Diplomacy The Wolves | NIO & TSE

[IMPCOM]

"War is politics by other means."

- Carl von Clausewitz

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Xo. The world where defiance among the ranks of the Sith Empire pollinated in the eve of the congregation at the Ascendant Circle Hall. In its wake? War. A rebel government in-exile form and a bloody path carved into the Braxant Run. But the symbolism barely paid heed here as the crimson world served far better as a neutral site. Nestled just outside the gunmetal grey and bloodied red of the New Imperial Order and Sith Empire's space.

There, would be a meeting of minds between those who'd rather see the other at the end of a blade. But the beckon of the New Imperial Order to neutral ground was a precarious message with a simple sentiment accompanying it.

A realm right in two. An established set of terms for peace beneath the Iron Sun and Crimson Saber. In spite of their blood rage instilled in the face of the other, the wolves of the Galaxy surrounding them would feast on both of their bloated carcasses far long before they each felt the fiery vindication of a final victory over one another.

In spite of being enemies in a bloody schism, pride be damned, they were assembled to act in the interests of one another for the first and likely the last time between them.

NIO DELEGATION | Irveric Tavlar | Tyrell Paxxus | Jaeger Harrsk | Careena Fett | Lucien Dooku // Rurik Fel | Errant | Ravraa Vyshraal

TSE DELEGATION | Hailyn | AMCO | Taeli Raaf | Quinn Varanin | Telis Taharin-Zambrano

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THE WOLVES
F A L L S

​

He had once sworn himself a total war to the Sith Empire until they had no throne in their sights to dare lay claim to. But times changed. The Galaxy changed. Even if any metric might declare the New Imperial Order winning in its war over the Sith, the Empire they'd built was a steep mount to summit.

The blood red surface of Xo was an un-ignorable sight in every view port, every glasteel window of the space station in a horrible slighted glint of the surface below. A reminder of once, a desperate alliance. A desperate alliance with the Sith who the Order had now put in the shattered earth of Bastion.

It was a meager retinue Irveric arrived with, electing to bring only his closest advisors along with him for this meeting. A meeting where the Punished would stare into the eyes of the Devil and all its cohort and attempt to tell these demons why they should walk away giving him what he wanted.

It was conference table in a secluded room big enough to meet eye to eye but not keep them so confined that they feel reflexively compelled to kill one another. With two entrances on either end, troopers of the 501st stood flanked at one side and whoever the Sith would bring as detail at the other.

He sat at one end, his lone frigid gaze set squarely on who would sit to oppose him at the other end. He anticipated a tense, unnervingly quiet air about this meeting. It would be one occasion for two politicians who held a barrier between them strictly at ideological or national differences. It was another if those two had met the other on the field as these Sith and Imperials had.

"And so it begins." He spoke to break the silence, everyone had a vague enough idea of the party across from them to know that they belonged here, even if Irveric Tavlar evaded once more the opportunity to meet the Dark Lord himself in person. Not that it mattered here.

"Before we ever begin anything productive you must understand firstly what we are here to discuss. A war's end." Irveric states outright.

"Whatever delusions you have, the terms we speak of are here in isolation, I will not lecture you on ideology nor will you the vice versa. We may never exist in a true and final peace, I'm sure we've both accepted that. Nor can we carry a total war for eternity, thus, that is why we are here. But do tell what the Sith expect to be gained from this meeting and from there we may conduct ourselves on a basis of mutual understanding with a full context." Tavlar states, his regimented education as an Imperial Officer in his young adulthood showing in spades with how he speaks, what he says and how he carries himself.

He waited for a response.

NIO DELEGATION | Tyrell Paxxus | Jaeger Harrsk | Careena Fett | Lucien Dooku // Rurik Fel | Errant | Ravraa Vyshraal

TSE DELEGATION | Hailyn | AMCO | Taeli Raaf | Quinn Varanin | Telis Taharin-Zambrano

 

[Jaeger Harrsk]

R I S E _ O F _ E V I L
T H E _ X O _ C O N F E R E N C E​

Total War.

The concept had been rinsed and repeated a thousand and one times by him and others during COMPNOR rallies. The public's answer had always been a resounding yes rattling the confines of halls. With the reclamation of Bastion at the staggering cost it was the time to rebuild and to look to greater expanses beyond the Sith and their follies, beyond this small, isolated piece of space in the Mid-Rim.

New Order.

Across the galaxy. An ideology to consume the failures of democracies and theocracies plaguing the universe. A New Order to rise from the ashes of the Old, a new generation to guide the galaxy and enact justice for past wrongs. A generation of revenge.

The New Imperial delegation took their seats opposite that of the Sith-Imperials. Beneath his glasses, Harrsk scanned those represeting the Sith - he quickly found the Emperor to be absent.

So who were they negotiating with exactly?

A question for a later time perhaps. The Imperator laid down the beginning of the conference and Jaeger resigned himself to lean back and steeple his fingers. He hoped for short negotiations beneficial for the New Imperials but expected a continuation of the total war.

To the last man.
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New Imperial Delegation: Irveric Tavlar | Tyrell Paxxus | Careena Fett | Lucien Dooku | Rurik Fel | Errant | Ravraa Vyshraal

Sith-Imperial Delegation: Hailyn | AMCO | Taeli Raaf | Quinn Varanin | Telis Taharin-Zambrano

​

 

[Ravraa Vyshraal]

THE CRUEL WARS​

He would be there at the end, and rightfully so.

The sight of the forgotten and unmentionable world of Xo was one to offend. The blood red hues bled through every last window on the transport craft to the docking pads of the space station. Every last transparisteel crossection of windows and viewports screamed that same shade into the hallways and paths. At face value, it reminded Ravraa of his own skin reflected in the ponds of Shili, in deeper thought, it brought to mind the spilled blood of his brothers in arms through each and every world that he had marched through under the Imperator’s beat.

He had never truly met the man, and, in honest, wasn’t sure if he ever would share an actual word with him. The closest he ever had gotten was VIP duty such as this, ever since that throne room, so long ago. It felt like generations had passed since then. He was certain he would have slipped out on a stolen starfighter by now, settled back home, laughing and roaring with his friends out by the old creek past pa’s freighter. Why wasn’t he? Why was he lockstep in beat with other men and women clad in betaplast and the cobalt shades of the 501st? Perhaps there was a purpose through each of the steps, perhaps there was a reason that he simply accepted things as they had become.

The meeting symbolized something, he supposed. Something that children would study in textbooks down the line, for better or worse. In reality, it would be a test of patience for Ravraa. He had dedicated himself to the New Imperial Order, to protect some vague concept of right. Some vague concept of what the Galaxy needed. To keep the Red Curtain as far as he could manage from Shili. He could care less how the meeting proceeding, whether peace was gained or not.

He would just as soon march to Moraband, across the stars and voids, if it meant that he could keep his home safe. If it meant that once he hung up his blaster and helmet, he was able to take Jeresan somewhere. He was able to settle down peacefully. Nod off in a chair while the kids played with what they would, his husband chasing after them.

Snap to.

He was in the here, the now, and the reality of the situation was there.

Ravraa, and another 501st solider, who’s name he did not know, entered the would be meeting room. Putting their backs against the wall of either side of the doorway, bringing their blasters to the ready at their shoulders. Boots clapping on the floor and hands shooting up to salute as the man himself, Imperator Tavlar, passed between them. You could feel it, less man than presence, as if the title meant more than his actual name. Ravraa could say little about the man, and even his first name hardly stayed on his tongue for long, dancing around in the back of his mind. So easy to forget. In the begining, he assumed that Tavlar would be just like any of the other would be “great men” in history. Standing behind a desk and demanding men die in lines for him. That friends, lovers, and comrades would throw themselves into the endless breach to save his vision for the Galaxy.

Tavlar did that, of course. But he also asked the same from himself.

Ravraa respected him for that.

In terms of the Sith, Ravraa had gone out of his way to make a point, even with the no-words he would speak in their presence. Bastion was a proving ground for Ravraa, the final strike on the anvil, and he hardly could care anymore. Instead of the craftwork of the New Imperial Order’s gunsmiths, a battered and formerly used Sith-Imperial Judicator sat in his grip. A mark scratched into the barrel. One dead Sith. From his belt hung that very Sith’s saber, that of Lord Noxwalda. Met and killed the man within a half hour, just another day for the stormtrooper.

Laxing from attention, but still standing proper, Ravraa kept his eyes peered across the table. Words popping here and there from Tavlar’s initial statements.

He was blunt. That was good at least.

There was another man in the room, from the NIO delegation, someone that Ravraa had only learned of as of this mission. No direct name was given to refer to him, simply a codename. “Teta”

VIP or not, the man made the Togruta nervous.

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NIO DELEGATION: Irveric Tavlar Tyrell Paxxus Careena Fett Lucien Dooku Rurik Fel Errant Jaeger Harrsk

SITH DELEGATION: Hailyn AMCO Taeli Raaf Quinn Varanin Telis Taharin-Zambrano

 

[Tyrell Paxxus]

G R A N D _ V I Z I E R
// NEW IMPERIAL ORDER //
// THE WOLVES //
P E A C E _ S E L L S

​

Xo; Where it all started.

'Diplomacy with the Sith' wasn't a phrase Tyrell thought he'd ever hear in regards to the New Order. Even more surprising was the actual manifestation of such a concept. Total War; That's what everyone expected. What Tyrell expected. What he wanted? That was a different story. Fighting the Sith to the farthest egresses of their territory and snuffing them into obscurity was a rather appealing concept. On the surface, at least. But wars needed soldiers. Soldiers were people, not to be treated like cogs in a machine. Were they to throw them into blind expendability for the dogged pursuit of annihilation, were they really any better than the Sith?

"We didn't start this fight to become them. We started this fight to prove ourselves their betters."

"Remember."​

Tyrell remembered. It was often lost in a collective desire for vengeance. Here and now, however, he remembered. COMPNOR didn't. How could they? Better yet, why would they? Total war. That was the idea. Force iconoclasm; the supremacy of the normal. Total war for peace. Ironic? Perhaps, but sithborne suffering was an appealing evil to rally against. Well warranted as well, from a certain point of view.

Nor can we carry a total war for eternity-​

Neither side could. The New Imperials in all their determination nor the Sith in all their hubris were oblivious to that. Tyrell would perhaps be pleased with peace. A well-earned reprieve for the people of the New Order. But, if not, total war didn't exactly vex him, either. War was what he knew. Fleets, uniforms, protocol, and etiquette; it was his life. Vaulkhar's final words to Tyrell couldn't have been closer to the truth. But, sometimes, the truth wasn't practical.

'Peace is a lie.' The very first line of the Sith Code. They didn't start this fight to become them. But, perhaps, in some twisted way, they were right.

Tyrell hoped not.

NIO DELEGATION | Irveric Tavlar | Jaeger Harrsk | Careena Fett | Lucien Dooku | Rurik Fel | Errant | Ravraa Vyshraal

TSE DELEGATION | Hailyn | AMCO | Taeli Raaf | Quinn Varanin | Telis Taharin-Zambrano

 

[Hailyn]

There was no seeing eye to eye.

A single cursory glance given to those judgmental glares was enough to assure him of that. The searching eyes looking for a man that wasn't with them, the silent disappointment, the wasted words on preaching - they only confirmed what he'd been expecting. There would be no validation from Darth Carnifex to give to anyone here, especially not for those that desired to confirm some fantastical self-fulfilling prophecy. "I - and the rest of us - have no reason to waste words on ideology, Tavlar." He said. The seat that would be opposite of the Imperator was of course Taeli Raaf , the diplomatic mouthpiece for the Empire as she had been for quite some time now - but that wasn't to stop the Shi'ido from dragging his chair to sit at her side.

"We want what you've claimed - to end this pointless conflict." Vesta added as he sat down. The rest of his contingency, those who were unimportant enough to have never had their faces grace the wanted boards of the Empire. "Our only desire, as I am sure Miss Raaf can confirm, is not to leave here with an agreement that might as well have been resolved in the field of war. I am sure the question that we should be posturing over, though, is what does the New Imperial Order want? What is it you desire enough that you're willing to put an end to a conflict you've started?" He continued as he settled into his seat and motioned for Quinn Varanin to stand by his side, his eyes momentarily lingering on the face of her half-brother before shifting back to the only person in the room he'd come to see.

"What is it? Territory? A change in Imperial policy? Ending a war is as simple as halting the offensive line, we have absolutely no intention of putting our focus on a lost cause."

He shrugged, an arched brow creasing the crescent tattoo at the center of his forehead.

"Normally the losing side sues for peace and offers up what they're willing to give in exchange for it, it's rather unusual for one to take the capital of a nation and then ask what they're willing to do to cease the violence." The glint in his eyes and the lack of strain on his features implied an inkling of amusement, perhaps suspicion. "I suppose I should mention to you that we've no desire to give anything without something in return, Imperator. Ending a war is hardly as large a boon as you'd assume. If you want something more than a literal ceasefire than you'd better be ready to provide a reason beyond it for us to give in."

Careena Fett Jaeger Harrsk Lucien Dooku Rurik Fel Errant Ravraa Vyshraal
AMCO Telis Taharin-Zambrano

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THE WOLVES
F A L L S

​

There was an incorrect impression in the room. There was no pouting children looking for vindication from their exalted Dark Lord. At the very least, Tavlar had never seen the man face to face, spoke to him man to man or looked to him eye to eye. There was no personal yearning for revenge. To him, they a mirage of the same figure looking back to him. Could've been Carnifex, Prazutis, Voracitos, Palpatine or Vitiate looking back to him from across this table, he didn't care.

This was not a personal matter, this was a matter of a nation against a nation. A war. And as any wise man knows, war is just politics by other means. And politics...is just economics by other means. What had begun as a ideological schism had now formed into a far more nuanced conflict. Numbers, logistics, foreign relations, all of it.

They made immediately clear, intentional or not. That this was not a war they cared to continue and immediately with was a glimpse, even if the feintest at what the talks within the halls of the Imperial Citadel at Dromund Kaas might've pertained to.

But alas, then came the treacherous waters of navigating the rest of this conversation down the river of diplomatic despair into a result that he at least, in his heart of hearts could be sated by. Peace, was ideal. But under his terms.

"I think you misunderstand the prospect of war, Vesta. When a side has acquired or believes it has acquired all it seeks to gain from a conflict, it will seek to end it. The war set out with three goals in mind, at least as it was discussed with my late confidants and the very retinue who has joined me here. Firstly, with the aim of establishing an Imperial state divergent from the that of the Sith Empire with a command not adherent to the whims of the Sith Order or its Dark Lord. That has been accomplished. Secondly, to seize control of the Braxant Run and seize control of the Imperial throne world of Bastion. That has been accomplished. Thirdly, to seize control of the Mandalore Sector and establish a Mandalorian Protectorate.

Unfortunately, you can not give us...what you can not control and thus, an irrelevant ambition as it pertains to this meeting and one that the New Imperial Order will go out on its own to accomplish." Tavlar states coldly, ever channeling his origins raised up through the Imperial Officer training institutions.

"I'm sure you know well by now of the full picture of what occurred on Bastion, in Ravelin proper. It is no longer any secret, our Operation there and I no have no doubt that will be an object of contention in seeing any sort've amicable peace with our state. And thus we should establish wholly, that the Sith does not trust the Imperial...and the Imperial...does not trust the Sith. What we can trust...is the face we show the rest of the Galaxy in the process. We told the Galaxy that we will not tolerate the Sith within our society, our government, our military, our culture...any of it. What you can tell the Galaxy is that your creed has been cleansed of the profligates and heretics within and that the Sith Empire is ever stronger to return to the gates of its old enemies once more." Irveric says.

"So what do we desire you are finally wondering. Recognition. We are not a rebel state nor are we a rogue state, we are an Imperial state and one that has established itself a legitimate government. One that is not here to drive itself in a spiraling course of mutual destruction alongside you into the grave. But one to stay. If more worlds end up like Mandalore, yours will not. The New Imperial Order has if anything, shined a light through the cracks of the Sith. Now you can fight us to the bitter end until your backs are against the wall at Dromund Kaas and the Iron Sun has eclipsed all you love or you can position yourself to carry a course that does not bury itself in the abyss." The Imperator offers, leaning forward in his seat, his gaze vixated on the Shi'do.

"This is a Galaxy for the wolves, Zambrano. And what sets the Sith apart from everyone else...is that there is no longer any place to hide. To your Galactic North, my Order, my Stormtroopers, my Armada and all their unbreakable will. To your South...the Silver Jedi. While your war might have taken hiatus, they are due to return again as the war of light and dark will see no rest...and due to consume everything else, the Bryn'adul...there is no speaking to them. What sets us apart from them...as that we are sitting here across from you and here you can take a bit more of your fate into your hands...instead of leaving it to the wolves to rip you limb from limb. "

"What I want...is the recognition of the New Imperial Sovereign claim which is what is under official New Imperial governance as is as well as the Mandalore Sector and the sectors parallel the Braxant Run from Morishim to Equanus and everything in between. What this does...is protect me from any retribution you might seek to bear down on us in generations further...and it protects you from the gambit you've been playing thus far, protects you from misjudging what the capability of our Order truly is. As I'm sure...you and the rest of the Emperor's retinue were not expecting Harnaidan, Dubrillion or Ravelin. Who knows what you can truly expect going forward. All you need do is move all military assets from these systems and the New Imperial Order will move to re-occupy it in due time. You can then shift whatever you have on our front...to that of the Silver Jedi, the Bryn'adul...everyone else." Irveric says outright.

"What I will give you. Is assurance. If you do not trust me to uphold our peace...then you certainly will not trust our ally, the Galactic Alliance. Every day, they grow larger, they more formidable and unlike our Order and your Empire who are bleeding themselves to the bone...they are untouched by war and they can smell the blood in the water, I assure you. If you can trust me to do anything, Zambrano. It is that I will protect my interests and the interests of my people. Peace...ultimately is...these wolves are not." Tavlar states simply.

NIO DELEGATION | Tyrell Paxxus | Jaeger Harrsk | Careena Fett | Lucien Dooku // Rurik Fel | Errant | Ravraa Vyshraal

TSE DELEGATION | Hailyn | AMCO | Taeli Raaf | Quinn Varanin | Telis Taharin-Zambrano

 

[Hailyn]

Puzzled, for a moment, and then expressionless.

"That's it?"

He leaned back, shifting slightly in his seat to favor his right side with a sigh. "You want us to hand you, what, six sectors because you think you could continue to press us to Dromund Kaas?" He asked, ignoring his point on recognition - a meeting such as this was already an acknowledgement of such, there would have been no discussions were they not given the credibility they believed they were deserved. "Or is it because you think we're going to pick up our torches and try to carry back over our current border to push towards your current capital?"

He scoffed.

"If all you desire are those plots of space I don't see why you wouldn't have pushed the offensive until you've acquired all you've sought to gain from our conflict, those were the words you just said, yes?" He pressed with a roll of his eyes. "You're here to ask us for territory, you're not here because you think you've gotten what you've wanted from us - and I should make this perfectly clear, we are not giving you anything without something in return. I've said it once, I've now said it twice, pray the force I needn't say it a third time." Vesta underscored as he leaned towards the table, resting his arms atop it. "Stop wasting my time and yours, war is an eventuality in this galaxy and no sweet words of yours, or your desire to be accepted by a galaxy that is never going to care about any of us, is going to make me believe someone who sold out his own beliefs because he thought it would solidify something as nebulous as your reputation."

"What reason do I have to give to you all of that lovely real estate beyond your word to cease hostilities? Hm? Because right now it sounds more and more like all you want to do is have a reason to continue to press in. You want Mandalore? Then you'll have to pry it from the hands of those stubborn backwater bucketheads."

"And don't throw the Jedi into this, or those beasts to the south. Before you were ever a soldier in the Empire the Sith were cutting them in half with each passing year, and those xenos? Couldn't even take a single planet from them. The only people in the room that matter are the Sith and your New Imperials. You have your recognition as a sovereignty, none of us - none of the Sith - care to deal with you or your Imperial legion any more than we have to. So quit your bloviating and get to the point. You want your planets? Then stay north of Myrkr, Ploo, and Kiros; you're clearly aware that we're keen to push back into the Silvers as we have since our inception years ago, leave them to us and play your games with your friends in the Alliance as I am sure you enjoy."

"Keep away from where our shadow spreads and the Empire will consider mounting an offensive on the Draelvasier that the Jedi, and evidently you, seem so concerned over. Two birds with one stone, hm? We'll throw ourselves into a war with the one group that seems to monopolize genocide on a scale greater than us, and you can have your buffer zone. Just stay north of the Silvers, and cease future hostilities, and we can arrive at an agreement."

He smiled.

"Unless my fellow Sith have other reasonable requests to propose."

Irveric Tavlar Ravraa Vyshraal Errant Tyrell Paxxus Jaeger Harrsk Careena Fett Rurik Fel Lucien Dooku
Quinn Varanin Taeli Raaf AMCO Telis Taharin-Zambrano

 

[Lucien Dooku]

THE NEXT SCREEN
Irveric Tavlar Tyrell Paxxus Jaeger Harrsk Careena Fett Rurik Fel Errant Ravraa Vyshraal

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You’ll always have people like that, swallowing belief patterns whole so they don’t have to think for themselves.

At least, that's what he'd come to learn since entering the world of politics. The lackies of the Zambrano Empire had brought to the meeting an air of superiority that seemed off-putting, considering the state of the war. It seemed as if the Order's desire to end their unending battle had ben misinterpreted as a sign of weakness, when in actuality it was the opposite indeed. The effort put into neutering their empire of resources, materiel and personnel was not worth it, in his opinion, despite how thorough the Order had been sweeping the Sith's forces on the battlefield.

He'd much rather have spent his time focusing internally, now that Bastion was properly liberated from unworthy hands, and the war itself seemed at a proper point to temporarily be brought to a halt. There were far more important things to do than waste time killing the indoctrinated pawns and their egotistical masters.

Killing them simply wasn't fun anymore. It had never been fun, to be honest, and the removal of them from conquered worlds had felt more akin to spring cleaning than the all-out war that it was near the beginning of their 'Civil War'.

Regardless, Luc would keep his feelings to himself, tempering the growing desire to leave the meeting entirely and return to duties that truly needed his involvement. Unimportant as Luc was, he somehow managed to twitch a smile towards their direction, resisting the temptation to knock their teeth down their throat, and folded himself into a chair with earbuds to drown out the noise.

Eyes closed.

Whatever happened next was left to the Imperator and the Grand Vizier.

​

 

[AMCO]

As far as wars went, this one was going especially poorly - not only had both sides suffered horrifying losses to the point of motivating him to dabble in Necromancy, the fighting had raged on Sith-Imperial soil. Peace was long overdue, as far as he was concerned, even if his fellow Dark Councillors would likely see it more as an opportunity to renew hostilities with ancient foes than a chance to focus on internal development and external politicking.

Such was the nature of the Sith - and, for that matter, the Jedi. It was unfortunate, but he could not but work with what he had.

Perched lazily in a chair, a characteristic (if somewhat muted) smile on his lips, the Sith Lord was largely content to listen as each side waxes poetic about their goals, proving in the process that as verbose as he sometimes tended to be, one could always be worse.

After sparing the briefest glance at Ravraa Vyshraal - something about the trooper seemed familiar, and not in a good way - he finally spoke up, tone somewhat amused. "Forgive my impudence, Imperator, but in this fantasy world of yours where we hand you an even greater foothold along the Braxant Run, what's to keep you from treating this treaty with as much respect as you did your alliance with those imbecile traditionalists?"

A strategist Adrian was not, but neither was he an idiot. "I agree with Lord Mori that any agreement would have to be built on reciprocity, we have both suffered shocking losses attempting to grind each other to dust, after all... but equally important, any peace must be structured and enforced. Promises mean little if our respective forces remain looming over each other, unable to redeploy elsewhere for fear of betrayal."

TSE: Hailyn | Taeli Raaf | Quinn Varanin | Telis Taharin-Zambrano
NIO: Irveric Tavlar | Tyrell Paxxus | Jaeger Harrsk | Careena Fett | Lucien Dooku | Rurik Fel | Errant | Ravraa Vyshraal

​

 

[Telis Taharin-Zambrano]

Telis kept his hand to his chin as he leaned forward, eyes squinted at the table as he comprehend the demand of the New Imperial Order’s gathered council; some leaders, some entitled brats who wield false titles as power, and others obscure faces whom Telis had never heard of in his career, the bottom of the barrel and still sitting at the table where the lords feasted and played at chess. Draped over his shoulders was the skin of the first casualty of the Heresy, once a Sith Knight of Telis in equal measure, his fur woven into a cloak that stood as starkly as a midnight sun against his black clothing and onyx armor, emblazoned with the traditional imagery of the Sith Empire in crimson red. His own eyes were a shade of gold, piercing, focused, shifting like the codix of a great machine yet burning with a ferocity akin to war.

The New Imperial Order let their demands seem as gracious and as ‘generous’ as a miser’s humility, spat in the face of all that the Sith Empire was, and wore a smile as though they had just gifted roses. They, who bled their own supporters and declared themselves to be the saviors of the galaxy of the Sith scourge, in a display of cruelty and arrogance, who now say before them and said that they had no qualms and it was all truly ‘just a war of land.’ They, who sat before them now claiming contentedness and then demanding systems full of land, people, cultures, and trade that were never theirs to begin with, as though they had miraculously found some religious sacrament stating that ‘They who shall be profane shall be fed upon a silver platter.’ They, who insulted the Empire, killed his men, and then thought they could walk having only fought for half their goal.

They, with nothing short of a privilege that made even Telis seem meager, had written themselves a fantasy in which they would return home glorious heroes of pacifism for the cause of the greater galaxy. Telis took in a deep breath, feeling his presence in the Force fade deep inside of him, mixing with his atoms, and drawing from the calamity of anger in his soul a sense of calmness, and stillness. He opened his eyes, breathing out, as he brought his fingers together to form a small pyramid, wrists resting against the table, his eyes set towards Tavlar’s with a focus rivaling that of a Titan cursed to hold up the sky. Telis felt the sting of their insults, and as he looked towards the ‘Imperator,’ the false emperor, he allowed his eyes to squint once again.

”Do you take us for fools, Irveric Tavlar?” While he didn’t shout, his voice resonated like the echo of a gun, present and encroaching, full of force and volume but not aggression, merely presence. It was the voice of an orator, a man used to addressing others and bending them under the heel with nothing more than a single few words in commandment. Telis let these words be clearly heard by the ears of each of the representatives of the New Imperial Order, from one warlord to another, from one demagogue to another. Telis, however, made no attempt to hide the villain he was at heart. That couldn’t be the same said for the man he addressed.

”Because I know you aren’t a fool enough to not understand that peace is a mutual benefit, for your Order much as the Sith Empire. Peace is what assures us from stepping back on your throat, and we can all remember how your settlements faltered and fell like stones when we marched upon them. Lord Prospero has outlined well how you have taken our systems, one by one, and claimed Bastion as your new seat… but look at the costs, Irveric, show your New Imperial Order the fact that when they go to war they bleed just as any other.” Telis tore his gaze away from Irveric, letting his hands collapse together, clasping his two palms as he gazed over the gathered faces, all of them shallow with attempted diplomacy written on their brows.

”A peace would help you as much as it helps us. That is a settlement that we can both agree on. This war is costly for all sides, especially for a fledgling nation such as your own. We can do peace, that is a given that we will not turn down, but any ambition more will cost. You want to be recognized? Go ask any nation, they all recognize you as a threat, as scum. There’s your recognition, and note that we had no such part to play in that. Consider that ‘recognition’ a charity, for how generous a charity of an offer you’ve given us in return.” Telis’s voice sneered with a hint of sarcasm with his words, bitter, cold, and toxic, resembling that of a black hole or a deep abyss than the fair-faced man who now sat in his metaphorical throne as a lord of war.

Leaning back in his seat, Telis gave a good, long look once more at the assembly, his hands slamming down on the table with a subdued force, his eyes once more turning to Tavlar as he raised his eyebrow, before once more he squinted, his mouth pulled back in supposed, perceived disgust. ”You want anything more than peace and that gift of recognition? You will have to pay, measure. For. Measure. You still believe you are in your dream, your propaganda worked ‘so well’ as to solely infect the minds of your leaders and most prominent. You wish for the systems parallel to the Braxant Run? We’ll offer them gladly… on the condition that you pay us back in systems just as prominent, affluent, and important for each system you take.”

Aagenti’s hands pulled back from the table, once more making the small pyramid, before he sat up, resting his hands in his lap as he looked around to his fellow Sith diplomats, nodding towards Vesta and Adrian, before turning once more to Irveric, leaning forward with another, spontaneous thought. ”Oh! And another thing - even if peace is settled upon, Irveric, do not think us so foolish to level our weapons in response. No matter what we walk out with from this building, from this meeting… the Sith Empire will be ready for you to cut your loyalties, just as you cut your loyalties to the members that founded your Order. Welcome to the galactic playing field, Irveric Tavlar. You wish for diplomacy? You must quickly learn that liars get no advantage.”

TSE: Hailyn | Taeli Raaf | Quinn Varanin | AMCO
NIO: Irveric Tavlar | Tyrell Paxxus | Jaeger Harrsk | Careena Fett | Lucien Dooku | Rurik Fel | Errant | Ravraa Vyshraal

 

[Jaeger Harrsk]

W E _ W A L K E D _ I N _ L I N E
T H E _ X O _ C O N F E R E N C E​

Jaeger observed calmly the back-and-forth negotiations between the Zambrano and the Imperator. Then two other Sith chimed in, they spewed something about fantasy worlds and so on. Jaeger scoffed. The Sith were pushed back and their throne world reclaimed, three times they tried, three times they failed; and now they dare believe to wage war on three fronts? Arrogance.

Arrogance once more dictating their actions, their faux belief in strength only based on past laurels. Arrogance had cost the Sith before, it had cost them now and it will cost them in the future. The New Imperials had proved so. If they had to, they could prove once more again until the New Imperial flag waves over Kaas as it did over Bastion.

He leaned towards the Imperator and whispered, "The Jedi and Sith killing each other is an outcome I fully support for obvious reasons." he paused and added, "but if the Sith sound so certain in their strength perhaps we are to teach them a lesson. Again."

Jaeger wondered if the Sith were truly ready to face a total war - a war more total and radical than anything that can even yet be imagined.

--
New Imperial Delegation: Irveric Tavlar | Tyrell Paxxus | Careena Fett | Lucien Dooku | Rurik Fel | Errant | Ravraa Vyshraal

Sith-Imperial Delegation: Hailyn | AMCO | Taeli Raaf | Quinn Varanin | Telis Taharin-Zambrano

​

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THE WOLVES
B L E E D _ T H E _ F R E A K

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He'd been in service to the Sith in many forms for over two decades before he betrayed them all to begin a war he'd now been carrying for two years. For the first time during it all, Irveric Tavlar laughed. It was a symphony of delusion and hubris, not as if he should've expected any different. This was less a diplomacy and more an attempt a self assurance, a blood shot gaze in the mirror regaling the image of the self in pififul self idolation to conceal the cracks that had been so permanently embedded in the flesh.

The first retort came the way of the Zambrano.

"You expect me to believe your Sith Empire will so easily cut a bloody swath through the Silver Jedi. I was there the last the Sith met the Silver Jedi in force. Kintan. The Dark Lord, the Dark Councilor and all their retinue of Sith I was supposed to deem invincible arrived to a pitiful world and were driven back by a motley group of Jedi. You might find success in an initial offensive into Myrkyr, the very grant given to the pitiful Mandalorians which have proven themselves all too adept at letting the Sith herd them to the slaughter like dogs. A pitiful bunch. But the Jedi will make due on it not long after, believe me. I find it amusing that you continue to insult the very enemies who have made you bleed time and time again, Zambrano. But perhaps it is that very hubris which has led the Empire to this point. But please, I welcome you to make war on them. You will not see us intervening." Tavlar suggests.

Next came Vandiir, his response more logical in all fairness but from a position of false leverage.

"Then tell me what you would institute to structure and 'enforce' this peace. As far as I can tell all the Sith care for in return is for the New Order not to tread on lands...they have no governance over, essentially protecting their mortal enemy." Tavlar states.

Then...then came the best one of all. Telis Taharin, the Pyramid of Military Command. The supreme commander of the Sith-Imperial Legions.

"You speak boldly, Taharin. Boldly for a man at the reigns of command of the Sith-Imperial military and perhaps rightfully. It is a monuments position. And from this affluent reign of command you regard us as scum, so easily disregarded, so easily defeated. All of you Sith are so swift to belittle the New Imperial Order...a rabble of men and women in black and white." Tavlar continues.

"The very same...who marched unto Harnaidan...and beat you. The same who marched the ramparts of Mygeeto...and beat you. Who charged the beaches on Dubrillion...and beat you. And who arrived at the most fortified planet in the Galaxy, the very seat of your Empire, the nexus of pride and strength of the Sith-Imperial. We arrived, we not only butchered the Sith Apostates like limp dogs in the very streets you protected in desperation...but we beat you, Telis Taharin. This facade of confidence, hubris, this very disregard for the men and women who march in line to prop up the gilded foundation each of you walk on is precisely why you've lost all you have. To have you, a man who has been at the reins of command to a slew of monumentous defeats and was no where to be seen in the brief spark of Sith triumph against us call me a fool? You are not a clown, Telis Taharin. You are the entire circus. I will no longer field these insults as they are a product of blatant insecurity." Tavlar states before his gaze turns to the rest of them.

"Now that you've vented your vitriol, as that is truly the only way the Sith can seem to understand and conduct diplomacy, immediately coursing into every agreement as if the other side owes them anything at all when they've no leverage to speak themselves on the grounds of well and true reality. As clearly laying out legitimate facts, numbers and realities clearly do nothing. I am altering the deal. The New Imperial Sovereign claim extends to Serenno. In return. I offer you no worlds, The New Imperial Order will acknowledge and respect whatever claim you wish to stake in the space of the Silver Jedi and will vow non intervention in your war. It is not our business. I will return to you every prisoner of war that you care to see welcomed back into the Sith Empire. Madelyn Lowe, whoever else. I do not care to keep them and I assure you are more useful in your hands than mine. I will welcome any commercial agreement that you'd ever care to establish but I'm sure anything mutually beneficial will be ripped to the wayside in favor of a prideful visage."

"And so those are the terms, you leave your neighbor to your north so wholly content that it will never attack you again. Whatever potential territorial ambition it would have, sated and our relations isolated. All it truly requires in the end is to swallow your pride for just long enough to cede land you never truly cared for to begin with. And no one will care because you'll fill the void by feasting on the hearts of the Jedi and the Bryn'adul. Leaving the New Imperial Order as it is will potentially leave you three fronts of near total war to contend with. Tell me whatever delusional estimate you want, but that is not maintainable under any circumstance. Now I will only field replies that will either be conducive to negotiation and diplomacy from here on out. If you are here to remark me or anyone else on my side as foolish once more, I will be sure to bring millions more 'fools' with me the next we encoutner eachother. Whatever said prior is forgiven, irrelevant. So then, propose any amendments or alterations to this deal as you see fit to guide it into a place where the Sith Empire might find it more palletable to its interests...or don't speak at all." Tavlar says.

NIO DELEGATION | Tyrell Paxxus | Jaeger Harrsk | Careena Fett | Lucien Dooku // Rurik Fel | Errant | Ravraa Vyshraal

TSE DELEGATION | Hailyn | AMCO | Taeli Raaf | Quinn Varanin | Telis Taharin-Zambrano

 

[Careena Fett]

[ S o n s _ O f _ M a n d a l o r e ]

[ Shadow ]
​

Talks of diplomacy brought nothing but irritation to the Alor to Clan Fett, who was hidden up above where the talks were being held, silently looking on as her ghostly figured with her armor seeming to blend in with the environment, using her advanced systems to keep an ear open as delegates of both the New Imperial Order and the Sith Empire came together to discuss the aftermath of the fall of Bastion. Careena merely watched in disgust as they spoke amongst themselves, knowing full well that these talks were likely to fall short, and with either side more than likely having a knife ready behind their backs. Politics bored the Mandalorian who was only present as a delegate of the Sons of Mandalore who had been present to aid the New Imperial Order so that their vengeance could be paid in full, and the restoration of their people and culture could be realized within her lifetime. ​

​

Were it up to her, these delegates would have been slaughtered and sent back to the pitiful Sith as a reminder that they were no longer in charge, no longer held the presence nor commanded the respect or fear of those outside of their Empire. The fact that the Sith Emperor himself failed to make an appearance when Tavlar himself had put out the effort to oversee such diplomatic matters in person spoke volumes. Bastion was their harsh wake-up call - and if they did not heed it, more and more systems would fall to the New Imperial Order aided by all who opposed the Sith, and they could either choose to swallow their pride and admit defeat or watch the very Empire they had spent so many years building up be torn apart, piece by piece till nothing of it remained.​

​

Careena watched in complete, analytical silence, a hand gripping her rifle with her finger loosely hovering over the trigger, a portion of her hoping, praying, that a foolish member of the Sith delegation attempted something so that she could be given a reason to simply put them down like the dogs that were now all bark and no bite they were. Retribution for Mandalore had yet to be paid in full, for the sin of trampling upon a culture that had existed for as long as time could remember was tarnished, over and over again by the impudent Sith. While many would simply demand a call to arms, Careena was patient, content with waiting for the Sith Empire to make one false move before pulling the very floor out from beneath their feet. ​

​

There was the scent of blood in the air, and all the Sith Empire could do was bare their fangs and hope that no one challenged them, realizing full well that the moment they show a sign of weakness, it would be their throats that are gone after. They were to be humiliated, and broken down, just as they had done to her people.​

​

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A Mandalorian Never Forgets

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NIO: // Irveric Tavlar | Tyrell Paxxus | Jaeger Harrsk | Lucien Dooku | Rurik Fel | Errant | Ravraa Vyshraal
TSE:// Hailyn | AMCO | Taeli Raaf | Quinn Varanin | Telis Taharin-Zambrano ​