The Guardsman

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Moff Joffie had found something drifting in Ession's space. It was a small freighter, one that would normally go unnoticed by the Star Destroyer that orbited the planet, but something had been a bit off. One of the acolytes had come running up to the bridge going on about having a vision, and that this freighter was entirely relevant to the cause.

Joffie hadn't paid it much mind, but Mephirium had come to take the advice of sages when it was convenient. They would lose nothing from simply checking over the ship, save for a possible sympathizer. One was a number Mephirium was willing to lose.

Shortly thereafter, the freighter had been pulled in via tractor beam by the Star Destroyer, and Darth Mephirium himself had come to greet the occupants.

Stormtroopers breached through on of the primary airlocks with practiced efficiency. Mephirium stepped through the makeshift entrance with his head held high; a blue lightsaber glowing in his hands.

His eyes narrowed as he leered through the dim lighting.

"Good evening."

[member="Aelius Varangian"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

Inhale, exhale." The Imperial Sovereign Protector verbally measured his breathes to himself as he struck the air in the practiced motions of the Echani martial arts, drilled into each and every Royal Guard until it became not only muscle memory, but then came to one as easily as breathing. Breathing: which he was told by Imperial Physicians, before he was carbon frozen of course, was vital to constantly practice as to expel any excess Tibanna gas that may be trapped in the lungs. A rare occurrence, he was told, but not so implausible as not to warrant any simple procedures against it.

Out of the corner of his eyes, the stars ceased to streak. "Hyperspace journey complete." An automated voice confirmed something Aelius already knew. With an anticipation to once again serve his Emperor in crushing the rowdy bands of terrorists, extremists and traitors that sabotaged the Death Star and slew oh-so many of his comrades welling in his chest, Aelius proudly strode forth to the viewport, expecting to lay eyes upon the secret Imperial fallback world of Byss. How glorious it would be! To valiant stride forth an-

​

"What!?" It felt as if a phantom fist had crashed into Aelius' chest, shattering his ribcage and knocking the wind out of him. Cold, slick sweat suddenly greasing his palms, he hurriedly checked the coordinates he had entered. And double checked. And triple checked... Impossible! A thing of utter madness! How could Byss be gone? The rallying point of the Empire, the womb for the rebirth of the Emperor in case the terrorists somehow prevailed.. destroyed! Nothing but idle rocks floating midst a colorful background of nebula, like brown sploches of paint on a black canvas. Hands trembling, Aelius hurriedly entered in coordinates... to anywhere. Anywhere that would take him away from a sight that his mind struggled to comprehend, no, refused to comprehend.

The ship entered jumped into hyperspace again and after a period of streaking stars, tore into the Ession system. Aelius banished all thoughts from his mind, focused on his training regimens to banish the very slight muscle atrophy that tended to occur during extended carbon freezing. It was not long until sensors beeped to life, alerting Aelius to a.. Star Destroyer! The freighter found himself in the grip of a tractor beam. Unfortunately, Aelius had no idea how to transmit a message with this foreign operating system but rested his faith in the loyal crew of this Star Destroyer being able to explain things.

Dawning armor, Aelius watched as Stormtroopers breached the freighter. The white plasteel familiar, but something was off. The breaching maneuvers he himself was once taught as a Stormtrooper Cadet in the Corulag Academy recognizable, but altered. And this was not just a result of sloppy laziness, but a series of well executed motions that he was certain were never taught to be performed in such a manner in the Stormtrooper corps. Their weapons, and some minor features of their armor seemed to be altered as well. How long was I frozen? The question crept up on him, like a leech that one found himself powerless to swat away.

And then, a dark presence. One like his Emperor yet a entirely different breed.

Blue lightsaber bared, a tall man stepped through the shattered airlock. A member of the Inquistorius? No, not possible. The arch of his back, the smoldering glare of his eyes, the subtle deference the Stormtroopers paid to him. This was no servant, but a leader.

"Good Evening."

The Imperial Sovereign Protector growled away the pleasantries. "In the name of Emperor Palpatine, identify yourself."

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

Palpatine? Mephirium had not heard that name in a long, long time. He was the most famous of the old Sith Lords, but he was only just. The man who had once hoodwinked an entire galactic power was naught but a memory these days, and one scarcely researched at that. Most knowledge had been lost to the Gulag Plague. Mephirium only had a few half-finished holoentries and word of mouth to learn the history of the once great Darth Sidious.

Still, he was a man that Mephirium had chosen to emulate, in certain fashions.

What stood before him was baffling. A man clad in the regalia of the old Sith Emperor's Royal Guard was shouting orders at him. A crazed freight pilot? Though rare, when one was alone on a ship such as this, cabin fever could be a real threat. The hyperdrive had seemed alright, and engines were functioning, but it was possible he might have been stuck aboard this vessel for quite some time.

That would explain the confusion, but there was no explanation for the armor. How in Corellia's Nine Hells had he come across something so damned authentic?

Let it not be said that Darth Mephirium was without kindness in his heart.

"You are confused. Palpatine died very long ago," he explained quietly, "Killed by who knows what. I've no time for games stranger. My acolytes told me there was something of interest on this ship."

He lofted a brow. "What is your cargo?"

[member="Aelius Varangian"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

"Why do you lie?" The voice slithered out in a scornful hiss, eyes burning behind the face concealing visor of the distinctive helmet of the Royal Guard. Yet, the simple, blunt way he stated it -- as if it a plain of a fact as water being wet. Furthermore, why would this man with a Star Destroyer and a complement of Stormtroopers behind him bother to speak untruth? It simply cannot be true. The Emperor dead? Impossible to even contemplate! His New Order was supposed to lift the galaxy into a thousand years of prosperity. A thousand years. How long have I been frozen?

Aelius inhaled, suppressed any shakiness that may have crept into his voice as a result of his unease and demanded a single answer: "What year is it?"

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

 

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"About eight-hundred years since the Emperor died." Mephirium stated crisply. In this universe, time was a little wonky. No one seemed to remember the exact year ever. It was easier to just put a general label on things and go from there.


"The old Empire fell many years ago. The One Sith stand in its place. I intend to turn us back to the old ways," he paused for a moment, allowing himself to probe this mysterious man with the force. He felt naught but panic and confusion. This one was a lost soul. Mephirium felt a pang of sympathy and motioned toward his soldiers. The squad of four all complied immediately, fanning out across the ship in search of contraband.

Darth Mephirium approached the stranger. He came to a halt a pace away from him and folded his arms over his chest, lips pressing into an easy smile. "You need not worry brother. You're among friends now. I am Darth Mephirium. The Star Destroyer just beyond is part of my fleet. My father was Grand Moff Rade. I've Imperial blood."

The lightsaber was doused. "How do you feel?"

[member="Aelius Varangian"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

It took every ounce of effort, every bit of willpower forged in the blazes of fire and training for Aelius Varangian, Imperial Sovereign Protector to a dead Emperor not to fall upon his knees and cry out in despair. His mind whirled with a sense of total chaos and unreality. To rest one day and wake up the next to find everything you knew, everything you fought and bled for to have turned to ash and that ash be swept to the winds of history. His father, the Emperor, his battle brothers. Gone. The vibrostaff which he had clenched tightly in his fists clattered to the ground. Aelius slowly tilted his head to this man -- this Darth Mephirium who spoke of Moffs and Sith. My father was a moff. The next thought flowed naturally: My father is dead.

The Stormtroopers fanned out around him like a river stream split by a rock, likely soon to find caches of scavenged goods, but Aelius was deaf to this. Madness and a sense of purposeless consumed him. He was nothing. A blade without a hilt. This Darth Mephirium drew close, something that would normally elicit a cautious reaction from the Sovereign Protector. But Aelius' mind was scattered, loss. "You need not worry, brother. You're among friends now. I am Darth Mephirium. The Star Destroyer is part of my fleet. My father was Grand Moff Rade. I've Imperial blood." Then, he asked: "How are you feeling?"

"I have a undying loyalty to a dead Empire, Darth Mephirium." Stated Aelius in a cold, emotionless monotone. He felt sapped of strength, of energy, of his very spirit. "The Sith have risen again and according to that title you wear, you are one of them." A humorless chuckle rumbled from his mask. "What madness. Next you shall tell me the Stormtrooper Corps were defeated by teddy bears."

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

Well...

It wouldn't do to tell him that.

Instead, Mephirium settled a steady cybernetic hand on the man's shoulder. It might have been unwanted, but he had come to learn that men - even Imperials - responded well when you spoke to them on a personal basis. Especially when consumed by this particular amount of loss. Though he still felt the guardsman might just be a man who had taken too many stims, he felt some semblance of sympathy all the same.

"A dead Empire that may just rise again, my friend." He squeezed, though doubted it was felt beneath the shoulderpad. "The Empire is not an entity. It is an ideal. The Sith have risen once again, as your Emperor would have wished. Even as we speak, I am gathering an army to recover what has been lost."

He cracked a thin, albeit warm smile. It was easy to be charismatic when you believed your own words. "The galaxy has fallen into disarray. The One Sith - what the Empire eventually devolved into - is little more than a massive cult worshiping a Dark Lord who hides away in an iron citadel on Coruscant. He is a coward, and I intend to remove him from power."

The stormtroopers returned with little to show for their search. Their sergeant directed those that had recovered items back into the Star Destroyer. With a nod from Mephirium, he followed. Moment later, a man in naval uniform flanked by two soldiers strode aboard.

They would be manning this ship.

"Come, my friend, let's find you a place to rest. Surely you've spent enough time with the rabble."

[member="Aelius Varangian"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

Lost in a sea of regret and confusion after learning of the destruction of everything he held dear, the charismatic voice of this Sith Lord reached out, promised redemption in the form of a reborn, new Empire. While seemingly Aelius had no choice in this decision, as this, pragmatic he guessed, Sith Lord could easily order him dead if not by his Stormtroopers then by his own hand, as he sensed a immense aura of power from this Mephirium, this was not the case. Aelius had no fear of death. The breed of the Royal Guard were trained for the possibility of fighting impossible odds to the death. No -- it was the idea of a purpose. To once again stand at the side of a Emperor, throw himself into a whirlwind of combat, cleaving through flesh with vibrostaff for a cause, a set of ideals.

That was why the Sovereign Protector nodded and followed Darth Mephirium abroad his vessel.

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

Mephirium led the guardsmen to a private chamber normally reserved for officers and left him to his thoughts. He had urged the guardsman to rest, though he doubted the man would find any peace in that room. It would be thus until he found some new sense of purpose.

Of course, Mephirium was more than ready to provide such.

He had awaited in the officer's lounge for the guardsman to stir; passing most of the time playing games of Sabacc with one of the newer lieutenants. When he finally felt some semblance of awareness from the room he had gifted the guardsman, he pushed up from his seat, and made his way down to the quarters. Given time, he hoped the stranger would have a better handle of what was going on, and what the current state of the galaxy was.

There he stood, arms folded over his chest, lips pressed into a thin line, waiting outside the door.

[member="Aelius Varangian"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

One Option.

Aelius had paced the little, but well furnished room the Sith Lord had granted to him. Browsed it's holonet linked terminal and looked upon the madness and turmoil that had gripped the galaxy since his Empire's fracture. At first, Aelius denied it. Convinced himself this Mephirium was a liar, that all the technology that was prototype in his day now being mundane was some sort of odd twist of reality. Even as the truth stared him in the face, Aelius, for the first time since becoming a Royal Guard, lost his cool. Raged, howled to the deities which had cursed him to such a fate, tossed seats with the force and shattered vases on the wall. He expressed the whirlwind of confusion and anger that had infested his mind outwards, much to the detriment of the private chamber. Eventually, Aelius inhaled, exhaled, drew upon his training. Calmed himself and then.. began to think. He thought for awhile, and came upon only one reasonable conclusion.

One Option!

Aelius' sharp senses perceived familiar footsteps outside of the door. Aelius noted the respect afforded to him in how, despite the fact that the Sith Lord owned this ship he rendered to him his own chambers, time -- presumably to cope and then, waited patiently outside of the entrance. A fair leader, as far as Aelius could outwardly tell. Something that fortified his decision. Still garbed in full royal guard armor, he opened the door and after he presumably entered, the Sovereign Protector immediately took a knee, a gesture previously reserved for Emperor Palpatine. But Palpatine was dead, and now this man was the closest thing to carrying his torch, his legacy.

"Emperor Mephirium." Aelius paid no heed to the fact that the Sith Lord had never referred to himself as such. Aelius Varangian served Emperors and Emperors alone. "If you allow me, I swear my fealty to you as lawful Sovereign of the Galaxy and grant my service to in any capability you deem necessary."

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

 

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For all that he boasted, Mephirium had a relatively soft heart compared to his counterparts. While he would not hesitate to kill if he deemed it necessary for the cause, he chose not to more often than not. His men were treated well - - too well by the standards of some of his rivals. He drew strength from his own passions, but the wanton destruction of the galaxy did not bring him joy. He was a man of order; a man who felt the need to bring some semblance of peace to the galaxy at large. The Dark Side was his faithful servant, but he did not allow it to rule him.

He had two reasons for showing such kindness to the guard. One, because he truly did feel pity for the man-out-of-time, and two, to perhaps secure some sense of loyalty in the man. He was no doubt alone in the galaxy, and even if he was a deranged spice fiend, his presence within the force quite real, and his skill with his staff might prove to be all too real as well.

He had no expected this.

That did not mean he disliked it.

The title with which the guard bestowed upon him was rightful enough. He would destroy the Dark Lord, and he would restore the Sith Empire to what it once was. In that right, he would indeed be called emperor. He did not correct the guard.

"I accept you into my service guardsman." Mephirium spoke clear and crisp, his words glowing with approval. "I would have your name, as I would show you the respect of calling you by it."

[member="Aelius Varangian"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

"Aelius Varangian, your majesty." Mephirium did not give the Guardsman the order to rise, so he stayed kneeling. He still felt detached from reality. It felt as if he was pushed into an alternate dimension, a galaxy far, far away. Yet he knew this was real. Aelius supposed this was the best possible outcome, to meet with Palpatine's spiritual successor and rejoin the fight to restore peace and prosperity to the Galaxy, under a unified, efficient galaxy

"I await your instructions."

[member="Darth Mephirium"]

 

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Varangian.

And so he was.

"Rise, Aelius Varangian." Mephirium could not help but crack a thin smile. Resurrecting the royal guard would go along way in securing Imperial support. If Aelius truly hailed from the time of the old Empire, then he would be the perfect captain for it.

"Explore the ship. Get to know the crew; find the facilities. The room you were in is yours now. When you are satisfied that everything is in order, return to me on the bridge. We will have much to discuss, Captain Varangian." A tinge of pride found its way into Mephirium's voice. This was good. He could provide Aelius with a purpose once again - something any man would yearn for, and turn it into a political advantage at the same time.

After all, the skill of the Imperial Royal Guard had been something of legend.

"I'll be awaiting you."

With that, Darth Mephirium turned about and marched on to the bridge. There was talk of unrest on Coruscant. He needed to see the comm messages for himself.

[member="Aelius Varangian"]