The Gray Cloak
Things weren't going as planned anymore. That shouldn't be a surprise to anyone. No plan survives first contact with the enemy, right?
The New Imperial Order.
The Galactic Alliance.
Two galactic superpowers existed on opposite ends of the political spectrum. The New Empire sought Order above all else. They cut down Sith by the hundreds, with their lackeys numbering in the hundreds of thousands, if not millions. Stormtroopers and Imperial Knights filled hundreds of graveyards with the corpses of their greatest enemies. Throughout all of it, the Alliance fought beside them. Even though the Alliance sought Freedom through democracy, the two powers found a tenuous union brought about by trauma. Trauma born from the Sith Empire's constant abuse. Slavery, murder, dark sacraments... the list went on. And on. And on.
Errant sought compromise.
While he believed Order held a more critical purpose over something like Freedom, the Albino felt common ground could be discovered outside the battlefield. Galas were held in honor of the fallen. Rewards were given to both sides by both sides. Even though the Senate did not trust the Imperial Assembly, and vice versa, honestly, there stood a chance the longstanding feud between Empire and Republic would be forgotten. But it wasn't. Tragedy once more struck the galaxy. Betrayal on a scale unprecedented to the New Empire and Alliance alike shattered that sputtering pact. The Empire abandoned its allies to fight an insurmountable battle without support from those who defied the Crimson Shadow. Only, the Brotherhood was not like the Sith Empire. Hubris didn't appear to exist within the eyes of the average barbarian. They fought recklessly in their simple-minded goal.
Neither Order nor Freedom would survive the struggle. At least, not like this.
His gaze shifted from a stuffy cabin to a white veil beyond the window beside him. Snow buffeted his ship. Not even a silhouette cut through the white curtain encasing his shuttle. No surprise, really.
Nestab seemed inhospitable on a good day. Today wasn't one of those good days. A blizzard battered the world miles away, yet he could still feel its effects.
They had chosen this place on this day. One where no one, New Imperial or Alliance Citizen, could bother them. Months had passed since Errant last laid eyes on his distant lover. Assignments regularly interrupted his life as the day drew closer to earn his place back within the Empire. Such missions left him bloodied and bruised. He constantly wondered whether or not his quest for redemption would ever amount to anything more than lonely nights. He found his answer at Nirauan.
Errant earned his redemption. For the first time in more than half a decade, the Imperial Knights welcomed him back into the fold. It should've delighted him to be back at Bastion. To walk the hallowed halls once traversed by the Fel Legacy, the forefathers of their knightly order.
The Albino felt only loss. He grieved for an Empire that left him behind and morphed into a monster akin to the crimson horror he first took up his blade against.
It didn't matter. Now wasn't the time.
He stood from his seat within the shuttle and moved towards the descending ramp. A blast of freezing cold wind seeped into his bones, carrying with it a fog of frost and snow. He paid it no heed. Since Vella's death, the cold felt more homely than any flame. It welcomed him without remorse. A kindred spirit left to wander without a hint of a road or path to guide him. Maybe it was what remained of his punishments. A curse laid upon his soul, delivered through malignant witcheries uttered in the final moments of some dead witch left behind in his wake.
The silhouette of a building loomed closer. The promised meeting point, free from the prying eyes of both Empire and Republic.
The space between.
The New Imperial Order.
The Galactic Alliance.
Two galactic superpowers existed on opposite ends of the political spectrum. The New Empire sought Order above all else. They cut down Sith by the hundreds, with their lackeys numbering in the hundreds of thousands, if not millions. Stormtroopers and Imperial Knights filled hundreds of graveyards with the corpses of their greatest enemies. Throughout all of it, the Alliance fought beside them. Even though the Alliance sought Freedom through democracy, the two powers found a tenuous union brought about by trauma. Trauma born from the Sith Empire's constant abuse. Slavery, murder, dark sacraments... the list went on. And on. And on.
Errant sought compromise.
While he believed Order held a more critical purpose over something like Freedom, the Albino felt common ground could be discovered outside the battlefield. Galas were held in honor of the fallen. Rewards were given to both sides by both sides. Even though the Senate did not trust the Imperial Assembly, and vice versa, honestly, there stood a chance the longstanding feud between Empire and Republic would be forgotten. But it wasn't. Tragedy once more struck the galaxy. Betrayal on a scale unprecedented to the New Empire and Alliance alike shattered that sputtering pact. The Empire abandoned its allies to fight an insurmountable battle without support from those who defied the Crimson Shadow. Only, the Brotherhood was not like the Sith Empire. Hubris didn't appear to exist within the eyes of the average barbarian. They fought recklessly in their simple-minded goal.
Neither Order nor Freedom would survive the struggle. At least, not like this.
His gaze shifted from a stuffy cabin to a white veil beyond the window beside him. Snow buffeted his ship. Not even a silhouette cut through the white curtain encasing his shuttle. No surprise, really.
Nestab seemed inhospitable on a good day. Today wasn't one of those good days. A blizzard battered the world miles away, yet he could still feel its effects.
They had chosen this place on this day. One where no one, New Imperial or Alliance Citizen, could bother them. Months had passed since Errant last laid eyes on his distant lover. Assignments regularly interrupted his life as the day drew closer to earn his place back within the Empire. Such missions left him bloodied and bruised. He constantly wondered whether or not his quest for redemption would ever amount to anything more than lonely nights. He found his answer at Nirauan.
Errant earned his redemption. For the first time in more than half a decade, the Imperial Knights welcomed him back into the fold. It should've delighted him to be back at Bastion. To walk the hallowed halls once traversed by the Fel Legacy, the forefathers of their knightly order.
The Albino felt only loss. He grieved for an Empire that left him behind and morphed into a monster akin to the crimson horror he first took up his blade against.
It didn't matter. Now wasn't the time.
He stood from his seat within the shuttle and moved towards the descending ramp. A blast of freezing cold wind seeped into his bones, carrying with it a fog of frost and snow. He paid it no heed. Since Vella's death, the cold felt more homely than any flame. It welcomed him without remorse. A kindred spirit left to wander without a hint of a road or path to guide him. Maybe it was what remained of his punishments. A curse laid upon his soul, delivered through malignant witcheries uttered in the final moments of some dead witch left behind in his wake.
The silhouette of a building loomed closer. The promised meeting point, free from the prying eyes of both Empire and Republic.
The space between.
