Private The Stars Align

[Marlon Sularen]

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T H E_S T A R S_A L I G N

FINAL DAWN
INV SULAREN'S REVENGE, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

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It has been a rough 6 months for the Imperial movement in the galaxy. Once they had two galactic governments that contested the might of the Jedi, Sith and Mandalorians combined, but now they were scattered, ostracized, and hunted. Imperial worlds such as Tion and Lianna had been put to the torch by the Sith and Mandalorians, while others such as Mahporeem suffered from both pirate raids and Rebel terrorism. Multiple attempts had been made to revitalize the Imperial movement, only for them to fizzle out and yield zero results, from the Tarkin Initiative to the First Order to the Imperial Reclamation Authority.

For Sularen, it was an embarrassment for a movement that had once dominated galactic politics during the New Imperial Order to be reduced to such a pitiable state. However, that would end today. No longer would the Imperials of the galaxy be fragmented and divided. Now was the time for the great reunification of the Imperial Remnants, and Sularen had now set out to ensure that it would occur through any means necessary. Thanks to Tiber Fel's Continuity Standard Protocol, the foundations had already been laid out for reunification; now the Imperials needed someone to actually push them towards that goal, and Sularen intended to be that person.

As such, a small summit had been called on board the INV Sularen's Revenge above Mon Calamari. Here, the leaders of the Final Dawn, Mahporeem Imperial Remnant and Bastion Imperial Remnant would meet to begin the first step towards Imperial reunification. Having already met with them on many previous occasions, Sularen knew that they understood the gravity of the situation and the very importance of Imperial reunification. Individually, they had proven their worth to the Imperial cause through the immaculate display of their capabilities. However, neither of them could lead the Imperials on their own. If Imperialism was to return to the galaxy in force, then they would have to pool together every single resource at their disposal to forge one Imperial entity. One Empire to fix this chaotic, broken galaxy once and for all.

Thus, within a single conference room, Sularen patiently waited for his guests to arrive, seated at the head of a circular conference table with an orb-shaped holographic projector at it's center. Today would mark the beginning of the end of Imperial factionalism and warlordism once and for all.

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Tags | Tiber Fel | Ronhar Tane​

 

[Tiber Fel]

TIBER FEL

Regent · General · Architect of Obedience

:: Transmission Classification: Dorn-Obsidian // Authority Confirmed // Compliance Expected ::
:: Objective: The Stars Align::
:: Targets: Marlon Sularen | Ronhar Tane ::

Tiber Fel would have lied if he claimed the invitation surprised him.

Whether it had come as a consequence of his activation of the Continuity Standard Protocol, his rising profile among the scattered remnants, or simple necessity among Imperials who had begun to understand the limits of isolation, such a meeting had always been likely. Anticipated, even. That did not make it safe. Potential was not trust. An invitation was not good faith. Imperial history had no shortage of warlords who had called their peers to councils, summits, or reconciliations only to remove their rivals under the language of unity.

Fel did not intend to become a footnote in another man's consolidation.

He knew Sularen and the other invited figures mostly by reputation. That reputation offered a measure of reassurance where his personal safety was concerned, but less where doctrine and stability were involved. Survivors of the Confederation were, by definition, survivors of compromise. They had endured through utility, ambition, and the ugly mathematics of self-preservation. That did not make them weak. It did not make them fools. But it did place them outside the clean line of Imperial continuity Fel intended to restore.

He would offer no defence of Solipsis' Empire. It had been an abomination wearing Imperial shape, a shrine to Sith worship dressed in military architecture and terror. Yet the Confederation had opposed it at Atrisia in alignment with Sith and Jedi alike, joining another holy crusade of Force-bound depravity and calling it necessity. Perhaps it had been. Necessity had a way of making mockeries appear reasonable in the moment. That did not absolve them afterward.

The Hydra emerged from hyperspace above Mon Calamari.

The world below received little more than a glance from the Star Destroyer's sensor suite. After Mahporeem, the vessel had undergone refit and repair, its wounds sealed, its systems restored, its guns brought back into proper order. Now it moved through the void with quiet menace, shields charged and weapons held in disciplined restraint as it approached the massive battlecruiser chosen as the site of the meeting.

Neither Fel nor the Hydra's captain indulged illusions about what a direct engagement would mean. The battlecruiser possessed mass, power, and presence enough to turn diplomacy into execution if treachery had been prepared. The Hydra, in turn, was no ceremonial escort. She came armed, alert, and ready to make betrayal expensive.

That was the correct posture for peace among Imperials.

With little delay, Fel departed the Star Destroyer aboard a shuttle, accompanied by a compact escort of 501st stormtroopers. No parade. No excessive honour guard. Enough force to mark his station, not enough to insult the host by pretending this was an invasion. The shuttle crossed the intervening distance and entered the designated hangar, its engines lowering to a controlled growl as it settled onto the deck.

The ramp descended.

Tiber Fel emerged in dark armour, fluted plates catching the hangar light only along their hard edges. His cloak moved behind him with the weight of a shadow pulled loose from the floor. The stormtroopers followed in disciplined formation, red markings stark against white armour, their presence precise and contained. Fel did not pause to admire the vessel around him. He measured it in passing: security, sightlines, access routes, blast doors, personnel density, the quiet habits of a warship that revealed more than ceremony ever did.

Guided onward, he moved through the corridors toward the appointed conference room. His pace remained steady, neither hurried nor indulgent. Every step carried the same controlled inevitability he brought to a battlefield. This was not war, not yet, but diplomacy between Imperials was rarely the opposite of war. It was simply another theatre where hierarchy, ambition, and survival tested one another without open fire.

At last, he entered the conference room where Marlon Sularen awaited. Fel came to a stop at a measured distance. The expressionless visor fixed upon the Supreme Commander, unreadable beneath the dark ridges of the helm.

"Supreme Commander."

The greeting was formal. Sparse. Exact. It acknowledged rank without surrendering ground.

Order is not negotiated. It is enforced.

 

[Ronhar Tane]

FLEET ADMIRAL VORIN ZONILL
INV SULAREN'S REVENGE
OUTER RIM

At this point, it hadn't been a matter of "if", but rather a matter of "when". With the attack on Mahporeem, "when" had become "as soon as humanly possible".

Fleet Admiral Vorin Zonill and the MIN Collateral Star had arrived at the precise coordinates given to them by Marlon Sularen . Ever since the rebel raid, Mahporeenian security had been increased to levels not seen since the failed war against the Sith, and the Collateral Star was being sortied out as much as possible despite the intensive maintenance that such a ship required to stay operational. Given the fact that the Wild Space Rebellion could be lurking anywhere, the operational security costs were seen as necessary in order to ensure the safety of Mahporeem's top ranking officers, with Zonill being no exception to this. That was why Zonill figured that Marlon had chosen to host this meeting on his flagship, on the off chance that the Imperials were ambushed and needed to fight their way out or make a quick escape. He could see that Tiber Fel had already beaten him here, even despite the damage that his ship had received during the raid on Mahporeem.

Still, the fact that he had made it here at all was a good sign. At the very least, he remained committed to the Imperial cause despite the damage his ship had taken and the casualties he had suffered, hence his presence here. With Marlon presumably already on board, it was time for Zonill to join them.

Within a few minutes of Zonill's arrival, a single Vureykri T-1 Shuttle and its QIE/FN escorts exited one of the hangars of the Collateral Star and made their way to the Sularen's Revenge, quickly setting down so that Zonill could make his way to the conference room where the meeting was taking place. Accompanied by a few of his Chrome Guardians, Zonill quickly made his way directly to Fel and Sularen. Taking a moment to compose himself before he entered the room properly, Zonill walked through the conference room doors, locking eyes with the two men already there.

"Supreme Commander, Lord Fel, it is good to see you both well. Especially you, for we had feared the worst after the attack on Mahporeem", Zonill remarked as his gaze hovered over Tiber, before he found his place at the conference table.

TAGS:
Marlon Sularen
Tiber Fel
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