2nd post
THRONE ROOM, FORTRESS IMPERATOR,
RAVELIN, BASTION (SUMMER OF 877 ABY)
'Greetings, Lucien.... Will talk with you soon, but first - speech for all, then you an' I handle our separate wheelhouses simultaneously.'
As all their subordinates were forming up, Lord Erskine had finally noted the presence of King Lucien, standing next to his hoverchair at the speakers' podium, and a welcome presence it was, as the image and impression of strength-under-fire was needed more than ever before. Matters had changed greatly for the Empire since the untimely passing of the realm's previous leader, but in light of all that was changing around them, no changes would be entertained in the quiet agreements made between Barran and Dooku on the night of the former's ascension.
'As for other matters - our quiet accord still holds, my young friend.... Let us begin.'
With attention diverted back to the audience and the drill-square formation before them, the Lord-Regent's eyes then scanned the room from left to right, stifling sneers he was never known for expressing as he leaned towards the microphone and orated
,'Greetings, Imperials.... Glad you're all settled down, nothing stopping the mayhem when we're done here though, by all means - but our defiant Empire takes dedicated precedence first an' foremost.', making eye-contact with the front of the three-ranks-deep formation of soldiers, airmen and Imperial Knights of every sort. Watching for every collective's reaction as they stood in all their separate segments in the line, Lord Erskine continued
,'And as people are so quick to forget, that same dedication was needed to attain the sort of defiance that forged our Empire in the first place!', lifting his posture from within the hoverchair to lift his face even farther above the microphone.
'Our efforts were dedicated almost twenty years ago, were they not? Dedicated as one in our revolt against the Sith Empire and all who decreed against us, toppling giants as we went.... An' for as long as we persist, I guarantee that each and every salvo we send declares the realm: ETERNALLY DEFIANT!!!!'
Turning to the Serennoan, the Woad flashed a knowing smirk before nodding with a simple, muttered,
'Its time, eye-level for the next bit. You handle the Imperial-Knights, I'll handle the conventional elements. Free to do whatever you want when you order them to fall out though.... Good luck.', floating down to the soldiers and fleet-staffers below as soon as his well wishes were imparted. But as the Lord-Regent drew down to an eye-to-eye level, he finally noticed who'd been shot before, and though the urge to laugh was clear and present on account of the friendly-fire matter bearing twisted karmic fruit, another assassination attempt at such high rung in the Imperial ladder displeased the old Woad greatly.
Grievances though I no doubt hold towards this one, the fates of Imperials were never for our enemies to decide.
Just more wood for the fire that is our Casus Belli.
Korvan, and unlike other Moffs of his standing, was being brought back to his feet and passing a message to one of the aides who were helping at the time, and by the time Moff Ignacious was dusting soot and smoke residues from his coat, the one whose ear was whispered into was already marching towards the Lord-Regent and his tigress with a message for the old Woad in particular. Fortunately for the staffer, Misha could read no hostility in the officer's posture as he approach, and when he leaned in to whisper,
'Abeodan Charidot.... Admiralty, unexpected bravery. Korvan suggests these, both.... Thats all, Lord-Regent.', in Barran's ear before pivoting to return to his duties. It was in this quick rundown that got Lord Erskine thinking about what might have transpired in his absence, and in the curiosity alone, the Lord-Regent couldn't help but think on the courage of the fleeting caste, and for the first time in decades.
But time was wasting away, and the old Woad hated that, and especially so with such a vast array of proud soldiers formed up in their best attire standing before him.
'Some of you ponder the meaning of your presence in parade-formation here, so I'll keep it simple by saying that some among you will carry entirely new ranks before the ceremony is done! But before I get on with the promotions, I believe it pertinent to bestow impromptu awards on a particularly brave individual first.'
'On account of his bravery in the wake of an assassination-attempt on a prominent Grand Moff of the Empire, and for going above and beyond with absolute conviction, and for the sole sake of his comrade's life alone, I award Abedoan Charidot, Imperial Admiral, both with the Naval Cross and the Iron Sun for his valour here today.... A valour of which we all know should be met with appropriate honours as our wars progress.... Step out, Charidot!'
Then with a cheeky, smirking glance to Korvan, Lord Erskine tilted his head as if to order Lord Ignacious to follow suit, despite the fact he had only just been shot minutes before; though much to the old Woad's surprise, his political subordinate would proudly march out in rhythmic timing just a few paces behind the Admiral who was likely in a very similar physical predicament, making their dismissals to the infirmary all the more ethically quick in the process. Barran hated hospitals, and sending any Imperial to the infirmary felt like cruelty, but the Lord-Regent understood that further treatments awaited the two admirals, and these treatments in particular would no doubt get both Korvan and Charidot back to their best form. But first, the matter of killing two birds with one stone was there to be capitalised, and as the two officers formed up in front of his hoverchair, the true ceremony could begin.
People were to be promoted, and the clock was ticking.
Handing over the medals to Abedoan, then the new rank-strip surreptitiously to Ignacious, Erskine looked into the eyes of the new additions to the wounded-politicians club, and saw exactly what he would hope to see in the eyes of Imperial survivors of his own ilk - the sort the Empire needed for the next phase of the war.
'For you, an' for you.... Its alright, lads. We'll get you off to the Infirmary soon. Just need to get past this part, then you're good to go for medical assistance from the moment you're ordered to fall out. Keep your chins up an' I'll do the rest.'
Already shaping up to be the most violent so far.
'Look to your left, my young friend.... For the life you endeavoured to save was that of your new Commanding Officer! Congratulations are in order for both of you - thus commencing our promotion ceremony in the most unexpected way imaginable.'
'Congratulations, Korvan! You're a Grand Admiral now - hand over that obsolete rank-strip!'
After letting the congratulatory applause sink in for the two Naval officers, and for more than a few moments at that, Lord Erskine eventually saw that the honours, the praise and the likes had been more than enough, seeing easily for himself that Lords Ignacious and Abedoan were just eager to stop over-exerting themselves. Thinking on the Hell that would be his muscle-rehabilitation in the following months, Barran understood this need almost too acutely as he finally muttered,
'Alright lads, here we go.... Lets get you a proper triage, shall we?', with last cursory nods of respect before straightening his posture as well as he could for the next part.
'Marked officers will move to the right, in file.... Faaaall OUT!!!!'
The old Woad would respectfully keep the ceremony on hold until both admirals were clear of the three-rank formation, calmly thinking on all the doctors would put them through on their paths to recovery, calmly thinking on his own before the ceremony itself took precedence once more.
'Brave men they are, of this I haven't a doubt in my mind. I value such traits highly, this is known to all in attendance.... An' that same kind of bravery is known on a stalwart, commoner's level, the same heart with which my good friend fights on with, time and time again, proving his worth to warriors in every walk of Imperial life in the process. A rarity, and in every conceivable aspect.... Nines, step out!'
'And on the merit of his constant, loyal efforts as an Imperial Stormtrooper, and as an exemplary Lieutenant-Legion Commander at that, and for all you have given in honour of our Eternal Defiance.... I dub thee - Nines, Baron of the Empire!'
As they shook hands, Lord Erskine couldn't help but think back to Victory Day against the Sith Empire, drinking together with Tyrell Lockhart in the Great Imperial Library, enjoying whiskeys from Faslane and Dunwall and shooing off every attendant and librarian who opened the door to their reading room. These were good days in their service to the very idea of Galactic Imperium, but not many remained from the Third Imperial Civil War to tell of these days, and there were no doubts or denials from Erskine and Nines that they both lived with their constant, daily reminders of this fact, a sad revelation in war that would vexx them until the last gasp.
'Congratulations, my friend.... We've come a long way, an' it gladdens me to see you progressing with the other prominent IMPAF-officers. So I bid you a warm welcome to the heights of nobility - you've made us better in the higher-rungs of society as a result. I mean this sincerely, Nines. You belong, the ones who favoured you from the offset clearly agree.... I am quite sure we can discuss the teething pains of aristocracy later though, so ready up to fall out.'
Brutalities like these always found their ways to invade the mind, and with all the vanishing faces piling up to add to their burdens, but the Woad, much like the friend who stood proudly before him, was much too strong-willed and stubborn to let such things affect him for too long.
'Marked officer will move to the right, in file.... Faaaall OUT!!!!'
Afforded the same respects as the Naval officers before him, FN-999 (likely in search of a real name beyond that point) would remain uninterrupted as his marching paces to a real, human identity were enacted proudly in clear sight of everyone. A thunderous applause had met Nines' marching exit, and like the cheering and clapping were the very cadence of the Lieutenant-Legion Commander's ascension, it was quite easy for Barran to sit back and appreciate without cutting off the newly Baron of the Empire's spotlight, his friend had earned it tenfold in the years since they first fought the Sith Empire together. Any defender from the Second Battle of Bastion, especially as a first major engagement like it was for the Free-State in it's infancy, deserved to rise as Lord Erskine had, and the old Woad made sure to reflect that in the extended pause to watch his departure from the parade-formation.
'And now.... Last but not least - of all the brave soldiers and commissioned staffers serving within the IMPAF umbrella, I will be calling out seven names in particular for promotion! An' all seven names will receive promotions on the spot, so when I call out your name, your obsolete rank-strips will be removed before you step out beyond the front rank!'
Pocketing Korvan's former rank, all the others would be laid out in the hoverchair as the Lord-Regent's eyes scanned across the main bulk of the conventional elements formed up before him, muttering,
'Alright, last stretch.... Here we go.', to himself as he straightened his posture for the last time that day. Barran's arms, shoulders and back-muscles were all starting to burn a little, and though he had will enough to keep going for hours yet, there was a telling sign in the fatigue of how far along his recovery was going, made worse by a slight sickly feeling in his stomach - an occasional after-effect of inducing high painkiller dosages in the attempt to regain coherence and functionality.
'First on the list, representing Galidraan - Brigadier-Generals Tarring and Gowrie. And from SCAR Squadron, Master-Sergeant Vaiken along with Sergeants Liaeris and Stevens. We'll also have Sergeant Dakari of the Imperial Police Force and lastly, of the 313th Legion, Corporal Mannarra.... ALL NAMES MENTIONED, TAKE THREE PACES BEYOND THE FRONT RANK!!!!'
Just enough to fulfil his duty as Lord-Regent of the Empire.
'After years of devoted frontline service, Lords Aron Gowrie and Bex Tarring both arrived here today as Brigadier-Generals, a strategist duo like no other; but from this day henceforth, both scions of the Free-State will serve the Empire as Major-Generals, as befits the divisions they lead.... Congratulations, lads.'
'And now for Hal Vaiken, the ever-decisive leader of SCAR Squadron, has served with a hero's distinction as a Master-Sergeant until now. Earning himself the well-deserved rank of Commander for exemplary service as SCAR's squad leader.... Looking forward to seeing you here again, Vaiken! I know an officer in-the-making when I see one!'
'Blessed are the NCOs today, ringing especially true for Margo Liaeris and Lily Stevens in particular.... But now, both enjoy the same rank their Commander just vacated moments ago. Making this an auspicious day both for SCAR Squadron and for the Empire alike, for merit such as this is hard to find in this day and age - always has been!'
'The same can also be said for one Orik Dakari, though on one particular matter, I was too unconscious to notice his efforts to keep me safe in my hour of need.... But I have learned much and more of our Sergeant since, becoming increasingly deserving of the promotion to Master-Sergeant as I learned more, solidifying his promotion with each and every act of valour I saw noted in his file. Congratulations, Dakari!'
'And now, for the last promotion today, I present a Sabretooth tank-operator who acquitted himself admirably on Ilum.... And though his commander watches on in civilian clothing, I can still see the pride for Corporal Hall Mannarra there. For no longer is the young man a Corporal, this Sabretooth-Trooper is now a Sergeant, rising through the ranks as he ought to!'
The old Woad's duties had been fulfilled for the day, at least for the most part, as all that remained was the formation's drill-dismissal order, letting them off to their drunken gathering once and for all. But Lord Erskine couldn't help but glance at all his subordinates some more, resigned to looking on a gathering of heroes as his eyes scanned from left to right, and in his best hopes for all of them, pondering on whether most would survive to receive such honours again in the following years. Barran could only hope that his hopes weren't misplaced along the way, knowing that hubris would only bite him more harshly this time around, knowing exactly what became of IMPAF's best and brightest before them.
'Alright, let us draw this ceremony to it's natural conclusion, shall we?.... NAVAL CADRE, IMPAF CADRE - WILL MOVE TO THE RIGHT, IN THREES - FAAAAAALL OUT!!!!'
Adera Vellas
Kanollic II Vethres
Melvain Braxis
Sabe Aner Aschwin Vethres 
