Private The Lost Legion

[Ignacious Korvan]

The Imperial Despot​

Location: Aboard the Tiberius - In orbit around Carlac
Tags: Arminius Kroeger

Shortly after Operation Nightfall...

The less glamorous part of being the ‘Imperial Despot of the Dark Empire’ was the need to review seemingly limitless reports. Among them was the after action report for the Iron Legion. They were of particular interest to the Despot for more reasons than one; foremost of all being they were, for all intents and purposes, a renegade Imperial legion that formed from the isolated units of a former tank battalion, as well as other units that flocked to their banner in the chaos that followed the collapse. Korvan was not above forceful integration of such entities within the Dark Empire, for he had done so before in the years leading up to this point. But it would seem this ‘Iron Legion’ had gone a route many other warlords had viewed as beneath them - they decided to become mercenaries.

And mercenaries had a price.

So it was that the true purpose of Onderon had taken form. Only the foolish would believe that the ‘Imperial Remnants’ that remained would invade the planet with any real hope of holding it. Judging from the Alliance personnel that ‘volunteered’ to aid the insurgents of their own volition, it would seem the Alliance was scared of just such a notion. But the truth of the matter was that Nightfall’s purpose was multifaceted. Strategically, the Dark Empire needed to procure as many raw materials as they could manage, and the badlands of Onderon were a source ripe for the taking. And so it was that the Empire would set up operations to siphon such materials for as long as practical, while galvanizing the Imperial remnants under Korvan’s control. The men and women who served under Korvan needed to feel that forming an Empire was possible again, and so it was that the likes of the Iron Legion, and others flocked to Korvan’s banner at the opportunity.

The fact that the subjugation of Onderon coincided with the New Sith Order’s desire to delve into the tomb of Freedon Nadd was yet another reason for the operation. While the Alliance was focused on countering Imperial operations on Onderon, the secrets that lie within Dxun were there for the taking - and with much greater success as it would seem. The strategic objectives of the operation were, overall, a success despite the dogged resistance they encountered. Tactically, several units suffered for it - including this Iron Legion.

But such losses played into Korvan’s hand. He was able to pay this legion to suffer casualties whilst his own men moved raw materials off world to build up their own base of power. Should the Iron Legion decide to part ways, their repairs and losses would be their own to deal with - which placed a significant amount of leverage in Korvan’s hand. Which was why Ignacious had extended an invitation for this ‘Legion Commander’ to rendezvous with his fleet and meet with the Despot personally. If the initial phases of ‘Operation Shadowhand’ were to commence in earnest, they would need further successes like were found on Onderon, and they would need good men to see it through.

Men like Arminius Kroeger.

 

[Arminius Kroeger]

D R E A D N O U G H T
IRON LEGION
Ignacious Korvan

UNSER BLUT​

The Iron Legion performed well on Onderon, but paid for gained ground in blood. Heavy metal, overwhelming fires and methodical breaches, coordinated fire and necksnapping assaults all did well to ensure the victory of the Dark Empire. But even so, it was hardly a victory he held much weight in. It took its share of loot in the wake of the fighting, prizing equipment, maintainence parts, raw materials

Within a few hours, shuttles and dropships were ferrying men, vehicles and equipment from the surface of Onderon to their Star Destroyer in orbit, the Long Night of Solace. One of the late Legate-class Battlecruisers commissioned for service in the Seventh Fleet before the eventual collapse of the Empire, assigned to the Thundering Herd whose remnants made up a bulk of the Legion, it was an easy transition to be its main base of operations. When a summon to the main Dark Imperial fleet reached the vessel, the same pit of anxiety grasped his core like that of being summoned by a superior in the wake of a mishap, minor or major it might've been. "Fuck..." He muttered. A meeting with the once Grand Moff implied all of the customs and courtesy that came with it. Well drilled discipline which he barely abided by then and completely abandoned now. Though, there was no uniform code that he had to uphold now to keep it.

His personal starship came aboard to little fanfare, a meager escort of since retired New Imperial interceptors guiding it into his instructed hangar bay. The hydraulics of its landing gear slowly positioned themselves into place to land, pressing against the durasteel flooring of the ship beneath before the depressurizing of the boarding ramp sounded off with plumes of smoke venting out in its wake.

The man had certainly not conducted hygiene since the fight. His face was scorched with the remnant ash that came with impacts into his Cataphracht and guiding his vehicle unbuttoned on the retrograde from the battle. An Archaisian brushstroke shawl was secured around his neck still, protecting him from the beating sun and other debris over his padded tankers coat, the left size emblazoned with the snake and skull of his very own Iron Legion whilst the right shoulder bared the grey, red and yellow of the First Armored Assault Division's insignia, a common practice among the Imperial Army to bare the insignia of units that one had seen combat with previously. He was followed in two by men armored in mixed patterns of Imperial Stormtrooper corps armor, clutching their once standard service rifles, meticulously maintained in the years following. These men were professionals, good at their jobs but lacked the refined Imperial attention to detail, respect of spectacle and reverence of customs that came with the Army since past.

e appraised the man with his electric eye and organic gaze before he raised his right hand in the customary salute of the Imperial Army, a closed fist over the heart, relieving it once it was returned before he spoke. "You asked for me?" He said outright, his voice distorted as it sourced from a pair of lungs half machine and half man. The men knew well who one another were, Kroeger electing to bypass the pleasantries. He expected what was inevitable. The Iron Legion to be brought into the fold.

 

[Ignacious Korvan]

The Imperial Despot​

Location: Aboard the Tiberius - In orbit around Carlac
Tags: Arminius Kroeger

Contrary to expectation, Arminius would make his entrance as if fresh from the battlefield. Sweat stains and grime caked his clothing, with a faint odor reaching the nose of the Despot. Although internally, the manner of Arminius’ entrance had given the Despot pause, his composure remained intact as he stood to greet his guest. A faint smile lined Ignacious’ lips as he returned the salute to the veteran, after which he extended his hand to a pair of seats set opposite of each other with a small table between them. A more casual setting as opposed to the grandiose desk Ignacious was sitting behind a moment prior. “Have a seat Commander.” His tone was friendly enough considering the usual manner of the man, with his faint smile remaining as he stepped over to the table and took his own seat. A decanter of brandy was neatly placed upon the table, along with a pair of glasses. The Despot took it upon himself to pour both of them a healthy portion of the liquor, after which he grasped his own glass and raised it to his guest by way of a silent toast.

Without much else by way of etiquette, the Despot took a sip from his glass before speaking. “Your... legion commended itself admirably in the field, Commander. It was no small task to keep them as organized as you did in the aftermath of... the collapse.” It was clear that Ignacious was choosing his words with some care, if for no other reason than to gain the measure of the man before him. Judging by his appearance, Korvan was left with the inescapable impression that he put little value in niceties. So, he felt it best to get on with it. “I consider it my greatest failing in being among those who presided over the Empire’s fall, which in turn led to fighting men like yourself being forced to fend for themselves throughout the vastness of what was once our frontier.”

Ignacious’ expression turned wistful. “You all deserved better from us, even though many of my peers were content to squabble amongst themselves as it was happening before our eyes.” While Korvan was a master at manipulation and playing upon the sensibilities of those around him, his words did seem genuine. From the lines that deepened his aged face, to the faint trace of pain in his eyes from the memory of those times; for all that he deserved the reputation of a cold and forbidding man, Korvan was still human.

And he was still a military man, who believed in taking ownership of his mistakes.

“I’m sure you’ve already guessed why I’ve invited you here, so I'll get straight to it. I intend on doing my part to right the wrongs of the past, and to unite our scattered countrymen once again in the hopes of restoring some semblance of what was lost. To do that, I will need brave men at my side. Brave men like you.”

He took another sip of the brandy. “So what will it take to make such a reunion possible? What can I do to bring this lost legion of yours back into the fold?”

 

[Arminius Kroeger]

D R E A D N O U G H T
IRON LEGION
Ignacious Korvan

FOOTPRINTS
​

He was quick to spark up a cigara as he sat down opposite of the Grand Moff, laboring over sparking it up and taking a draw Korvan spoke, his cybernetic lungs drawing in the sweet taste of the herb as he leaned back into the seat, a low exhale leaving him before he slowly closed his eyes for a moment of respite and recollection, eventually looking back toward the man with furrowed brow.

"I wouldn't call that a good performance. We got sloppy, hardly expected Alliance there. Weren't ready for peer-to-peer, came equipped for bandit fighting and looked like cooked schutta with our hands on our- doesn't matter. I'm not happy with it." He admitted, recollecting Onderon, another draw of his cigara before he nodded for the man to continue.

He let him drone on about accountability, nodding with some understanding and agreement.

"A lot of good men died to keep that Empire whole...I'm sure you knew a great many of them. Men you and yours sent out to die for the dream...they certainly paid the price. Only for the top brass in white to war over the ashes." He said, gesturing his index and middle finger in a joined pair to the man's uniform.

He then tapped those fingers against the triangular symbol of the 1st Armored Assault Division on his right shoulder. A storied unit, part of Task Force Enigma and the anvil to the 501st Legion's hammer. Where the 501st would move fast, the Thundering Herd would strike hard. Few units stacked more accolades during the Third Imperial Civil War and the Second Great Hyperspace War.

"I was there on Ziost...when we stood our ground as the Alliance tucked tail, Tython. I was there for a lot of the shit. I was hardly in it for the creds like I am now. I was fighting for a dream. The Empire, what it meant. It didn't seem to mean much to those at the top. The pieces seemed to fall out of place pretty quickly, huh..." He remarked, clearing his throat.

"So tell me, Grand Moff. How do I know it won't happen again, that I won't sell another dream to my men only to have it fall apart in their cold, dead hands?"

 

[Ignacious Korvan]

The Imperial Despot​

Location: Aboard the Tiberius - In orbit around Carlac
Tags: Arminius Kroeger

While Korvan had gone out of his way to make Arminius feel comfortable, he was slightly taken aback by how quickly he appeared to get comfortable as he lit a cigarra and blew the acrid smoke into the room. Korvan, for his part, did not partake, and internally hoped the cabin’s air scrubbers were up to the task of filtering out the smoke before it sank in.

To the Despot’s credit, he showed no visible sign of being bothered by the overfamiliarity - instead, he listened to the half-human half-droid as he related his feelings on the matter. He did invite Arminius here to speak after all, even though it pricked his pride to hear the candid viewpoints expressed.

Even still, despite it all; Korvan couldn’t fault the man for what he said. It was true in many respects, and echoed what Korvan had already alluded to anyway. But then came the big question that he half expected would be asked.

"So tell me, Grand Moff. How do I know it won't happen again, that I won't sell another dream to my men only to have it fall apart in their cold, dead hands?"

“There’s an old saying I'm sure you’re familiar with, Commander.” He flashed another slight smile. “No plan survives contact with the enemy, no matter how well thought out it is.”

He let those words sink in for a moment before he continued: “Speaking as one of the ‘white uniforms’ who presided over the downfall of our nation, I can say that while I was not without fault in retrospect... the fact was that without an Emperor at the helm, there were too many contrarian viewpoints that drove our Empire into a stalemate. Even the personality that was Lord @Erskine Barran was not enough to subdue the back-biting and endless pursuit of agendas above the good of the state.”

He leaned back, and took another sip of his drink - holding it in his mouth to savour the flavors of the cask the brandy came from. His eyes shifted back to the man opposite him. “In your case, on Onderon - as you say, you did not expect the Alliance to be there in force. Your men were unprepared, and even still - you rose above expectations and, despite the engagement being well clear of perfect; you saw it through regardless.”

His smile disappeared. “No one foresaw the death of the Imperator. And despite falling in battle, we were ill equipped to suffer the death of his successor on Tython. Then the heir apparent disappeared, never to be heard from again. Despite how our government may have appeared on the outside, the Regency was not unified in a singular direction. It was anything but, with an aging war hero doing his best while coping with his body’s inevitable death.”

Now, to bring the point home. “You ask me to reassure you that what happened twenty years ago won’t happen again. You and I both know I cannot promise you that; no more than you could promise that none of your men would die today; and no more than I could guarantee that we would be victorious.”

He paused again, looking the Commander in the eye - not as a former Grand Moff, nor as the Despot of a rising power - but as a man, staring into the eyes of another man who understood the basic truths he was uttering without having to say as much. “Ours is not the providence of fate, Arminius. Fate belongs to the force, or destiny, or whatever Gods there are out there. No... we cannot foretell the future and promise its result. But-”

His smile returned, with the sparkle in his eyes intensifying as conviction grew in his tone. “But what I can promise you is, I will not give up. That much is certain from those I could save, even though others died in spite of those efforts. But you and I have grown stronger over the past two decades. We’ve learned from our mistakes, as well as the failings of others who haven’t been so lucky as us.” His eyes drifted to the metallic manifestations of the hard lessons Arminius clearly had learned. “It is the providence of man to forge our own path in spite of whatever damned fate the galaxy wants to have in store for us. Sometimes we win, and sometimes we die. I’d rather die standing for something and pushing for that promise we all fought and bled for; and something tells me you are the same sort of man, at least in spirit.”

The Despot shrugged with his forearms as he set his glass on the table. “Am I wrong?”

Another damned loaded question.

 

[Arminius Kroeger]

D R E A D N O U G H T
IRON LEGION
Ignacious Korvan

FOOTPRINTS
​

He rolled his eyes faintly. He was already beginning to hear some classic senior officer talk from him initially. Walking the dog, piggybacking, whatever they wished to call it. Cooking old, well known ancedotes into common sense 'no shit' wisdom. But he hardly took it personally. He'd walked the same walk several times before to make his way in front of Imperial High Command when he was a Junior Officer. He listened far more than he would speak, idly puffing from his cigara as the man waxxed poetic over shared Imperial history before eventually he posed his question to Arminius which he had little choice but to answer.

'You're not wrong...but I'm not going to shackle myself in service like I did before. Fought for the Empire, loved it. Would've died for it...but its dead now. What do you expect for me to do? How can I trust the damn Sith that you work with? That they won't try and stab me in the back...for what we did to them." He was referring to Operation Kyber Dark. A special military and intelligence operation orchestrated by Irveric Tavlar since his days as a Sith Imperial Army officer. The betrayal of the renegade Sith on the Battle of Bastion during the Third Imperial Civil War and the ensuing hunt that followed.

"If I'm to enter Imperial service in a full capacity, I don't want any oversight by them, I don't want Sith input on how I lead my men. Am I clear?" He asked.

 

[Ignacious Korvan]

The Imperial Despot​

Location: Aboard the Tiberius - In orbit around Carlac
Tags: Arminius Kroeger

"If I'm to enter Imperial service in a full capacity, I don't want any oversight by them, I don't want Sith input on how I lead my men. Am I clear?"

Ignacious offered another smile. “Crystal clear, Commander.” In another life, Ignacious may have taken issue with being addressed in such an inauspicious manner by the man before him. But this was not the time for wounded pride - after all, a man who had to insist on being called ‘King’ was not a king at all. Korvan did not need to defend his reputation before this man - instead, he needed to reassure that this lost son of the Empire could find his place amongst this rising remnant. “I have absolute authority over Imperial forces. Our patrons need us just as much as we need them, if not moreso. If they did attempt to betray us, it would be an act of self-affliction that would be their undoing. But... to echo your sentiment, I am not foolish enough to believe they are trustworthy. That fact is all the more reason enough for me to surround myself with people who share my outlook. These ‘partners of ours’... are a means to an end.”

He refreshed his glass and held it up. “So what do you say then, General?”

 

[Arminius Kroeger]

D R E A D N O U G H T
IRON LEGION
Ignacious Korvan

FOOTPRINTS
​

Absolute authority. Already the division had begun between Sith and Imperial within this Dark Empire. A schism not far off of how the New Imperial Order had struck its incision of defiance against the Zambrano regime. At least, as he understood it. By the time 860 rolled around, he was merely a teenager but Adumar was one of the first worlds to fall under the thumb of the New Order and thus, Kroeger one of its first home grown fighting men.

General. The word seemed to ring louder from the man's lips when he spoke it. The affliction of rank drawing a furrow of Kroeger's brow. So he'd been promoted already? He thought. He was a Lieutenant Legion Commander at best in the waning days of the Empire. Taking the role of executive officer among the command staff of the 1st Armored Assault Division. A role which he despised as it took him off the line and relegated him to administrative duties, overseeing the distribution of equipment and handling of maintainence issues within the unit.

But now, he was to command it as he saw fit.

"Fine. But I take no orders from Sith. And the first one to try is getting cut down like a sick Bantha." He said, immediately articulating a lack of patience of his counterparts.

"First I see them using you as a means of their will unto me...my men and I leave just as easily as he came here." He stated outright, it was hardly a bargain he was looking to strike, more so a statement. A promise of intent.

 

[Ignacious Korvan]

The Imperial Despot​

Location: Aboard the Tiberius - In orbit around Carlac
Tags: Arminius Kroeger

"First I see them using you as a means of their will unto me...my men and I leave just as easily as he came here."

As Arminius spoke with the same... candor he had done thus far, it would appear as though the usual chill present in Korvan’s gaze returned. His eyes met those of Arminius, and held the gaze unflinchingly for several moments. “Again, you’ve made yourself very clear.” He paused as the hardness within his eyes set to their fullest measure. “While I’ve been trying to keep this conversation...” Ignacious tone was halting, and he paused as he mentally searched for the right word. “...Jovial - I think It’s time I make a few things clear to you, General - beginning with the reality of our situation.”

The smoothness which had couched Korvan’s words previously had vanished, with a hard edge to them was indicative of the Grand Moff of Old. “First, all I expect from you is your loyalty and service to me. While I appreciate your concern that my command may be manipulated by the machinations of others, I am not a man that will be so taken advantage of - I would counter by saying that only fools assume I am easily manipulated. And those fools end up dead.” He let the words hang in the air. “You don’t strike me as a fool.”

‘Unless I’ve misjudged you.‘ Korvan didn’t say; instead choosing to leave the obvious ‘but’ to the ‘innocent observation’ heavily implied.

“Second; I would invite you to take an honest appraisal of your situation before so easily threatening to leave at the first perceived whiff of trouble. As you’ve said, your outfit suffered severe losses on Onderon. We have paid you in both credits and salvage rights - but don’t be naive; you can’t carry on as you are forever.” Ignacious voice reacquired a touch of sympathy. “Worlds friendly to former Imperials are few and far between. Outside of the worlds under our control, what else do you have? The so called “Empire of the Lost?” Korvan let out a rather genuine scoff.

“Velran Kilran was a lackluster fleet commander and an even more uninspiring leader - I doubt he has become anything more. His rabble will be dealt with soon enough.” Korvan’s expression possessed the hint of a predator considering the manner in which it would consume its prey. But then, a faint smirk played upon the corners of his lips. “The fact is General; we need each other. While I cannot say I fully understand you and what you’ve gone through, I know what it’s like to be responsible for those you’ve helped save. You don’t have a monopoly on making hard decisions.”

Again, he let his statement hang in the air. It was clear his patience had worn thin of the tone the conversation had taken, and he felt the need to establish the way it was going to proceed. “I understand your hesitance, and your fear in aligning with our former enemies. But the alternative that lies before both of us is to continue on as we have for the past two decades and die a slow death; consigning our men to an inevitable end and our legacy to oblivion.” He finally broke the hard gaze fixed upon Arminius, and looked off to a decorative map of the Empire that was displayed on a holo projector near the center of the room - a visible reminder of what was lost. “I will open up what resources are available to me to see your forces restored as close to full strength as possible, and give your men as close to a semblance of what was lost to all of us.” He glanced back up to Arminius, this time with a genuine look of... conviction? “But we stand together. With your promotion to General comes a level of trust. You are a blunt man, and I have no doubt you will continue to be blunt with me as we proceed. I expect you to be blunt with me should you see such tampering by our ‘allies’. But I will expect you to stand with me to address it - not leave. If I’m going to support you, you will support me and dispense with the rest.”

While there was force behind his final words, they came with a level of respect. While a metaphorical hand checked the slight overreach by the General, the other hand laid open with what boons were within Korvan’s power to grant. “I believe we are both clear on each other’s expectations. Yes?”