The gathering of Imperials was in essence not that unfamiliar to what he'd gotten use to seeing on his homeworld of Serenno. These men were Admirals, Generals and Sith; Warlords they all were, and in total they possessed untold levels of influence and power that an exiled Prince such as himself could never hope to achieve. Yet in spite of their overwhelming power in comparison to the lone, young man who confidently stood amongst their gathering, Lucien couldn't help but feel sorry for the vast majority of them. Through the boasts of their achievements, and the counting off of the assets beneath their command, he knew that there was an ever-present trait that quite a few of his
'colleagues' simply lacked in the slightest. It was a trait that he wouldn't claim to possess out of a desire to not inflate himself with the same level of hubris that had filled the air already. They lacked
Restraint in their words, their tone, and overall prudence in general.
Regardless of the common goals which these men shared, that didn't necessarily mean that each one of them possessed the same endgame in spite of a willingness to use the same path to reach their goals. It was a simple, yet effective tool of the mind to use at times such as these, and Luc intended to take full advantage of it whilst in the company of those that he graciously appeared to be nothing more than a fly upon the wall too. For he wasn't there to press his position of nobility in an attempt to garner favor among those present. Title and rank meant nothing to those without the ability to make their ambitions come true, after all. His purpose at the meeting was not to seek favor with the man named Tavlar, the Sovereign-Imperator of this
newly-arisen Imperial Order. The lives of men were precious, and were best to not be squandered away in a fruitless endeavor which could be achieved with a bit more tact, to put it mildly.
Lucien was there for the implicit purpose of seeing for himself just what this breakaway faction of Imperials were truly about at their core. His homeworld had been under the thumb of the Sith Empire for so long that his proud Serennoan people had begun losing their famed individualistic nature, a feature which was once known across the galaxy for just how prevalent it was among the planet's natives. It had survived millenia of occupation and subjugation, until this last and hopefully final one had ushered in a new era for its people. Prosperity for loyalty;
Pfft, it had reduced them to dogs that were happily fed and paid attention, unknowing that the moment it became too weak to
fetch the metaphorical bone, it would be put down in an instant. Much like his kin, it was a fact that he too had once been fine to ignore-- as long as his world remained unmolested, that is. Yet his first taste of true battle against the Sith had brought about a revelation that shifted his paradigm on the Sith entirely. Perhaps the problem wouldn't just rectify itself in time. No, it definitely would not, for as long as the bloated carcass of the Empire remained well enough alive to plunder the riches of its conquered worlds, Serenno would forever be leashed like the dog they saw it as.
There are things in the universe that are simply and purely evil. A warrior does not seek to understand them, or to compromise with them. He seeks only to obliterate them. The words were once uttered in an era from removed from the present, by a man who once commanded legions, and called the very fortress they congregated in his own. Luc wouldn't claim to have the tactical or strategical know-how that his
peers brought to the table, but he understood what Thrawn had meant when he uttered those legendary words that made their way into history. The Sith had shown themselves to him that they were nothing more than pure evil. The wanton destruction of civilian vessels out of spite made that clear. Rather than giving them the cruelest mercy that was enslavement, they instead chose the path of least resistance, when offered resistance from the refugees who sought to escape their fate.
Death. It was a mercy of its own, he had to admit, but too much of his ancestor's blood coursed through his veins for him to give up that easily. If given the choice of Imperial enslavement or Murder by the Bryn'adul, Lucien would've choose option three every. single. time. The battle surrounding the Pabol Hutta made it clear to him that there was no easier way. He'd obliterate them, even without the support of his family or the various nobles under their thumb. He would no longer seek to look the opposite way whilst he did his own thing, nor would he compromise with the duality of a life which he'd come to accept. There was opportunity in watching these Imperials gather their forces and wits, and being there as they amalgamated together a force that would view the Sith as the anathema it was would be the way that
he, much like the Warlords and Admirals surrounding him, would utilize to reach his own predetermined goal.
The Liberation of his world could be achieved in time. He knew the strategic value of Serenno and the long-game that was necessary to carve such a wide path into their enemy. The destruction of the Sith was also a possibility he remained confident in. It did not stem from the majority of those who occupied the meeting hall along with them, but instead from the few individuals among them that said
everything without saying much of anything at all. Words without action were worthless, after all, and for those who wished to see this congregation bear fruit out of its inception, their actions would soon speak to the validity of their worth. Lucien sought to achieve the same end, and as such he merely held his place near the floor, enough out of the way to remove himself from the inter-Imperial squabbles, but close enough to view the proceedings with his own two eyes.
A devilish smirk remained planted on his lips, his overall appearance one that only sought to temper the smoldering spirit which resided within his form by enough to wipe any sense of pretension from his demeanor. For he had no words to offer to those gathered, nor did he feel the right to interject where others felt so brazen to speak up. It wasn't fear of repercussion, nor a timidness to what might've been the youngest individual currently standing in the room. For when the time came for initiative to be taken, Lucien would offer actions -- not words -- as to what he brought to the table.