Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction The Price Of Empire [NIO]

The Inexhaustible
Thaelius smiled as the oldedd official attempted to challenge him. It was obvious the man wanted to gain favor with the Sovereign Imoeraror and the Grand Vizier. It seemed the Vizier didn't exactly care and the Executer completely ignored him. Thaelius on the other hand, didn't acknowledge the man whom had most probably never suffered the atrocities of the Sith on-hand. "Played Well" he simply said.

"A noble gesture, Executer. I have faith in you, despite your familial ties to the House of Zambrano. As for you, Grand Vizier, I appreciate your honesty but alas, I can't speak for everyone here but I live to serve the rightful Empire. I have served the First Order, the One Sith and now I offer my services to the New Imperial Order"

As he spoke, five Resurgent Class Battlecruisers exited hyperspace escorted by twenty Imperial II Class Star Destoyer's and accompanying vessels. The ancor of the fleet was a massive, black and silver painted Battlecruiser. It was of an unknown variant but it carried over 25,000 Stormtroopers who had dedicated themselves to Thaelius and the Empire of which he served. "Black Hand Command is at your service, Sovereign Imperator." He bowed to the Imperator and turned to salute the Grand Vizier and Executer.

Direct Tags: Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar | Vaulkhar Vaulkhar | Tyrell Paxxus Tyrell Paxxus
Indirect Tags: Hans Vaiden Hans Vaiden | Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen | Darth Bellum Darth Bellum | I'm too lazy to tag everyone so, [Insert Tag Here]
 
we shall all die willingly
GLADIUS COMPANY,
51st AIRBORNE

A lifetime of war.

And now the worst was still to come. Fratricide; brothers in arms now on opposite trenches. On the outskirts of the fortress that would serve as the focal point of the New Imperial Order movement going forward, one company paced nervously. The air full of tension choked soldiers and officers alike. Just a few mere days ago they had been stationed on the Silver Jedi border expecting retaliation in a forward operating base of legionnaires, tired and stirred; not of battling the external foes of the Sith Empire but those within.

The news of the Declaration of Defiance reached them a few days later and the FO base exploded. Verbally first but someone, unknown to anyone and unknown to remain forever, shot first. Lieutenant Remus took the life of his own brother Romulus in the midst of battle, now his own body lied dead in the midst of the makeshift camp of Gladius Company - suicide. Sergeant Darin, loved and respected by her subordinates, remained loyal to her very end when her troopers executed her with tears on their cheeks. 'We serve the Empire' they said as they pulled their triggers. Private Gan, on his first ever deployment straight out of the academy, had been killed without ever firing his gun. He served the Empire.

In the midst of a chaos Belisarius had never witness before, the captain managed to lead his men out of the planet thanks to the overwhelming forces of separatists in orbit. Otherwise, they would've retreated into the wilderness hunted like game. He wondered how many insurrectionists did not have that fortune.

Fortune, the word echoed in his mind.

"Captain, we've rationed the supplies and it's much worse than we initially believed." the XO, Lt. Agrippa reported. He had taken off his helmet like the rest of the company. Nothing better than unfiltered air.

"Blame the navy." Belisarius replied reluctantly.

"Sir?"

"First time this happens to you? How many naval officers fit their uniform?"

"Uh-"

"Get used to it, Lieutenant. It's business as usual. Gather a hunting party and get us some game. We've had enough of revolts for a week."

"Yes, sir."
 
The woman couldn’t help but grimace as the declarations began rolling off every man’s tongue, the grandeur. Positioned firmly behind the lot of the assembly she had a rather advantageous position to watch the whole mess unfold. The petty flaunting of titles and the accompanying ilk was what any soldier expected out of a higher command. Some of theses men were the kind they had mocked from the fields. Pale eyes followed the foreign generals' dispute of title, to Vaulkhar, the ominous shadow and his own proclamation. Her lips pressed into a thin frown when he offered his life up so plainly; his reputation preceded him. The paintings of some ghoul perhaps were not a stretch and Lyra considered Tavlar’s involvement with the man for a moment; it simply left a bad taste in her mouth.

She wasn't going to lower herself in hypocrisy, any further at least, she was already on masquerade. Another problem for another day but it seemed their great Sovereign could tolerate the shadow’s presence. She had to wonder if it was a mutual agreement or if Tavlar was holding on to a chain to some mad dog. The woman stewed quietly, a tool was a tool and she’d only benefit to remember that. Taming her growing restlessness, she tilted her head as she caught her reflection in the visor of her Captain. Lyra had an idea of what the woman was thinking, the antsiness that crawled under the soldier’s skin crept and licked at her heels.

“Wipe that look off your face Appw’rii,” she muttered under her breath to the woman, leaving the trooper taken aback.

Tyrell Paxxus was but another stranger but his presence offered a measure more inspiration and promise. His stock shone brighter than the lot of the conglomeration of commanders at first glance, but she knew better and reserved final judgment. When both of them had dropped to a knee, her frown deepened. It was a tamer declaration but she had to wonder when they were actually going to get down to
work. Unlacing her arms, her hand deftly fished out a small steel cylinder from her coat; taking a sip from the flask. This was a place for great men with armies to field and of mind but perhaps she had walked in with one to many speculative hopes for the pace of the meeting.

Her inclusion a lingering question that prodded the back of her mind, an inward fissure growing that echoed from her time on Korriban. Genesis, herself, were soldiers first and they were following the man and ideology that had spanned the last decade. They could talk in circles about the practices of their once overlords but it was a tiring debate. The former Colonel was still coming to terms with the disruption of their livelihood, daunting as the fight to come was she was embolden enough to take it up nonetheless. The boot licking was only beginning and what was a little lack of decorum to a brown nose? A swearing in upon a codex and before office would have been more befitting in her opinion.




Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar Vaulkhar Vaulkhar Tyrell Paxxus Tyrell Paxxus @ The rest of the Gucci warlords too
 
Location: Nirauan
Task: Guard Duty
Faction: New Imperial Order

---

The silence eventually lulled over into the general tasks that could be expected from guard duty. Someone would approach the door, the HUD would pick up their facial features and scan if they were an approved guest, and the pair of troopers would allow them to pass wordlessly. This went on for the entire entourage, as one would have expected for such a secluded meeting, without incident. There were no unexpected guests and most of the major players arrived perfectly well on time. The pair watched as official after official passed them by, some of them were dressed up in the finest officer uniforms that the New Imperial Order, or whoever their previous master was, could afford. Other's, however, stood out quite a bit more as being a cut above the standard rank and file, even among the band of misfits that this gathering was proving to be. It wasn't in there place to react or judge, the ghost of Darth Vader himself could have approached the pair, and should he had been one of the approved guests, he would have been welcomed to the meeting.

Of course, this dragged on for sometime, and once the exciting part of their day was done, the troopers would go about shutting the doors to the antiquated throne room to leave the important people to discuss and debate and plot, swear oaths of loyalty, some genuine and some out of power lusting, all and all, not a bad start for a bunch of slapped together rebels looking to topple one of the most powerful astronations the galaxy had to offer.

Time passed, minutes bore into the sanity of the two men, before suddenly Gorbar spoke up.

"What do you think they're talking about in there?"

"Couldn't tell you," Ravraa would reply.

"Above our pay grade anyways." Came the dismissal.

"Really? You believe that?"

"I mean, they're command for a reason, yea?"

"What's the difference between you and them, save some officer schooling and a medal? Their political power explodes," He gestured with his SFR
"From the barrels of our blasters."

Nothing more than a nod was given in response, Ravraa wondered if it was one of understanding or simply trying to end the train of thought.

"Did you see that creepy looking one?"

"Vaulkh, or whatever it was, yea?"

"Makes me uncomfortable, wonder why he goes around with that damned mask on."

"Not sure if it's even a mask. Knowing the Sith, could just be his face."

"No... how...?" Gorbar said, a combination of fear and intrigue in his voice.

"Hell if I know, probably has to sacrifice thirty-two bantha cubs everytime Theed sees an eclipse or something nefarious and complicated like that."

Silence again.


"You think he eats...?"


Ravraa paused for a moment, his eyes fading into the distance of the fortress hallway before he looked over at the fellow trooper, his voice carrying an honestly confused and ponderous tone.

"I have no idea..."
 
So it had come to it at last. The birth of a new Empire... One that was not slowly eroded away by the endless machinations of the Sith. Tarrik now only known as the First Brother stood several feet from his new masters especially the one known as the executor. He stood dressed in black from head to toe, his black armor chest plate taken from an Imperial clone of the Core Imperial Confederation, but made with a few modifications. His armor molded off that of Imperial Officers. A sleek ringed lightsaber was attached to his back. Standing aside silently. First Brother was the start of the Executor's Inquisitorious program. Recruiting those that were discarded by the Sith Empire, be it captured Jedi, criminals, or force sensitives who posed a danger to the Emperor. The Inquisitors were the fist of what would be the new order. Either hunting down threats from within the new empire or without. They were also tasked with gathering Force Users that had the potential to serve.

First Brother has utterly devoted himself to the dark side, and to the will of the executor, for if he should fail in his tasks, let's just say that death seemed more like an old friend. Despite his fear of him, First Brother had owed him everything. Since his beginnings as a Jedi Knight during the Siege of Lothal. His first encounter with Imperials were the First Imperials of the First Order. Serving in the Galactic Alliance, he was a Jedi on one of the worlds of the frontier of the Alliance. Following the rampage left by the First Order and their Knights of Ren. Tarrik found himself being exchanged to the Sith Empire when the First Order occupation ended and the Sith became the new masters. Ultimately being transported to Mandalore for experimentation by a Kaleesh Sith Lord who called himself Cyggys Keessk. He was tortured for weeks if not months. Every aspect being studied under the cold calculating eyes of the sadistic Sith.

In the end, he gave in to the dark side just to endure it all. It wasn't until the failed Siege of Mandalore by the Network that he had his chance to escape. It was the likes of Vaulkhar Vaulkhar who broke him out in the midst of the Chaos. In return that he pledges himself to a new ideal. To an idea that would bring order to the galaxy. The likes of which would harken back to the Empire of old and the First Order not so long ago. Now as this new empire was being made. No longer Tarrik but First Brother, sacrificing his own name in service to the Empire. He had goals, dreams he wished to see fulfilled. Nothing brought him more joy than the likes of an Imperial ruled galaxy, not diluted by the poison of Zambrano and his ilk.

He remained silent, his hands clasped behind his back. Watching at all those that would arrive, Imperial's bickering over useless titles, and the dawn of a brand new day. It would be the likes of which no one would forget. A day when the ideals of what Palpatine strived for centuries ago would still be endured. If not through the First Order, Core Imperial Confederation, then it would be through the New Imperial Order. All of if not most beings in the room came from different backgrounds, ideas, even factions. But everyone was bound to one idea. The destruction of the Sith Empire, and for Imperial flags to reign across the galaxy once more under pure Imperialism.

Ravraa Vyshraal Ravraa Vyshraal Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar Tyrell Paxxus Tyrell Paxxus Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Thaelius Thaelius Belisarius Belisarius
 
NIRAUAN
HAND OF THRAWN
DESTROYING ANGELS
-


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.

 
we shall all die willingly
GLADIUS COMPANY,
51st AIRBORNE

Tasked with entrenchment and setting up defenses was hard labor. Especially when you lacked a sufficient amount of droids. After all the insurgents barely made out of Sith-Imperial territory with their lives. Supplies were heavily rationed and regiments were consolidated merging with other regiments to form new ones. The nervousness and tension could be felt like a thick and suffocating veil upon the men and women of the separatist New Imperial Order. Defectors from the Sith-Imperial intelligence were running on stims and no sleep as they tirelessly investigated any potential leak of information regarding their new position; it was a scary scenario - the Sith finding out and launching the full might of their armada upon them.

It meant complete annihilation.

Was Belisarius afraid? Definitely. Only mad men felt no dread, yet he had grown to live with that fear. A soldier was always one step away from demise. As a commanding officer he had to demonstrate complete composure and confidence, put on a mask if he must, to inspire his subordinates and keep morale up but he could do only so much. The leaders of this movement had gathered in the fortress and they had to act fast and decisively lest the unrest turned the soldiers insane. Already he had to deal with a suicide, a dozen brawls and insubordination. Captain Belisarius blamed it on the Sith. This restlessness among the soldiers, it didn't just pop out of nowhere, it had grown like a tumor, slowly but surely, among the legionnaires due to a thousand and one reasons.

"Captain, you're digging?" Lt. Agrippa's voice came from behind him.

"That a question or a statement?" Belisarius replied and added. "We've got a job to do, soldier. Get yourself a power-shovel from over there and start digging - these trenches won't dig themselves."

"Roger."

Something to keep the mind off. Bury the fears with toil. Buy a little more time.
 
Remus rubbed the bridge of his nose as he listened to those Admirals and Generals and others who groveled at the feet of the Sovereign, the Grand Vizier and the Executor. What did they have to show for their groveling? They spoke of dead factions in a galaxy that would not even remember them when they were long gone. Remus leaned his neck from side to side and continued to listen, he had deployed several of his best agents throughout the room, some of them had been placed within the new command structures that would be assigned to these men and he intended to keep very close tabs on them. He didn't care for who they claimed to know, who they believed they were or who they believed they would become. They would be beholden to one singular entity for their actions, that was not the Sovereign, the Grand Vizier or the Executor, no that was the Imperial Security Bureau. Remus had inherited, through some ambition of his own, the ability to keep his hand around the throat of the Empire's traitors, leeches and snakes. He protected those at the top and would be merciless and swift in his action.

In the short time that he had been in command of the Coalition for the Preservation of the New Order, he had arranged it around several organizations. The first being the Imperial Intelligence Agency. The "Agency" or sometimes the "Company" would be charged with protecting the Empire from without; the countless enemies across the Galaxy that would seek to undo the work of the New Imperial Order and what it accomplished in its very short time that it had been around. The Imperial Intelligence Agency, which Remus had been named "Director" would protect the enemies of the Empire that existed in the "Outer Empire", the other significant organization he inherited was the Imperial Security Bureau. The ISB as it was commonly known was a feared and somewhat hated agency in the Old Empire. The ISB was charged with the domestic intelligence of the Empire on both civil and military fronts and it possessed significant authority to do as it needed to protect the Empire; Remus liked to continue that tradition. Remus assumed his "official" title, or at least the one that he would be known as would be "Director of the Imperial Security Bureau" but he also possessed the title of Director of the Imperial Intelligence Agency and the leading member of the very limited Select Committee of the Coalition for the Preservation of the New Order, COMPNOR.

While Remus was settling into his position he had begun to compile and build information on everybody in the room. What they liked, what they disliked, how they drank their brandy, what color Twi'lek they purchased when they were out on leave, how often they spent company in the arms of another species, how often they spent company in the arms of the same species, what gender that species was, what their command style was, did they actively seek to undermine the Empire, what they believed in, who they were friends with, where did they come from, did they posses secrets? All these things would be brought together and used, when and if necessary to protect the Empire. While COMPNOR might never see the size and mass that it attained during the Old Empire, it was certain that Remus had ordained for it to achieve a significant critical mass organization that allowed him to be in command of a wealth of intelligence and knowledge throughout the new Empire. It was only a matter of time before they came to Remus, it was only a matter of time before the letters "ISB" became a permanent imprint on the minds of every citizen and soldier within the Empire.

Remus didn't need to speak, to offer his pledge of loyalty to the Sovereign, the Grand Vizier or the Executor because they already knew that Remus was a man that could be relied on, counted on and trusted. There was a reason after all that he had been placed in charge of such important and monumental tasks within the Empire. What most of these generals, admirals, officers and officials forget is that within their very command structure would be Kelbor's men and women. As much as they would attempt to seek and destroy, Remus would always be one step ahead of them. Did he do it to protect the Sovereign? The Grand Vizier? The Executor? No. It was to protect the Empire because long after the likes of any of them were gone, the New Imperial Order and what it brought to the galaxy and what it accomplished would be marked down for millenia. So while these men and women squabbled over who possessed what fleet, who possessed what army, who command this command and operated that station, Remus and his tendrils would be wrapped around their throats waiting to strike, waiting to end their aspirations with the stroke of the hand.

Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar Vaulkhar Vaulkhar Darth Bellum Darth Bellum and all others participating in this thread.
 
It was a surreal gesture from the Executor, to make his offer of fealty to this New Order so tangible, as such was the open and candid admission from the former Admiral Paxxus. This assembly was made largely of those of impeccable fiber, the exact stock which would be needed in this coming war. Though just as infighting and a strive for power and control was integral to the nature of the Sith, it was just as apparent in the nature of the Imperial. The brazen admirals showed that in stride between each of them, I suppose it only stood to prove why Tavlar secluded himself to his army comrades during his time in the Sith Imperial legions. Being well the in thick of slaughter had a means of humbling men and women far more effectively than fleet combat ever could, as hectic as it could prove to be.

"Your arms are all better in your own hands. We need muster every fiber of our being if we're to war with the Sith Empire. I ask of all you abandon any feuds between you in the preservation of a greater vision. A vision within which our Empire liberated and the Sith brought down low. The consequences are known and our purpose clear." Tavlar stated flatly, his gaze dancing between the gathered group. Among the figures he expected, be they conspirators present for the foundation to be laid for this treason or merely Imperials seeking purpose in taking the fight to the Sith. Peculiar that the greatest threat to the Emperor come in this form, as such was the way of the Galaxy.

"We need to do what we can to gather resources and manpower in neutral space before we embark on our crusade. There is very little I can offer any of you in reassurances, it will be a brutal, difficult fight...but you all know that by now. By answering these summons, you have declared your defiance against the Sith Empire. Our fates are sealed in that we will win...or we will die. None of us can linger, hide and refuse to face these stakes, every single of one of us will be needed in the war to come. We must lead by example if we expect those who trust us with our command to join us in this struggle." Irveric states outright, it was one thing to offer a fighting force, it was another to lead it into the thick of battle themselves.

Vaulkhar Vaulkhar | Tyrell Paxxus Tyrell Paxxus | Darth Bellum Darth Bellum | Remus Kelbor Remus Kelbor | Hans Vaiden Hans Vaiden | Tithon Antilles Tithon Antilles | Thaelius Thaelius | Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen | Ravraa Vyshraal Ravraa Vyshraal | Belisarius Belisarius | Lucien Dooku Lucien Dooku | Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt @whoever else I missed it was not a slight I promise
 
Marlon nodded with the words of the Sovereign Imperator , with the bickering between the various Admiral fighting the Sith would be an even harder challenge a problem most Rebel movements did not face due to their unity in the face of oppressive regimes.

If the New Imperial Order was to succeed against the Sith Empire they would need to things : Strength and Unity things that we essentially in waging war against an enemy. Most importantly Unity was required outlive any opponent as shown with previous governments. The Galactic Alliance collapsed in face of Imperial Powers due to internal strife and the Core Imperial Confederation collapsed in a similar way due to the absence of proper leadership and unity.

As the Sovereign Imperator spoke of gathering manpower and resources for the upcoming war , Marlon nodded the New Imperial Order was not yet ready for open conflict but if they did everything right then the New Imperial Order would have increased chances against the Sith.

Once Irveric Tavlar was done Marlon stepped up to speak. “You might not know who I am but that does not matter at this point what matters is that The Sovereign Imperator is right. In the face of a stronger enemy we must remain united with one goal and avoid any pointless bickering , especially you Admiral Ordo. If we are to succeed Strength and Unity is required but we must move quickly and decisively for at this very moment the Sith might be making their own plans on how to deal with us.”

Then Marlon turned to the Sovereign Imperator. “In addition speaking of gathering resources and manpower I have an Armada that I’ve assembled in the last 5 years comprised of approximately 100 ships spearheaded by 7 Battlecruisers and soon to be joined by an 8th one currently under construction over Jakku ready to join your Growing Arsenal of Vessels my Sovereign Imperator as i solemnly defiance to the Sith Empire my defiance and pledge my allegiance to you and the New Imperial Order.” Marlon said putting his hand on his chest symbolizing his newfound loyalty to the famous Traitor General now to be known as the Sovereign Imperator of this nascent New Imperial Union

Tags : Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar | Tithon Antilles Tithon Antilles | Darth Bellum Darth Bellum | Remus Kelbor Remus Kelbor | Thaelius Thaelius | Hans Vaiden Hans Vaiden | Vaulkhar Vaulkhar | Tyrell Paxxus Tyrell Paxxus | Belisarius Belisarius | Ravraa Vyshraal Ravraa Vyshraal | Lucien Dooku Lucien Dooku | Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | others involved whom I have missed
 
Location: Nirauan
Purpose: Business Opportunity
Status: Observing NIO

There comes a time when survival trumps all other forms of logic or morals. Where there are many varying shades of culture and pride, Cyr held no tradition nor practiced in any of them. Steadfast was she in the shadows of normalcy - an indifferent entity driven simply by the need to thrive, to expand. And what better way to indulge such a craving than to pursue the rise of a virgin Empire? In truth, Cyr had little to no care for their political drivel, and even less concern for the outcome of their actions. There was nothing they could do to make her shed even the slightest tear, no matter the rhetoric.

Standing upright among many others gathered, the masked woman watched and listened in complete silence. Her gaze steadied on Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar for a few seconds before shifting around, not paying much heed to any of the other faces present. For Cyr, this was utterly a matter of business. Where mere men and those of the Force were destined to wage wars for centuries to come, there would always be those akin to her that thrive from the spoils and decay of either sides' mistakes or triumphs.

Cyr's inability to connect with emotions made this line of work that much easier. To not care for your employers nor targets as living sentient beings yielded a more efficient result - and higher compensation. There were no bonds to be formed, no friendships to be forged. There was only the job and its price tag.
 
we shall all die willingly
GLADIUS COMPANY
51st AIRBORNE

When the dozen shuttles of what remained of the 3rd Infantry Regiment arrived there were cries of pure jubilation. They had been stationed on Mandalore when the news broke out and the insurgent 3rd Inf was considered all but gone; annihilated by the overwhelming loyalist forces.Yet, against all odds, they had made it out. Broke through the blockade paying a huge cost of bodies all because they believed in the cause set forth by Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar and his co-conspirators.

Belisarius knew a lot of men from the 51st had relatives or close friends from boot camp serving in the 3rd Inf so the arrival of the survivors gave them, the men at the fortress, a breath of relief. For now. The spirits were raised to the skies but Captain Belisarius knew for a fact that this could only last so long. More men meant also heavier rationing and that never heralded good news. When the euphoria of Pyrrhic triumph ceased, the growling of stomachs would take over. Man was a beast, primal in his core. He could only so much control these inner needs before they conquered him entirely. Civilization, after all, was built on the surplus of food and drink.

Without that we are all just animals, he thought.

He kept digging.
 

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