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A Journey Through the Wild and Unknown
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| Orion_Karath | Date: Monday, 24 Aug 2015, 12:30 PM | Message # 1 |
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| Hyperspace
He sat in the command chair that had been installed on the bridge of the Cold Steel, a common modification to the flagships of the Empire, and one of many done to the Imperial I-class Star Destroyer. The swirl of hyperspace blazed past the view he could gain through the bay viewports of the bridge he was seated in front of. They were travelling at full speed out of Imperial Space, headed towards the barrier of the Unknown Regions. Once there, they would have to work their way through at a rather slow and mind-numbing pace; necessary for the voyage but often imposing enough, if the impossibility of the navigating the barrier was not enough, to end any such voyage through. Luckily, he possessed maps of effective routes through the barrier provided by Grand Admiral Thrawn to the Empire decades ago.
He felt unease about this mission. There were rumors that the Empire of the Hand had been destroyed by a perfect storm of threats that confronted them simultaneously. Grand Admiral Pellaeon however insisted that the Empire of the Hand still very much existed and was a power worth gaining. Pellaeon did thankfully give him full authority to gain further allies in the Unknown Regions. The files on the Empire of the Hand indicated that they were part of a schism within the Chiss species, Thrawn’s people. While the Chiss within the Empire of the Hand believed in an aggressive offense against any threats, the Chiss people overall believed in a largely defensive strategy; having a Non-Aggression Law which prohibited aggressive or preemptive action by their military, so said the note on the file on the Chiss anyway. He was reading it as he sat in his command chair on a datapad. It was one of many files he had been reading since departing Bastion. Which he would continue to read as he proceeded to Nirauan.
“Captain Holt,” he called out as the ship reverted to realspace.
“Yes, Your Excellency?” she responded.
Line Captain Kira Holt was young but perhaps one of the most experience ship commanders available to him. She had actually joined Grand Admiral Thrawn’s forces during their recruitment efforts in the Outer Rim before his offensive. She was a Telosian Defense Force officer at the time, a mere nineteen years old. Granted commission as an Ensign in the Imperial Navy at the time, she served aboard the Stormhawk, working her way up through the ranks ever since until commanding the vessel in the final days of the Galactic Civil War. Having spent peacetime teaching at Prefsbelt IV, he was able to lure her away from military academia with promise of a starship command. He just so happened to ensure she gained a very deserved promotion with it. If it weren’t for Nemos already being an excellent fleet commander, he would have attempted to promote her even higher.
“What did you think of Grand Admiral Thrawn?” he asked, realizing that they had never spoken about the legendary warlord.
“I did not interact with him personally, if that is what you’re asking.”
“This I know, you were a Lieutenant on the Stormhawk at the time of his death. I would not assume a Grand Admiral, even Thrawn as exceptional as he was, would have made time for an officer not aboard their flagship outside of the Captains serving under him with exception likely given to a token few. Nonetheless, the question still stands,” he said, now setting the datapad on his lap as he looked up at her.
“He made me believe the Empire could be saved. He did not have to be personally present to inspire. He made you willing to live and die by his word, and not because he was entitled to it or in a cult of personality idolatry. He made you want to do so because of what he did and what he was capable of.”
“Would you consider that such feelings were due to his success rather than himself?” He was curious if the challenge would be taken well by the Captain. It was some time before she would answer.
“No.”
It was a simple answer. Abrupt as well in its nature. It seemed as if Captain Holt was offended by the suggestion. Her facial features were hard for a brief moment even, but they softened after another moment.
“I believe that one’s actions and self are the same. To me, Thrawn’s actions were Thrawn as an individual as much as his personality was. It was the right combination of ability, personality, and results which inspired such a feeling. Not as strongly, but Grand Admiral Pellaeon inspires similar feelings for myself and I am sure many others,” she clarified.
He sat and considered her words for a moment. It was always interesting to hear of the opinions on Thrawn. A supermajority of the Empire’s personnel these days admired if not idolized the Chiss warlord; and many when talking about him seemed to invariably make comparisons between him and Pellaeon. Pellaeon was perhaps Thrawn’s greatest protégé, although it seemed few consciously thought of him as such. Perhaps it was the long and storied naval career long before he was attached to Thrawn, but Pellaeon was often viewed as a colleague or counterpart to Thrawn, rarely as a student. Perhaps it was Thrawn’s greatest lesson; make yourself appear far less than you actually were. Whether it was intentional or not, the ‘old man’ as he had come to be affectionately known, was perhaps the most unassuming individual in the galaxy.
Pellaeon had defended tooth and nail the territory the Empire now consisted of. Through the in-fighting and the various games played by the Moffs for prestige as the Empire crumbled around them, Pellaeon managed to keep the Empire intact and remain a sovereign state. He had struck a peace deal, against all odds, with the New Republic and he was able to do so with some rather advantageous clauses. Clauses that may soon show their benefit to the Empire, or so he was told.
It was survival that motivated this mission. After their talk in the gardens on Bastion, he had been ordered to wait a few months before finally departing. There was something not quite right with the galaxy at the time of their conversation; he felt it through the Force while Pellaeon simply felt it out of instinct. Both of them had agreed to wait, and when no danger had come to pass, it was agreed that the time was right for him to depart Known Space.
The Force. It had been over thirty years since he was told he was Force Sensitive. His time in the Royal Guard saw to its discovery by the Inquisitorious. Up until that point it had manifested itself in his combat abilities. He had not served with any of the Empire’s Force Users until his Royal Guard training on Yinchorr, leading to his ability to fall under their radar. He was told that it was amazing that he was not discovered by the Jedi in his youth, and sometimes he wondered how different life would have been were he to have become a Jedi. He would have likely fought in the Clone Wars as a Jedi Commander under a master… and he would likely be dead at the hands of the very Empire he served. It was a thought that while entertaining, he often quickly let go of thanks to its macabre finale.
Instead, here he was. A Moff, who was once the man in charge of the entire special operations community of the Empire, who waged an insurrection against the New Republic’s initial occupation of Coruscant, who was once a Royal Guard, and had been haphazardly trained in the Force, now on the brink of the Unknown Regions looking to unite the Imperial Remnant with the Empire of the Hand. It was an interesting life he had led, and he still looked forward to the future.
This was the first step in many, at least to him. While this was Pellaeon’s idea and initiative, he was willing to go farther with it. There were several powers out in the galaxy, all of whom the Empire could use the allegiance of. The rogue warlords would be a good beginning; being able to regain and pacify or take down and conquer the last few fighting the Civil War would look good to the general public, and showcase the Empire’s remaining military capability. The Corporate Sector seemed set on their independence but their industrial power made it a worthy attempt nonetheless. The Hapans were stringently allied with the New Republic, but there was some powerful resistance that could be taken advantage of. The Chiss were an obvious avenue he would look into while in the Unknown Regions. Finally, there were the Mandalorians; horribly oppressed by the Empire during the height of its reign, the Mandalorians were still a warrior people without equal in the galaxy, and worthy allies if they could be approached without death.
His thoughts on potential allies, and a campaign across the galaxy to gain them, were brought more into focus as the moment came. The mottled blue vortex of hyperspace transitioned into star lines which suddenly came into focus as stars as the Star Destroyer reverted to real space. All that could be seen was the varied stars before them, which left the sky seeming rather dark. A benefit though was being able to see the galaxy itself within the stars, as a feint cloud running in front of them.
After a time of about five minutes, during which he moved from the command chair to stand in front the viewport of the bridge, the Cold Steel finally made its first of a series of jumps to penetrate the Unknown Regions. They would have one stop however before their voyage through the barrier truly began; the Empire of the Hand’s headquarters on Nirauan.
* * *
High Orbit over Nirauan
The Cold Steel emerged from hyperspace over the world of Nirauan twenty hours later, immediately broadcasting a friendly signal in both Basic and Cheunh. Their shields were down and weapons unpowered, but they were at the ready to raise and power both if necessary. It was hoped it would not be necessary. Moff Karath thought of the prospect of conflict with the Empire of the Hand despite their liaison agreement that was settled six years ago, as he walked onto the bridge while still buttoning his uniform together. By the time he reached the viewport, he was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes and soon a cup of caf was in his hand.
He had fallen asleep four hours ago while reading the datafiles on Thrawn, his missions and campaigns, the Empire of the Hand, and the Unknown Regions. They were surprisingly abundant files, having been given the uncensored files by the Grand Admiral directly from the Imperial databanks on Bastion. Pellaeon had clearly learned from Thrawn in regards to his command style, although he seemed to have a similar style long before hand from what he knew of the ‘Old Man’.
He found it an odd, the level of hero worship the Empire experienced and what effect it had upon the society as a whole. He also found it amusing, as a hybrid, how Human High Culture had largely disintegrated since Thrawn’s campaign. Yes, speciesism still existed within the Empire throughout the ranks, but it was less prevalent and certainly no longer a pillar of Imperial culture. He had looked human enough all his life to avoid any discrimination; his Echani heritage was not well known until he took command of the Storm Commandos and by then he had proven himself enough to largely continue to escape discrimination. He was one of the lucky ones, and had always privately taken issue with Human High Culture, for obvious reasons; but he was now glad to see Imperial society opening itself up.
Thrawn’s effect however transcended merely his species. Before Thrawn’s prominence, you were as likely to see an officer who was so on merit as you were due to influence or wealth. While they had lost so much, the Empire was stronger than ever before as the military had undertaken a massive but slow shift until an entirely professional, merit-based military force. Of course there were exceptions to the rule, such as his continued command of the Empire’s Special Operations. The fact remained that thanks to the losses suffered by the Empire in the closing years of the war, there was no one even close to him in ability or experience when it came to special operations. His dual role did bother him however, as it was one of many examples of the remains of a flawed and fallen Empire; one that would need to be ridden of before they could rebuild, and which he hoped to do so in the near future.
He was a realist. He did not hold himself to illusion when considering their current state. They were indeed the Imperial Remnant, not the Galactic Empire. Eight sectors that had long been the backwater of the galaxy were now all that was left of the First Galactic Empire. Some would call what was left the Second Galactic Empire, as it was but a shell of its former self. Indeed there was technically a Second Galactic Empire established, the Second Imperium which had recently fallen to the New Republic. He would let the Second Imperium have its delusions of being the Second Galactic Empire, and they would take it to their graves or their prison cells. He sought to build a new Galactic Empire, a Third Galactic Empire. Not a New Order, but a New Imperial Order. A grand society built upon the ashes and bones of the New Order and the First Galactic Empire. He wished to transform the Imperial Remnant into a legitimate galactic power once more. For the first time in his life, he was following his ambitions. For the first time in his life, he was paving his own path rather than one paved for him by others. It was not a plot of overthrow or replacement he held. It was a plot of reform and growth, one which began with this mission. The mission which would begin the long path to rebuilding the Empire for the greater good of the Galaxy.
The New Republic was chaotic. The Rebels which had long since been such, held onto their loose confederacy of worlds and species. He respected them, even admired them, for what they had done thus far. A poorly trained, poorly equipped piece meal insurgency managed to effectively and utterly overthrow and destroy the largest, most awe-inspiring, most powerful government and military force seen in galactic history. And they very nearly fell on their own six years ago.
There were lessons to be learned over the past six years. Unfortunately for most of the galaxy, the New Republic was a misguided experiment that had lived out its usefulness. In his opinion, they were experiencing their downfall, and a long and slow death which would be quiet if not helped along by another force. He had no desire to wage war against the New Republic, at least not yet. He wished to achieve a different kind of war. Not one of militaries and governments, but one of culture. He wished to achieve ‘victory without war’, to borrow a term he had heard once but had no idea where. The New Republic restored the Rights of Sentience and largely rebuilt the Galactic Constitution, worthy goals which he approved of. However the confederal, decentralized government clearly had no control over the galaxy. The galaxy itself was in chaos now, and order had to be restored. The Empire would be that order.
It was order which brought him here, as order had been the goal of the Empire of the Hand. A goal they were ultimately unable to achieve in the Unknown Regions as every power seemingly possible allied against them. The Vaagari, the Killiks, the Chiss, mercenaries, pirates, criminals, rebels, local governments… all fighting against this new Empire. He was personally unaware of threats faced by the Empire of the Hand, only knowing that it was in a state of steep decline and despair.
The Empire of the Hand was on the verge of collapse, and it was suggested that they were considering joining the Chiss Ascendancy as a matter of survival. He was here to present an alternate option, one which had been potentially impossible to offer until the ascendancy of an individual like him to the Moff Council. He was a warrior, a veteran of the war who had been fighting all of his life; just like General Fel. The rest of the Moffs would have been ignored and likely scoffed at by the grizzled veterans of the Empire of the Hand. He, however, was a proven commodity with a military record to back up his words and his name. He was action, not words whereas the Moffs were words, not action. When the clearance to land was given, it was a moment which marked the potential to change the future.
As he rode the turbolift system down to the hangar bay, caf flowing in his system to wake him up, uniform fixed and datapad in hand, he considered how he might convince the Empire of the Hand to rejoin their Imperial brethren.
Surely their roots as Imperial officers meant something to them still, but at the same rate the Empire largely failed its military in the aftermath of Endor. Perhaps Pellaeon was the key, he was Thrawn’s second-in-command after all. No… he was not involved with the Hand of Thrawn and had been unaware of it until it became known to the galaxy during the Caamas Document Crisis. It was likely many within the Empire of the Hand would have no knowledge of who Pellaeon was before he become Supreme Commander, or if they did, they likely viewed him as merely one of the many Captains that served under Thrawn during his campaign. The Captains… they were the key; Pellaeon was part of the key but not the entirety of it. The Remnant had been largely shaped by Thrawn’s campaign. The core officers that forged and commanded the Remnant were also the core officers of Thrawn’s confederation. The Empire of the Hand was Thrawn’s solution for the Unknown Regions, while the Imperial Remnant was Thrawn’s solution for the known galaxy. It was not a perfect comparison, but like the Remnant, the Empire of the Hand was on its back and vulnerable in a decisive moment in its history.
It was their very similar histories with Thrawn that would be his focus, until the negotiation dictated otherwise. As he boarded his personal shuttle, the Sentinel-class Landing Craft Warfighter, he felt confident. A sly smile penetrated his usually stoic face. Yes, today was going to be the beginning of a new Empire… the Third Galactic Empire.
* * *
Hand of Thrawn, Nirauan
The Warfighter had landed, to the spectacular display of a full squadron of TIE Interceptors escorting it in and screaming overhead as it set down on the landing platform. It was a sunny and pleasant day, as much one could be had in the orbit of a red dwarf. When the side hatch of the Sentinel opened up, a full platoon of Stormtroopers disembarked and formed an honor guard at the foot of the ramp. Moff Karath, escorted by a squad of Storm Commandos as well as his staff aide and his bodyguard. As they had ventured through space and atmosphere to be here, he went over his plans with his aide and bodyguard.
His aide, Colonel Isabel Gavarra, was a beautiful human female with medium toned skinned, dark hair, and brown eyes which seemed to pull in one’s soul. Her beauty was something he often used to his advantage as a distraction for others to throw off their own thoughts. A graduate of the University of Coruscant just before the Battle of Endor, she joined Imperial Intelligence as a field operative and was a rather good one, but joined the Imperial Army during Thrawn’s campaign in the hope of making more of a difference. Despite being highly intelligence and adaptable, with a proven combat record, she was stifled by the chauvinism of the Empire that had carried on. Her application to his revived special operations training following the signing of the Bastion Accords was what drew his attention to her, and he of course accepted her with her record. While she passed selection and completed training to be an Imperial Commando, the Moff Council forced him to not accept her into any special operations unit. He used his authority instead to give her a promotion and made her his staff aide while he was a General. When he ascended to the Moff Council, he offered her the opportunity to serve in the Storm Commandos, but she declined in order to continue serving him. Her loyalty was something he treasured as she was a valuable asset to him as an officer, and a confident and a friend.
His bodyguard, Major Rathe Nedolo, was a Thyrsian Sun Guard who joined the Stormtrooper Corps, also near the end of Palpatine’s reign. He was part of the last of the official Sun Guard before their dispersal into the Imperial forces. He had actually been selected for Royal Guard training while the Emperor was aboard the Second Death Star and was being considered for selection in the revival of the Emperor’s Shadow Guard following the impending assumed victory over the Rebel Alliance. Instead, he was largely lost in fighting for a series of several warlords until becoming an officer following the Imperial Unification. He eventually ended up in part of the first wave of replenishment of the special operations community following the signing of the Bastion Accords, becoming a Storm Commando. Despite a bright career ahead of him, he volunteered for the posting as his personal bodyguard when one was mandated for him upon becoming a Moff.
It was the three of them, with four Storm Commandos behind them, that ventured to the end of the honor guard, and awaited the dignitaries of the Empire of the Hand.
Moff Orion Karath
Governor of the Obtrexta Sector
Baron of the Empire
Warlord of the Empire
Message edited by Orion_Karath - Monday, 24 Aug 2015, 12:31 PM |
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| Soontir_Fel | Date: Friday, 28 Aug 2015, 5:43 PM | Message # 2 |
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| Baron Soontir Fel had been faced with the abyss of the barbarianism of Wild Space and the Unknown Regions. While the Empire of the Hand had large scale success in its initial years of existence, carving out an empire surpassed only by the New Republic and the Hutts, they had recently hit a wall in gaining further support or forces to support their cause. Very quickly, the tide turned against them as every offended party jointly attacked them in a not necessarily united front. Were they united, perhaps the defensive the Empire found itself on would be far more successful. However the Killiks had proven to be a devastating foe, while the Vaagari were simply throwing everything they could out of desperation which was currently netting impressive rewards for them. Then there were the Chiss. Upon witnessing the collapse of the Empire of the Hand, the Ascendancy was going to work in absorbing what lost territory they could and welcoming back the wayward own with open arms. He was considering merging into the Ascendancy until mere days ago he received a communique from Pellaeon, informing him of an Imperial dignitary.
He had mixed feelings about Pellaeon. He served with Thrawn, and was something of his student. It was notable that he was able to somehow manage to hold the Empire largely together, even if it was a shadow of its former self in the Imperial Remnant. It was not like the Empire of the Hand had much room to brag at the moment. He may have been a Grand Admiral, but he wasn’t Thrawn. He realized that the cult of personality that surrounded Thrawn through the Empire of the Hand flew in the face of everything that it stood for, but it was hard not to be loyal to the man that nearly saved the Galactic Empire. But someone did save the Galactic Empire, and that man was not Thrawn… that man was Pellaeon. And that was the only reason he accepted the dignitary that was arriving today.
As he worked his way through the repaired Hand of Thrawn fortress, he read the file they had on Moff Karath. He was a fighter, having spent the supermajority of his career in special operations. He had only been a Moff for a few years, selected by Pellaeon to fill a gap left by the purge following the Caamas Document Crisis, once he had the authority to do so as Chairman of the Moff Council. He still seemed to hold authority as the commander of the Empire’s special operations community, with noted protests of this by the Moffs. The information they could gather on him appear to suggest that Karath was not widely liked by the other Moffs, except those that like him were allies of Pellaeon. It perhaps did not help that he was only half Human; one of the many failings of the New Order. He was however a Baron of the Empire, like himself, and had been declared a Warlord of the Empire by Palpatine just before his first death. He peaked his interest, which made the upcoming meeting all the more complex. He was willing to actually hear out this dignitary, before he was only doing this as a formality.
He was joined in greeting the Moff by the elderly but still capable Admiral Voss Parck and Commander Kres’ten’tarthi, the commander of the Household Phalanx. Parck seemed open to at least opening a dialogue with the Remnant, if not outright supportive. Stent on the other hand was adamantly for increasing relations with the Ascendancy. It was not that he was necessarily opposed to the Remnant, but he had a point in that they largely continued the values of Palpatine’s regime and the Empire of the Hand had laid the groundwork with the Ascendancy for nearly five years now.
So it was the three of them, and three squads of Stormtroopers from the 501st, which greeted Karath’s impressive, if not extravagant, display on the landing pad. After some moments of a face off over the span of about ten meters, he walked forward to present himself.
“Grand Moff Orion Karath, welcome to the Hand of Thrawn. I am General Soontir Fel of the Empire of the Hand. To my right is Admiral Voss Parck, commander of our Imperial forces. To my left, is Commander Stent, commander of the Household Phalanx, our Chiss forces.”
After the introduction, he motioned for Karath to follow him inside, where he would be lead to a conference room. On one side, the trio of Empire of the Hand officers would sit, the other side was offered to Karath and his staff, with no stormtroopers being allowed from either side into the room. Refreshments were laid out on the middle of the table.
General Soontir Fel
Supreme Commander, Empire of the Hand
Acting Head of State
Baron of the Empire
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| Orion_Karath | Date: Tuesday, 13 Oct 2015, 0:54 AM | Message # 3 |
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| This is a transcript of a Live RP which occurred on 09-28-15
Karath: He was followed by his staff and the Storm Commandos into the Hand of Thrawn, while the honor guard would stand watch on the landing platform. Once they were inside, the honor guard would return to the Warfighter, which would seal itself up while the talks commenced. Once inside and through the Hand of Thrawn to the conference room, the Storm Commandos would take adjoining positions in the hallway while he and his staff entered. Like Fel, he took a seat in the middle of the three set up for them, with Major Nedolo to his left and Colonel Gavarra to his right. He was the first to partake in the refreshments provided. He sat silently, enjoying a glass of the water.
Fel: An awkward silence fell over the room. It was slightly unsettling, even to Fel towards the end. It was hard for him to concentrate his thoughts at the moment, too many were simply flying through his head. The current disposition of the Empire, the internal issues they were facing, how Thrawn would handle their current situations, memories of his time in the Empire…. all surging in his mind as he sat there. He almost unnoticeably shook his head and tried to force the thoughts from his head while he waited for Karath to speak.
Karath: “First, I apologize General Fel, but I must correct you. I am only a Moff, not a Grand Moff. Second, my reason for being here, as I am sure you are wondering, is simple. I am here on the authority of Grand Admiral Pellaeon, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Military, Chair of the Council of Moffs, and acting head of state of the Galactic Empire, to propose a union between the Galactic Empire and the Empire of the Hand.” He was as calm as he should have been talking about the weather. It was more matter of fact than hopeful in his expression. Confidence seemed to exude from him that not only was this is mission but that he would complete it flawlessly. It may have been a seeming lifetime spent in the military special forces or his time as a Royal Guard, perhaps even his limited training as a Force Adept, although he had no idea how to use that to his advantage here; but there was something about him that gave off the sense of an indomitable will. An indomitable will had in fact become something of an unspoken hallmark of his career, and something he certainly had here.
Fel: The awkward silence continued following Karath’s statement but turned into a silence due to shock. It was ultimately broken by Stent, after what seemed to be an eternity but was more likely only a few seconds. “You’ve come all this way, and for what? We have nothing in common with one another, and have done more for this region of space in the past decade than you did in three. I hate to disappoint you Moff Karath but you are wasting your time.” Very quickly, Parck responded as well. “Let us not be so hasty Commander. The Empire was built upon the foundations of the Galactic Empire, a large portion of use served that Empire, Thrawn himself was one of its greatest leaders. To say we have nothing in common is ignorant at best and a deception at worst.” This was not what he wanted Karath to see. It was an all too familiar argument, especially between Parck and Stent, lately throughout the Empire. With mounting losses, and more territory ceded to the united offensive against them every week, the Empire had become largely paralyzed between those that wished to join the Chiss Ascendancy and those that wished to join the Galactic Empire. No one seemed willing to fight any more for the Empire itself, only for whom they should run to for protection. He unconsciously let out an audible sigh.
Karath: He nodded to both officers on Fel’s sides as the spoke before staring at Fel for a brief moment. The man was clearly torn, and he certainly had a quite literal crisis of conscience emanating from each side of him. “For the sake of keeping this an easy conversation, let us refer to the Galactic Empire as the Imperial Remnant or simply Remnant, and the Empire of the Hand as such or simply the Empire.” He took another drink. “I hate to say, but Admiral Parck is correct. The Empire was founded upon the basic principles and founding ideals of the Remnant. But I must cede to you Commander Stent that was stand as very different governments, even if we may be two sides of the same coin, if you’ll pardon the folk-ism.”
Fel: “The same coin?! We have embraced all species that are willing to serve! What of you?! Since its inception, your government has looked down upon anyone who isn’t human, and yet it was a non-Human who nearly saved you but now you act as if he doesn’t exist!” Stent’s anger was surprising, even for Fel. He had never been so passionate in their private discussions. Parck was stunned into silence at the outburst, as was he for a brief moment.
Karath: He remained calm, not reacting any more than to lean back into his seat as Stent berated him. He could understand the man’s frustrations, more so than he knew, which he would reveal to him immediately. “I am not human. Not fully, anyways. I am a hybrid, half-Human half-Echani. I’ve fought for my rank and position all my life, especially now with my hybrid nature becoming more apparent as I age. The Remnant is changing from its former self, but I will admit it needs a nudge to rid itself of the more entrenched policies. A union between our governments would give the nudge needed to formally nullify Human High Culture.”
Fel: Before either he or Parck could speak, Stent again spoke, but this time more calmly. “So you’re saying only if we join you that you will get rid of your speciest policies?” It was a valid point to be made, which both he and Parck were thinking. Before a new back and forth could emerge between Parck and Stent, he finally spoke up. “What Commander Stent is trying to say, Your Excellency… is that from our position, the Remnant seems to be in a weak bargaining position. It would appear to many within our ranks that we would have a better time integrating with, say, the Chiss Ascendancy than the Remnant.”
Karath: “I realize what I am saying is incredulous. I hate having to say it, to be perfectly honest with you. Unfortunately, the politics of the Remnant are complex, and I cannot blame you for your hesitance or belief that it would be easier to join someone else, particularly the Ascendancy. If you’re willing to give me a chance and a trio of open minds, I fell though that I can make an argument to you which proves this belief wrong.”
Fel: A silence again fell over the room. He turned and looked to each of his counterparts. Stent was surprisingly silent, although it could have been due to the hard look Parck was giving him. The fact that Stent was yielding was progress, as he had dominated the discussion on what the next step should be for some time. After giving both of his counterparts time to interject, which they did not do, he spoke to Karath. “Moff Karath, you have a difficult task ahead of you in achieving your goal. Nonetheless, we are willing to give you an opportunity to make your case, and we will listen. You may proceed.”
Karath: “The Empire of the Hand was founded on Imperial principles; a strong but decentralized Imperial government, galactic security and peace must be maintained through a capable and effective military, a stable and centralized economy - but you have removed its more ineffective and damaging traits, such as chauvinism and humanocentrism… a move many within the Remnant are trying to make now. You have found a seemingly good medium between the stagnant isolationism of the Chiss Ascendancy and the unrestrained aggression of the old Empire. You have also formed a culture in which one man is never larger than the Empire itself, at least in regards to the living, and you have done away with the Tarkin Doctrine, a move which I thank you for. You have adopted Thrawn’s art of war, which the Remnant has largely done as well. Yes we have our holdouts, those that believe in the old ways, but one must adapt or die… and they are slowly but surely dying.” To this he took a drink of water, but it was almost a symbolic toast to the old guard and their decline rather than a true need to refreshment. “Your government was established on a flaw however. You are dependent on Thrawn, to point of nearing a cult of personality. I mean no disrespect when saying this, merely a critical observation. Thrawn was the heir to this Empire, he was what guided you and gave you purpose. I pose to you however that Thrawn still lives, and is very much alive in the galaxy. You may serve him as you all wished to do so when this Empire was founded.”
Fel: At this point Stent stopped Karath. “What do you mean Thrawn still lives…” he said, deadpan. It was less of a question and more of a statement of confusion. It was a feeling all three of them felt. The events of six years ago were still a sensitive topic for them. They waited patiently for Karath to explain.
Karath: He looked at each of them for some time now, as the pause hung in the air. An improvised bit of dramatic flair to his presentation which he used in a moment of fancy. “Thrawn still lives… through the Remnant. Like you, we were also largely shaped by Thrawn and his beliefs. Pellaeon, our leader, was Thrawn’s protégé, and he pushes for the same reforms you have instituted already – reforms many of us in the Remnant believe in. Reforms that are happening right now. Should you enter into union with the Remnant, that wave would not only continue but grow. We would accept and adopt many of your principles to create a New Imperial Order, finally ridding ourselves of the oppressive, outdated, and misguided beliefs of the New Order. Thrawn still lives, through his legacy… through the Remnant and the Empire of the Hand. It is that legacy which should unite us.”
Fel: Before either of his counterparts could respond, he spoke. “While short, this has been a meeting filled with passion. I believe we all care very much for our respective governments, and their futures. We all have closely held beliefs, and I think we should take some moments to reflect on what has been said thus far. We will adjourn until we meet for dinner at 1800 hours, and we will reconvene afterwards.”
Moff Orion Karath
Governor of the Obtrexta Sector
Baron of the Empire
Warlord of the Empire
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