Heir to the Empire
The Warlord's visit wasn't planned this time.
Having sworn an oath to the Knights, it was implied that Lucien had forgone his brazen ways, and cast aside the fire which marked his ascension as one of the Order's foremost Champions of the People. Loyalty and Restraint, mixed with the honor of prestige of being one of his brother's trusted ilk, meant that the eyes of COMPNOR had waned just enough in the recent months that had passed. The King of Serenno had been busy with the reconstruction of his twin jewels, the worlds of Serenno and Nirauan, and it seemed for a time that he'd finally settled into his role within the Order.
Complacent, or so the rumors in the wind believed he'd become. Placid in his return from the bacta tanks of Ravelin, a loyal sword to the Empire, and to Rurik.
Yet none who could speak upon what truly encapsulated his thoughts, the former Jedi's mind having been fractured it seemed since his return from his battles against Solipsis. It had been a long and hard-fought road to repairing the damage done, and even now as he stood tall in the eyes of his people, the damage that'd been done would still plague him with each and every passing day.
But Lucien had not changed, no matter the damage that had been done, and the time it would take to repair it.
He was a Champion of the People, and an Angel in the eyes of those who he wished to save from a galaxy that proved all too cruel more often than not. He stood up for their rights, for their lives, and for their liberties to be protected, even at the cost of his own prestige in the eyes of his fellow Warlords. The death of the former Imperator had only changed his perception slightly, yet still he remained loyal to the cause which he helped build up from the jump. He was an Imperial at heart, and even if the actions of his brother were beginning to divide their paths, that much would always remain.
The paths being walked by the two would inevitably collide, and such a moment would come to the foreground upon the revelation of intelligence that proved all too dire to everything he'd done on behalf of the Empire. For what seemed like the first time in his life, Lucien felt the hatred in his heart being directed towards one of his own blood -- outside of the grandfather who sired their line.
That rage drove him to Bastion, where the Warlord descended upon Fortress Imperator, poised to retrieve his audience with his half-kin without being accosted by the Knights & Stormtroopers present. Even as the Warlord was called to stand down -- lightsaber in hand, an amber rage stoked in his eyes -- he pressed forwards through the masses of men who blocked his path, delivering upon them all the retribution he wished the Iron Emperor would feel himself in the moments to come.
Destruction was beckoned forth by his rage as he erupted forth his command over the force, delivering wave after wave of volatile energies that crippled the Knights and their accompanying personnel to the ground. His fellow Imperials would be saved from the final grace of death, despite their incapacitation in the wake of the Warlord's advance. He would not slay his fellow Imperials, if given the chance to preserve their lives, but he would also not be stopped.
More joined to halt his path, only to find the Warlord did not hesitate to use the force & his blade to bring their attempts to stop him to a halt. Though they did manage to delay him for a time, he would still proceed forth to the turbolift unharmed, and unmolested. Their meeting was long overdue, and nothing would stop him from saying what he said to say to Rurik, before the hatred became anchored to their destiny.
Further into the fortress he would ascend, until the turbolift came to a stop upon the level requested. It was empty, save for the lone secretary who worked outside of his office. Lucien clipped the lightsaber back onto his belt, amber eyes only briefly settling upon the woman before they refocused back onto the large wooden doors to his front. He came to a stop midways to it, adjacent to where the woman frozen with fear was seated.
"Go."
He spoke up, breaking the monotony of tense emotion to strengthen the woman's willpower through the force. She immediately shot up from her seat, entering the turbolift at once and disappeared out of sight.
Good. They were alone.
A hand stretched outwards towards the doors, his fingers clenching together slowly into a fist. The door creaked beneath its own weight as minute slivers of cellulose began tearing themselves apart, expanding and creating even more cracks until both doors were set to implode in on themselves at once. They shattered no more than a thought later, willed into being by the force being beckoned at his fingertips. He cared little for the damage, and while he could have just walked inside, he was far too pissed to simply finish the finale without another display of his furor.
"You've abandoned what made our Empire what it is, Rurik."
Lucien stepped through the splintered shards of wood beneath his boot, ensuring he grinded them beneath his feet as he walked inside the office.
"The ideals of an Empire that we helped to build; those same ideals which Tavlar held onto until the day he fucking died."
"Did you think I wouldn't find out? Planning the dissolution of the Assembly, banning entire ideological groups, and centralizing the power beneath your "throne"? Pfft. This is worse than the storm that brewed when Jaeger was alive. You're isolating our Empire from the galaxy already, and now you wish to remove the elements that truly set us apart from the Imperials who bent the knee to the Sith in the past."
Fists balled together, amber eyes peering through his brother's mask to search for Rurik's own.
"This is wrong, brother. No-- This is bullshit. You have to know this."
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