Faction Banners of the Fallen I [EMPIRE]

[DECEASED Aron Gowrie]

3rd Post

-A FALSE SPRING STORY-

WILDCAT_ONE
TRIBAL-CHIEFTAIN OF AN-TUATHA
MAJOR-GENERAL OF WILDCAT DIVISION
SWORD OF THE VALKYRIES

Tags : Rose Dorce Cataca Atra Melvain Braxis Argilac Bex Tarring

TRIBULATIONS OF THE WILDCATS VII: A DARKENED PLANET - PART 3

AID-SECTOR 1, EAST DISTRICT,
PRIMUS, NORIS (879 ABY)

'LIDAR devices are primed and ready, Milord. Requesting permission to activate-'
​

'Go for it! But be sure t'send the data down t'Major Reed as well - he knows exactly what to do with it.', Lord Aron quickly responded, answering Lord Byron's request with eyes still firmly fixed on the city's eastern districts at the time. Quite content to get the show on the road, the search was finally underway, letting out a sigh before muttering,'I get the feeling this won't take very long, but still - I'd rather be here a little longer.... Morbid though such desires may be.', to the other Goidelic Laird who would be remaining by his side for the mission in it's entirety. But just as expected, Lord Carwood was having none of it, rolling his eyes in expected disapproval as his commanding officer continued,'I know, I know.... Its the silence though, anywhere else an' I feel like my skin's crawling, but out here - it calms me.', which came as no surprise to McGechin in the slightest.

'Aye, ye know exactly what that is though.... An' if ye want tae avoid an early discharge, ye best keep that chite tae yersel - best be honest wae yersel noo.... Been in the game too long - an' its aw done a proper number oan ye, so it has.'

Shifting uncomfortably on the spot, and visibly knocked into acquiescence to make matters worse for himself, the Kellas had no other option but to admit the truth in his soul as he admitted,'Fair point, but still, though I might be - let us not forget that I'm still more effective than most generals in my traumatised state of mind. An' its not like we have much to traumatise ourselves now, is it?', having his perspective aired out in needless defensiveness against the truth of the matter. Gowrie's illustrious career (despite all that he had achieved as an Imperial general) was slowly drawing to it's natural conclusion, and as much as he resisted the temptation to confirm McGechin's concerns, there was no avoiding the fact Lord Aron's persistence would only damage his mind, body and soul to irreparable extremes in the end.

'I had a feeling you'd say that, Aron. As much as I didn't want to, I knew that dreaded moment would arrive, an' I even chided myself for making such predictions.... Never pegged you for the type, Kellas..... Always thought you were more cunning than the stupid,"Blaze of Glory", archetype, but I guess the voice within was right all along - an' I hate that so fethin' much it actually infuriates me.'

Both Goidelic Lairds, staring out into the silent city streets of Primus' western districts, would silence themselves for the sake of the rare serenity they'd found for themselves, lighting cigarras in maintained silence until Lord Aron eventually replied,'Worry not, my dear friend.... For I will make it count when the time comes.', speaking with a proper elocution he was seldom known to utilise in life. Whatever it was that the Kellas was planning, he was set in his ways, but little did the Major-General know that his Woad-born subordinate would struggle with the same deathly urges, as the effort to suppress it would likely have appeared more along the lines of disapproval in Gowrie's eyes.

'And it will only count when it ensures the survival of our people.... Only then will my life be spent with reason - with meaning.'

<"LIDAR activation in three, two....">

<"Reed to Guardian One! We've got blips.... But even better, we've picked up more than a few helmet-trackers. All switched on from the same prompt, so I think we have our objectives in sight.">

<"Splitting squads up now, distribute the other devices to those who deployed alongside us today. Guardian One out!">

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

5th Post

-A FALSE SPRING STORY-

SHIELD_ONE
LORD-REGENT OF THE EMPIRE
GRAND-TRIUMVIR OF THE TARKINIST ADMINISTRATION
GOVERNOR-CHIEFTAIN OF GALIDRAAN III

Tags: Ignacious Korvan FN-999 Bex Tarring Marcus Bastion [OPEN FOR POLITICAL CHARACTERS]

FATE OF THE REALM VIII: IMPERIUM, FOR ALL ITS WORTH - PART FIVE

CONFERENCE HALL, GRAND ASSEMBLY BUILDING,
RAVELIN, BASTION (SUMMER OF 879 ABY)

'I agree with the Lord-Regents frank appraisal of the reality of the situation.'
​

Another weighty pillar, willing to add his approval with that of the Lord-Baron of Borosk, Moff Bastion had effectively just sealed the success of Lord-Regent Barran's great gamble, and with little more than calmly endeavouring the act of standing and talking in and of their own sort of sequences. The old Woad was impressed, and thus willingly kept his mouth shut for Marcus' sake as his true amble began,'Now is not the time to be wasteful or seeking glory at the expense of our citizens. We need to be shoring up our defences not over extending our lines… Atleast until such a time of renewed strength.', letting the prestigious glory of Imperial statecraft display itself in clear view of the chamber's many cam-droids - in clear, broadcasted view of the entire realm.

'The good Baron is right, rebellion will be fuelled by guerilla warfare and partisan forces. I have made my career hunting down such insurgencies, his suggestions of reinforcing civilian centers holds merit. However I would also emphasise that preventing these rebel factions from unifying into an Alliance would also be key. Our history is full of the failure of Empires at the hands of a Unified Rebellion. Without unity Guerillas may be surrounded and eliminated as necessary. With allies they have resources, trade routes. At best stamping out rebellions becomes a game of holo-wacka mole. At worst rebellion can turn into revolution.'

In the short pause, Lord Erskine would see something of an understandably-personal expression forming on Lord Marcus' face for a moment or two, seen expressing something rueful behind the warmth of his smile, a wryness to which his Lord-Regent was no stranger in the slightest. But when Bastion's gaze eventually scanned across to Barran's own, the old Woad would see the well-meaning nature had remained despite the truth in his heart, nodding silent assent to continue so as not to give a guarded impression of himself.

A subtle means of assuring good, safe company to speak candidly.

'And Despite the flowery praise of our new treaties I doubt any of the other major powers of the galaxy would give us aid.'

Agreements, accords, alliances; all were torn asunder, all were disdained before the writs were torn to shreds, all were disdained by so-called friends before the last shot was fired. Earning the dutiful Moff another reprieve, and in the form of a silenced chamber at that, ringing with an undeniable truth of which all in attendance were acutely aware, and such that brought out the same wryness in everyone. Though fortunately for all who were forcing themselves to recall everything that enraged them on the matter, Bastion was deftly quick in his attempt to change the tone of his statements as he continued,'The Chiss could be of great value an asset, particularly in this time of uncertainty.', showing his mindful satisfaction in getting his point across without overindulging the wrath everyone felt towards the other factions in the Galaxy.

'Perhaps if as the Lord-Regent suggests an oath of fealty would dissuade those factions within our borders from becoming radical. If we as an Empire can demonstrate our good will towards the Chiss. It would be a useful counter point to any dissatisfied objections towards us. Which may very well be enough to prevent radicalization of those movements.'

'Very well put, Moff Bastion....', the Lord-Regent replied, rising again to speak in response to the statements of his political contemporaries, but with a cigarra in hand this time. Raising it for all to see, Barran's permission would be given to the entire Assembly to smoke with him, lighting and smoking a few drags before he continued,'And to grant more pennies for your thoughts, though I dare say this would stick my neck out even farther for their sake, we could also work to find worthy politicians to represent them - here, as planetary representatives among the Grand Assembly.', disregarding inner-monologue that warned he was going too far for the sake of humouring such matters. A great risk, but despite it all, the old Woad had always known of his,"Gambling Man", traits; and as everyone knew, and as much as Lord Erskine himself often despised such truths of the soul, old habits would always die hard in Galactic life.

'Not that we need to abandon our vetting processes or anything.... First off, we were all subject to the same process when we were appointed, so its not like we'd be unfair to implement the same system with the Chiss. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it.", as the old adage goes.'

Even in discussion of concepts among other policymakers, Lord Erskine didn't mind as long as the right Chiss-born representatives ascended to raise all their issues and queries, and to add further layers of assurance for their sake, all such frontier-matters had a chance of being discussed at the highest rung on the Empire's political ladder. The benefits (or at least they had in Barran's mind at the time) far outweighed the risks, potentially reversing years of bad blood between the Chiss and the Empire, but if it was to be seen as a step too far by the majority of the Grand Assembly, the old Woad would let wisdom keep him from pushing too hard against their final decision, knowing when to keep from overreaching in what was a favourable position already.

'Secondly, if it gives voice to former resentments, the worst it does is merely add to our list of problems we need to fix.... And for the sake of the Norisian Chiss in particular, there is already much and more that we should be doing in the spirit of reconciliation, but with that being said, nothing a devoted government can't handle.... Such harmony was achieved before, thus it cannot be denied that such wonders can be achieved again - but with lasting, Imperial finality this time.'

 

[Argilac]

OUTFIT: x
TAG: Kallirróē Vrenth | Nuruodo'kal'brast | Odin | Open
PROXIMITY: DECEASED Aron Gowrie | Cataca Atra | Melvain Braxis | Ryihor Thave
LOADOUT: in bio

GIFTS OF OUR FATHER

NORIS, CHISS SPACE, THE UNKNOWN REGION, SUMMER 879 ABY​

The further we go, the clearer it becomes that what lurks amongst the vestiges of once thriving civilization isn't a mortal threat, but the ghosts of those whose deaths are yet to be avenged. Grim are their souls, grimacing in agony, screeching, yearning for our attention. It is still unclear whether the remains of the Maws, or the abomination they created on these desolate ruins, are still lurking around. What I know is that they are not in a striking distance as for now. My Errant, Odin, whispered to me a question, a hint of distress in his voice. I couldn't blame him, it's his first mission after all. Moreover, he's gifted in the force, way more than me, and even I can sense the atrocious atmosphere the force is plaguing us with.

"Stay close, Odin. Can you sense it? The disturbance in the force?"​

Along the way, a couple of Imperial insignias were scattered amongst the defiled road. None of which I am familiar with, yet delivering them home for a proper burial is an honor that is bestowed upon me. Between the insignias, horrific sights, and screams of plights, we eventually reached the former military base. What was once a mighty base of operation of our Chiss allies, is now an abandoned wreck. The smells are horrible, the horror keeps upping their ante. Yet, nothing ever transpires, at least not at the moment.

Carefully, I led the team to enter the compound. A couple of traps were set in the premise, but nothing too fancy, nothing that I can't get rid off. While my cohorts extracted the heirlooms they came for, I tried to establish contact with other units that also explored the frontier. Hunting on several separate units might be more efficient, but the Empire is stronger when we are a united front.

<This is Argilac of Hackapel One, coming in. We are at District 11, currently collecting our targets. Will be done in 5 minutes. Requesting unit merge. Over.>​

Just as the call has been sent, a bristling sound can be heard from the outside of the building. Feth, what is it right now? I grabbed my Great Lightsaber, igniting a bright white light. What's exactly outside of the building, we'll never know, not until it is too late. What we know is, we got to be prepared for the worst case scenario

"Odin, to my side! Pick up the pace, we might need to fight our way out!"​

​

​

 

[Ryihor Thave]

Search & Rescue Unit
The Tionese Despot-in-Exile
[E-3] Corporal | [Z] Zelta Storm Commando Squad |
TAGS: [OPEN] | Argilac

​

_ Ground Zero, Noris, Chiss Space _

The tired inhales and exhales of Ryihor took over as he came to a running halt. He scowled softly before looking around...nothing, he split up from his squad some time ago with the hopes of finding the lost community but his hopes were declining with every minute. He let out a soft sigh before his module let out a loud beep noise, his eyes widening as he stared down; the ASE-X Probe Unit was broadcasting a location but more importantly footage in real-time, squinting his eyes the footage showcased something...someone, blue, Chiss? He closed his module before taking off again.

With his adrenaline pumping he was able to make it to the location in a few minutes. It was a house, and outside the house was the probe unit which floated and buzzed rapidly, Ryihor slowly approached the house - shoving the Unit out of the way before knocking on the door to no response, he didn't wish to frighten the individuals.

<<"Hello...I know you're in there, I know you're scared - and I know you understand me. Please..Come out, we're here to rescue you.">> Ryihor exclaimed in Sy Bisti, a language utilized in the Outer-Rim and Unknown Regions, one which some Chiss Spoke.

Some moments passed before the individual exited, it was a teenager; the boy releasing a hostile hiss as Ryihor's eyes widened under the helmet he wore, he didn't mean any harm so he wanted to get that across as he removed the helmet to reveal his Human Face. <<"Look, friend, just alike...Come, come.">> Ryihor stated, reaching into his bandolier pocket and tossing a food-ration to the Chiss feet.

<<"Empire - I hear tales about Empire. Some good, most bad.">> The boy replied in Sy Bisti, not much of a talker it seemed, his frail frame now relaxed as he slowly munched on the ration. Ryihor just looked shocked, how he survived on his own for so long was his top question but then again he was a Chiss, an intelligent species who matured fast.

The duo stood in silence before a scrambling broadcast was played from the Probe Unit: "Argilac . . . Wz-zzz-District--ZZZ...ZZZZ...Unit Merge. Over." Ryihor focus now on the probe, unit merge, a need for help? simple orders, he did know this Argilac individual as an Imperial Knight, a group inside the Empire which intrigued him for their principled views.

<<"Alright kid, up with me. ISC-0023 Reporting In, one survivor found, um - male, teenager. Also there's some poor radio reception; Argilac of Hackapel One...I'm free to converge if needed, over.">> He broadcasted into the Imperial Network, unaware of the potential situation which was going on.

The boy stood and followed as Ryihor began to walk away, quite surprising considering the Chiss-Imperial Relations though the reason he accepted the help of this Imperial could've been because of a lack of social-interaction for so long, it didn't matter at the end of the day. He was heading back to his squad, and as for the probe - it was sent off once more to scout for survivors. Something was itching in the back of Ryihor's mind, although this Chiss was quite neutral and friendly he assumed that some wouldn't be nearly as cordial and would be potentially hostile and that is a recipe for disaster.
​

 

[FN-999]

DECEASED Erskine Barran | Marcus Bastion | etc.
​

'Let me send you a little data, though I'll be making sure to project what I'm sending for the benefit of the Assembly.... An' what I'm sending are particulars, demographics and every relevant law-code we have pertaining to the Chiss Repatriation Plan - the great idea, so to speak.'

Lamaty looked on attentively as the Lord-Regent laid out his proposal.
​

There was little in terms of concrete policy, but nonetheless the Lord-Regent’s positive sentiment was most certainly a step up from the hostility of the post-Nirauan tribunals. The time for persecution had long passed, so the Chiss doctor could reasonably assume that what came next would be better.

The conversation soon shifted back to the Baron as the Lord-Regent presented the idea of planting advisors in Noris. It was a fairly simple question, and Nines had no issue answering it.

“I would not be opposed to the deployment of advisors in Noris as long as it does not greatly weaken the defense of any other sectors."

The Baron and his therapist then took their seats, waiting patiently as others rose to speak.

Next up was Moff Marcus Bastion, a man highly regarded for his efficiency and efficacy. The Baron listened carefully as he spoke, the Moff lending his support to the policies of the Lord-Regent.

"The good Baron is right, rebellion will be feuled by guerella warfare and partisan forces. I have made my career hunting down such insurgencies, his suggestions of reinforcing civilian centers holds merit. However I would also emphasise that preventing these rebel factions from unifying into an Alliance would also be key. Our history is full of the failure of Empires at the hands of a Unified Rebellion. Without unity Guerillas may be surrounded and eliminated as necessary. With allies they have resources, trade routes. At best stamping out rebellions becomes a game of holo-wacka mole. At worst rebellion can turn into revolution.

At the mention of his title, the Baron’s thoughts paused. The Moff had made a good point, one that Nines himself was neglected - as much as the threat from the Unknown Regions needed a military response, there was also a political element to it. While the current cells of rebellion were disunited and disorganized, a united rebellion with charismatic leadership and backing from foreign powers such as the Galactic Alliance could potentially pull entire sectors out of the Empire’s grasp.

“I agree with Moff Bastion’s frank assessment of the situation at hand.” stated the Baron, rising up once more to speak. “Once rebel cells unite, they become infinitely harder to deal with, as our predecessors learned the hard way centuries ago. As a military man and still very new to ennoblement, I am afraid I lack the political expertise to provide concrete political strategies to defeat insurrection. However, I am willing to work with Moff Bastion and other experienced politicians to create a comprehensive solution to the problem of rebellion."

Having signaled his willingness to concede, the Baron returned to his seat.

"The Chiss could be of great value an asset, particularly in this time of uncertainty" Marcus acknowledge thoughtfully already seeing several angles to the new development. "Perhaps if as the Lord-Regent suggests an oath of fealty would dissuade those factions within our borders from becoming radical. If we as an Empire can demonstrate our good will towards the Chiss. It would be a useful counter point to any dissatisfied objections towards us. Which may very well be enough to prevent radicalization of those movements."

Lamaty was the next to speak up.

“I believe most of my species would accept an oath of fealty, Moff Bastion.” replied the Chiss doctor. “Especially if it guaranteed them citizenship rights. Many would be pleased to enjoy the protection of a stable government for the first time since the loss of our homeworld."

However, there was a catch.

“In return, my kin will undoubtedly demand cultural autonomy. For millennia, the Chiss have ruled themselves within tightly-knit families, each of which contains tens of thousands of souls bound not by blood, but by unyielding loyalty to each other. Each family excels in a particular branch of government, from intelligence to military affairs to psychological sciences. Together, they create an advanced, efficiently run society."

“The heads of the families will likely interpret any attempt to break up their power structures as a direct attack on them. However, they may be more receptive to Imperial rule if they are allowed to retain their family structures and the strict division of trades amongst them."

“Assuming, of course, that the heads pledge themselves to serve the Empire.”

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

6th Post

-A FALSE SPRING STORY-

SHIELD_ONE
LORD-REGENT OF THE EMPIRE
GRAND-TRIUMVIR OF THE TARKINIST ADMINISTRATION
GOVERNOR-CHIEFTAIN OF GALIDRAAN III

Tags: FN-999 Bex Tarring Marcus Bastion [OPEN FOR POLITICAL CHARACTERS]

FATE OF THE REALM VIII: IMPERIUM, FOR ALL ITS WORTH - PART SIX

CONFERENCE HALL, GRAND ASSEMBLY BUILDING,
RAVELIN, BASTION (SUMMER OF 879 ABY)

'I would not be opposed to the deployment of advisors in Noris as long as it does not greatly weaken the defense of any other sectors.'
​

Nodding affirmation, the Lord-Regent held to his cigarra-puffing silence in good faith, listening on intently as the Lord-Baron was when the ever-dutiful Moff made his own continuing statements, taking on every pertinent insight for as long the Assembly was to convene. A handy promise to make one's self, especially in the moment Nines responded,'I agree with Moff Bastion's frank assessment of the situation at hand.', rising up from his seat to conclude,'Once rebel cells unite, they become infinitely harder to deal with, as our predecessors learned the hard way centuries ago. As a military man and still very new to ennoblement, I am afraid I lack the political expertise to provide concrete political strategies to defeat insurrection. However, I am willing to work with Moff Bastion and other experienced politicians to create a comprehensive solution to the problem of rebellion.', in keeping with the decorum of honourable speakers among the Grand ensemble.

'I believe most of my species would accept an oath of fealty, Moff Bastion.'

This pairing certainly make the handy team.
I approve, though I dare say they'll pick better candidates yet for the frontier-worlds.
​

'Especially if it guaranteed them citizenship rights. Many would be pleased to enjoy the protection of a stable government for the first time since the loss of our homeworld.'

​

The old Woad agreed, but the Chiss wouldn't know exactly how much his ruler agreed until he fully revealed his caveats, beginning,'In return, my kin will undoubtedly demand cultural autonomy. For millennia, the Chiss have ruled themselves within tightly-knit families, each of which contains tens of thousands of souls bound not by blood, but by unyielding loyalty to each other. Each family excels in a particular branch of government, from intelligence to military affairs to psychological sciences. Together, they create an advanced, efficiently run society.', adding much to Barran's pleasant surprise (silent though it remained throughout) and likely to that of Lamaty's own in turn. After all, it was seldom the case that solutions were so easy to find, but in the breathing-room offered in the years after the war, the room to think had, in turn, become abundant enough that the Empire's politicians could once again allow themselves to think to former lateral extremes.

Even when the young Chiss was working his way towards the issues at hand, the old Woad was already envisioning the solutions, almost as if the problem was ironing itself out already (and before Erskine's very eyes like it was being painted, like a pastel picture within his thought-process) as Lamaty admitted,'The heads of the families will likely interpret any attempt to break up their power structures as a direct attack on them. However, they may be more receptive to Imperial rule if they are allowed to retain their family structures and the strict division of trades amongst them.', soon to be made quite apparent despite the ceremonious decorum everyone was stood on at the time. The similarities found resonating from the past, and in reference alone glowing like beacons at sea, would need to wait a little longer though, keeping to a patient silence that had held that long without interruption at least.

'Assuming, of course, that the heads pledge themselves to serve the Empire.'

Surmising correctly that little harm could come of holding that silence to the very last moment, as such courtesies had been afford the Lord-Regent after all - quite noteworthy on it's own as being anomalous for the nature of the discussions at hand.

'In answer to the Lord-Baron, these concerns are only natural, and in answer to the good Doctor here, I extend the same regards.... But with that being said, I still have faith we can assure autonomy and self-determination alike, for there is proof within the borders of the Galidraan system in particular - proof as to how multiple large tribal collectives can thrive as a sovereign state within the Imperial yolk.'

From the moment Willan Tal brought the Noble Exiles PMC into the picture, legitimizing their status as a conventional fighting force and member planet of the Imperial State of Galidraan henceforth, Erskine Barran had been more than ready to step up to the role in his fight homeward, much as the state's future Lord-Protector had in turn. It made it all the easier to convince the Woad of his people's place among Galidraan's oppressed classes and ethnicities, as the royalists had been every part as harsh with their northern counterparts as they had with the Goidelic tribes over the centuries, and with the Sith and the Fortans pushed out of Galidraan in the years following the Third Imperial Civil War, alternatives to yesteryear's oppressions could be found in uninterrupted earnest.

'And with that, more to go on than mere petty notions of,"Well it worked for us an' our Novanians, did it not?", rest assured.'

Alternatives of the likes the old man knew could be applied for the sake of the Chiss peoples.

'First off, student admissions should be opened on Galidraan I, Galidraan Station, III and IV to the frontier-Imperial caste, perhaps even on Yinchorr, Archais and Serenno if their own governing bodies see the matter as I do.... Encouraging admissions in political-sciences and governance, agriculture, humanitarian and battle-strategy, medicine and all that our military academies and universities have to offer; after all, its one thing to have the right people for the job, but with a small post-war pool of staffers and assistants, successors to choose from, our Chiss-born butterflies have no means to properly flap their wings.'

'And secondly, with thanks to the Lord-Baron's previous approval, we offer aid militarily, but indirectly.', the old Woad continued, still beholden to the PMC-mindset in the urge to send instructors for passive-associated conventional-warfare training, but still very much aware of the Empire's diminished fighting capabilities in post-war years. But with that, even as he puffed away with his cigar in search of the right wording in the poise of weighed words, Erskine was still very much conscious of preconceptions and assumptions alike as he resumed,'And with that, we let the Stormtrooper caste handle the risky fronts pertaining to the Galactic powers who remain, further-negating predicted misgivings against fealty - with luck.... Whilst we bring in elements of the smaller sovereign Imperial states, such as the aforementioned states of Serenno, Archais and Yinchorr as instructional helping-hands - such who would fight alongside the Chiss in times of crisis.', stubbing out the last remnants of his cigarra whilst he waited for the Assembly's response.

'It is possible to achieve this, as the Imperial State of Galidraan indeed earned their coin this way in the early days, back when we were just roving around as a PMC-merger.... Back in the days of Tal's Tigers.... And if it can be achieved on the shoe-string budgets of newly-made Imperial scions in war-time, then you can surely bet your bottom credit it can be achieved in this era of peace - tentative and limited though these days may be.'

 

[Marcus Bastion]

Tag: DECEASED Erskine Barran FN-999

Marcus listened intently as his observations were discussed and largely approved. He felt gratified that his opinion was valued such. Often relatively minor Moffs such as himself could be dismissed easily, it was relatively rare for him to have any direct power in matters such as these. Fort the most part Marcus accepted that as reality as to be too noticed on a political scale was perilous. Any student of history or fame knew that men who get put on pedalstels tend to get torn down.

"Such pennis are welcome as if made of gold" Marcus smiled at the phrasing "one can hardly hold the rhetoric of rebellion if they are offered representation in the government."

Marcus nodded at the Baron.

"I graciously accept the Barons diplomatic offer. I look forward to working with you on this Sir Baron. I believe we could work well together in the spirit of cooperation and co-ordination of our departments. With any luck the unrest will be minimal, but I am also confident in our ability to respond to any such crisis."

Marcus frowned as he considered the implications of a totally autonomous faction within the Empire. It had been tried before with planets and cultures within the empire having their own systems of government ranging from independent Warlord Vassals to direct governership by Moffs such as himself.

Truthfully such an autonomous independent and significant faction having their own seat at the table was a little troubling. Unfortunately the fact was the Empire had neither the resources, strength or inclination at this time to enforce their own ideals of law and order. The Chiss faction could prove vital in the coming days. Besides if they swore an oath of loyalty that same independent power could prove useful.

"I… cautiously agree with the statements and sentiments of allowing the Chiss their own cultural systems. As long as the oaths of fealty hold." Marcus acknowledged reluctantly. "We currently do not have the means to enforce our own systems of law and order even if we wanted to. Chiss soceity and culture runs efficiently enough that tearing it down would be a waste of time, resources and political capitol."

Marcus listened with interest at the Stewards own contributions to the subject.

"I agree that the idea's and ideals themselves are fine. Offering higher education increased a society's well fare as well as creating useful qualification from which the Empire could benefit." Marcus deliberated for a moment "I would also suggest that offering of such scholarships among those caste's who don't always have the opportunity would be another means of disrupting potential ill will towards the Empire."

"Between the administrative leave of the Chiss and this endeavour we have good political cover if we need it." Marcus thought of another angle as he discussed the issue "It would also give us a chance to ensure people are educated the right way… with support and loyalty to us- to the Empire. Such education creating an entire generation of loyal citizens."

"Having the semi-independent sovereign states and planets such as The Chiss, Serenno Archais and Yinchorr within our border contribute to our internal security would also be beneficial." Marcus thought tactically "It free's up our limited resources to our border as well as preventing sentiments that we have an intimidating presence. If they aren't our direct troops, we cannot be held directly responsible."

"I believe with prudent policies such as these our Empire's future are in safe and secure hands." Marcus stood up and offered his salutations. "Long Live The Empire!"

 

[Kastav Volff]

​

Location: Noris
Objective: Find Jalter
Tags: Closed

​

879 ABY

In all his time in the Kastav had never seen a battlefield like Noris. He was standing on the wreck of a walker, and as far as he could see, trenches, destroyed vehicle and empty armour, who's previous owners had been withered away by the elements or picked clean by animals. He had seen dead men before, he had killed as well but the calamitous scale of it was something to behold.

He had remembered seeing about the battle on the holonet as it raged on. Hell, they studied it at the academy but the only thing he could remember was the last image they got before the holofeed cut out and the planet went dark; half a dozen filthy Stormtroopers manning their positions as they sky fell down around them. It wasn't the stormtroopers facing their inevitable doom that bothered Kastav, it was in the sky of that image he thought he could make out a single burning TIE plummeting towards the ground. He couldn't help but wonder if it was his brother.

Kastav stepped off the walker and clambered his way into one of many trenches, it was filled with dead stormtroopers, often covered by the bones and armour of Mawite attackers. It was easy to presume the men died where they stood, killed by the infinite wave of mawite bodies piling on top of them. These men would be found and buried eventually but not by Kastav, he was here for only one man. He pulled out a tracking fob, not honed into a person but the last transmission from his brother before he went dark, the steely words of an Imperial pilot who knew he was about to die, "Ave Rurik..." Kastav said, mimicking the words of Jalter. He had been out now for two days and he was getting close.

It was not lost on the ISB agent that he shouldn't have gone out alone, most of the task force on the world was at the city conducting a coordinated and methodical search while Kastav had slinked out of sight and into the trenches and muddy plains around FOB Belisarius. This needed attending to first though. There were also always rumours that a few of the Brotherhood's savages had survived, hiding in the deepest trenches and subsisting off of the dead bodies and unsuspecting scavengers. But that's all they were, rumours, and Kastav believed in solid intelligence and not campfire stories told by the soldiers to scare their new recruits. He did however keep his blaster pistol close.

As he continued to tread down the muddy trench paste more corpses the tracking fob began beeping louder and louder. Eventually he walked up onto the trenches firing step and peered over at the battlefield ahead and that's when he saw it, sticking out of the ground, a black sheet, the shape of the solar panels from a TIE bomber. The soul searching and moping that had occupied his mind for the past few days evaporated as he quickly clambered up the trench and ran straight towards it. When he got round he circled it slowly. It was the right solar panel, seemingly it had been blown off from the rest of it's craft. As he walked around it he spotted the unmistakable white stripe of Darkstar Squadron. He could still remember when Jalter showed off his bomber to him, he said they painted it on to show the rest of the pilots that they were the best. Kastav was 12 at the time and he wanted nothing more than to fly with his brother. How well that turned out.

The Axxilan cautiously approached the panel, gently pressing his hand on the white stripe and following it down. It had to be him, this had to be where he was shot down, he just needed to follow the trail of Bomber debris. Kastav looked around, it would be a near impossible task to make out one piece of wreckage from another on the battlefield.

"Wing blown off... laser cannon should've been next to fall..." he said to himself. In his head he was going over his time in flight academy, pouring over his memory on the endless lessons on the TIE bomber's schematics. "Armament duplicator." he said, knowing that high tech component would be the only thing that would distinguish the laser cannon from any other wreck. Almost sunk in the mud about eighty meters away it sat and Kastav ran over to it. "Struts next..." he said softly, his head scanning every direction for the next piece of the TIE bomber. This process would go on for another five hours as Kastav struggled to remember the Mauler's schematics, finding piece after piece, plotting out the trajectory of where Jalter's bomber fell.

It was starting to get dark and Kastav had not yet eaten or found a place to hole up for the night but he was so close now, he could feel it. "Droidbrain and cockpit next... where even is it." he said walking around, scanning and studying every single piece of wreckage on the horizon. He was looking so far ahead, he had neglected to watch his own surroundings Kastav tripped and was sent straight into the mud. Quickly he scrambled to his feet and looking down to the ground a metallic octagon lay, the viewport of a TIE Mauler. Looking around he began to see bits and pieces of the bomber's cockpit everywhere, the joystick smashed to many pieces about five feet away, the metal frame of the seat twisted and disfigures just behind it. This is where it struck the ground shattering into thousands of pieces. Kastav let a cheer, he had found it, days in the muddy trenches searching and he had found it.

As he stood there in his brief moment of triumph he spotted a round black object in the corner of his eye. He turned to look at it and walked over slowly. He knew exactly what it was, a TIE pilot helmet and though it was burnt and battered he could vaguely make out two white stripes running across it. He fell to his knees next to it, tears now streaming from his eyes. He knew Jalter had died but a small part of him had always hoped. When they announced the casualty list that small part chalked it up as an administrative mistake. Days later when an officer handed him Jalter's medals that little part still held out, they never managed to recover his remains. Even as he had been out searching for his body looking for closure that little part fought on, hoping that somehow he was out here surviving. Seeing the charred helmet of his brother, knowing he was truly dead?

It was like losing him all over again.

 

[DECEASED Aron Gowrie]

4th Post

-A FALSE SPRING STORY-

WILDCAT_ONE
TRIBAL-CHIEFTAIN OF AN-TUATHA
MAJOR-GENERAL OF WILDCAT DIVISION
SWORD OF THE VALKYRIES

Tags : Cataca Atra Melvain Braxis Argilac Bex Tarring

TRIBULATIONS OF THE WILDCATS VII: A DARKENED PLANET - PART 4

AID-SECTOR 1, EAST DISTRICT,
PRIMUS, NORIS (879 ABY)

'Milord, follow me.... We've found the burial site, but there's more to this picture. You'll see.'
​

The LIDAR installations worked, and the spares were already being routed to every other IMPAF detachment in the Primus city boundaries by the time Lord Byron returned to Lord Aron's position, and with the singular detonation heard just minutes before, the initiative shown over the comm-link between his subordinate officers would be left unchallenged. An admirable use of silence, and to let them get on with it in such a fashion would doubtlessly be appreciated, and for the sake of good haste as much as the reassurance of autonomy - the Wildcats would feel a sense of purpose once more.

'Oh, before I forget! That was strong initiative on the redistribution efforts by the way. After all, logistics an' supply-train matters were never exactly our strong-suit before. But still, I'm given hope to know we're still as adaptable as we were in war-time.... The Wildcats can find their way again.'

'Thank you.', Scott replied in visible melancholy, though it had been uttered after a long and thoughtful pause, granting surprisingly-weighted meaning to the simplest of two-word, two-syllable replies, seemingly disarmed by the latter parts of the Major-General's reassurances. Perhaps the Lord-Major's gratitude may have been somewhat more superficial in contrast, but the Kellas gladly offered another admirable use of his silence, nodding affirmation so Lord Byron could elaborate,'I know you've seen it, in all of us. No need to explain what that certain,"It", would be either, you know.... We have wars in the minds of all our subordinates, Milord. And if you really see it, then you'll know - "Adaptable", could very well be that one thing that keeps the Wildcats from - making unwise choices in life.', carrying enough implications in his statement that it forced Scott to change the subject immediately.

'Well.... I can honestly say this much, that wasn't anyone's idea of a brief distraction here, but on this one - you definitely started it.... I can't imagine you would ever want that reply to distract you, and especially not from what I'm about to report next.'

Again pausing, but for a longer duration than before, Lord Byron eventually lifted his head to catch the gaze of his commanding officer as he continued,'We found Karsh's remains, and tracked the helmets of his subordinates, even found the Embers' battle-standard wrapped around his abdominal armour-pieces, and all preserved by the cold.... But its not the how, why or who that troubles us - its the graves that rest fewer than four paces away from the Captain's own.', just as they began to pass down the adjoining alleyway to the courtyard where Remmel Karsh's armoured remains awaited. It was then that Scott calmly concluded,'We're almost there, just to the left here.... And now that you can see it with your own eyes, perhaps you can interpret the meaning of this - uncanny finding.', before pulling the sterilized pathologists' curtain to one side so Gowrie could step through first.

Alright then.... What - have - we - got - here?
Mandalorians, Scar Hounds, and officers of the Final Dawn.

These were champions of the Maw, and if Karsh is buried next to them-
​

'Oh.... I see how it is.'

Lighting a cigarra as his gaze found All-Heart's frozen remains, with the others following suit almost immediately after, the Kellas knelt to study the carefully-sown neck stitches of the departed hero as he remarked,'Though I believed that Clan Scott, of all people, would understand what this would mean.... Especially you, Major. What's the matter wae ye?', pausing only to carefully weigh the simplest, most-realistic of guesses under the circumstances. But in the approach to heavy-hitting subject matter, unwitting though it was, Lord Aron somehow knew subconsciously that his recall was treading dangerously close to matters his mind was correct to compartmentalise for so long, there were drains one can circle easily in wartime after all.

A fact of which was never lost on Gowrie - one among many.

'I mean, isn't it obvious? He went out fighting, but it appears he made a proud, stalwart show of it.... An' besides, Mawsworn warriors only ever offered reverent respect for those who - huh.... For those who earned their respect in combat.'

Everyone there was looking to the Kellas in these moments, clearly hearing what would only be confirmed by coroners in the following weeks of investigative tedium, subconsciously seeing the Krieg-Born Captain's demise through Gowrie's eyes as he continued,'Csaus.... Massoud.... Kaaaark, man. I thought those days died with last years of the Civil War - oddly relieving to be wrong though.', soon understood as Lord Aron sighed in a dumbstruck silence that struck his peers in turn. Wordless in their remembrance of a remarkable Sabretooth-Trooper, easily remembered by laymen and war-historians alike, and as they all silently removed their berets with heads bowed, laymen and war-historians alike would accept Karsh's name (and his endeavours-) among the likes of his heroic, warfighting contemporaries.

All would file out after their respects had been paid, granting tribute for a hero, staying resolutely still with heads bowed until the Kellas issued the last nod of affirmation. Then as soon as they made their short, walking transit to the nearest armoured command-vehicle, the long-expected confirmation of completed objectives came in through the comm-link, ringing proudly in the Woad-born veteran's voice as it dragged his peers away from the Melancholy that was besetting everyone by then.

<"Congratulations, gentlemen. Stand easy.">
<"Gowrie to Wildcat Two! Put me through to the Grand Assembly - lets make it official, shall we?">
<"Copy that, Wildcat One - pairing in three, two, one....">
​

The first face to be brought up on the screen of the vehicle's Holo-Terminal was none other than the Lord-Regent himself, not quite smirking again, (as he always would in the days of old) though not yet at least; but if anything could cheer the old Stormchaser's heart a little, then perhaps news of the successful beginnings of a happier Noris would suffice, even if only slightly. The remains, the banner and even the last comm-logs of the Embers had been retrieved, and with the safety procedures widening the Chiss' reach into Primus' western districts, every second wasted would become good news to bear to add to the already-growing list. For all they had achieved in one day, none among the Wildcats could deny there were other planets in need of their help, and time was of the essence - a commodity of which none could deny was worth more than it's weight in gold.

<"Good evening, Lord-Regent.... I hope I am not broadcasting at an unwelcome moment-">
<"-Not at all, Aron. We were on the verge of adjourning, as it just so happens.... Continue as intended.">

[EXIT THREAD]

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

7th Post

-A FALSE SPRING STORY-

SHIELD_ONE
LORD-REGENT OF THE EMPIRE
GRAND-TRIUMVIR OF THE TARKINIST ADMINISTRATION
GOVERNOR-CHIEFTAIN OF GALIDRAAN III

Tags: FN-999 Bex Tarring Marcus Bastion [OPEN FOR POLITICAL CHARACTERS]

FATE OF THE REALM VIII: IMPERIUM, FOR ALL ITS WORTH - PART SEVEN

CONFERENCE HALL, GRAND ASSEMBLY BUILDING,
RAVELIN, BASTION (SUMMER OF 879 ABY)

'Such pennies are welcome as if made of gold.'

This outing has gone more smoothly than I ever could have imagined.

'One can hardly hold the rhetoric of rebellion if they are offered representation in the government.'
​

As the Lord-Regent sat back in his seat with renewed comfort, sipping back on his coffee with a galvanised interest in the outcome of the meeting itself, he found himself glad for people like Moff and the Baron as the former properly replied,'I graciously accept the Barons diplomatic offer. I look forward to working with you on this Sir Baron. I believe we could work well together in the spirit of cooperation and co-ordination of our departments. With any luck the unrest will be minimal, but I am also confident in our ability to respond to any such crisis.', keeping with the dialogues between them as Nines and Marcus alike set a new political standard before Erskine's very eyes. It was a wonder to see such debating accord, especially in Galactic senatorial gatherings by that point in time, as not even the governments of their enemies could boast such civility in discourse in peace-time.

'I… cautiously agree with the statements and sentiments of allowing the Chiss their own cultural systems. As long as the oaths of fealty hold.'

And in the effort to err against looking their gift-horse in the mouth, Imperium's superstitious souls would retain no desire to jinx their collective good fortune - and certainly not for as long as the fractures, the burns and the scars were still healing.

'We currently do not have the means to enforce our own systems of law and order even if we wanted to. Chiss soceity and culture runs efficiently enough that tearing it down would be a waste of time, resources and political capitol.'

Addressing Barran this time, Bastion's gaze drew once more toward the High-Seat of the chamber, looking the Lord-Regent in the eye by the time he continued,'I agree that the idea's and ideals themselves are fine. Offering higher education increased a society's well fare as well as creating useful qualification from which the Empire could benefit.', rolling well with the tone and subject-matter as if to leave no doubts as to the extents of the discussion's unanimity. However, in this little encouragement another awaited, another helpful addition to the anomalously fortunate, and when Marcus suggested,'I would also suggest that offering of such scholarships among those caste's who don't always have the opportunity would be another means of disrupting potential ill will towards the Empire.', all would know it to be a perfect plan-augmentation already.

'Between the administrative leave of the Chiss and this endeavour we have good political cover if we need it.'

​

By that point, all were impressed by the smoothness of the discussions between the most-involved speakers that day, as there had always been some form of objection to something along the way, proving that taking enemies out of the equation grants more than enough freedom to speak in relaxed tones. It was obvious, even to Lord Erskine has he saw how everyone was leaning back with cigarras in hand, smiling for once in what felt like an age, as there were no such smiles and grins all-round in Barran's first political outings.

Not even across the lips of the vindicated - as was the norm for embattled factions in 863 ABY.

'It would also give us a chance to ensure people are educated the right way… with support and loyalty to us- to the Empire. Such education creating an entire generation of loyal citizens.'

​

Times were changing, and in their prudence were laying the foundations for societies that could survive any factional or dynastic collapse, societies that could last long enough to join a defiant Imperial uprising again someday. Time was against the realm, and with that bloody writing on the wall that none could deny by the turning of yet-another troubling latter-half decade of the century, the 870s had looked every part as troubling in it's third year as the 860s had before it; and no matter which decade or which generation would suffer most, regardless of riches or station, all knew that only a fool could hope for a clean run at the last twenty years unbroken. But it wouldn't stop the wise from trying to delay a complete collapse, buying at least some time for the citizens of Imperium, as any honourable leader would in their stead, even if the worst somehow came to pass sooner than expected.

'Having the semi-independent sovereign states and planets such as The Chiss, Serenno Archais and Yinchorr within our border contribute to our internal security would also be beneficial.'

It was this that was hanging over everyone's head, but to see such unity in an Imperial assembly's collective in such times, as much as it pained the old Woad to see it, was giving him hope at least that the right wisdom would be passed down to those who would rise again someday. After all, seeing Barons, Regents and Moffs think of their citizenry as valued assets was a true rarity with history in mind, and in their slow and steady crawl toward Constitutional Imperium, at least some of the traumatised masses would find a means to rule their own at the highest of standards in the absence of Imperators, Emperors and Regents. It was in this consideration-process, listening to Bastion's unexpectedly succinct understanding of such a future, that Barran knew his colleague thought it better to leave a frontier in better condition than the frontier one sees in a first-contact deployment.

'It free's up our limited resources to our border as well as preventing sentiments that we have an intimidating presence. If they aren't our direct troops, we cannot be held directly responsible.'

Nor can the frontiers we endorse, a win-win for everyone.
This one gets it, he sees the way the tide is turning.

An' still, he wishes to leave something of worth behind.... Just like the Baron.
​

Even in his ending statements, there was a pride in the way the Moff spoke, that which the Empire itself was hoped to feel before the end, a glimmer of wonder in the last restoration before their foes could tear it all asunder around them. Seen resonating with a dignity of the likes the Galaxy had not known for years, Bastion concluded,'I believe with prudent policies such as these our Empire's future are in safe and secure hands.', holding his head high in what would be viewed as an exemplary example of statesmanship, a strong reminder of the Assembly's true potential. Sadly destined to be nought but an ember of brilliance in the last years of true Imperium, but if the Empire's leadership array were to think laterally enough, that something of worth could still be left behind for the Imperial Uprisings of the future.

An instructional codex of sorts, one such that could teach the next generations what real, true Imperium looked like.

I think its time to bring Bastion into the inner-circle.
He's earned it by now, an' there's no two doubts about it.
​

'Long Live The Empire!'

​

The entire Assembly stood to answer in kind, and to the extent that even Lord Erskine himself arose to answer in loud enthusiasm, appreciating the effect Marcus was having on the majority as he roared out,'AVE RUUUUUUUURIIIIIIIIIIIIK!!!!', to work the room into a cheering frenzy. Offering fist-over-heart salute in full fervour to a man who had truly earned his respect, as he had for the Baron years before on the battlefield, an offer of perfect alignment between state and military collectives would be made and accepted within moments, and all the other statesmen in attendance would be there to see and hear it. Something of a political alliance was forming, and perhaps with it, the makings of the last leaders ever to serve a Fel Imperium.

However, in the following moments alone, reasons in abundance would be found to continue the good fight in their honour, and with many more to do so for the sake of the realm that hung by a thread.

'My thanks to the right-honourable Moff, an' I mean these thanks with sincerity... My thanks would also be extended to the Lord Baron an' Doctor Lamaty for bringing life and much-needed insight to the Assembly - the rarest unanimity of the likes the Empire never knew could be achieved before now. Food for thought.... Something of which we all should explore further.'

The old Woad knew adjournment was approaching, but in understanding that this day would have been much more difficult without them, he made special effort to conclude,'It must be quite apparent by now, you can see I wish very much to see your like again in these Halls of Imperium, as it would appear the realm needs you all more than ever. They need the people I see standing before me - minds who truly want the best for their people.', as an official seal of approval that none in the realm could mistake for anything less. After all, if this experience was to be repeated, then a stated need would certainly have weight - especially in the closing statements of a Grand Assembly conference of the sort.

<"INCOMING TRANSMISSION">​

'Patch 'im through, I get the feeling I know who it is on the other end.'

<"Good evening, Lord-Regent.... I hope I am not broadcasting at an unwelcome moment-">
​

'-Not at all, Aron. We were on the verge of adjourning, as it just so happens.... By all means, continue as intended.'

​

The Holographic form of Lord Aron Gowrie then materialised at the Galidranni podium, right next to Major-General Bex Tarring, and all turned to see the same sort of baggy-eyed gaze that Barran himself carried around from sunrise to sunset, and beyond that on markedly-more difficult days in his life as a leader. Civilians would see the two Goidels and think it to be the look of extreme war-weariness, though with the soldiers and officers who survived the recent war, they all knew it to be something else entirely, as none who live to see such horrors could ever be fooled of war's true cost in the mind. The sort that chipped away little pieces of their soul in their many fights for survival, reminding them endlessly of those they lost, and worst of all - recalls of the demise of everyone they knew before.

Not much remained of Irveric Tavlar's New Imperial Order, with much the same being said of Rurik Fel's Galactic Empire, and in the eyes of Lord Erskine and Aron Gowrie alike, not much remained of the faction they joined in 863 ABY. Not many of their friends', their rivals' nor even their political leaders remained to stand with them then, and despite the discord and the competition between them, neither Goidel would deny the Empire felt quite empty without them.

<"My thanks, Lord Regent.... Now, as for the nature of my correspondence, it is with solemnity and respect that I announce the completion of our mission-parameters here on Noris. The remains of the Embers, along with their battle-standard - have been recovered successfully..... We're bringing our heroes home, Milord. And request that the last transports to Primus be permitted transit to their home in turn.">
​

'Consider it done, General.... Ave Rurik!'

<"Ave Imperium!">

[EXIT THREAD]

 

[Argilac]

OUTFIT: x
PROXIMITY: DECEASED Aron Gowrie | Cataca Atra | Melvain Braxis
LOADOUT: in bio

GIFTS OF OUR FATHER

NORIS, CHISS SPACE, THE UNKNOWN REGION, SUMMER 879 ABY​

Nothing. At least not for now, nothing is looking to make their way inside. The team has made considerable progress, recovering the target heirlooms, from antique weaponry to medals of honor, while the Stormtroopers of Hackapel One platoon are identifying and covering a few of our comrades that have fallen in this building, in the last battle here. This is more personal to them than it is to me. Most of the troopers know someone who was assigned, and left to their fate on Noris. It has to be horrible, the feeling of uncertainty, not knowing if their friends survived the battle, or more accurately, how they died. At the very least, they are getting their closure today. That's why we are launching expeditions on these systems. These heroes of the Empire deserve to be remembered by their brethren for their valiant sacrifice, not left untended like a carcass of a wild animal.

"Report, Lord-Knight, we have covered the gallant heroes of the Empire, and recovered the insignias left."​

Beneath the Stormtrooper helmet of this one distinguished member of the platoon, a 2nd Lieutenant, is a look of pride, sorrow, and relief. It's clear that he knows at least one of the deceased we found here.

"Tell me, Lieutenant, did you lose anyone here?"

"An uncle. He was a Storm Commando, 7th Company..."​

He leaned his head in the direction of one of the covered bodies. A Storm Commando, left in the abandoned building, most likely dies defending it from the Mawites. He and his unit must've been sent to recapture the building, a success judging from the lack of a Maw body in here. Karkin' Maws.

"He died an honorable death, Lieutenant."​

As the remaining members of the team completed their task and gathered around the covered bodies of our heroes, I took the moment to rally the team and prepare for evacuation.

"RIGHT HERE, lies the bodies of the ones who were left, the ones who died defending our land, our allies, our family and friends, our honors, and our GLORIOUS EMPIRE. And so it goes. The cycle of life, of war, triumph, struggle. Death. Lest us honor the sacrifice of the one we lost, and carry on our back, the BURDEN and RESPONSIBILITY, the ideals of the Empire; Unity, Equity, Loyalty. May we walk out here with hearts full of DEVOTION, so that one day our kids, and their kids, and their grandkids, will live in a world of PURITY, TRANQUILITY, and ORDER, not one of chaos and decadence."​

And so we step out of the building, with the honor of our fallen brethren, more ardent than ever. Still nothing. And the disturbance of the force is just gone like that. The creepy atmosphere, whispers of the dead, gone. That's the power of remembrance.

[EXIT THREAD]​

​

​