Imperial Secretariat
“The skies burned with the fury of a thousand malevolent suns. There, I died for the first time.”
[THEMES]
Kojo No Tsuki | To Rise, Virtual
Rodam’ithra’dovor
‘Mithrad’
The Observer
FACTION:
New Imperial Order
Chiss Ascendancy [Former]
RANK:
Imperial Secretariate
Csillan Refugee
Statesman and Diplomat
Defunct Aristocra
SPECIES: Chiss
HOMEWORLD: Csilla
FAMILY: Corrine [Twin sister]
FORCE: Force-Sensitive
AGE: Thirty-Nine
SEX: Male
HEIGHT: 6’3
VOICE: Ser Davos
WEIGHT: 176lbs
EYES: Chiss scarlet
HAIR: slick, jet-black
SKIN: A somewhat paler hue of blue.
Slender, angular and rigid, Mithrad is the epitome of the archetypal Chiss bureaucrat in appearance. Having spent his life thus far sheltered in the central depths of an ancient, now brutally ravaged civilisation, an air of melancholy wrings this middle-aged figure.
Crimson, scarlet eyes peer with indiscernible judgement upon those he encounters. Although his frame is thin, it hides a well-toned body, one the Chiss takes good care of, for his own sake- though it becomes obvious that his battles were never fought on the fields of war, but in hallowed corridors and dark alleys.
Austere as his form, his visage combines both a genuinely calming rigidity to it, much like a pillar in a stormy sea, with the crispation of one who has lost nearly everything to the Void.
- Lü Bu Fengxian
(+) Persevering
He reaches everlastingly for his objectives. This pushes him to strive hard to achieve his goals, overcoming minor setbacks through sheer willpower. Sometimes, this may however cause him to overestimate his capacities.
(+) Patient
Whether it takes a day or a year, Mithrad does not mind waiting to see his plans find fruition. Being of Chiss and aristocra ancestry, he has long been taught the value and virtue of methodical approaches. Even as shadows grow across his kin, kith and people, he has a long life in front of him, and no pressing or imminent ailments and unsurmountable problems to his survival and wellbeing. Thus, he is remarkably patient.
(+) Tranquil
The Observer is a calm man. He rarely acts rashly or emotionally, and usually does not stand out through a bullish nature. He is instead rather composed and placid, and looks at things through a methodical lens, playing pieces one at a time, with long-foreseen conclusions and plans.
(+) Inspiring
Although often pegged to be a sidelined character, a figure who would work best in a supportive role, Mithrad has, since his rigid, state-formed youth, worked on breaking out of his social shell. He has developed a relative talent to deliver the right words at the right time to bolster those around him.
(=) Underhanded
Combined with his aversion to physical conflict, Mithrad tends to solve his problems indirectly, through the help of third parties, underhanded tactics or devious schemes. This may help in taking the spotlight away from him, but may also make him some rivals and enemies along the way, or be seen with dislike by others.
(=) Selfish
Mithrad was born at the center of one of his world’s greatest corporate dynasties, son to aristocra blood and raised to statehood. Although a good person at heart, he often thinks little of the suffering or problems of others, and tends to firstly tend to himself- and such particularly after his past, present and promising future were all crumbled into nothingness by the fall of Csilla, his homeland.
(=) Introverted
Emerging from a wealthy background and standing in the footsteps of metaphorical giants, Mithrad sees no need to fight for a place at the top of the public pecking order, resenting pirates, Sith and Alliance politicians alike for their propensity to excessive spectacle and cutthroat competition. He instead focuses on personal pursuits and entertainments, accomplishing objectives he deems worthy of his labour. He seldom desires to be the center of attention, although he bears a talent for statesmanship, and has low tolerance for individuals he finds annoying or uninteresting.
(-) Trauma and Resentment
“Could I have prevented this…?”
Although he knows the conflict that took place was far above his past station, the Chiss can’t help but remain deeply traumatized by the cataclysmic fate of his world. He proverbially flagellates himself over the suffering his passed family and kith endured, and sees himself as at least partially responsible.
(-) Radical
The destruction of Csilla marked the psyche of Mithrad. To this man, there is no sacrifice too great, no cost too high, no evil outside of reach in order to right the wrongs that were made that day. He will go, in time, to the very end of the galaxy on a path of broken bodies if necessary.
- Tywin Lannister
Ruination, inevitability, despair.
Those were the feelings that scoured Mithrad’s mind, as the state craft took flight, leaving one of the yet chiss-controlled landing pads within the csillan capital. General order of retreat had been called, and all statesmen, bureaucrats, aristocra and other essential personnel were to pragmatically depart the Chiss homeworld as the tide of battle grew into a bloody slog, and the Mercy superweapon hung above Csilla like a mighty, dreaded sword of Damocles. Mithrad and his twin, like many others, waged an internal war within themselves, as many yearned to stand and fight- yet ultimately, the Ascendancy’s top hierarchy was right, and such nothing but rational a decision; to live and fight another day. The spirit of the Chiss race would endure, whatever took place here, as it had for untold generations.
Those were the thoughts the conflicted man held as the shuttle soon experienced a thunderous shock, as alarms flared across it. The ascending curve soon turned into a descending one, as the man quickly realized they had been targeted and hit, likely by an advanced homing missile, it’s provenance and sender unknown- an unsurprising turn of events all things considered, as their escape path had to briefly take them above the raging battlefield. Mithrad turned to peer briefly at his twin sister Corrine, whose sensitivity to the force, her Second and Third Sights by Chiss standards, had always been much more pronounced than his own. The pair shared a worried glance, hardening their forms and fastening belts as ground impact was near.
By a play of providence, it was amidst the battle at Thrawn’s Rest between the 501st stormtrooper legion of the NIO and the Dread Crusaders of the Sith Order that the senatorial ship landed, its flattened, curved bottom carving a long, controlled path amidst the rubble and dirt as its low altitude meant limited casualties for those aboard at first. Security exits were swiftly blown, as confused, disordonnate chiss bureaucrats jumped out of the wreckage, accompanied by meagre security details, soon quickly absorbed and overwhelmed into the ongoing battlefield. Mithrad and his kin were amidst the last ones to exit atop the small hill of rubble the ship had stopped upon, his crimson gaze scanning the premises. Having spent much of his life sheltered within internal Chiss politics, he struggled for a few instants, attempting to recognize much of the heraldries depicted, before eventually realized the Northern Empire’s very emperor’s own was present here, likely facing some Sith threat; Perhaps not all of them were doomed.
“With me! Carve a way leftwards! It is our only chance to reach allies!”
The shout rang over the confused brawl, as outmatched and outpositionned chiss security detail fought back against Sith Crusaders, attempting to reach the nearest pockets of NIO stormtroopers. Artillery shots regularly landed in and around the quickly splintering group of Chiss officials as the Sith Warlord pummeled the entire area indiscriminately, aiming at friend, foe and locals alike. Mithrad pushed onwards, blaster shot narrowly missing his head, and leaving a searing mark on his left cheek- not that that mattered much at the time. The party ran, climbing atop bodies, some yet living, their forms deformed by burns and blasts beyond recognition. In sight were Imperator Tavlar’s great engines of war- yet between such and the Chiss remnants yet remained another ongoing skirmish, where the Sith Order faced entrenched imperial defenders in a growing, bloody stalemate. Mithrad was far from a proficient warrior himself, yet there came a time in any man’s life in which they had to fight for their very survival, no matter how mighty and overwhelming they were. Faced with far superior Sith crusaders, Mithrad, Corinne and their ilk could only postpone the inevitable, falling like weeds, one after the one in a gory mess, being pushed back away from the NIO frontlines.
With the fate of the battle on Thrawn’s Rest and the conflict across Csilla becoming more evident, increasingly dire for the New Imperial Order and the Galactic coalition who’d arrived to defend the world, their own main objective had altered from seeking and destroying the Sith Crusaders and their Maw allies and shifted to evacuating the remaining chiss population of the world, with Mithrad and his group being ushered toward New Imperial ships for evacuation from the world under the protection of the retreating 501st Stormtrooper Legion and their commander, the Imperator
Irveric Tavlar
.This blessing in disguise materialized before the Chiss, allowing the few survivors a path out of the dying world. It was then that, to the horror of the fleeing Chiss, the burning sword of Damocles of the Maw began grunting in metallic grindings and wincing explosions, It’s broken engines beginning to power up in one last effort.
In the times and years to come, there would be much work to be done, and greater purpose to be sought.
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RETINUE
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SHIPS
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(Credit and thanks to
Irveric Tavlar
for help given when writing this and the formatting tools )
Irveric Tavlar
for help given when writing this and the formatting tools )
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