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The game had changed. Where once there had been one, now there were many. Where once there had been one, now there was none. Emperor Palpatine was gone, as was Vader. Their dominion quickly turning into a carcass beset on all sides by scrap-hungry vultures. It was not the Rebel Alliance or the fledgling New Republic that consisted the largest danger looming over the crumbling Empire. It were the jackals let loose after Palpatine’s death.

Ostensibly an homage to the self-same appellation accorded the ancient Atrisian Empire’s generalissimos, the designation of “Warlord” transcended distinctions among the myriad branches of the Imperial armed forces, prompting universal obedience and respect. Military minds noted for their express mixture of creativity and ruthlessness, they were distinguished from the ranks of grand Moffs, grand generals and even grand admirals by not only repeatedly redefining the impossible, but doing so with inimitable panache.

In the leaderless vacuum, the title of “Warlord” was hijacked by power-hungry Imperials of non-existent integrity. Undeserving small fish and second-tier “replacement” warlords like poached the rank in all its supercilious glory…but the self-appointed warlords also came in a much more dangerous variety: megalomaniacs like Admiral Blitzer Harrsk, ultranationalists, and superlative sadists. These Imperial rogues would keep the New Republic from claiming true victory over the Empire but were the single greatest threat to said Empire themselves. Their selfishness would destroy the Imperial State and that was something High Admiral Caul Bylvers was not going to let happen. He had already dealt with Harrsk in his own way and returned his Deep Core fiefdom back to the fold – albeit under Caul’s own command.

That did not, as some voice accused, make him a warlord himself. He adhered to the crumbling Imperial Government embodied in the Ruling Council. Unlike others, Bylver’s declaration of loyalty to the Empire was no empty gesture. Still… a solution had to be found for the council’s division and indecisiveness. Every moment they lost was a gift to their enemies.

Steeling himself against more possible accusations – for these seemed to fly back and forth over the table and an increasingly annoying rate – Caul adjusted his impeccably starched white Admiral dress and marched into the chamber. [url=https://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/starwars/images/9/94/Imperial_Shock_Trooper_canon.png/revision/latest?cb=20151106024630]Shock-troopers[/url] guarded the entrance, the crimson markings on their white armour flaring violently against the dark grey background.

Inside, a large round table took up the centre of the room with the glorious Imperial symbol encased within. Thirteen chairs provided seating to thirteen council members. In the past these had been occupied by Palpatine’s leashed yes-men, but those had all but gone. Power made for a seat on the interim ruling council, and so it were Moffs, top-brass officers, intelligence brokers and – of course – that vestige Mara Jade who had been able to lay claim on a chair. Maybe, just maybe that revenant force-user could be swayed. Security in the Empire could benefit from her talents, at least if she was not to... damaged. 

Reports flashed across the hologram that illuminated the table’s interior symbol, and Caul was eager to check what information the ISB was supplying them now and match it with his independently gathered intel. He would have to be making his own report to the council himself soon enough.

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