Faction Dark Empire | Convention at Carlac

[DARKCOM]

​

In the frost covered tundra of Carlac, amidst the ruin of Citadel Caelitus, the Imperial Remnants brought together by Ignacious Korvan , gathered under one sky. Clad in polished armor adorned with the proud insignias of the Iron Sun, they stood as a solemn testament to a bygone era, their unwavering loyalty to the Empire-That-Was still simmered within their hearts. TIE fighters flew proudly in blatant parade, screaming across the sky above the gathering rank and file Imperial forces. Yet, amidst the stoic silence that enveloped their ranks as they stood rank-in-file, whispers of doubt and uncertainty danced like shadows across the icy plain. The memory of Tython lingered, a bitter reminder of the Brotherhood's greatest threat and the ultimate sacrifice of Emperor Rurik Fel . It was a wound that ran deep, a scar upon the collective consciousness of the Imperial Remnant as they pushed on, soon after plunged back into shadow games with that of the Alliance, their titanic rival and part-time ally.

But as the winds of Carlac howled mournfully through the crumbling ruins of Citadel Caelitus, a new presence emerged—a primal force that seemed to defy comprehension. The Scar Hounds, with their fierce demeanor and savage visages, led the charge, the rest of their Mawite allies at their side. The arrival of the Mawites sent ripples of unease through the ranks of the Imperial Remnant. These enigmatic warriors, steeped in dark mysticism and esoteric beliefs, inspired both fascination and apprehension among their newfound allies. The Imperials, who had long prided themselves on their disciplined ranks and unwavering devotion to order, found themselves drawn to the Mawites' primal fervor after so long separated from their glorious empire—a stark contrast to their own rigid adherence to tradition. Beyond the lingering animosity that simmered openly, there was a shared recognition among the attendees of the Convention—a realization that their individual grievances and reservations paled in comparison to the grander tapestry of destiny that lay before them.

For the Imperials, the allure of revenge against the Galactic Alliance and the recapturing of the DREAM proved irresistible. Here was a chance to reclaim their lost glory, to forge a new empire. Holoreels ran on repeat, their messages all too clear under the guidance of what-remained among the Remnant's great propaganda machine. And for the Mawites, the Imperials represented not just an opportunity for conquest, but a chance to bring about the Great Galactic Rebirth—the realization of their vision of a galaxy purged of weakness and reborn in the embrace of the strong. It was this mutual recognition of shared goals and complementary strengths that served as the catalyst for their unlikely alliance. A well calculated play over a year in the making, slowly but surely gathering those who were disenfranchised and willing, those who could be sold to the idea of the Dark Empire. Sold to their emotions. Sold to the Dark Side.

Under the subtle guidance of the Dark Lord and his faithful among the Church of the Dark Side, master manipulators one in all, the disparate factions of the Convention found common ground—a shared vision of a new empire forged from the ashes of the old, where the ideals of the past would be supplanted by the boundless potential of the future. Holographic images began portraying the uniform image of what-would be, a unified force under one banner and idea.

And as the Convention was poised to begin, the Imperials and Mawites stood side by side, their differences set aside in pursuit of a greater cause. Together, they had become something more than the sum of their parts—a new faction, born from the crucible of conflict and united in their determination to reshape the galaxy in their image.

OBJECTIVE ONE: You and countless others, among both Imperial and Mawite numbers alike, have been tasked with attending the Carlaci Convention, a gathering of various factions and entities convened by the mysterious benefactor of Ignacious Korvan who is poised to reveal himself to the galaxy at large in a grand display said to usher in a NEW ERA. Engage with representatives from different factions, or eavesdrop on conversations, gather information, and uncover secrets that may prove useful in furthering your own goals. Be wary of rival factions and potential betrayals lurking within the shadows. Keep a close eye on your allies and enemies alike, and be prepared to adapt your strategies in response to shifting alliances and unforeseen challenges. As the convention goes on, parades of Imperial glory halt and all gather forth to hear the word of the benefactor, don't miss it.

OBJECTIVE TWO: Infiltrate the Carlaci Convention as representatives of the Imperial Remnant, gathering Moffs and Imperial Warlords under the guise of forging alliances with the emerging Dark Empire. At the command of the newly appointed, IMPERIAL DESPOT Ignacious Korvan , identify dissenters who refuse to align with the vision of Darth Solipsis , and covertly eliminate them through either lethal gas or targeted assassination or by other means. Those who cannot be swayed to embrace the new Empire must be swiftly and decisively removed to ensure the unchallenged dominance of the Sith'ari and the Dark Empire over the remnants of the old regime. Success in this mission will solidify our faction's power and eliminate potential threats to our ascendance in the galactic hierarchy.

OBJECTIVE THREE: Bring Your Own Objective, post what you want with your character and have fun.









​

​

 

[Ignacious Korvan]

The Imperial Despot​

Location: Carlac
Objective: I - Convention at Carlac
Tags: [OPEN]

The bitter cold bit at whatever exposed flesh there was to be found. For Korvan, that remained his cheeks, and the very base of his forehead. An Imperial cap adorned his head, with a thick fur-lined coat draped over his form. His white uniform was contrasted by the sable-black armor of his bodyguard - the infamous Death Troopers of Special Task Force 110. Previously, they served under the banner of the New Imperial Order - adherents to a cause of idealism and hope. But upon their ascension into their current role, their minds had been conditioned to place loyalty to their patron, and his safety, as the highest of priorities. A dozen of such troopers formed a loose perimeter around him, with other units of twelve scattered throughout the assembly area. It was a rare sight indeed to see the Death Mask deployed in force, especially so for multiple units to be found in the same general location. They were positioned at the base of the tower of Darth Caelitus, near the central dais where their benefactor would soon address all of those assembled.

The Death Mask’s presence, as well as that of the Imperial Despot himself, highlighted the importance and the danger of this event. Up until this point, Korvan had been the face of the unification of these Imperial Remnants - the beacon of hope amidst the chaos of the void. But today, all assembled here would learn who their true master was. Ignacious had already taken preemptive steps to weed out those who he felt would overtly challenge his authority, or prove to be malcontents from the beginning. But today would be a true test of the sway he held over those under his command. In many ways, this day would prove to be a demarcation for everyone - a point of no return once crossed.

The weight of the moment weighed heavily upon the Despot, but his stature remained ever resolute as the snow drifts blew across the terrain. This was the moment he had worked for; the moment he was bred for.

This was the moment that would forever define him.

 

[Aldo Garrick]

​

​

Aldo Garrick moved through the dimly lit corridors of the Citadel Caelitus with an air of silent determination. Once a proud admiral of the Neo-Imperial Final Dawn, his allegiance had shifted long ago to a darker, more insidious power—the Church of the Dark Side. Rumors of his demise during the Second Great Hyperspace War had circulated throughout the galaxy, but the truth was far more sinister. Brought back from death's embrace by the unholy powers of the Dark Side, Aldo existed now as little more than a revenant, his once-keen mind clouded by the whispers of the abyss. A horrifying existence caused by the Galactic Alliance's very own Revenant Squadron.

As he navigated the labyrinthine halls of the convention, Aldo's hollow gaze swept over the gathered throngs. Such a sight filled him with pride, his life's work wrapped up in this most auspicious day. Anticipation surged within his decrepit body, these were the remnants of the old regime, relics of a bygone era whose loyalty to the Dark Empire was far from assured. With a chilling resolve, Aldo made it his mission to see to it that the Dark Lord's plans for integration were not disrupted. One by one, they would identify those who would refuse to bend the knee to the Sith'ari, their protests falling on deaf ears as they were laid to rest in a shallow, pompous grave.

No longer in tattered robes that billowed around him like the specter of death itself, Aldo entered the meeting chamber where the Imperial Remnant warlords had gathered, fresh in new attire fitting of one brought up in the Dark Empire. His presence, marked by the eerie stillness that seemed to emanate from his half-dead form, sent shivers down the spines of those in attendance and as he approached the assembled group, Aldo's hollow gaze swept over them with a silent intensity. With a voice like gravel scraping against stone, Aldo began to address the warlords, his words carrying the weight of ages past and the chill of the grave. "My comrades," he intoned, his tone laced with a subtle undercurrent of menace, "we stand on the precipice of a new era, one where a New Empire shall rise triumphant."

 

[Max Sinn]

March of the Krath​

Tags: Open

​

A dozen soldiers in black Mandalorian crusader armor stepped off a lander that had come down from a very battered victory class star destroyer with no markings. Both the Star destroyer and Lander had seen better days and all of it's markings had been removed to keep it disguised from the various other faction in Galaxy in the Galaxy that would hunt them if they knew a remnant of their existence was possible. Emblazoned on the Pauldrons of the armor in gold were the symbol of the Maw and the Krath.

A group aligned with Maw that was thought to have died out after the second battle of Empress Teta where their leader was presumed dead. Crushed under the rumble of the Tetan Imperial Palace by the Jedi and Alliance forces. In truth the Krath had done what it always did when defeated slinked back into he shadows and pulled strings on there puppets and spies hidden in various other factions through out the Galaxy trying to hedge their bets and look for the right moment to strike.

With in the Krath there were currently four leaders, but only one had arrived here on Carlaci. The dozen soldiers formed into two lines and spread one group to each side to create an opening. Then down the ramp walked a short hair blonde woman in a black uniform naval uniform. She wore no bars to signify rank or station, but long ago well before the iron age of Imperials she had earned the rank of Admiral. Long before the current iteration of Imperials she had even mutinied against a one-time Emperor.

It had been a long time since Admiral Sinn had walked with the Imperials. One time warlord of Balmorra after she had turned against the empire so long ago later conscripted into the Tetan Defense fleet. Later defecting with the Krath into the unknown regions to ally with the Maw for the freedom of Empress Teta alongside the then Empress of Teta Dyans Keto .

Since the fall of the Maw Max had been running operations in the former Maw Territories for the Krath. Trying to conscript as many former Maw allegiants into what was being called the silver crusade as the other three leaders had been running there operations in other regions of the Galaxy to the same ends to rebuild the Krath so they might take back their shining Jewel of Empress Teta once more. Sinn had heard of the summons to Carlaci and since she was the one whose operations needed less secrecy; she was the one chosen to arrive.

She made her way down the ramp to the gathering of Maw and imperial for this conference. Her hands pressed behind her back and her chin up. Her guards standing in position at the end of the lander as she passed by each of them. A kid who grew up wealthy from Balmorra joined COMPNOR from an early age then transitioned into a communications officer in the Navy to rise to Admiral only to turn her back on it and go rogue for awhile her she was home again back where she started from though different now her Galactic Empire long dead. She found herself melding into the crowd of the forces gathered.

 

[Ibaris Varanin]

A NEXUS OF LEGACIES
CARLAC ➝ CITADEL CAELITUS ➝ OUTSIDE
Ignacious Korvan • OPEN

​

Ibaris Varanin, Consecrai, had only the vaguest intangible glimmers of memories of the Sith-Imperial rule of her mother, the once-Empress Desmius of the Sith Empire, Ashin Varanin; she had been so small when the subordinates of the Empress had found her. A baby, then a wee tot. Her earliest concrete memories, rather, were of her former home on Annaj, and the Fringe Confederation that enveloped it. But even after learning of that Imperial period when she had managed to summon any curiosity at all about her parents’ past lives - in both senses of the phrase - she had been removed from indulging the questions she might have had about it by an all-consuming melange of grief, despair, and complex anger.

A deep, full, decades-old well, the foundation of which was solidification of various foul-remembered instances from her younger years, catalysed by that harrowing collection of days. Stoked further by time and the Path. She was up front, standing in a loose collection of unfamiliar persons backdropping the Imperial Despot, watching the gathering of Imperial, Mawite, and other groups on this frigid world from this vantage point; the frigid environment of Carlac and the order with which the many came together here were a stark contrast to the humid climate and wild conflict she had recently been drawn into at Onderon. It had had been a small number of days since, and as yet, she had no known direct link to any person or group present and could do little more than engage in useless speculation about the people around her; given this, it was little surprise that the mostly-Echani woman's thoughts turned to the brief bloom of questions she once had, and mulled over whether any measure of her earliest days in her parents’ lives had looked like this. Whether the period of Desmius’ rule had been any different than that of her contemporaries then, and since. Outside of her personal darkness, this was the only tenuous connection to now.

Never mind that Ibaris by and large loathed the very thought of the woman. Being the daughter of such a distinct individual and an heir to that name was hardly a warm or easy thing, but she couldn’t deny that her mother was to some degree responsible for who and what she had become. Would she be this, be here, if Ashin was anyone other than precisely who she was? If Consecrai was anything other than what she was made to be?

Did it matter? She kept the sourness out of her expression, but only just, her mouth a thin, firm line, her eyes hard, her arms folded about her chest. Ibaris glanced skyward as TIE fighters screeched overhead, her chin lifting as her eyes did, exposing a sliver of her neck to the scrape of the unforgiving, howling icewinds that had begun to make a slowly reddening thing of her face and ears. No, she was here because she had chosen to listen to a new voice that had woven into the roil of her thoughts. One that knew how to pluck a tune she would pay attention to, provoking her hubris - was it really hubris if it wasn’t an overestimation of her abilities? - and promising to indulge it, amongst other honeyed words. That she could have a hand in carving out the path forward. All this for a small sacrifice of her own autonomy, and the bending of her pride?

So be it.

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

A luxury shuttle dropped from hyperspace on the system’s outskirts and dove toward Carlac. The defending starfighter screen quickly responded, deploying interceptors to eliminate the unwanted interloped. The Imperial pilots centred their targeting reticles on the sleek star yacht and were lining up for their attack run when a data burst came over the commlink from command - stand down; the shuttle was transmitting a valid clearance code.

The Fiduciary touched on a frozen landing pad adjacent to the main Imperial compound as a squadron of TIE fighters flew overhead in a display of military might. The shuttle’s boarding ramp descended in a shower of steam as a pair of obsidian battle droids emerged and took up sentry positions. A lone figure dressed in a dark, furred overcoat strode down the ramp and paused, slowly turning their head to take in the scenery.

To many, the sight of Imperial walkers, armoured Stormtroopers, Sith sorcerers and Mawite marauders signalled power, strength, or war. But the man standing on the frozen Carlac landing pad saw something else.

Aerarii Tithe saw profits.

A junior Imperial officer hurried from a nearby blastdoor to greet the Aargauun. Tithe presented a holochit to the officer, his token of safe passage to Carlac. The message had been succinct and intriguing, an invitation to attend a meeting on the frozen planet, which could be highly profitable, enough to draw the semi-retired banker away from the safety of the Core. Even as one of the wealthiest beings in the galaxy, Tithe always craved more.

His Imperial guide fell in beside Tithe as the pair crossed the landing pad and entered Citadel Caelitus. It was time to assess the potential return on investment.

 

[Nute Griimda]

CARLAC, PREFSBELT SECTOR, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

The luxury Sheathipede-class Type B shuttle maneuvered through the atmosphere of Carlac followed behind by a pair of modernized droid tri-fighters to provide escort despite the formidable TIE Defensive Screen currently operational around the planet. The droid navigator carefully transmitted the proper clearance codes to the Imperial Command Center and so was allowed to proceed down to the surface without any further delay.

Touching down gracefully on one of the icy landing platforms near the Imperial Fortifications, a quick glance out the window revealed the sheer might and firepower at the Empire's disposal, although their decision to align with the Brotherhood of the Maw's remnant seemed like a daring and almost foolish gamble at least to the business centered mind of the Gossam Auditor.

The shuttle's ramp would descend to allow Meii-Nu to exit accompanied by a squad of Gossam Commandos as they slowly walked across the frozen surface. Much like the Former Chancellor Tithe, an Imperial Officer would arrive to receive token required for safe passage and once that was given they were allowed to pass unhindered. This Dark Empire was intriguing to the Lords and Ladies of Galactic Commerce, each wanting their piece of the Imperial Pie before they even got established as a galactic superpower.

Meii-Nu would walk alongside the Imperial Officer as they crossed the landing platform, entering the Formidable Citadel Caelitus.

 

[Alicia Drey]

"We Sith are an unseen opposition. A phantom menace. Where the Sith once wore armor, we now wear cloaks. But the Force works through us all the more powerfully in our invisibility. For the present, the more covert we remain, the more influence we can have. Our revenge will be achieved not through subjugation but by contagion."
-- Darth Tenebrous.

Tags: Aerarii Tithe Nute Griimda

As the Fiduciary landed, and battle droids took their positions, Aerarri Tithe emerged from his vessel to be greeted by a cloaked hooded figure at the ships base. Beneath the cowl of her robe Darth Ayra looked up at the taller, larger man as he finished his arrival on Carlac. The former Chancellor of the Galactic Alliance; one time Vice-Chancellor; former representative to Aargau; a former Moff; Chair, Director, Treasurer, Consul and CEO to a multitude of entities spanning the Galaxy; and now on the board to the Trade Federation- Tithe was an adversary to any man or woman who dared to call him an enemy, and a great potential ally if he could be brought into the fold.

"Welcome to Carlac," Ayra greeted Aerrari as he came to a stop at the base of the ship. "The Empire is satiated by your decision to attend this gathering. Your expertise, knowledge and resources will be a welcomed addition to our cause. I am Darth Ayra." Ayra gestured her hand to a nearby protocol unit that was standing beside her. "This droid has been briefed with the location and time of a smaller, more subtle gathering above Obredaan. You have been invited to attend this meeting to discuss affairs that are of interest to the Empire in Alliance space. Invitations have been extended to your contacts in the Trade Federation, InterGalactic Banking Clan and Arbitage Capital. Please take this unit as a gift and use it to find your way after you are finished on Carlac."

~

As the Gossam Meii-Nu Suu arrived on Carlac a protocol unit belonging to Darth Ayra stood at the base of the Sheathipede. It's cheerful, prideful tones greeted the banker as he finished his arrival. "Greetings, honoured guest! It is the great honour of the Sith Lord Darth Ayra to welcome your attendance to this gathering on Carlac. I am MSE-PO and I have been given the honour of becoming your new protocol unit as a gracious gift from my former Master to you. Please take your time as I have been instructed to play a message from Lord Ayra upon your arrival."

MSE-PO then took out a holo and activated it. The holographic miniature form of a hooded Human female came to life on top of the droid's outstretched palm and begun to speak to the banker. "Welcome to Carlac, Meii-Nu Suu. I have been a long term admirer of the InterGalactic Banking Clan for many years, and have used the clan's expertise a number of times to conduct business across the Galaxy. It is my intention for the two of us to meet in a smaller gathering above Obredaan to attend a meeting of minds to discuss politics and business in the Galactic Alliance. You will find that this protocol unit possesses the star date, time and location of this gathering stored in it's memory. Please use it to make your way to the Obredaan system to meet with me in private."

The holographic form of Darth Ayra disappeared as the message finished playing. MSE-PO inquired: "How may I be of service, Master?"

 

[Maestus]

Carlac
Frozen Wasteland
Castle Caelitus

Having been on the planet a little while already, no shuttle arrived bearing the Twi'lek. Even if one had, it would pale in comparison to the grandeur of others, such as that of Aerarii Tithe . The man had more money than the gods and was never shy about putting his wealth on full display.

The Lethan stood near the landing pads, wrapped in a thick furred cloak to ward off the freezing winds. Hood pulled down upon her head, her Lekku hung just shy of her waist. The cold affected the Sith harshly, made her sluggish and slow. Her Lekku revealed this as they hung as if dead weight, instead of their normal writhing and twitching.

With each new arrival to the gathering, flame rimmed obsidian eyes took each in. She silently mused why they made the decision to step into the viper's nest. Willingly, or perhaps not so willingly, Maestus would bet dollars to donuts strings had been pulled. Desires ignited and greed tempted. That is, after all, what seemed to motivate most these days. She herself was not immune, after all. She had her hungers, her desires. As she studied the arrivals, seeing the Former Chancellor make an appearance, she did indeed start considering such hungers of her own.

Everyone had a price.

Allowing a slow smirk to cover her lips, a soft laugh escaped, and quickly carried away by the wind. She thought back, it seemed a distant memory now, a hazy, vague dream. The Maw had landed on a frozen planet, the name of which she long since forgot. Aerarii Tithe had been her target that day. Damn the man but he was crafty. She'd been unaccustomed to her prey being so cunning. She would not make the same mistake again.

Turning, her gaze drifted over the castle. The stronghold of the long dead Caelitus. An abject failure, in her mind. After all, he was dead, wasn't he? Maestus mused at the symbolism at play with the choice of location. Shrugging to herself, she could only laugh. It was a deep laugh, the kind one has when the jokes just keep going. Where you laugh so hard tears spring forth. Shaking her head in an attempt to shut her mind up, she took a few deep breaths and them sighed.

Today would prove interesting, of that she had no doubts. Such gatherings of the masses always were. A collection of egos and eccentricities on full display. Everyone had their own motives for assembling. For Maestus, her curiosity got the better of her. Since Darth Solipsis return, such an event was bound to happen. He was quite fond of grand displays such as this. She had no illusions it was he himself who orchestrated the gathering. Oh sure, the Despot, Ignacious Korvan had sounded the call. However, no one was more skilled at seeing her master's machinations than she. Or was it former master now? Another chuckle as she thought of his various apprentices and shadow hands.

What a glorious time to be alive.

As Alicia Drey spoke with Tithe, the Lethan Twi'lek looked off in the distance, just past the landing platforms. There, in 6 columns of 5 each, her Chosen marched closer. Leading them was their Commander. Each of the Chosen were attired the same. Leather pants with Beskar plates. Bare chested and carrying a wickedly sharp Beskar pike in their right hands. The only differentiation for the Commander was a pauldron on his left shoulder of Beskar. The elite warriors marched to their Mistress. As they tracked through the snow, their formation hid their numbers. When they reached Maestus, they formed behind her. Each warrior kept their eyes alert, body ready for any sign of danger to their mistress.

Maestus shifted her eyes to her Commander. Perhaps nothing. Perhaps orders were given. She contented herself to wait a while kore. Braving the frigid temperature in order to see more arrivals. ​

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Matriarch of the Scar Hounds Tribe

Objective: Reunion (BYOO)
Location: City of Asoport, Carlac
Equipment: FS-18-UP2 Assault Rifle | 2x Sunfury Pistol | Light Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger | 2x Riftblades | Promise of Freedom | Ring of Wishes and Dreams || Cloaking Device | 5x ASBF Probe Droid || OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran | Hex | Closed

"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Ziare Dyarron | Freedom​

After the Onderon mission, we went back to a planet I never thought I'd go to again. Carlac. This place felt like the last place I had been many, many lifetimes ago. It was partly true. After the retreat from Onderon, I boarded a different boat to the one Thomas Barran arrived in. So I just sent him coordinates where to meet me here on this planet. After I landed, I went to a place that was a turning point in my life today. On this planet was my first battle, I mean Ziare's first battle as a fresh COMPNOR agent, the first war and battle during the Second Great Hyperspace War. Ziare never went home after that battle. I ruled the body after that and have ruled it ever since. for that was the place…

… where I first met Mongrel.

Ziare and Mongrel... which later became Mercy and Asher, and Keilara and Kallan. At the time we had a bit too many personalities in one body. Anyway, this is where my life changed, because this is where we first met. Where Mongrel kidnapped Ziare after that trembling little girl almost killed him. That's why he didn't kill her. At the time he thought human flesh was a weakness and said he wanted to be fully cybernetic. He was different, a madman, bloodthirsty someone, the exact opposite of my husband, the man hiding under the chains of Maw. The one I freed. We were both different and at the time I don't think either of us had any idea that our lives would be forever intertwined.

While thinking about this, I arrived at the area where all this happened in the past. It wasn't such a bad place then, it was the camp of the young Warlord of the Scar Hounds Tribe, in a square with several small roads leading to it. I entered the square, which was on a hill overlooking the capital. I took off my helmet and felt the wind playing with my hair. It was snowing and cold then, not so much now. For a few moments I saw the past and not the present. Then I felt cold metal arms on my neck, on my face, and where he hit me. But today I felt his warm and soft embrace of.

We lived in different times and we were different.

The square was now empty, with only the sound of birds, wind and the distant city as I approached the other side of the square, where there was a higher wall. There was no sign that there had once been fighting here. My footsteps were completely silent, not even the slightest noise. I instinctively looked into the alleyways, like the one where Mongrel had once broken Ziare's wrist and nearly strangled him. I know Ziare thought she would die then, but she didn't. What happened after that is history now. I closed my eyes, I was alone, MANIAC will signal if someone is near me.

I no longer regretted that Asher had died on Tython, because I had found my way to him. I sobbed in his arms for days after we found each other again. There are still wounds that won't heal, but I'm going to kill Darth Solipsis anyway; or at least that was my plan. His sin was that Asher was now dead and that he suffered so much. He will pay for everything. As I thought about it, I clenched my fist and let it go after about a minute. I was looking forward to going home to my husband, it would only be a moment. But first I need to talk to Tommy.

I quickly looked around the place, then sat down on a bench, rested my elbows on my thighs and supported my forehead with the backs of my hands. I was tired, I was going to talk to my adopted brother and then go home to rest. It might be a bit tiring living in two worlds, but I wouldn't have missed a minute of being with Asher. And revenge…

… yes, revenge was something that I couldn't let go of either.

 

[Rath Nihro]

”You do realize that no one here blames you for what has happened, don’t you?” A feminine voice spoke from the holoterminal as a face of high cheekbones, braided blonde hair, and steely eyes of blue that stared at the shadow of a man. There were others present as well on the holoterminal. Each wore a similar style of simplistic clothing as they looked upon him with a mixture of sympathy and fear. Fear that the one they reached out was beginning to fall too far into the Dark.

”This isn’t what Valstina would have wanted for you.” Another had spoken up. Their words held truth to it as a dark gloved hand held a peculiar crystal of yellow that still emitted the soft warm light. Casting an illumination over the dark armored figure before he gently closed his hand around the crystal. Thin beams of light still peak from between his fingers as Rath was merely reminiscing. A feeling of longing for what was once a reality, and sorrow that it would always be forever a dream.

”The tides of the Force are churning again. Even now, death and suffering are brooding in the dark. I must see where the Force plans to amass their forces and go from there. Until I’ve reached a conclusion, my contact with you shall be minimal at best. I’m sorry, Nas, but this has to be done. The Force waits for no one.” Rath stated rather plainly, and unfortunately for Rath no one knew him better than the Echani before him. After a moment of processing, they reluctantly nodded their heads.

”The Dark is not the only path, but so be it. Just try to stay alive this time.” Nas jabbed at the dark warrior before the life of the holoterminal had diminished. For the call had ended with the sisters, and left Rath alone with his thoughts. Rath stashed away the kyber crystal on his person before they exited out of hyperspace. The snow covered planet of Carlac loomed overhead, and orbiting the planet was a fleet of the imperial might.

---

Location: Outside of Citadel Caelitus, Carlac
Tags: Maestus Spindle | Open

His presence alone could be felt before Rath entered the Carlac’s atmosphere as the ever corrupted Force power shrouded his form like a blanket of darkness. Whispers of fear, seeds of doubt, planted into the minds of the weak as Rath descended his ship to an easy landing within reasonable distance from the Citadel amongst other ships. As the ramp had lowered to the icy ground, a certain howl of chill ran through the ship. Rath’s dark cloak bellowed with icy fingers clawing at his form.

Rath made sure to adjust the warmth inside of his ship so that his cat wouldn’t freeze while he was gone. So the former Warden stepped down from the ramp as the ice and snow shifted under his weight. Not a sound could be heard from him, not in the midst of the icy winds and the multitude of people that stood at attention. Every one of them looked upon the Citadel with attentive focus and disciplined form of unification. Like a soundless, fleeting shadow, Rath closed the ramp to his ship before he began to approach the crowd. Albeit staying at a distance from everyone in particular.

The white crystal at the pommel of his sword shaped like the head of a snarling wolf almost blended with the surrounding terrain if it wasn’t attached to the soft leather handle. Where it remained protectively at his side, and on the other was a peculiar cylindrical hilt that remained attached to his belt. It was time to see what this new Empire was all about, and whether they were potential allies or foe to consider.

 

[Onrai]

OBJECTIVE 1
Outside of Citadel Caelitus, Carlac
Tags: Ibaris Varanin (OPEN)

Aln suf afal dre abominaan zjita
dre fun lo dries, saks, aln tseral
te anal fir laba krice ulir sa sepal ti muth
yet ali ulir dre rin sepal wirdr dre raerd
-Inscription 451 on the Fragment of Shumath-Gun*

A destroyer-scale warship entered into space near the orbital plane of Carlac. The vessel's hull was scorched and scarred by decades of war, and by any perspective would be viewed as a threat by virtue of how many battles it had survived if nothing else. This was the Ablution. Having served multiple powers and, according to some, multiple masters over the course of several decades, the ship's infamy belied its resilience. It had survived being ambushed at Kashyyyk. If the rumors were true, the ship had unparalleled hyperspace maneuverability that was belied by its aging and unmaneuverable spaceframe. But as of late, such a vessel had begun to be known for the interdimensional instability detected on and around it.

Claims had circulated that the vessel was touched by the power of another plane of existence, and in a sense, they were not wrong. The decades the Ablution had spent in Otherspace battling the Charon had only further instilled a sense of wrongness on the vessel. It hadn't changed, nor had it mutated or been altered by the currents of that infernal realm, but anyone who trod its decks that had not familiarized themselves with such a sensation would understand the sense of malevolence, of sheer apathy the vessel seemed to have for the limits of reality.

Though the ship circulated in orbit, for a time, no vessels were disgorged from its hangar. Despite this, soon on the surface, a presence would make itself know. A presence that would be familiar to some, alien to others, but above all, powerful.

-

It was but a brief tear in the fabric of reality that allowed Onrai's avatar to enter the landscape outside of the mighty citadel, nary needing a shuttle to make landfall. There would be shuttles in due time - after all, someone had to showcase the scavenged remains of the past she had collected, as well as the hundreds of thousands of soldiers who served her, offered as a token to the union of forces. Her warships, all the age of the Ablution and younger, were too an asset to be thrown into the navy.

As she stepped foot on the surface of the world, blonde hair made plain and a visual reminder of the relationship she once had to the one whose flesh had served as the basis for her future form, her toes crunched against the surface of the planet. She gave a soft smile - to experience the trappings of mortality again was a delightful sensation, to feel tactile touch as opposed to merely conceptualizing engaging an object with her power. Her eyes scanned across the crowd of variable parties, some of whom she recognized. She noticed as Aerarii Tithe spoke with with Alicia Drey , a former apprentice she would need to approach once more and educate of the new truth of reality she had discovered. How could she forget Maestus after their first encounter in decades, seizing the cardinal of Ashla? Some, like Nute Griimda , she did not recognize, but she would - there were much grander things at play here than mere Mawite politicking turned propaganda.

She froze for a moment, blinking. There was something here. Someone who bore an unmistakably familiar presence. Her eyes scanned through the coterie of malevolent and/or imperious faces gathered on the world's surface thus far until they noticed one particular individual: someone whose touch in the Force seemed familiar. So it was that Onrai's form slowly began to walk over, seeking words with the woman in question. It was not far until her introspective nature made herself vocally known.

"Unusual circumstances." She said. "And here we are, offering allegiance to an idea greater than ourselves in the hopes that we may yet influence it. Do you think such may prevail?"

A moment passed before Onrai gave a feigned understanding, near identical to truth, that she had forgotten to introduce herself. "Onrai." She said, offering forth her identity in the simplest and most reclusive forms. Perhaps the reaction would help solidify whether her suspicions were indeed truth.

*And so does the abomination come
The one who knows, seeks, and blesses
She asks for a price some say is too much
Yet to some the risk is worth the reward

 

[Spindle]

Tags: Maestus | Rath Nihro | Open

There was a slight skid as boots met ice on the pavement, the Nagai righting herself from social disaster with a dip in posture. The lady in grayscale had hardly been counting on a particularly graceful entrance and the ice seemed to take that as an invitation. A soft tut was the only indication the specter gave her temporary loss of footing any mind, the heel of her boot digging further into the ice to further solidify herself. It was a rather mundane show of reclaiming any lost dignity, meant to disguise the subtle concentration of the Force in her heel, meant to encourage the ice to seep deeper into the pavement. Corruption and erosion at its most basic, accelerated, level.

More bones than flesh, Spindle was snug in a thicker tunic than her usual. Augmented by her hand, of course, the lined fabric produced far more warmth than its appearance would suggest. Enough so that outside of the fur draped over bony shoulders there were no further additions to her ensemble to note. It was a display of power in her own right - both the clothing and the nonadherence to the cold, its bite fading to nothing noteworthy after a few minutes of exposure. Before long, the goosebumps along Spindle's forearms faded as her hands adapted from their usual corpse-cold.

The bite in the air was nothing in comparison to the whispers abound. The summons of Ignacious Korvan was no event to ignore (she assumed, at least, she hadn't met the Despot). Fascination beamed in the Nagai's beady eyes as she took in the gathering collection of individuals.

 

[Aphon]

GATHERING SHADOWS

Tags: Irae

Theme: Lacrimosa

The journey back to the known galaxy had been... complicated. No less complex than his own journey to the Unknown Regions had been, but getting one's self lost in the greater unknown was one thing. Finding yourself back within the norm was entirely another. To be honest, Aphon had little dreams of going back, for his vision rested upon the dark recesses of his Dathomirian ancestors. Yet, there was that ever-nagging sensation, lingering at the back of his mind, calling him... was it home? Surely not, for Carlac wasn't exactly Dathomir. Yet, he felt the nagging all the same, and therefore he would follow it as a moth to the flame.

Pushing his way through the crowd, he turned his attention to his dear companion Irae, who had proven to be more of a boon than any other could in a relationship. His cold, golden eyes peered into hers, his blackened lips letting out a grim exhale as he sought her advice.

"What do you make of this?"

It was simple, yet him and Irae had developed a level of understanding that made them above flowery rhetoric. And this moment, he simply wished to know her thoughts.

​

 

[Hex]

​

Tag: Keilara Kala'myr Thomas Barran
Location: Carlac
Objective: Meet her sister

Spoiler: Equipment

• Neon Lady suit
• ap-25i SIMP pistol
• 'Candles' Heavy particle blaster
• 'confetti' Rocket launcher
• Party Poppers
• Firebee swarm - inferno pattern
• Chewing gum
• Dancer repulsor board
• Jade Void Amulet
• Dervish Knife

Spoiler: Hex dialogue colors

Poor Hex hears voices in her head

Hex speech to others
Hex speech to herself

Hexes inner voices
'...Neutral...'
'...Doubt...'
'...Anger...'
Coloured '.....' are also words that Hex can hear , but I decided not to write them to reduce clutter

Hex, Elyssa, or whoever she was supposed to be, stood in the Scar Hound transport. She fidgeted and spun her Dervish Knife in her hand as she waited. She hadn't been given most of her stuff back yet, she was still a fairly unknown entity and fully arming her, particularly heading into a potentially emotional situation was considered unwise. She had practically begged for her knife back though, it helped her focus, it helped her relax. It's pink enameled blade spun rapidly as she butterflied it.

She was going to meet her sister, she still didn't remember anything of her early childhood so in all of this, she was placing her trust in Thomas Barran . To his credit he had done nothing to make her doubt him, but, given literallt any other option, would she be taking him at face value...

'...Not a chance...' she shyly smiled to herself.

During their trip to Carlac she had been caught speaking to herself on more than one occasion so Thomas now knew about the friend's she carried on board. Turns out that mental instability was as common amongst the marauders as cybernetics were back home, so it wasnt a big deal and they people mostly just left her to it.

Hex had read up on Carlac on the way here once she had been given access to the holonet, her tattoo still worked and the lower levels of firewalls on the pad compared to her prison pads allowed her to finally access the Cryptnet for the first time in almost a year. It wasn't much but it allowed her to get a message out to Hilal Vizsla that she was safe and to the crew that the smuggling mission was a dud. Of course she rememebered to activate identity and screen scambling on the crpytnet to ensure and of Thomas's men weren't treated to Hex's secrets of they happened to be watching.

She was nervous...

"This woman you say is my sister, what is she like? Does she look like me?" she asked the man next to her as they approached their final destination. "I still think this is all messed up though yeah? I'm going to need something, I'm not an idiot, if I think this is a setup I'm gonna stab someone again" she looked out of the corner of her mouth and her lips curled with playful malice. "I just don't know what... hmmph"

'...good chat...'

Hex rolled her eyes at herself.

'...She might stab you, your not exactly prize sister material...'
"Harsh!!"

The blue haired girl looked thoughtful for a second "Do you think she'll be armed?" she asked aloud.

There was a loud bang as the ship landed and there was some activity surrounding the pair, Hex felt her heart start to race, the moment was getting closer when one of them would be proved right or wrong. "I could really do with come explosives right now." she laughed, taking a drag on her cigarra before stubbing it out on her gloves and placing it behind her ear. Hex let out a long breath and looked at the pink blade closely, and at the badly chipped enamel work. "I need to fix this."

 

[Kazian Blackwood]

Tags: Ignacious Korvan | OPEN

​

ISB War Room, a week prior to the Convention at Carlac

​

"No, sir, with all due respect I cannot be a part of this!" the Chiss woman's voice was white-hot with rage as she swiftly turned from the holotable and stormed to the exit.

"Do not leave this room." I warned her sternly, but she didn't stop to acknowledge it.

"Let her go, Blackwood, that's not your call to make. You know what they did to her people." the Chief corrected me, and I turned back to the view the holotable. I knew what happened, but it was no excuse for the insubordination.

Upon the holotable was the shimmering red projection of the convention-to-be, including the ranks of the Mawite clan known as the Scar Hounds. We had been called to discuss security for the event as the ISB buzzed in preperation. The Chief's reveal that they would be partaking in the event had tensed the room immeasurably. A half dozen agents stood confused, but aside from the one who had left, nobody spoke up against it. Beyond the holo projection loomed the Bureau Chief, a man of extreme devotion to the Empire whose stark white beard and hair showed an age that his crisp grey uniform did not.

"Your father fought on Csilla, did he not?" he asked, knowing full well my family's history.

"He did, but he never spoke much of that particular battle." I affirmed, wondering where exactly the chief was taking this meeting. My father had served practically his entire life as a Stormtrooper, and survived to experience the profound rarity of retirement and a natural death. The man had lived to see the rise and fall of the Empire, and had never stopped hating the Sith and their hordes, as he always had described them to me. I wasn't thrilled at the idea that our greatest enemy was suddenly our friend, but I knew I wasn't to question it.

"Rightfully so, by all accounts it was a living nightmare. The Brotherhood of the Maw was a horrific enemy to the Empire. I can tell you all have doubts about this, so let me clear the air. This is politics, gentlemen, a means to an end. These Scar Hounds aren't going to just disappear, and the Galactic Alliance would no sooner see us restablish ourselves than they would the Mawites. Korvan has seen fit to bring these marauders under the iron fist of The Empire as a tool, a finger on the gauntlet no less than our organization. That is the reason why I have assembled you here right now. This convention is set to be a defining moment for the Empire, and you few are lucky enough to be chosen to ensure its security. Be assured that COMPNOR is in full control of this convention, and we have agents in the crowd as much as out. It has been our utmost priority to keep knowledge of this gathering away from the Alliance, so the risk of Jedi Ninjas, as per your last assignment, is negligable. You all have the special privilege of being assigned to the Despot's own entourage. You know what your assignments are, do not disappoint. That is everything. You are dismissed."

A unanimous cheer of "LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE" sounded from all of us agents, and then we began to to file from the war room. Peculiar as the revelation of our guests was, I had full faith in COMPNOR, and the Empire. The ISB had been one of the first Imperial organizations to consolidate under Korvan, no doubt because we had spent years before his rise culling our own ranks while various warlords sought to use us to their advantage. That was largely before my time, and I was thankful to be seeing the Empire through a fresh lens. I often liked to think I'd never seen the worst years of the warlord era. I was always steeped in the past, living the glory days vicariously through my father's war stories, or I was preparing for the glorious Imperial future in the academy, all the while blissfully unaware of the subterfuge and the infighting. Even now that I was privy to the hardships the Empire had been through, that I had avoided seeing in my youth, it was clear we were on the other side. This was the glorious Imperial future we were promised. It really didn't matter who came to share in our glory...

​

Carlac, Presently

Carlac's bitter winds oddly enough evoked a feeling of warmth for me, as I thought back to the winters I would spend with my grandparents on Galidraan between semesters. Perhaps it was just a coping mechanism against the cold, as we stood around watching the shuttles of distinguished guests sink from the sky and add to the ever growing cacophany of the convention. It seemed as though the Chief's confidence had been warranted, given that our Mawite guests had so far behaved themselves, and our own soldiers had done the same.

Our team of ISB agents were practically invisible in our full parade dress, looking more like military than security. Just another way to help us blend into the Imperial Despot's entourage in the case of any would-be assailants foolish enough. Surrounded by the 110, I felt safer than a bank vault on Muunilinst. I'd seen what those guys could do on Onderon. Frankly I was surprised to be seeing them again, given our blunder during Operation Nightfall that had warranted their action in the first place. My superiors had assured me that Nightfall had been a success in one paramount regard: scaring the Alliance. While I had my own reservations about the quality of that operation, I could see very clearly the spirits riding high around us with the knowledge that the Empire had struck its first blow on its behemoth rival.

Imperial warlords offering deference, Mandalorians bringing their arms for credits or honour, more Mawites here for the party, the shuttles continued to stream in. This was for many a moment years in the making. How few had believed the Empire would one day stand this strong again?

I looked to Korvan, his form steeled against both the weather and the burdens of the day. He had been the man to make this happen. My mind could only wander to the thought of him taking the throne for himself, and Emperor for an Empire...

 

[Marlon Sularen]

C O N V E N T I O N_A T_C A R L A C
Objective : Convene with other prominent Imperials

DARK EMPIRE
CARLAC, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

When Sularen first heard of the emergence of the resurrected Darth Solipsis's Dark Empire he was initially hesitant to once more pledge himself to the Sith'ari. Throughout the years in the aftermath of the Second Great Hyperspace War he had sought to rebuild his reputation amongst Imperials, hoping to dismantle the old Imperial narrative of him being a misguided delusional traitor that had been propagated by rivals such as Julius Haskler and Vandar Tarkin. He had already made progress establishing ties with prominent Imperials such as Velran Kilran and Trejann Vemec, which had given the High Regent a glimmer of hope, that maybe he had a chance to gather enough support to pursue his ambitions at a grand scale once more.

However the rise of Solipsis's Dark Empire only complicated matters for Sularen. On one hand the Dark Empire had shown greater potential then the Empire of the Lost, drawing more personnel and assets at a faster rate then the Empire of the Lost ever had throughout it's exsistence while also presenting itself as a belligerent force ready to challenge the hegemony of the Galactic Alliance, a stark contrast to the Empire of the Lost's more passive stance towards them. At the same time, Sularen had maintained a good standing with the Empire of the Lost especially with Velran Kilran who had recently ascended as their new Emperor, which would only enable Sularen to be able to rely on their support in future conflict against hostile factions.

Sularen still had fresh memories of when he was ostracized by the rest of the Imperial community due to his support for the Maw and he had no intentions of suffering such ostracization once more, especially now that it was slowly becoming more evident that he would have to pick between the Dark Empire and the Empire of the Lost. However as time went by, it became more clearer as too which faction had more potential and were more compatible with Sularen's grand ambitions, and thus the High Regent would choose to side fully with the Dark Empire going as far as coordinating Imperial forces during their incursion on Onderon.

Now with the grand convention on Carlac, Sularen had the opportunity to fully pledge himself to the Dark Empire and cast aside any doubts he had about the faction prior. Already he held a high-ranking position within the Imperial Military and was poised to emerge as a major force within the Dark Empire itself, which would only enable him to execute his future plans with greater effectiveness now that he had far more resources at his disposal. As for the Empire of the Lost? They would be dealt with in time but hopefully they would be able to see the bigger picture as Sularen had. Nevertheless, this was Sularen's time to shine and he would make sure by the end of the war, everyone would know his name and give him the respect he deserved. There would be no holding back this time, no hesitation. Anyone who stood in the way of absolute victory would be swept away to be forgotten by history for all eternity.

Marlon Sularen stepped off of his Shuttle once it had made landfall on Carlac, soon followed by his usual escort of eight Red Right Hand Operators. Immediately upon stepping outside, the High Regent could feel the cold winds of Carlac bite at any exposed skin as he observed the gathering that lay infront of him. Two Decades ago, one would have laughed at the possibility of Mawites and Imperials standing together, and yet what would have once been seen as an impossible folly had now been realized. The unification of Mawite and Imperial forces was an impressive feat itself but then again, given who was responsible for this unholy unification, Sularen wasn't surprised not one bit that such a thing had occurred.

As he walked through the many people gathered here at Carlac, the High Regent noticed a familiar face, none other then the Imperial Despot himself Ignacious Korvan. Even though he had now fully joined the Dark Empire, Sularen still remained very wary of Korvan. The Imperial Despot was a veteran of the Old Empire and was once apart of it's Tarkinist Leadership who were amongst the most hardcore Imperials, individuals who did not compromise and sought the destruction of all who did not see eye to eye with them. He was apart of what Sularen liked to call the Imperial "Old Guard", apart of an older generation of Imperials hailing from the days of the old Empire with some having long refused to keep up with the changing times which had brought them at odds with the newer Imperials within the Empire of the Lost.

In addition to this, Sularen was well aware about Korvan's record during his service with the Old Empire. He had a reputation for being brutal and ruthless while still managing to maintain a level of effectiveness, having led the Empire against the Chiss Uprising and against the Galactic Alliance most notably at Tion and Ilum. In addition to this there were rumors that he would have led a major offensive against the Silver Jedi Concordat but both the Empire and Silver Jedi collapsed before any offensive could take place. Sularen knew that he wouldn't be as relaxed as Solipsis, Tirall or Mori were during the Second Great Hyperspace War. Instead he expected Korvan to be someone who would seek to control him and limit his autonomy in order to ensure that he would be pulling all the strings, something which Sularen personally had an issue with as he had always thrived in environments where he had alot of autonomy and could operate with little restrictions.

Nevertheless with some time between the initial gathering of Imperials and the supposed "revelation" of the overall mastermind behind the Dark Empire, Sularen decided to approach the Imperial Despot and strike up a conversation. Maybe he could manage to get a good glimpse at who Korvan truly was beyond what he had heard and read, seeing for himself what kind of person the Imperial Despot truly is. Thus the High Regent made his approach, his eight Red Right Hand Operators right behind him as he walked up to the Imperial Despot. "Enjoying the convention sir?" Sularen said introducing himself to the Imperial Despot.

Tag | Ignacious Korvan | OPEN​

 

[Sabine Korvan]

---

COMPNOR​

---

Objective: I - Convention on Carlac
Location: The Entourage of the Imperial Despot - Base of Citadel Caelitus - Carlac
Tags: Kazian Blackwood

---

Such gatherings were droll affairs. Oh naturally, this specific gathering of the Imperial and Mawite elite was rather historic - but all such gatherings were, weren’t they? At least that’s how those who organized these events viewed them. Naturally, Sabine loved and respected her dear papa, but this level of pomp and ceremony was surely lost upon these... barbarians who ambled alongside the stormtroopers of the Empire. Up until this point, Sabine had counted herself fortunate that she had never encountered these savages on the field of battle - a feat that was altogether rare for those of her generation. Instead, much of her career had been spent directed at the domestic threats from within the Empire that was, and the sleeping giant known as the Galactic Alliance. For all the faults terrorists and insurgents had, they generally had the decency to at least shoot their victims in the head, or kill their enemies via an incendiary explosive. The Mawites were another breed altogether, where a quick death was considered a mercy as opposed to what other fates her countrymen had been subjected to. It was said that some of these marauders would eat their captives. Genuine disgust would plaster itself upon her face, that was until she espied a particularly intriguing figure standing a few paces to the side.

‘Kazian Blackwood, if memory serves.’

Sabine had never served with the special agent, but knew of him in the sort of way coworkers in different departments, on different floors, of opposing sides of a building may know of each other. Of course, more recently he had come to her attention for another reason entirely; as the man who had almost botched the securing of the Royal Palace on Onderon, which had nearly resulted in the death or capture of her father. ‘He’s lucky he’s not facing a firing squad.’.’

In brief, Sabine’s approach to her role as a fellow Special Agent was not dissimilar to her father’s approach to the navy - a narrow minded focus on becoming the best in their field. For Sabine’s part, she played a vital role to secure the loyalty of several warring factions on the world of Neshtab during the Cold War between the Alliance and Empire, and had done much behind the scenes to orchestrate and prosecute the compliance campaign of the Chiss peoples in the western frontier worlds under her father’s purview as Grand Moff. While her father had largely been accredited with the perceived successes of such campaigns, in truth he owed much of the success to her.

But she was content to live in the shadows, for now. Her time in the limelight would come, likely sooner rather than later given the events that were unfolding. As much as she liked to internally complain about the pomp and ceremony of events such as this, the truth of the matter was that this event was historic. A new age was coming into being today, now. She knew the part she would have to play, and she was ready for it.

Part of that role was hazing those who needed to do better at their job. She strolled over to Kazian, and affixed him with a stern expression as she wasted little time with pleasantries. “See to it that no ‘Jedi Ninjas’ breach the perimeter this time, Agent Blackwood. I would hate to carry out the order of your execution for failing a second time.”

Her expression was deadpan, and her tone as cold as the weather they were surrounded by, but internally...

She was going to enjoy this.

It didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes either.

 

[Kazian Blackwood]

Tags: Sabine Korvan | OPEN

Her approach was about as a chilling as the wind. Sabine Korvan, the Despot's daughter. No surprise she was among those gathered with us. She had seen me before I saw her, as she was already mid stride towards me when I caught her eyes daggering me. I knew her in passing, as I knew of the entire family who had come to take the reins of the state and lead us into the glorious imperial future.

“See to it that no ‘Jedi Ninjas’ breach the perimeter this time, Agent Blackwood. I would hate to carry out the order of your execution for failing a second time.”

Of course... it seemed my report of the assailants at the royal palace of Onderon had developped something of a viral nature in the ISB. It was warranted, I'd say. I'd made a promising name for myself the last few years in the academy and then CompForce, only to blunder a major operation when I was given charge. That she of all people was continuing to rub it in did not inspire me with anything but fear, but I kept my stoic composure. The best I could do was move on.

"I understand now is no time for failure, ma'am. The Onderon affair had many factors weighing against us, though rest assured the Alliance will know nothing of today's proceedings." Not like they knew about Onderon, or so my suspicions ran deeply towards. We'd gone to Onderon for resources, or so they said, but it was almost certain to me that it had been an intentional aggression of the GA. I could not go as far to say they were stratgeically leaked information, but their arrival was timed too well and too quickly. Any old Imperial remnant getting uppity was hardly a red-alert to the SIA or Alliance military these days. Now, with this convention, I believed my suspicions to be coming true. War was coming very soon.

"You must be very proud of your father. His achievements are a boon to the Empire not seen in decades."

 

[Ignacious Korvan]

The Imperial Despot​

Location: Carlac
Objective: I - Convention at Carlac
Tags: Kazian Blackwood | Marlon Sularen | Aerarii Tithe

It was truly a sight to behold as the armies of the Imperial remnant gathered around the terrain surrounding Citadel Caelitus. A sea of white, red, and black armor with the dark gray and black uniforms of the officer corps mixed in. Even the throngs of the faithful amongst the Church of the Dark Side had been a welcome sight, if for no other reason than to demonstrate the importance of what was at hand. Several dignitaries from outside the realm of both the Maw and Empire had made a showing here, as the Despot noted the presence of a particular former Chancellor of the Galactic Alliance, as well as a representative of the Trade Federation. Any leader would know that an army can only march if it has the funds and supplies behind it to do so, and for all of Chancellor Tithe’s failings - he possessed the singular skill of ferreting credits when they were needed the most; or so the rumors said, at least.

The time was approaching for the gathering to realize its purpose in being here, but not before a few other familiar faces joined the Despot at the dais. The first person the Grand Moff noticed was the security agent who had almost gotten Korvan killed on Onderon. The Despot was not pleased with what had transpired on Onderon, to say the least. Yet, in spite of it all, a unique opportunity had presented itself in the young ISB agent’s failing, and Ignacious was not someone who would ignore a prime opportunity when it presented itself. It was even more fortuitous that his daughter had seen fit to socialize with the young agent, which would set the hook even more for Korvan’s plans... for them both now, as it would seem.

A wry smile lined his face as the coincidental opportunity fully materialized in his mind, which was interrupted by the greeting offered by Marlon Sularen .

"Enjoying the convention sir?" Sularen said, introducing himself to the Imperial Despot.

Ignacious appraised the man for a moment before giving him a fractional nod of acknowledgement. “I am pleased to see you again, Grand Admiral Sularen.”

‘And for you to be back in the fold...’ He mused privately. Korvan did not know Sularen personally, nor did he have first hand knowledge of the circumstances surrounding his treason to the Empire. Perhaps that was why he did not have a visceral reaction to working alongside the former Imperial, who as chance would have it, paved the way for Korvan’s association with Solipsis himself if only by virtue of being among the first Imperials to join cause with the Sith’ari so long ago. “We are ready to commence. Please, take your place among us.”

The Despot extended a hand to the entourage that formed around him as he made his way to the dais. He surveyed the thousands gathered, and took in a deep breath. He would wait there in silence until the voices scattered throughout the mass would die down, which in and of itself spoke to the presence he commanded. “We all have endured much over the past two decades.” His voice rang through the valley that surrounded the citadel, amplified by some unseen, intangible means. “For you sons and daughters of the Empire, we watched as the dream which gave birth to the New Order died in front of us - brought to nothing by corruption from within - a cancer which infected our nation so that the Galactic Alliance; in all of her opulence and stagnation, alongside the vultures of the galaxy - could best us in our weakened state.”

His eyes drifted to the perfect columns of Imperials that stretched before him. “Order fell that day, and gave way to the chaos that has reigned supreme throughout the Galaxy.” His voice resonated with an increasing level of indignation; as if years of pent up stress and strain were vented through his words. He paused for a moment, then redirected his attention to the gathered Mawites who formed alongside the Imperials. “Whether Imperial, or Brothers of the Maw - all of us lost the fathers of our nation when Irveric Tavlar and Rurik Fel were slain; and you Children of Darkness when Darth Solipsis met his end on Tython.” Korvan was approaching dangerous territory, and he took a moment to choose his words carefully. “My words today will not heal the rift that exists between us, wrought from years of conflict. We stood as enemies for too long, and fought too brutally against each other.”

His voice turned somber, as if in momentary respect for the countless lives lost in the conflict that had so divided both peoples assembled here today. “But what can bridge that rift, is a new purpose that can unite all of us. FOR TOO LONG, our enemies have spread their brand of civilization throughout the Galaxy. FOR TOO LONG, the Galaxy descended further into the squalor of decay and indulgence. The New Imperial Order rose up against our oppressors, and sought to bring TRUE Order to the galaxy in the face of the FALSE SITH of the Sith Empire; and the Brotherhood sought to tear down the galaxy and bring forth a rebirth in its own image. Today, we have before us the opportunity to rid ourselves of the wounds of the past and see our purposes come together as one new purpose - one Great Plan that only one man can see fulfilled.”

It was then that Korvan stepped aside. And there was only one man for whom Korvan would step aside.

Darth Solipsis