper reluctantly stepped back from the Serennian waltz and its sweet perfume. He softy released her hand with a deliberate delay.​

 

[Marcus Bastion]

Location: Fortress Imperator, Bastion
Tag: Kanollic II Vethres Melvain Braxis Adera Vellas Sabe Aner Aschwin Vethres

Moff Bastion had drawn his sidearm an SE-14r, during the disruption. It was a ceremonial piece more than anything. The thing was ancient passed down through the family to every member that became a Moff. Bastion remembered looking at it enviously over his fathers fireplace. Honestly one of the main reasons his childhood dream to become a Moff started was that so one day he could play with his father's antique pistol. Bastion tried to shake himself out of his childhood nostalgia. It was one of the possible reactions to imminent threat. Thinking back on childhood innocence. Bastion knew from experience that the thought most men thought of as they were dying was of their mothers. Atleast he hadn't started trembling

Fortunately there was a rather lovely distraction to focus on.

“No pardon necessary,” Sabe answered with a smile. “So long as you’ll be a gentleman and help a lady off the ground.” Before the action could be taken the Lord Regent entered and commanded order. “Perhaps accompanying me to answer the Lord-Regent’s call as well?” she asked with a weak smile that even her pheromones, empathy and Force talent would not be able to convince Moff Bastion of being disingenuous.

"Of course Madame" Bastion side gently lending a hand to the lovely lady.

"I would be delighted and honoured madame" Bastion bowed in a courtly manner and an exaggerated flourish. "Ah I forget myself. Speaking of being a gentlemen I should introduce myself and my companions."

"As for myself I'm Moff Marcus Bastion" Bastion said his hand over his heart with an incline of a bow.

"Please allow me to introduce Moff's: Adera Vellas , Melvain Braxis , Kanollic II Vethres ." Bastion introduced each of them in turn. One of the more personal benefits of developing contacts at events such as this was being able to show off. Particularly to beautiful ladies.

Speaking of developing contacts

"And this brave Knight must be.." Marcus tried to rack his brain, he'd referred to Vethres as father, trying to remember what Moff Kanollic's heirs name was for a few floundering seconds, before it came to him. "Sir Aschwin Vethres heir to House Vethres. Thank you for your assistance Sir Knight"

"May I enquire to whom I referring to? I'm sure we haven't met as I would never forget such a lady as lovely as yourself"

Bastion continued to smile and make conversation as they took position as the formalities of the event began.

 

[Sabe Aner]

Location: Fortress Imperator | Ravelin | Bastion
Tags: Marcus Bastion | Melvain Braxis | Adera Vellas | Kanollic II Vethres | Aschwin Vethres
Wearing:

Spoiler

Sabe took the Moff’s hand and pulled herself up off the floor. She gave a brief brush off and then wrapped her arm around Moff Bastion’s as he introduced the others of the group. Sabe knew the names. You can’t serve a Moff without hearing the names of others.

“It is good to meet such good leaders of our glorious Empire,” Sabe said with a bow of her shoulders towards the group. The move was made a little awkward by the dress she was wearing instead of the usual jumpsuit that she was accustomed to. “And you too Knight Vethres. I have heard all of your names in my service of the Empire, so as I said it is pleasant to meet you.”

Moff Bastion led her into introducing herself. “Sabe Anser. Imperial Knight. Unofficial Commander of the Red Devils, heavy armored squadron. Even less official aid to Moff Velran Kilran of New Alderaan. I like to refer to myself as a hot pink shadow. Everyone seems to notice me, but by the time I have left no one really knows why I was there.”

She gave a fake ditzy giggle before continuing. “At least that’s when I’m on a professional mission. When I’m in attendance at a gala I’m just here to enjoy a little break from the rigors of helping the Imperial wheels turning. And honor some of my worthy men.”​

 

[Kriegan Tavlar]

PRODIGAL SON
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
Katja Javik | Siyndacha Aerin | OPEN

He glanced the way of Siyndacha for a moment, eyeing her own excitement to the spectacle that only served to widen his own smile, dimming it only to speak to her in a hushed tone. Part of him wanted to dredge up the situation that occurred moments before, address it and move on but ultimately, they'd skipped right to that last part. It was his night to enjoy again, other problems could wait until later to address. While it dug into his diligent nature to think in such a manner- assumptions had already been made from loose threads of context. The night of revelry had already been threatened twice over now. While it dug into his diligent nature to leave such an issue go unaddressed, he wasn't going to string himself up in more anxiety over matters with a woman.

"I can only assume he's just corralling the masses for now. Might be a minute until the formalities are squared away. Wouldn't be so tense, Knight." Kriegan remarks with a grin toward her, eyeing her standing at nigh parade rest as the others continue to slowly gather themselves before the podium.

"But I suppose that's consistent with the Knights I've interacted with. Even with a few drinks that discipline doesn't waver. Hell, this is the most I've seen you smile- ever, Siyndacha." He says with a faint laugh.

"Good to be away from the fray for a bit, isn't it? Back home no less. I don't mind deployment so much but- it's already begun to ware on me a bit. Even if we're both a bit green, I already see it all piling on." He says, his expression dimming a bit as he immaterially looks down the barrel of only more conflict to come, crossing his arms over his chest again at the thought- eyes flicking back up to the podium for a moment. He arches a brow for a moment before shifting his gaze back to hers.

"Have to make the most of nights like this though. They're only bound to come around for people like us so often, wouldn't you think?." He asks, flashing a smile her way again.

 

[Hall Mannarra]

Fortress Imperator | Bastion
181st Armored Division
Keylee Linth

​

"My apology sir Hall"

The young lad broke into a hearty laughter at her words. The way she spoke with such sincerity, accompanied with her kind, heartwarming smile, he couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of being likened to some noble. “Oh God that’s even worse! Now you’re making me feel like I’m royalty!” he said once his laughter dwindled to a chuckle. He couldn’t help but giggle at the idea, going forward. The young tank crewman slowly shook his head at the thought. ”Sir Hall,” the kid muttered to himself with a mocking tone accompanied by a chuckle, but all was in good faith from the lad.

The more he interacted with the finely dressed young woman standing before him, the more he relaxed; visibly at that. He had even begun throwing light hearted quips at her. His perturbations of both the past and the present were swept away in her presence. Although he was not self aware of it at the heat of the moment, the anxiety within his heart was no more, for the time being.

"If I've learned anything from my friends. That you never listen to any advice they give you, after you've had too much to drink"

”Words of wisdom,” Hall said with a polite chuckle after listening to her speak in the same attentive nature she had shown her. ”I best keep that in mind when I’m out drinking with the boys on shore leaves,” the man continued; raising the glass to his lips, the man gave the drink another shot. A similar reaction to his first try occured not long after the crystal clear liquid burned down his throat. ”Okay,” he could finally say in between coughs. ”That’s the last time I’m trying… whatever this is,” the man finished with a grimace as he lowered the glass, casting a glance at the crowd around them.

"I rather now be here... I feel so out of place"

An answer to his inquiry, the young man could not understand what she had meant with that sentiment. <I rather now be here…> the man repeated her words in his mind in silence. It didn’t make any sense to the naive young man, however. Wasn’t this lavish hall, crowded with high ranking officials from both the civilian and military wings of The Empire alike, her primary source of stress, currently?

A polite smile emerged from the young man’s features in silent response. He paid no mind to her sentiment at the time, but he was happy she did not feel as overwhelmed as he was not long ago. Wholly engaged in their polite conversation, he continued to listen to her in silence, only turning his visage away from hers to spare a brief glance at the crowd of people near them on just a few occasions.

He could make out the familiar silhouette of his comrades amongst the crowd, now that they joined the gala, dressed in similar attire to Hall; their jet-black full dress uniforms, complemented with an equally black standard issue military beret, adorned with a silver cap badge depicting the mighty Cataphract, signifying they were members of The Imperial Army’s armored corps.

"My very passionate instructor found it a teachable moment to attend... Something about 'this is the time for you all to learn what really goes on and happens within our Empire!'"

Although the woman’s imitation of her instructor earned her another heartfelt laugh, the failed impression of their voice adding up to the hilarity, the mention of an instructor had him unintentionally tilt his head to the side with intrigue. That meant she was… a Cadet?

Connecting the dots in a brief moment passing with his pondering, he then understood why she had referred to him as “Sir” earlier in their conversation. It was the discipline instilled in all of them from the earliest stages of their training. They were all, obviously, expected to treat their superiors with respect. But in environments outside of the academies and garrisons, such discipline left its place to some form of leisure in certain cases, especially if you were in close contact with your superiors most of the time; even more so if one served with them in combat zones.

He couldn’t remember the last time he called Kenth “sir”, their tank’s former tank commander.

The fact she was not a civilian revealed to him now, he wondered what her military occupation was; what was she being trained to do in her time of service in The Imperial Army? He would be but a moment away from asking that, his lips parted to voice his inquiry, when a boisterous voice boomed from the other side of the large gala hall. The young man would turn around to look at the source of the tapping noise and the owner of the voice.

TAP - TAP - TAP

'Fashionably late as always, so I am! No changes there or anything - but it's still nice to see the party has ONCE AGAIN started without my presence! OH HOW FETHING WONDERFUL INDEED!!!!'​

The kid blinked a couple of times in complete surprise. Was his eyes deceiving him? Was that the Lord-Regent himself!?

'What? A little drama, an' everyone starts losing their good sense of reason all of a sudden? THE FETH'S THE MATTER - A LITTLE ORDERLY CALM JUST TOO BIG AN ASK IN THIS DAY AN' AGE?!?!?!'

'All attending personnel - FORM UP!!!!'​

As the crowd in the gala hall began to form up before the podium at the Lord-Regent’s command, the young man, eyes widened in the sudden surge of apprehension, froze for a brief moment in complete bemusement, but would be quick to follow suit and carry out his order. ”I-I guess that’s us,” he muttered to the young woman beside him before he walked away to join the rest of his unit, whom already taken formation by now; on his way towards them in the formation, the man left the glass in his hands on a bistro table on his path.

Wholly unaware of the ruckus that had occured in the balcony, namely the attempts at the lives of a Moff and an Admiral he had briefly conversed with, the man joined up with his unit at the back of the formation, following procedure through and through. He had a flurry of questions in his mind, namely why, by the Throne, he and his unit was called here for this occasion, but the young man figured it would be made clear soon enough.

 

[Kanollic II Vethres]

Kanollic II Vethres
Chief Inspector
Patriarch of House Vethres
Moff of Bal Talmshaa

Location: Fortress Imperator ; Revelin
Tags: Marcus Bastion ; Melvain Braxis ; Adera Vellas ; Sabe Aner ; Aschwin Vethres
Post Number:
FOUR

The entire affair with the Admiral and the Grand Moff seemingly dissipated as soon as the Lord-Regent of the Empire DECEASED Erskine Barran arrived along with the Warden of the Imperial Knights Lucien Dooku . He gazed over at Marcus Bastion who seemed to do well for himself in a flirting game with this woman before them and helped her up with grand gesture. She gave off an aura of untrustworthiness at least to him. Something about her didn't seem right.

Bastion sought fit to introduce himself and the other moffs within their own small council as it where. And mention his son who had arrived to defend both him and the other moffs alongside Melvain Braxis . Leaning on his wooden cane for just a brief moment as the woman introduced herself as "Sabe Anser; a fellow Imperial Knight and an Aide to Moff Velran Kilran." that information about being an aide to another moff sent a even bigger message to him to leave the woman before she could spy for him.

"Excuse me, Moffs. The event is starting and we best take our places." Kanollic II said moving away from them to take his spot within the crowd. Anything to get away from her at this moment in time.

​

 

[Aschwin Vethres]

​

Aschwin Cassirer Vethres
Imperial Knight Templar
Heir of House Vethres
Shield of Bal Talmshaa
Commander of the 293rd

Location: Fortress Imperator ; Revelin
Tags: Marcus Bastion ; Melvain Braxis ; Adera Vellas ; Sabe Aner ; Kanollic II Vethres
Equipment:
Addlehorn Armor
Curved Lightsaber
Light Shield
Post Number:
FOUR

The unexpected event had ended as quickly as it arrived as Aschwin put away his curved lightsaber onto his belt hook. He noted Sabe Aner being on the ground covered by Moff Marcus Bastion and the following conversation that took place. It would seem that they both enjoyed flirting with each other instead of doing something productive in the name of the empire. It was like a siren attracting her next meal in the form of Bastion. But Aschwin noted upon the stage of the Lord-Regent DECEASED Erskine Barran and Warden Lucien Dooku .

"It was no problem, Moff Bastion." Aschwin replied when Marcus Bastion thanked him for his assistance. Moving his gaze towards Sabe Aner when she spoke about knowing the names due to her service within the empire. "It is pleasant to meet you as well." He replied with a mistrustful tone due to her strangeness. He was about to comment further when his father Kanollic II Vethres excused himself to make haste towards the spot where the moffs were supposed to be for the promotion ceremony.

"Excuse me, I must follow my father." Aschwin said with a slight bow before turning around and marching towards his father to join him.

​

 

[Keylee Linth]

Tag: Hall Mannarra | Open for Interaction
Location: Fortress Imperator | Bastion

Keylee felt relaxed and happy as she conversed with the one who insisted on being called 'Sir Hall', though it could be because she's a terrible lightweight girl who can't handle her liquor. No, she decided that it was a mix of enjoying talking with the Corporal and because she had almost emptied her glass for its content... god she was such a lightweight.

The actual Lord-regent arrived, no wonder her instructor wanted his cadets to attend. Ha, she would so rub it in her friend's faces that she got to see the Lord-regent since her friends are such big fangirls of the leader. The young girl nodded, turned around to find a place to place her glass, and saw that Hall had found his way to the formation that had started to form and quickly followed suit, not wanting to be the one who messed up in front of the Lord-regent of all people.

She quickly found her way in formation, standing beside Hall and looked a bit out of place compared to a lot of those in their uniforms... then again there were also a lot who wore fine dresses and suits, so she guess she wasn't completely alone and waiting for whatever the Lord-regent wanted to say.
​

 

[Aridius 'TK-1575']

ARIDIUS TK-5324 'CRIMSON'
HEAVY TROOPER

Location: Fortress Imperator
Interaction: OPEN

THEMATIC​

Crimson earned some valuable respite for the first time. How long has it been since he had last had a break from the constant heat of battle? Long has it been since NIO's invasion of Dothomir, his first incursion away from the Academy. Now, it was an Empire. Something earned, something united. Something to stand against the unrelenting tide of the Galaxy. Here, gathered with many of his fellow Stormtroopers and other Branches of its service, Crimson once more found himself alone. Alone. Holding a glass of whatever drinks were provided, adorned in a uniform of the Empire's choosing. He had a few ribbons, but not a lot. For, all he did was simply his duty. A Blaster-Cannon to name, all he did was pull the trigger. It didn't matter who it was, or where it was, all that mattered was that it was in the name of the Empire.

Now, in this very same Empire, he looked in awe at how peaceful everything was. Crimson drifted along with the other more grizzled troopers, sitting in the distant corner with their backs to the wall. A habit he picked up ever since the invasion of Operation Black Sabbath. Those Red Mists made any soldier protect their backside. He was seeing soldiers dressed in casual clothing, the females with dresses, and the males with their uniforms. Everything just seemed /normal/. How is /normality/ the opposite? Peace was an oxymoron, especially for the Troopers. A Heavy Trooper at that. Who wielded the most causality-producing weapon barring a Walker or calling in a TIE Fighter.

{ "Stop thinking about war, think about the drink in your hand. You might even meet a girl." } A more positive voice said in his head, and then another voice imagined the audible { THWA-THWA-THWA-THWA } of a Rotary Cannon in his hands. He couldn't stop thinking about the rhythmic cycle of massive red lasers scorching across the land. While this was happening, he set his drink down unto the table- Aridius-, no, Crimson is his name, couldn't think about those things while drinking.

{ "Man up, get a drink." } He thought again and lowered his hand. Without thinking, the drink slid toward Crimson's hand on his own. The glass fitted into his fingers as if he reached over. But Crimson didn't, it moved on his hand. He blinked and quickly looked around to see if anyone else saw. { "You haven't told anyone yet about that little secret." } The voice in his head came out again. It came out in Dathomir, a Witch dug deep into his soul and pulled out something that was somehow hidden since his birth. He didn't want to think about it.

​

 

[Jan Beroya]

I N Q U I S I T O R
THE EMPIRE
FORTRESS IMPERATOR | BASTION
TAG: Jorus Fel

WEAVER OF DREAMS​

"Wouldn't be the first time for either of us to disobey orders from above."

Raina smirked.
"That so?" she asked rhetorically with a snicker. "What makes you say that, Master Fel?" she asked, an impish glint in her eye. How little he knew. Or how different the two families were. But he did ring true on the straying away from the beaten path where her family was concerned. Cosimo was the golden example. Her name carried weight, but she was no direct heir.

Yet, there was other ways around that impasse.

With the call of the Lod-Regent, the Knight noticed a reluctance to the Private as he let go of her hand. How easily the Troopers crumbled in the face of one man - not even an enemy. A pity.

"Never thought someone of your standing to be a coward. What a shame." she quipped before she started drifting toward her family.

 

[Corvallis Tavlar]

IMPENITENT SON
Order of Imperial Knights
Kriegan Tavlar | Siyndacha Aerin | Katja Javik | OPEN

Heel cheaters muttered and clacked like a clutch of Imperial Parade Drummers fidgeting between rehearsals. The echoes of Corvallis' stride were cast sharply upon the halls of his upbringing. Each corner upon which the sound reverberated held an old memory unlocked by the nostalgia of their familiar sight. Involuntarily, a reminiscing smile crept across the young Tavlar's face as he traversed the foyer. All of the childish games, boyish roughhousing, and privileged shenanigans he and his brother Kriegan experienced in these halls suddenly felt like a not-so-distant past.

Despite the short distance between here and the Redoubt, Bastion never felt like home unless he was here. The wistful comforts of an estranged home served well enough to keep the cynical presumptions of his invitation restrained to the very back of Corvallis' mind. Previously he'd try to think of it from an external point of view, attempting to construct some plausible or beneficial practicality to it. He couldn't formulate one without a myriad of flaws and complications. Perhaps he'd been overthinking it, as was his wont. It was easier not to think about now that he was here, and thought spared to itself to doubt Kriegan was having the same fret.

Think of the devil, Corvallis thought as he spotted his brother from gaps in the crowded distance. A slight hustle overtook his pace as he marched deliberately through the crowd, the metal under his heel thumping rigidly into the ground with every step. He reached the edge of the small group after a deft and polite wading through the crowd, just behind the rightmost edge of Kriegan's field of view.

Corvallis and Kriegan stood at an identical height so precise it almost looked artificial. Though similar in physiognomic appearance, each of them had a distinct resemblance to a different parent, with Corvallis wearing the resemblance of their mother. Formal, well-fitting gray Knight's vestments complimented his slightly lither figure. Shoulder pads beneath the vestments added a signature imperial look, whilst accentuating his disciplined posture. Any flair in the threading of the Knight's formal dress was drowned in a homogenous gray that overtook every piece aside from a stygian belt.

"Second Lieutenant Tavlar," Corvallis accosted, a slight throw in his voice with an air of sarcasm, before continuing his stride into Kriegan's view. A grin crept across his face once his brother recognized him "I apologize if I am interrupting something," he insisted before adding; "Parade dress suits you," with an indicating nod.

 

[Pietro Demici]

Tags: Jan Beroya , Cosimo Demici, Enzo Demici , Antonio Borgias , Contessina Demici

To see so many of his family brought a joy to the Cardinal's face that he had not known in some time. Though he had been quite content within his political station, Pietro had often thought of the family that he had largely left behind. But there was no room for regret, just the excitement of getting to finally gather together once again.

Enzo was the first to find his way to the Cardinal, barreling forth as he planted a kiss on each of Pietro's cheeks. The following embrace was returned in kind as Pietro held the young man tightly for a moment. His sanctimonious demeanor fell to the wayside for a time as the Cardinal could feel himself falling into a level of natural comfort not often experienced when he was seeing to his duties. As he pulled away from Enzo, Pietro gave him a resounding pat on the shoulder.

"Not any more than you've lost, nephew. Does the Empire not feed their soldiers?"

A jovial grin produced itself as the Cardinal let out a slight chuckle. Had it been anyone else, Pietro may have had some harsher words to say in response to such a comment. To insult the Cardinal wasn't ever a wise move, and would often be met with verbal hellfire and brimstone. But to be a Demici allowed one many privileges, including the occasional jab at his imminence.

Before Pietro could address his niece, Cosimo was upon him even more swiftly than Enzo before, planting his own kiss on each of the Cardinal's cheeks.

"The wine is as great as ever, though you already know that Cosimo."

A quick wink followed as he threw an arm around each of his nephews, looking onward to Raina and Contessina as they made their own comments on the behavior of his two nephews.

"Young Demici men will always remain the same. Much like myself when I was their age, if you can imagine that."

He addressed Raina directly next, letting go of his nephews as she spoke of the wars that continued to plague the galaxy.

"Things are well on the home front. For all of the chaos of war, we've accomplished some incredible feats in rebuilding the Tingel Arm."

Pietro could sense the concern that lingered within his niece, likely due to the growing hostilities between the Galactic Alliance and the Empire. It had been a topic of discussion in Ashlan Command, as of late, and had yielded... mixed results. The future seemed uncertain, but the Cardinal knew where he stood. It would be with the people that liberated their home, and with his family that worked alongside them. But he would keep those comments to himself for now, as to avoid turning this reunion into a more somber one.

The next voice he heard was a pleasant and unexpected one, prompting the Cardinal to turn his attention to his brother Antonio and his wife. He hadn't seen Antonio in some time, as he had been quite busy tending to his own flock upon the planet of Epica. Pietro couldn't fault the man for being preoccupied with his duties, however, lest he risk making himself a hypocrite.

"Antonio! Evangelina! What a pleasant surprise! I pray things on Epica are going well."

Another resounding hug was delivered to his brother as the Cardinal embraced him tightly. Of all of his family, Anotonio held a particularly special place in his heart. He was one of the few that understood their shared calling in the same way as the Cardinal himself. He didn't expect the rest of them to understand, for he knew all too well how many yet felt about the Ashlan dogma.

"Indeed! The Prime Minister is as much of a Demici as any of us in that way. Only the finest of wines can satiate such fine palettes."

Another look shot over to Raina as she mentioned dinner.

"Of course, it has been far too long."

Just then, a shot rang out, prompting the Cardinal's head to snap toward the point of origin. He had forgone the usual presence of the Golden Veil as a means of protection, and what few members of the Holy Guard that had accompanied him to the planet remained back at the shuttle for the moment. He knew that there was always a risk of violence at Imperial gatherings, but he also knew of their ability for swift action. As was anticipated, the incident was over nearly before it even began, with several individuals bringing the hostility to a close. Pietro leaned in toward his family, speaking only quiet enough for them to hear in an attempt to keep the conversation light.

"Well, it wouldn't be an Imperial celebration without at least one shot fired, I suppose."

It was then at Lord Regent Erskine called for the attending personnel to form up. Pietro offered a small, respected bow of the head as the man passed by before shifting his appearance over to their nearby table.

"I suppose it's time we found a spot proper. Shall we?"

 

[Siyndacha Aerin]

ERRANT HEIR
THE ORDER OF IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
FORTRESS IMPERATOR - RAVELIN - BASTION
Kriegan Tavlar | Corvallis Tavlar | Katja Javik | Open

Infectious was the right word for the general mood amongst the gathered, the excitement of the incoming celebration of their people. A pin was put in the subject of the events that had already occurred, for the sake of eking some enjoyment out of what remained of this rare night away, but it was just a pin. A temporary stopgap… but all of it was nothing that couldn’t wait. And all of it had made her see that being here wasn’t simply an obligation - it was the space between. A precious reprieve from what loomed on the horizon.

One bright waystation in the dark expanse.

Her? Tense? She couldn’t help it. Not after the years that saw her, in a sense, stripped down and re-formed into this disciplined, diligent Knight of the Empire that she was; his pointing it out, with that grin, made her conscious of it… but not self-conscious. Warm, though.

"But I suppose that's consistent with the Knights I've interacted with. Even with a few drinks that discipline doesn't waver. Hell, this is the most I've seen you smile- ever, Siyndacha."

Well, now she was grinning, and a few notes of a light laugh infected the words of her response that followed, “It can’t be helped,” she admitted, “this atmosphere,” a hand came free to indicate the general area, and the other slipped to her side, “good company,” she briefly tipped her head toward him, with that, and dropped the hand, “I’m glad I decided to come.”

Even despite all that had occurred already. Even then.

"Good to be away from the fray for a bit, isn't it? Back home no less. I don't mind deployment so much but- it's already begun to ware on me a bit. Even if we're both a bit green, I already see it all piling on."

“It is,” she agreed. Maybe being home so soon wasn’t so bad, after all. She had to take the moments of relative peace where they appeared, however they did. “Mm,” she sounded, the brightness of her expression tamped down a touch, when he went on to speak of the effects of their reality, and the predictable strife of their path. She nodded slowly, her gaze flicking away for a moment. “As do I.”

Siyndacha took a shallow breath and held it, unwilling to give in to the claws of pensive thought scratching at the back of her mind. She could wade in speculation about the weeks and months to come some other time.

"Have to make the most of nights like this though. They're only bound to come around for people like us so often, wouldn't you think?."

She breathed out and looked at Kriegan again, with an easy smile that reached her eyes. “Unfortunately few and far between,” she replied, “I suspect,” she folded her arms loosely, one elbow cupped, the other held, “but that makes them brighter,” her brow lofted, faintly, “fonder.”

Words from the vantage point of so much lived in relatively few years, that might have threatened to pull her into thought once again if not for yet another encroachment on their night. One that addressed her unit leader by rank and name. She turned slightly, looking to the newest person to inject into their company…

[ Oh… ]

The face pricked at her memory, a vague thing, calling through years. She peered at the newcomer, trying to put a finger on it, her silvered gaze then flicking to Kriegan.

[ ...ah! ]

It clicked.

"I apologize if I am interrupting something,"

She gave her head a light shake, returning her attention to the somewhat different face. One she only recognised in passing, vague memories of the Force-gifted Tavlar glimpsed traversing the same halls of the Redoubt as she had, boosted by similarity to his brother. They’d been moving at different speeds, for different reasons.

“No, not at all,” it was her turn to say, with a smile.

​

 

[Aoki-Barran Mira]

Jan Beroya could read Mira like the back of her hand. Mira dipped her head at Raina's words. But did Raina understand why she was nervous? It was not her doubts about the Tarkinist regime. It was the ceremony itself. Firstly, she was to be knighted by the most important figure of the Imperial Knights, Lucien Dooku himself. Would Mira be able to perform the ceremony in the proper respects and behaviors? Mira hardly messed up in regards to traditions, but this event was so big to her as well. With how she struggled on Ilum, losing to a Jedi who targeted her morality, and scarring her, she wondered if she even deserved to be an Imperial Knight, or even an Imperial, at all. She still loathed the events of Ilum, and the current events concerning the Chiss only further boosted her doubts.

But tonight, just tonight, for her big moment, she yearned to cast her doubts and insecurities aside. She was to become an Imperial Knight, before Lucien Dooku himself. She closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh. Her mentor, currently on the dance floor with Jorus Fel , was right. She needed to settle her thoughts.

As fanfare began, Mira pulled her kasa hat down in respect. She gazed over to Raina and Pietro Demici with a glint of self frustration in her eyes. She gave her master a look of 'I trust you.' She closed her eyes, and despite standing, entered some light meditation in attempts to center herself.

As the ceremony carried on, she released her negative emotions into the Force. Tonight, she just wanted things to be perfect.
​

 

[Margo Liaeris]

STALKER

Objective: To the Empire!
Location: Bastion - Fortress Imperator
Tags: Hal Vaiken | Kriegan Tavlar | Castor E-196 | Lily Stevens | Leto Karazyn | Katja Javik | Kav Canthar | Ruaridh Aodh | Aschwin Vethres | FN-999

Like a Ghost

When everything settled, Margo gave a sigh of relief. The action against Colonel Nines almost made her heart leap from out of her chest, but the Colonel had lived up to his reputation and dispatched the would-be assassins without much difficulty. The presence of Erskine Barran, it would seem, would do what Fortress Security could not and restore order.

The entire mood seemed to change when he entered, and when he called for everyone to form up. Margo joined her squadmates in position, rigid Imperial discipline taking over as she stood straight and firm. The ceremony was about to begin, and hopefully not be interrupted again.

 

[Tulan Kor]

He was dressed, impeccably.

His uniform was without a single fault- save for a single, out of place

His shoes were seemingly reflective, polished to a shine. His shave was less than an hour prior to the event.

The parts of his face that still grew hair, that was.
​

There was no hiding the fact that he was once a very good looking man, a handsome Commando. But force lightning was not a thing to be taken lightly. The fact that he survived at all, much less from the spawn of Carnifex- was a testament to his legend, to his reputation. The horrific injury rendered most of his face immobile, and speech was prioritized over emotions.

He could barely summon much more than an upwards grin.

Smiling was a thing of the past.

If he could smile here and now though-

He wouldn't have. He hated these things.

But they were important.

Tulan didn't flinch when the shots rang out. Nines was capable of killing some punk-ass trying to work him over. He only took a drink, holding it at his side, his hand in his pocket, pushing upwards slightly the impeccable uniform coat, glancing around. Not much else. Small talk. Bars. Girls talking to guys. Guys talking to girls. He looked down at his feet, taking a deep breath, forming up silently in his respective position, pushing away thoughts of ex-lovers, lost opportunities, and the guilt of a life spent in service of the Reaper.

Captain Tulan Kor took his position, without a word, without a sound, his hands firmly resting behind his back.

Keen eyes could spot the unauthorized pin just above the insignia of the Imperial Special Forces- the pin of a certain unit.