The Imperial Military Protectorate (IMP)

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

FO Notes​

Took a wee while to get to this point, but now I've got that much-needed momentum. Genuinely over the moon that I've gotten this far, especially with the recent progress specifically. Took a measured risk with the arc in-inbetween, and the False Reprieve proved to keep it all in managable chunks as I previously hoped, along with the handy transplant of early Age of Retribution threads over to here. All proof-reading was complete up until that part of the timeline in any case, made sense to port it over while the motivation was there to do it.

In any case, I will complete as much as I can for our Empire arcs before the turn of the New Year, but I'm sure I'll be finished on this pre-Regency timeline before the end of January. I'm making a point of this so I don't hold off on the return to form for everyone else - I'm done waiting.

lets get this hypetrain started again, to get moving and playing the damned game already.
-Lee-

-THE EMPIRE-
(TE)
Phase 1: THE FEL DYNASTY
867-876 ABY

RULER

RURIK FEL
(EMPEROR)

Homeworld: SERENNO

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

SHOCKED TO THE VERY CORE OF THEIR REALM
THE NEW ORDER WAS ROBBED OF A GREAT RULER

THE WILL OF IRON MADE MANIFEST

ACT ONE
-THE AGE OF RETRIBUTION-
867-870 ABY

Spoiler

IMPORTANT EVENTS
The Battle for Carlac | Death's Sting | The Great Battle of Coruscant
Woken Furies | Home, or Whatever's Left of It | Die By the Sword

DEATH BEFORE DISHONOUR

PART 1: WRESTED FROM THE RUBBLE​

Even whilst the New Order was still reeling in disarray, the citizens were still, somehow, chomping at the bit. Frothing at the mouth for that one chance to fight back, to retake the lost world of Carlac - and Rurik Fel answered.

Tavlar's former Lord Executor, though shocked at first, would rise to the occasion when presented with the truth of his status as his leader's chosen successor, setting multiple executive orders into motion from the moment he stepped forth to lead the New Order. First on the docket, and much to the relief of the affronted, was fortunately fated to be the assault on Carlac, a clear sign that the realm's new Sovereign Imperator felt that very same rage within his own heart of hearts.

Under similar circumstances, this would have been among the most difficult of asks for any leader of Fel's caibre to make, especially with all the heavily-bloodied, heavily-depleted and exhausted contingents still recovering from recent battles. But there were more waiting, prepped and poised for a chance to prove their worth, thus Michael Barran's paramilitaries stepped forth once again to fight through the realm's darkest hour thusfar.

A messy affair it became, but a messy affair it had been from the offset - as any struggle would be against the undead.

Like any struggle against thoughtless flesh and blood, against the rabid and feral alike, doctrines of territorial gain quickly take secondary priority, thus all notions of conventional warfare would need to be dispelled to consider any part of the operation a success. Thus young Barran's,"Highland Brotherhood" collective would be required to join the new Lord Executor's struggle, and not just it's Gallowglass battalions, relying on it's esoteric element for the very first time, along with a detachment of Oathsworn and a sizeable collective of remnants from Lord Erskine's clash on Ilum.

Awakened undead hordes spreading out over the planet
Carlac (867 ABY)​

This met with middling success on the part of the young upstarts, with the Druidic workings incurring great risk to the paramilitaries' safety, but in the process of breaking down specific undead control-corpses, enough of the zombified hordes had dropped dead again to assure the complete exfiltation of those who had not yet been devoured. But the undead were not alone in the snow, nor were they in the air or in orbit for that matter, however, one of the higher-ranked authorities was no longer infirm, no longer affected by injuries incurred in the attack on Fortress Imperator.

Caarlyle Rausgeber was back at the bridge of the famed NIV: Tregessar, and with the biggest chip yet on his shoulder, nothing would keep Fel's Imperials from escaping a successful start to the next military campaign. Stepping up to coordinate with Lord Executor Strasza, (and with wounds still freshly stitched at that) and whilst all their decorated peers were either still hospitalised or forced to prepare for further escalations, it was this sort of momentum the Imperator needed to sign off the next planet on the Ironclad's agenda.

Although this next world was already being targeted for assault by the Silver Jedi Concord - the Imperials saw opportunity in opening their own front on Lao-Mon.

After trading urban warfare for it's wintry, ice-cold counterpart for so long, many of the new replacements bore none of the experience hallmarks of those familiar with planets like Generis and Oben, but all the right precautions would regardless be taken at the order of the veterans of these earlier deployments, leaving just the doctrines of jungle warfare to worry about on the ground. But the Goidels had other plans for the Mawsworn defenders, after all, the Maw had made their attack deep in the heart of Imperial territory, marking the New Order's obligation to answer in kind.

Temple-ruin overgrowth glowing with volatile spritiual emissions
Lao-Mon (867 ABY)​

This audacious, week-long, back-and-forth struggle in the mud would only lead to an inconclusive failure by the end, prompting the return of Tal's warhound in the midst of his recovery, though it seemed to matter little as to whether the operation was a success or not. The cage of the Maw's personal menagerie had been shaken as heavily as their own capital planet, proving the realm's mutually-proficient ability to strike deep within enemy territory, and despite the severe cost to life, flora and fauna, the second battle of the campaign had bought time enough for the New Order's armies to reorganise.

Consequently granting enough breathing-room to further-expand the the realm's borders.

Enough among the weary and depleted had recovered enough already, and enough that Mobus and Oorn Tchis had entered into Fel's embrace by the time Rausgeber's task was complete, but Rurik knew this new round of mobilisations could yield a few more planets before the next wartime contingency bared it's ugly head. Yet despite capturing two planets with recovered task-forces in play, snatching up Stygeon Prime and ending a decades-long civil war on Galidraan's prime planet, the Unknown Regions would once again spew forth with hatred when least expected.

The New Order had units committed to tandem deployments on Toprawa and Raydonia, thus only a few Imperial contingents would be present to defend Coruscant in it's Senate's hour of need, operating under the assumption that the next conference of the Bastion Accords would be well-defended, and at least for as long as cosigner delegations were there to rely on Galactic Alliance protection. The Imperials stationed within the Senate Building would not learn of this until the Maw's assault was well and truly underway, catching the shaky alliance in an unprecedented state of vulnerability, a slight the Ironclad would not abide.

And so, for putting the lives of the new Sovereign Imperator, Galidraan's new Lord Protector, and the realm's new Lord General in great peril, Rurik Fel would return to Bastion with the intent of tearing the Bastion Accords to shreds. The only alliance that would survive the signing of the Accords would be that which the New Order kept with the Ashlan Crusade, steadfast as they had been from the moment of first contact, though this also subtly opened a path for reconciliation with the Eternal Empire, one of which both reconciling parties knew would be a slow and steady process.

Entering into the domain of the unprecedented

The Galaxy was still not yet ready to face this new threat effectively
Not with so many alliances cast asunder already

IN THE HOPES OF IMPROVED RELATIONS BETWEEN ALLIES
THE JEDI HAD FAILED THE BASTION ACCORDS

THE REALM'S NEW LEADER HAD NO OPTION BUT TO TEAR IT ALL ASUNDER

DEATH BEFORE DISHONOUR

PART 2: RESTORING THE DENTED CROWN​

The Imperator had announced the dissolution of the Bastion Accords, having proved (and for the last time) that such initiatives were more trouble than they were worth - thus Tavlar's legacy would be spared of any final insults from those of whom his initiative was designed to protect.

​

The time had come to strengthen the realm's foundations, leaving no small stone unturned in the attempt to leave any links, routes or parsecs unconquered within the borders of the Imperial frontier, presenting a safe-warded, unified front to any and all foes who dared approach Fel's loyal domains, a move that prompted an introspective look at the faction he inherited. Grappling with the greatest questions concerning the realm's future, likely making his choice some time before his Lord General reclaimed what remained of the Galidraan system to conquer.

It is also likely that the state visit to the Goidelic homeworld further-compounded the Imperator's resolve, and after bearing witness to a unified, unflinching presentation of arms within the walls of Barran Hall - there resided his clarification that the Defiant would not flinch in their devotion.

Evening skies over Galidraan III
Homeworld of Galidraan's Goidelic caste​

To whatever end their fates designed, the militant wings of the New Order were content to lay down their lives for the cause, even after the most tumultuous war in recent memory. Standing firm in undying loyalty, and regardless of whether it was fated to be the right choice or not, the Defiant also knew that great change was needed to counter that of Mawsworn endeavour; and no civilisation needed it more than the New Order, prompting Rurik Fel to make his declaration, a change so profound that even common citizens could foresee it's indellible mark on Galactic history.

The Ironclad Serennoan had declared (and with immediate effect) the realm's ascension, becoming the Empire henceforth - with Fel himself standing to lead as their one true Emperor.

Imperium, without Sith, without the Dark Side, and without the very ideals from which they had ever strived to separate before. This was the perfection they had always been on the verge of attaining, the very next logical step for the realm, the next layer of colour and life painted into the dream of Irveric Tavlar, breaking the cycle of Imperial hatred once and for all. Not since the earliest days of House Fel's ancient heritage, not since ages near-obscure to the 9th Century's historical archives had such a wonder been possible for the ideological Imperial citizen, seemingly outlandish to believe, let alone consider until then.

Turning a Grey alignment away from it's shadowy roots, only to inject it with a new, otherworldly Imperial Light; and on this renewed ancient power, the Empire would rely without so much as a second thought, awakening the Will of Defiance in all it's loyal citizens. No longer just for the warriors and frontline nobility, no longer exclusive only to Imperials under great, life-threatening duress, this belief in Tavlar's ultimate goal would be enough to instil a belief in courage across the realm, to all resting within the Empire's borders.

Unprecedented to extremes that rested far beyond the norms of comprehension, and with little and less to cast as reference, to many this would have appeared as a first-ever occurrence for Imperials in general. For many centuries, all things Imperial were considered (and by all-) synonymous with all things Dark Side, and to such damaging further-compoundment that the Galaxy would see it all in a matter-of-fact perspective, engrained deeper on the collective Galactic psyche than most other universal constants.

Fortunately for the Emperor, all the context for being a separate entity from the Sith was there already, lying in the dusty, gravelled wake of the Third Imperial Civil War, and awaiting within the Holocrons of the realm's ancient ancestors. Yet even for all the complications they encountered down the line, the headache that was the rebellion of Carlac, Operation: Kyber Dark had finally proven vital to efforts of making such distinctions easier for the realm after all.

By then, it would matter little to the Defiant as to whether this new Empire would be well-received or not, those who remained by their side would not stray after one, transcendent change, and those who did not no longer seemed to matter in the eyes of former allies. The Imperial presence, as all the Imperial citizens knew it, had been solidified with lasting finality, no longer to be considered a successful revolution, lacking purpose in their glories' aftermath, they were a realm no longer in fledgling, formative years.

The time had come to stand alone
To laugh In the face of a cosmos full of enmity

And this new Empire was ready.

LOOKING OVER THE SHOULDER AS THE REALM APPROACHED THE TINGEL ARM

CONSTANTLY WATCHING FOR THE NEXT ATTACK FROM THE UNKNOWN REGIONS

DEATH BEFORE DISHONOUR

PART 3: WEARING THE DENTED CROWN​

Fate had chosen Nirauan as the war's next battlefront after all, testing the Empire's resolve - on the very ground from where the Will of Defiance first emerged.

It seemed that all the disillusioned were deployed as parts of one of the five newly-formed strikegroups, and fortunately for all the planet's inhabitants, many others had comprised of early-recoveries and eager redeployments, including the return of more than a few previously-undermanned units of elite quality. A small blessing for all they were being pitted against, as there was every chance that their leader would take personal command of the Mawsworn assault force in turn, and with more than enough battle-hardened warriors for the task, meeting True Order in the middle with the might of True Chaos to decide who was stronger.

A head-on collision between the strongest warfighting hosts of the 9th Century.

Deploying with Darth Solipsis, the Maw would field their trusty Scar Hounds, the Knights of Ren, Tu'teggacha 's Ebruchized, Zachariel Steelblood 's Bloodsworn and a targeted zombification epidemic to further-complicate matters for the Empire, setting to the task of devastating the jewel of the Imperial realm from the moment they landed. But standing firm in defence of the city would be the five strike groups, all yielded from the previous cosigning contingents of Tasforce: Trachta, given new leases of life in renewed executive purpose.

Central Districts of New Carannia
Nirauan (869 ABY)​

Groups Archais, Bescane, Cathar, Diab and Er'Kit alike were as ready and supplied as they were ever likely to be, especially with all apocalyptic predicaments considered, though everyone involved had been happy enough with their lot to keep complaints to themselves. The interlinked network of Groups Bescane and Cathar would operate in the metropolitan districts with close coordination, and with the supplies and ammunition of their own to expend, the supply-line would matter little to the combined commands of Willan Tal and Aemilio Valaar in the fight ahead.

Least of all to Kolson Vrask , leading Group Diab on an incursion behind enemy lines - far from all hope of assistance and resupply.

It was Alric Árheim and Nukth Kelga'an who were most likely to experience the highest share of said complaints, and yet, in the ranks of groups Archais and Er'Kit especially, no such reports or requests were ever logged. It was no secret that supply-line issues awaited officers who oversaw the most-isolated sectors, but in light of their subordinates' eagerness to prove their worth, no further demand inquiries would be needed beyond the courtesy check-ins.

As the Ironclad Imperator had in the years of his own reign, the Emperor would also personally lead his armies in combat, as any former Lord Executor would in Rurik's shoes, carrying all those instincts beyond the ceiling of his own coronation. This would carry a long way in the eyes of New Carannia's loyal citizens, though not half as much as it would with the troops stationed there in anticipation of the assault, still very much in need of galvanisation at the - especially after the disappointment that was the fight for Coruscant.

And so, sallying forth with aid from Lucien Dooku, and Noel Strasza, Mogra'teksa , along with Ragnar Bloodfist and Saaveina , Rurik Fel marched out with lightsabre drawn and activated, with his comm-link receiver broadcasting his laconic commencement order.

<"For Tavlar...for the Empire.">
<"End them all!">
​

After the final word to attack was growled on his way toward the Hand of Thrawn, all mayhem broke loose, escalating from skirmishes in the city's northern districts to direct fire on the sudden infiltration and all approaching Mawsworn landers, but unfortunately this is when all Imperial warcries quickly dissipated. Neither the north nor east would be enough to stop the onslaught outright, prompting fighting withrawls all across the front, slow though they would be, and even-riskier they would become along the way.

Within the Hand of Thrawn, the great Sith'ari would mount a strong offensive of his own against the Emperor, and with aid from both Detritus Ren and Kyrel Ren , and with Darth Tennacus and Maestus following close behind, the Maw were almost blatant in a visible intent to end Rurik's reign once and for all. Thus the clash would continue throughout the course of the battle, matched up for the fight of a lifetime, though as for Fel's strikegroups, the fight was unfolding beyond the extreme of chaos.

In what seemed like no time at all, the IMPAF warfront had shrunk to the last few, central districts like the Myrmidon Quarter, the last line of defence between the rallying checkpoint and Fort Imperium; this would draw out the Bescane and Cathar strikegroups to face the oncoming threats, enough to keep Steelblood's titans off the western approach to the Lord General's fortifications, but this was only one side of the walled redoubt, the northern and eastern approaches were encountering menaces of a much greater magnitude in contrast.

Dagger Squadron Dogfighting Low-Altitude over the City
New Carannia, Nirauan (868 ABY)​

Yet even with assistance from Dante Corvus and detachments of the 173rd "Myrmidons", with heavy-armoured assistance provided by Vandemarians serving under Aurelian Sigismund's command, the building pressure would give an explosive turn of fate eventually; somethhing had to give, and admid the bloodshed, the Mongrel found his way through. Applying pressure by widening a breach in the north wall of the district, the attackers forced a fighting-retreat to the walls of the inner redoubt, and after this shock to Imperial morale, the undead would simply spill through the gap en-masse, even catching Lord General Barran with a bite to his left arm in the midst of a CQC brawl.

The walls of Fort Imperium were enough to stem the tide, but as for the retreating defenders - not even the old Woad had gotten off lightly.

All active strike groups reacted to the threat, and with everything they had left within them to strive for victory, even losing Colson Vrask; along with most of the operators in Group Diab in the process, along with plenty other Imperial heroes across the entire battlefront, but Imperium's finest would push on against the odds. Yet despite meeting with varying levels of success in the counteroffensive push, these efforts had yet bought time to keep Fel's host in the fight, and for all the effort of holding out against their foes, the steadiness of retreat from the planet would give textbook precedence to future generals.

Admirable in spirit, even in the gut-wrenching lows of defeat, as it was discipline that may have saved the most lives that day, alertness as one's desire to save lives in the heart of war's Crucible. Even in retreating departure from the planet, all eyes would remain transfixed on the former capital planet, ruefully unsatisfied as their ships left for the nearest mobilisation-point; Imperium had not yet given up on the Jewel of it's realm, this much was apparent in all who vowed to return, all suddenly given heart by their Emperor's intent to resupply for Round 2.

The times of tumult were nigh on changing tides
Alas the Core Worlds were not yet ready to face the threat of the Maw

But the Empire would embrace isolation as the realm advanced against it

IT WOULD NOT DO TO LET IT LIE
NOT WITH THE WILL TO FIGHT STANDING CLEAR AND PRESENT

SEEN IN EVERY GAZE AND EVERY GLARE

DEATH BEFORE DISHONOUR

PART 4: ADORNED WITH WHITE ROBES​

As the realm awaited the announcement of the Nirauan Counteroffensive, Fel's active knights and warfighters prepared every facet of their campaign. Though none quite so much as the Lord General - appearing more erratic than ever.

​

In the midst of the mass-mobilisation process, drawing in resources and manpower from across the entire Imperial sphere of influence, it was more than just the Force-Wielders who were preparing surreptitiously at the time, biding their time after finding solutions of their own. The defeat had also hit some more viciously than others, and in the mind of the Lord General, certain aspects of the Empire's defeat had proven to be a greater blight on his mind than even Barran himself could have anticipated, especially after the traumatic experience of self-amputating to stave off zombification.

The war was becoming extremely personal for the Defiant, but in clear, reasoned understanding of the situation, it would never take long to understand why. Made painfully apparent when the counteroffensive forces arrived on Nirauan, expecting more than a token showing of garrisoned Marauders, only to find exactly that, left gobsmacked in the wake of a fight that never once adhered to previous Mawite norms of conquest. It was clear in the aftermath of the reconquest, near-glaringly obvious that neither conquest nor destruction were the Sith'ari's goals, compounded by the fact New Carannia had not changed at all since the previous battle.

The Brotherhood of the Maw had just one main objective that day, collectively working to slaughter Imperials - reaping the souls of those who stood to challenge the reign of Darth Solipsis.

However, neither IMPAF nor the Order of Imperial Knights had the time to dwell on the chosen strategy of their new mortal enemies, as the Emperor himself had lined up the next planet of the offensive campaign already, preemptively operating under the assumption that the next phase would be endeavoured as a direct result of successful reconquest over Nirauan. Lending more credence to the reasons as to why further preparations had been made, and in the spirit of secrecy, it was clear that nothing was being left to chance, nor to hubris for that matter.

They were preparing for Csaus, another planet reported to reside under the influence of the dissident Miraluka, another of the realm's growing list of threats to the Imperial frontier. None could forget that the Maw had provided assistance for Darth Caelitus on Carlac, there would be no illusions of the rebel's isolation in combat with the wrath of Imperium, and certainly not for as long as Csaus remained so deep within Mawsworn territory. Even going so far as to prioritize the expansion workload first, and mostly so as not to fall behind on everything else in the endeavour, both Ansion and Rhen Var were slated in with motions carried to quell these small uprisings.

It was much the same for Dathomir, Copero and Sarvchi, but mostly amounting to little more than token showings, gestures of continuing feud between Imperial and Dathomiri clans, and an achingly-long spell of minor nuisances.

Not that the rest of the Galaxy were shirking their obligations to sovereingty, as even the Galactic Alliance were making grand strides to fully occupy the nearest rings beyond the Galactic Deep Core, and the new realms along with it. Regardless of whether these expansions were Ashlan, Mandalorian or Eternal for that matter, all had caught on to the necessity of resources in the next Hyperspace War, be they human, metal or mineral, for all-things fuel and protection would be needed going forward.

Made all the more apparent in the wake of the Bryn'adul's sudden and vicious arrival, and despite being eradicated quickly enough, the monsters had presented all the Galaxy's other factions with precedence for improvements in matters of defence. Yet despite the fact their presence in Wild Space and the Tingel Arm presented a Galactic-level threat, even remaining so for as long as they remained, the latest race to find the Galaxy only seemed to pale in comparison to a fully-fledged Brotherhood of the Maw, a collective menace of whom all the uninvolved would face eventually.

The Galaxy was changing, evolving at an accelerated pace, and much too quickly for some; and riding atop that tidal wave of unprecedented extreme, keeping pace with bloody, destructive abandon, the Mawsworn were gaining an incomprehensibly=dominant advantage in the war's first phases. The only two factions with momentum enough to keep the Maw at bay were recovering from defeat, and to the hordes of Solipsis at that, thus with no diplomatic channels of communication between them, it begged an ominous question.

If the Maw were truly the dominant faction by then
Would a time ever come to change the Galaxy's fate? And if so-

Could the strongest of old put enmities aside to reclaim their former dominance?

TALK OF AN OFFENSIVE HAD BEEN RIFE AMONG THE MOFFS OF THE GRAND ASSEMBLY
THE GREAT ATTACK THEY WOULD TO STRIKE DEEP WITHIN MAWSWORN TERRITORY

TO SUCCESSFULLY INFLICT ALL THAT THE MAW HAD INFLICTED ON THE REALM ALREADY

DEATH BEFORE DISHONOUR

FINALE: WITH SCEPTRE IN HAND​

The expansions were paying off, and in more ways than the mere acceleration of resource-importation could yield, thus with a collective of warriors poised for deployment - the one-eyed Woad sought to make use of these worlds in his own, curious way.

Unanimously cleared by Imperial High-Command, effective immediately, it would be among the garrisons on all these worlds where the first battalions of the Lord General's new legion were formed, serving a purpose that would surely carry into the realm's next offensive. Adding to the 1st Battalion array from the survivors of Nirauan's planetary garrison, poaching only the ideal candidates from rooted roles within already-established legionary command-chains, Erskine Barran proudly established the foundations of the 313th Legion, only to drag them along to the frozen Hellscape of Csaus a few weeks later.

Fortunately for the first Sabretooth-Troopers, however, their Lord General had been wise to make a detour, accepting an invitation to make a state visit to Republika Mantellska - a large Pro-Imperial nation of humans on the famed planet of Ord Mantell.

A visit from which the locals made sure that Barran would not depart empty-handed, departing for Csaus with a highly-experienced contingent of paramilitaries, well-utilised access to the planet's Imperial garrison, and a pet tigress-cub Lord Erskine affectionately named,"Micha". Though as for whether all this would be of help in the fight ahead, and even beyond Csaus itself, was still anyone's guess at the time, but the old Woad had faith it was enough to hold the line for as long as the Emperor needed.

Yet in that same matter, it would become clear before long that Rurik Fel certainly wasn't slouching either, somehow affording time for strategic coordination admid increased sparring-sessions. Seen in the deployment of Bex Tarring 's Bramber Brigade, Qar's Carlaci Medical Corps, and contingents from the Mandalorian Enclave, (even going so far as to provide close-air support from Dagger Squadron) it would be made clear from the offset that this offensive was designed to strike within the new heart of the Unknown Regions.

Thus the 313th would find quick relief that they weren't alone beyond the Citadel's gates, and despite the early low-altitude advantage taken by the Maw in the air, the Empire's showing would be enough to make their nemeses flinch. But complications would soon result of the downed Imperial TIE-fighters, with much the same ringing true for the Mandalorian landings, yet unlike the Clan Krayt landings, only the Imperial far-left flank retained enough freedom-of-movement for the attempt to rescue Dagger Squadron's downed pilots.

That one ill-fated success that cost the life of it's commanding captain, a loss of which the Mandalorians were better off averting, fortunate in their unwitting negation of doom - for all around the Krayt crash site would be forced to fight their own struggle for survival at the time.

An action of which all would remember, but ruefully, especially in the wake of a high-ranking officer's demise; but for all the grief, and the harshest of bloodying processes yet, Sabretooth Legion would lay their lives on the line for hard-fought successes all the same. A clear alarm-bell for yet another impending escalation of conflict in the Galaxy, as matters were becoming a maelstrom of ultraviolence across the main battle-lines at the time, clashes of an extreme so horrifying that even the Carlaci Medical Corps would need to fight for survival.

A successful rescue-operation was one thing, but to hold out against such ferality was an entirely different matter, however, much the same would be said of the citadel's defenders beyond the walls. This new sort of Imperial offensive wasn endeavoured in the spirit of shock-and-awe strategy after all, meeting on no-man's-land with everything they had, but in the midst of clashes that met power for power, and without shame or restraint - the resulting crucible would astound the hardest of hearts forevermore.

This battle (as many would go on to agree after the fact) likely became the textbook example of a meat-grinder for all involved, another testament to all that results of immovable objects meeting with irresistable forces, and in the view of all who were brave enough to catch it all on live Holonet streams, the entire Galaxy would know that Csaus was a turning-point. Making all counted blessings multiply threefold when both battlelines eventually disengaged, counting to the good fortune of all involved in the melee, though none doubted as to whom this clash had benefitted more in contrast.

For all would be licking their wounds when the dust finally settled on Csaus, but over the course of the next few months - it would be the Defiant who reaped the rewards of this much-needed breathing room.

The Order of Imperial Knights had brought the citadel itself to ruins before the offensive was finally called off, the Emperor's statement of intent was made firmly clear to all the denizens of Solipsis, and the early formations of IMPAF-Command's personal legion were already showing promise, lingering seemed to make no sense beyond that point. There was nothing left to prove by then, all conceivable objectives had been accomplished in the eyes of Fel's closest subordinates, marking the first sign of hope in years.

Retribution had been sought for so long since the Maw's attack on Fortress Imperator, and in the aftermath of the assault on Citadel Caelitus, the Age of Retribution could finally be brought to an end. Success had finally solidified the redundancy of it's function, and for all the uncertainty as to what would follow, the Imperials would later laugh in hindsight, for all-things destined fate would soon decide it all for the Empire in the following months.

As true Imperium expanded by way of necessity
So too would it's greatest rivals

And all much sooner than expected

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

WITH WOUNDS LICKED FROM THE CLASH IN THE SNOW
THE DEFIANT STOOD READY AS THEY FACED THE UNKNOWN REGIONS

ACT TWO
-THE AGE OF AUTHORITY-
870-876 ABY

Spoiler

IMPORTANT EVENTS
Iron Will Decree | Dissolution of the Imperial Assembly
Kuat Crisis Part I | Part II | Fate of the Chiss I
The Eleventh Hour | Shatterpoint

AN IRON WILL

PART 1: TROUBLE IN PARADISE​

After deploying several hosts, mobilised specifically to hold off for the sake of recovering contingents, the Defiant were finally standing ready for the fight ahead - a shame then that it appeared to be for clashes on the Coruscantine frontier this time.

Even by the summer of 870 ABY, it seemed like there was no end to the brewing troubles on Imperial frontiers; but whenever circumstances went awry on planets like Kuat, the realm would always straighten postures to quell the unrest, only to find there was much that had escalated beneath their very noses. The Shipyards, for all that the Empire had invested to keep them in Imperial hands, had already fallen to the Galactic Alliance amid the committed absence of their overlords, and at the worst possible time for Fel's embattled dynasty.

Ravelin would be called upon to answer this growing threat, but with so many contingents mobilising for the Mawite frontier at the time, Emperor Rurik would suddenly find himself presented with something akin to a strategic quandary. A vexing choice between rerouting legions and utilising other, more-nuanced Imperial resources, as both choices would have their fair shares of drawbacks to consider, regardless of whichever path was walked by Serennoan boots in the end.

Rurik had neither the time nor the resources to shrug it all off so easily, especially not after drafting and implenting the Iron Will Decree, an unexpected centralisation of political power that was still making waves within the realm at the time, bringing the Emperor to the understanding that only one option remained. With no means of devoting more than a few battalions of Troopers from his conventional contingents, and no sensible way of relying on anything more without weakening already-vulnerable frontiers, only the clandestine element remained as an available solution.

Since their disagreements over the Yinchorr issue, the Galactic Alliance truly had been a thorn of intrigue in the sides of the Defiant, thus in the effort of rooting out the continued hindrance to the planetary reign of Julius Loghain , both COMPNOR and the ISB would be called upon to handle these acts of sedition. They respected the Emperor's need for discretion, and there were still many advantages such clandestine elements could offer, though these organisations had already proven to be powers unto themselves - truly dangerous to all who dared to cross them.

Yet even in this tense understanding between them, and tense enough that the Tarkinist fold were likely suspicious of this sudden olive-branch in turn, the aforementioned drawbacks would still end up overshadowed by the many potential benefits of the Galaxy's most-powerful surveillance agencies. A fitting response to a crisis that was already beginning to bear the hallmarks of long-term unrest, but before the authorative hand of Imperium could fully clench around Kuat, the need would arise for COMPFORCE (and all locally-garrisoned contingents from IMPAF) within the first weeks of their deployment.

ISB Agents and COMPFORCE Troopers Stood in Drill-Formation
Kuat Crisis Briefings (870 ABY)
​

Quickly prompting the full-implementation of the Emperor's vice-grip over a realm that still carried the scent of Miralukan sedition, especially at this particular stage of Fel's reign, and for all this escalating distraction from the Unknown Regions frontier, the Serennoan Emperor would make full use of his newfound ties with his realm's cloak-and-dagger collectives. Utilising a presence so powerful that even the newly-dubbed Lord General feared the long, omnipresent reach of COMPNOR's agents, though the risks of delaying already outweighed those of his own dilemmas.

Imperial citizens across the realm had knowledge enough of wartime law to see that Emperor Rurik had Casus Belli, and all the fair-reason he possibly could have needed; but eyes remained fixed on the Mawite frontier, wisely sensing the approaching storm of Solipsis, completely unaware that their Coruscantine rivals were doing the exact same thing. Even amid the still-recent actions of the shortlived,"Rebel Alliance", initiative, and the early escalations between COMPFORCE and the GADF, Fel remained patient, trusting in the Empire's Tarkinist stalwarts.

Trusting in the shadows of the realm, exactly as Tavlar had in the early years of his own reign, but just like Tavlar - Fel also had no other realistic choice. other issues of Imperial concern had become factors.

After all, there was always another issue Imperials expected to flare up eventually, the latest of which would coincidentally result from concerns pertaining to Chiss refugees, displaced from a warfront the Empire fought doggedly to defend from the Maw's first incursions. The realm had been preparing for such incursions after all, and with units primed to answer the threat on the Unknown Frontier specifically, all initiatives would be gifted with the autonomy needed to act in accordance to the planets they were defending.

The time had come for action once more
Such that all expected to be yet-another escalation of the conflict

Another gradual increase in warfighting difficulty

IN THE EMPIRE OF RURIK FEL
THE OVERRIDING INTENTION WAS TO HONOUR ALL THE REALM'S OBLIGATIONS

AND THE CHISS-MAJORITY PLANETS WERE NO EXCEPTION

AN IRON WILL

PART 2: TROUBLE ON THE FRONTIER​

Encouraged to stay the course, sticking like glue to the grand plan, there was always a violent variable awaiting Emperor Rurik with baited breath. Where eyes were already gazing, but like with all wary watchmen - none would ever account for momentary lapses of concentration.

During Kuat's normalisation process, the realm had afforded resources enough to handle an uprising on Dromund Kaas, and with the aid of the Mandalorian Enclave, the issue would be handled before it could get out of hand. Though not without cost to the morale of the realm's Lord General, thus the need for a temporary substitute arose in the wake of incurring mind-trickery from his duelling opponent at the time, leaving the defence of Noris to the command of his most-trusted bodyguard, unceremoniously presenting Erin-141 with a chance to prove the worth of the Elite Trooper program.

A chance for the supersoldier to prove her worth as the next Lord Executor, continuing a trend of convention, one to which the old Woad would adhere. After all, Barran knew the way everything was evolving around him, and unlike many of history's strongest warfighter strategists, the Lord General was more than willing to nurture these subtle changes. Having seen the change from Force-Wielding, armoured power, to that of cybernetic precision, it made the sole logical choice in evolution quite easy, a genetic anomaly for the task of executing the Emperor's Will of Iron.

Fortunately for the realm, however, Barran was right to be confident in the abilities, the indomitable inner-strength, and the very mind that stepped up for the sake of the one she still protected. However, the Elite Trooper's deployment to Noris would be frought with adversity from the start, fated to persist with challenges throughout the mission; not that the Maw's chaotic, unorthodox methods were lost on the Defiant - not that there was any way of predicting the Maw's next moves either.

Nipping at the ankles of any and all Imperial patrols within the city's innermost districts, the Mawsworn had been more than enough of an issue for the Defiant and their Norisian Chiss dependents, and for almost a month before the true crisis unfolded, providing something of a distracting smokescreen for the Dark Lord's next offensive. It was in the final approaching days in particular when the Mawsworn made their ambush on Erin-141's patrol, incapacitating the Elite-Trooper before a fitting response could be endeavoured, a status that would hold until the final, fated day in the fight for the planet's capital city.

Caught in many multiple layers of an unprecedented trap - sprung with a particular Imperial specialist in mind.

Having only seen their focus in spearheading approach for planetary destruction before, it would have been impossible for the Emperor to expect the Maw to utilise such a strategy for conquest instead, and in turn, Skorge the Bloodied could never have predicted it would take so long for the Defiant to muster a relief-force for Noris either. Hands were tied, unsanctioned reroutings of ordnance and personnel were forewarned to carry heavy Court Martial penalties, and to make matters worse, all potential reinforcements with legal clearance had been cut off completely from the planet's Imperial garrison.

Imperials holding the line on the Western Priman Battlefront
The Mawsworn Siege of Noris (874-875 ABY)​

Noris was alone, surrounded, and running low on supplies, compounded by the fact these dire predicaments would intensify tenfold against the full weight of Solipsis' most-vicious denizens. With just the local garrison, DECEASED Remmel Karsh 's Embers Brigade, and the aid of Jack E-138 , Erin-141 needed to hold out against the Maw in the wake of her own change in priorities. If the planet could not weather a siege for long, then air-defence cannonry would be used to cover the escape of the local Chiss population, taking a bleak, but honest stance on their overall predicament.

Erin would come to this understanding days before the hidden IED struck her patrol, thus the strengthening of fortifications could only continue if the hope of escape was dead and buried, though her allocated subordinates would only acquiesce to this reality if they could die fighting to assure the Lord Executor's escape. A fair request for any of deathly resolve to make, one of which the Elite-Trooper graciously accepted, and just in time for the ambush that very-nearly dashed the Embers' hopes of a death with meaning.

Even in the attempt to break out when the Maw's grand assault was finally underway, the wonders of quick healing still weren't enough to keep from suiting up in a sub-optimal phase of recovery, fighting all the way to the spaceport with stitches just barely removed at the time. Knowingly entering into a struggle that would he life-or-death, and every step of the way, even without the temporary handicap slowing Erin down, but therein lay the opportunity for the new Lord Executor to prove her true worth.

Not in mettle, nor in battle-prowess either, but in the wisdom required to think of her subordinates' last, collective request. Already bearing the hallmarks of a great Lord Executor - a natural genetic evolution of the roots from whence Erin's new rank originated.

​

All the Embers would perish with their peers in the 38th Sapper Company, with Karsh himself slain by the infamous Khamul Kryze in a short, but telling duel between warrior-champions, but in all this time spent fighting to the last gasp, the escape of the remaining Chiss was assured in a twist of miraculous fortune. Erin-141, for all the impossible odds she had been faced with at the time, was still able to find success in the midst of catastrophe, a consolation solidified by her safe extraction on the last ship out.

The dying flames of the planet's garrison would rejoice
Cheering the accomplishment of their final mission

Joyous in agonal smiles as Mawsworn barrels pressed against their skulls

ONCE AGAIN PUT ON THE BACKFOOT BY A MAWSWORN OFFENSIVE

ONCE AGAIN FORCED TO ADAPT TO THE RISING THREAT

FINALE (I): AN IMPENDING PERIL​

Given a year to prepare for the next clash, it would later become clear that the Dark Lord and the Emperor had foreseen more than that which was predicted by their respective subordinates - seeing far beyond the cloudy anticipation of all who would fight in the following months.

​

In a run of prudent actions with the Maw in mind, Emperor Rurik would set in motion a preemptive attempt to aid the expansion of their Mandalorian allies, setting Colonel Gowrie's Wildcats to the task of aiding Enclave interests on Roon whilst the Imperial expansion machine set it's sights on Ingo and Rannon. Granting the Defiant breathing-room enough to attend and debate the next move within the walls of Fortress Imperator, as the next Imperial Conference was already shaping up to a gathering for the ages, and attendance had become a mandatory affair for all the realm's Moffdoms since the Iron Will decree.

The Dark Lord's magnum opus was being put into effect, and in anticipation of Solpsis' next phase of attack, the difficulty of pushing past blaming-fingers would become apparent in the pursuit of a countering masterplan. Wherever, and however the Maw hit out at the Galaxy next, necessity would hush away all umbrages on the matter before long, as all who were there to attend the Emperor's conference understood the weight of the defeat on Noris, as even those who were absent had seen the reports, footage and all who survived the ordeal.

The next planetary clash would likely be the bloodiest of the century, everyone knew - even then.

​

Eventually, all reports on the Maw's next phase of attack on the Galaxy, sudden though they were for all involved, could not be questioned, especially with the planet in question being none other than Tython. Being a Holy world for both sides of the midichlorian paradigm, it's great significance would not be lost on the Galaxy, and in remembrance of those who had perished in this war already, the implication of Tython's sacrificial destruction would not be lost on the Galaxy either.

To those the Maw harried, and with unyielding malice at that, Tython was everything and more; courage to the shaken hearts, strength to exhausted arms, and meaning in a universe gone stark, raving mad. But to those who revered their ascended Sith'ari, the hidden victor over the Je'daii, architect of the great, final masterplan, only his will would prevail as they embarked on the ultimate gamble. Going all-in, with all their cards on the proverbial table, every beligerent faction would be forced to play the game without the shield of secrecy, and without a single hope for a quick, streamlined recovery.

​

Fate would not be so kind as to let supposed victors withdraw, not without crippling their warfighting capabilities first, not in a fight for the very soul of Tython itself, and certainly not for hands so bloody as those committed to the war in it's entirety. These souls would be repentent, often meditative in the hours leading to the landings on the planet's surface, with some bearing such hallmarks in their behaviour long after they landed, likely adding to the concentration of opposing energies being used in the ritual atop the Akar Kesh.

That one, imposing tower all the planet's defenders would struggle to reach throughout the course of the battle.

That Mawsworn beacon, that great, imposing black mesa, would eventually send a searing beam of light to tear at the veil between planes of existence, combining arcane powers in a bid to tear the Rift between Realspace and the Netherworld, though this would not go uncontested. Not with all the Galaxy's factions involved in some fashion or other, not for as long as the Defiant poised to strike out at the Maw for all they inflicted on the Norisian frontier, and with Darth Caelitus in his sights, Rurik Fel would stage his great counterattack en masse.

All the other factions would adopt similar precedents of urgency, thus their attacks would begin as soon as boots hit the ground, setting warriors against their counterparts with the ticking clock presenting an omnipresence, passing in mind from the moment they made their first strides on Holy soil. The ones who felt this most-acutely, however, doubtlessly had been the GADF and the NJO, fated to fend off an attack on a planet which rested within Coruscant's control at the time, and knowingly expected to hold their own front in the impending fight.

Ordered to hold the walls of the Jedi Temple ruins on the western side of the valley, and also with just a few allies on whom they could rely that day, the Jedi would come to a newfound understanding of their Imperial rivals, finally feeling the weight it's heroes carried on their shoulders. The Galaxy's very-own Mantle of Responsibility was heavier than it looked, displaying all that weight the Galactic Alliance, in turn, were fated to carry for themselves someday.

For all the indomitable fervour on show
For all that the Galaxy would suffer in the aftermath

All would have reason to dwell on the fragility of sentient existence

THE UNFORESEEN
THAT FORCE OF WHICH ONLY THE STRONGEST COULD KNOW
THE VERY THING THAT COULD CRIPPLE ENTIRE REALMS

FINALE (II): THE ULTIMATE PERIL​

In the west, Jedi would defend the ruins, and in the east, Mandalorians would struggle inward toward the Akar Kesh, with a similar strategy in store for both Imperial contingents - providing the main hammer-and-anvil from north and south alike.

The region had darkened it's clouds, growing colder with every passing minute, with the powerful mind of Darth Solipsis flooding the northern plains, and all this had occurred before the first shot had been fired in anger. But despite it all, the Defiant moved quickly to cut Mawsworn positions off in a split between east and west, and for as long as the battle-lines persisted in static warfare, it would require another Mawite contingent entirely to bridge the divide between zones of influence.

Yet the Sith'ari was nothing, if not the most-resourceful antagonist the Galaxy had ever known, setting into motion multiple traps which ensnared many an opposing soldier, though Darth Solipsis was certainly not alone in the fight that day. Summoning virtually every tribe who served under the Dark Lord's banner for the occasion, the overriding truth would be made clear from the first salvo; the Sith'ari was going all-in, drawing every army in the Galaxy into an all-or-notthing brawl, endeavouring the greatest of all gambles after all.

This was all the signal his enemies needed to fight with every ounce of ferocity they could muster, and with the duelling powerhouses considered, such fully-committed resolve could only influence the minds of the Galaxy's greatest champions. First, the Generals would fall under it's spell, especially Erskine Barran, prevailing against his longstanding rival in a mutual understanding of it's majesty. Duelling the old way, deciding it all with signature strikes, changing the future in one swift flourish.

But after the passing of the Mongrel, others would fall, and with Rurik Fel fighting like a lion at the time, it would not be long before Darth Caelitus was slain by the bright-white sabre of the Emperor. Quashing a rebellion with swift finality, a revolt that (in the view of many at the time-) need not ever have happened, for none would ever know until it was much too late to convince the Miraluka that he still had real friends in the realm, reliable colleagues in high and low places alike.

Near and dear friends and allies, and a soul-mate - all being entities who could have brought Lord Halketh back to the light.

It was enough to put Emperor Rurik into a peak state of hypervigilance, sensing more than just the spirit of Avernus behind the sudden switch, as every part of it bore the hallmarks of Solipsis, wisps denoting the great dreamer of all Sith'ari. Fel would be forced to sense all the energies struggling in the valley, and all at once, the ominous ritual found it's focal point, then Rurik sensed his opponent demanding the blood-cut sacrifice of Hâsk jiaasen. Prompting the Emperor to patch-through to his loyal Lord General, calmly making his last living decree as the realm's leader - a nomination for Lord Erskine to become his rightful successor.

The Wills of Iron and Defiance would endure, this the Emperor knew, though he had known for much longer that this would be his last day, the final pages of the Rurik Fel Saga. The Emperor had already found peace in this revelation, and months before his boots first touched the ground on Tython, standing firm whilst the entire valley erupted with violence around him, even as the skies overhead continued to grow darker. An inner-peace of the likes only the dead could know, as neither Jedi nor Sith could know as their sabres clashed around the ruins of the old Jedi temple, nor could those on the conventional battlefront for that matter.

Fortunate to know true peace in life, even if only for a short, fleeting few moments, a peace of which so many had perished to achieve since the faction's formation, unceremonious ends to thousands upon thousands of dreams. The skies were changing colour, rippling like the very fabric of reality at the time, the realm to which all sentient souls adhered, but like Fel, the unfortunate soldiers of civilisation also stood firm against these horrors of cosmic extreme.

But the ultimate menace, manifesting his own visions of the future, still lurked within the growing shadows - poised in wait for the opportune moment to strike.

Striking out from an unseen angle at first, the Sith'ari would move end the fight before it could have a chance to begin, but the Serennoan titan narrowly avoided the sudden strike, answering with one of his own to create space between them at least. But after that, this struggle for survival would resemble none other of it's sort between Force-Users that day, giving in to extreme, shockwave-inducing ferocity before Solipsis finally prevailed over Rurik Fel, but not all was lost when the Dark Lord proudly stood in preparation for the final, killing blow.

Something happened, and not at all as according to the expectations of either of the leading opponents, for a Jedi had sprung an attack in defence of the dying Imperial; and in the hard-fought space Ryv and Cotan Sar'andor had earned for Rurik's sake, a small moment of peace was found between their ilk again, fleeting though such moments were by that point of the war. But it was enough, and when the Iron Mask finally groaned,'No...no I have to bring the end...to all of this...suffering.', his will was already manifesting within the heart and soul of the protector he never expected.

"The last of my will...is yours...see it done, Ryv. You are our only hope. Let...let none other suffer as we have, brother."​

Though his heart of hearts was urging his unrespponsive nerves to continue, compelling his body to throw one last strike for glory, it mattered not that fate decreed otherwise, the hopes, dreams and wills of two realms had already met with fortunate, worthy recipients before the end. A fellow Padawan of the same master, one who Rurik could confidently, and proudly, declare as family, would enact a will he entrusted through labored final breaths, sending (with vital assistance from the trusty Je'daii-) the ultimate menace beyond the Rift for the sake of a man he still perceived as an honourable soul.

Thus the Emperor's reign was concluded
An ending worthy of song and tome alike

Passing in relative peace as the skies began to clear overhead