Private The Room Where it Happens

[Ryv]

Following the controversial decision to support the Sith Eternal in their battle against the Bryn'adul, the Silver Concord have alienated themselves on the galactic stage. As the great galactic powers prepare themselves for what may be a war unseen in generations, the Jedi find themselves stuck between oaths sworn to their homes and their respective orders. Many within the Silver Jedi have called the Concord's wisdom into question, while others have already stepped away from the order they once called home and the allies they once called brethren. As if to make matters worse, the Concord, alongside the Confederacy of Independent Systems, have taken up arms to defend the Sith Eternal in their endless war against the New Imperial Order. The line in the sand has been drawn. And Ryv knew it was time to call in some favors.

Bastion might've been the last time Ryv encountered the Sovereign-Imperator. Yeah, the young Jedi received medals for his bravery, but he wasn't there to claim them. Almost losing Maynard on the former Sith-Imperial capital world didn't go over well in his already struggling psyche. Add that and every other bump in the road that made up the Kiffar's life, well, you need some time away. Away from the front, the fighting, the lies, feelings, and everything else that reminded you of everything you wanted to forget.

Fortunately, that time came and went. He couldn't hide out in his apartment anymore, ignoring the knocks at the door and calls on his personal holodevice. The New Jedi Order needed their founder, while the Galactic Alliance awaited their Sword. But it was not just the sword Ryv hoped to bring into the fold. No, no, something greater remained on the horizon. A beacon of light called to the young Jedi Knight. Behind it, a storm of swirling shadow gathered in wait. It bided its time, licking at the edges of this final bastion of hope, threatening to break past whatever stood between it and the galaxy. His last vision warned him of a galaxy bathed in the ashes of war, shattered beneath a misguided Imperial war machine. With hopes to advert such a fate, Ryv grew closer with Irveric Tavlar. The two were not so different. Humble origins, a life of war thrust upon them, and an unquenchable thirst to see the end of the Sith once and for all. Still, they weren't alone. As it turns out, the galaxy managed to dredge up another of their ilk—a man not unlike the Sword or the Imperator, with a passion to match.

Ryv could only count himself lucky he encountered Coren Starchaser before ever having to cross blades with him. As far as Ryv could tell, he and Coren were on a similar page regarding being a Jedi and what that meant for the galaxy. They drew a line in the sand. They made it clear as day. The Jedi were either with them or against them. Which meant it was time to piece together every available asset and prepare for the shadow's arrival.

So they waited.

Perhaps their silence only stretched a few minutes. Maybe it went on for hours. Ryv couldn't be sure, as he often looked inward when he couldn't find something of interest outward. He could be sure of many other things, though. Like the tension in his chest as he awaited the General's arrival or the itchy sensation covering most of his jaw as tufts of short hairs wormed their way up from beneath his skin. Thankfully, Tavlar arrived in typical fashion at the Council Chambers within the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. No fanfare or announcement, just his empty presence in the void marching rigidly through the room.

"Ah, good to see you, General," Ryv greeted the Sovereign. "Take a seat," his remaining hand motioned to the singular table centered in the room. Three chairs hovered around it, each plush in appearance. "We keep pushing back construction on this room, so something casual will have to suffice," he worked his way into one of the chairs and nodded towards Coren. "This is Coren, but you probably already know that."

Irveric Tavlar | Coren Starchaser ​

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THE JEDI TEMPLE | CORUSCANT
E P I T A P H
Coren Starchaser | Ryv

Were it not for a sudden and dramatic flex and snap of tension between the Alliance and New Order, Tavlar's presence on Coruscant would have seen the nearest stones cast toward his brain pan. Justly so. But overnight, the Galaxy changed. The expected dyad of darkness and light had faded to a corrupted distorted unholy union between the most elder and titan of the Galaxy's great powers. 'The Elder Council' is what the tabloids theorized they call it. The mere lunacy and rupturing implications of this coalition forced a schismatic Alliance and Imperial Order split right in two to join at the hand again, even with tentative reluctance.

They could at least trust in the other one simple truth. The Sith were the enemy. Where to the Alliance, the Jedi they stood in complete opposition to their way of life, to the New Imperial, the True Imperial. They were vile tyrants, a sickening evil which wrought subversion, depravity and cruelty in their rule over the Imperials. The men and women so viciously denied control of their own destiny by this dark creed, slaves and chattel to their horrid vision of Galaxy paying ode to their one Sith, their Dark Lord.

Irveric would sooner see them all driven before him than accept any measure of co-existence now.

To be the man he was, Irveric Tavlar, the Sovereign Imperator to an Order which was ill relectant of the Alliance, untrustworthy in its intent and bearing a history of bringing Jedi like the two he was about to meet with to the blade in his tenure in Sith command.

But Ryv...was a good friend, an intangible bond molded in the bloodied, dank halls of The Beast, the Mandalorian labour camp to which Ryv was sentenced to during Irveric's brief military governance of the system.

He'd returned to the Galaxy resurgent and sent his summons the way of the polarizing military dictator. In spite of the grueling steps of preparation that his re-escalation of war with the Sith Empire required, the business necessitated his true presence in Galactic City.

Once more the free and open press of the Alliance sought every glimpse of Tavlar's arrival, seeking to breed controversy in the tabloids of why he was here. He never cared what they had to say, dreadful or glowing. At the very least, he knew he was having a better go than the Silver Jedi Concord now wrought with internal strife and civil disorder following their recent plea to support their lunacy in supporting the genocidal and despicable Sith Eternal state.

All the noise and clammor stopped once he entered the temple, as if in the presence of an entity detached from the rest of the city around it. The New Jedi, ever seeking their scholarly pursuits in seeking the secrets of The Force and their chosen dogma. He received nothing but wary glances and narrow eyes. But if he was invited here, by the Sword of the Jedi himself, there was little that could be mouthed in protest.

He entered appearing as he always had, donning the grey, black and silver military uniform with the two rows of six silver tiles befitting his rank of Sovereign Imperator, sole leader pressed over his heart into the fieldgrey tunic.

His entrance, to the two who could only ever draw anticipation by reaching out in The Force could only be described as sudden, given his distinct 'void' presence from The Force at all. 'Force Dead' as they called it.

"Karis." He muttered, discontent to merely nod in greeting to the Kiffar and instead stepped toward him, reaching an arm out before clasping one of Ryv's forearms. It'd been ages since he'd seen the boy, glad more than anything to see him upright, living and in good health. With his clear cut purpose still beating in his heart.

He then turned to Coren offering a hand once more to the Jedi Grandmaster, the metallic fingers of his cybernetic limb reaching out to shake his before sitting adjacent from them.

"I prefer it over the grandeur of Avalonia...even if they were far more excited to see me there than here." He said in reference to the capital of the First Order, regarding his diplomatic mission there. The First Imperial was a shade different than his own countrymen and women. Where Tavlar and the New Imperials were far more pragmatic and utilitarian the First Order liked to be looked at.

All the more, if Ryv had deemed the tone of this meeting 'casual' , even if it was in all technicality the diplomatic first contact between the Silver Jedi, a nation teeming at the brink of war with his own. Regardless, Irveric produced a cigar, bringing it between his lips and sparking it alight before he looked toward the two.

"I certainly do. For better or worse, I'm sure the Galaxy has seen my face enough to pair the name to it. Regardless, we're not here to make introductions so much as we are to speak of a more pressing matter. But it is the Silver Concord which seeks stand side by side with the Sith Eternal, the very entity or which I happen to place myself in a war of existence with, as the Silver Jedi once did...so I am...curious of the intentions here. If you, Coren are here to talk me down from my war...you would be sorely mistaken." He says, pulling in a deep draw of the cigar as he leans back in the plush chair, plucking it from between his lips with his crimson cybernetic fingers once more.

"But I know for certain that isn't the case, else The Sword would not see to it that we meet face to face..." Tavlar says flatly.