Myriad Reckonings

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We should have him end up here XD

"That's a fault in the system, then. I saw it at the Judicial Academy." He thought for a moment. "Perhaps if I ever deign to retire I'll take up teaching. I have no heirs to whom I can impart my knowledge--why not do the next best thing and better the Empire's future enforcers?"

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I mean that might work maybe after tarkin betrays the empire? After he's on the run we know the empire shows up and burns the plateau, it would be plausible they'd send forces in to replace anyone Tarkin put in command on Eriadu and leave no stones unturned in case he was hiding anything else. Tarkin turning on them would be real bad press for the empire so they would call on the ISB to help change things over smoothly and while causing as small of a stir as possible

"They could certainly use you. You seem to have a knack for whipping them into shape. I have far too little patience for incompetence." As he walked he stepped on a rather large branch and it snapped beneath his weight. It was startlingly loud and reminded him again how he envied Tarkin's freedom of movement. His lack of agility was an annoying obstacle.

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That would work

Tarkin gave him a sharp look as the twig snapped. "Relative silence is best in this neck of the woods," he warned him. "But I'm not patient either. Or not tolerant, anyway. But I channel that towards molding the competent ones into something useful. The others can fall by the wayside for all I care."

Vader didn't respond to his correction but did make an effort to move quieter. It wasn't easy for him, but he knew Tarkin was right. Part of him was curious to see what monstrosity would come from those woods that would dare to face him, but that time would come later.

"Anything would be of use at this point. We had better troopers during the Clone Wars than we do now. It is of utmost importance we find the competent ones and hone in on their abilities so that they may lead the less gifted more efficiently. Too many commanding officers come from a privileged Inner-Rim background and are hardly worthy of carrying a blaster, let alone leading a thousand of them." Vader's distaste for the weak imperial officers was always evident. They were all terrified of him, and yet their behavior hadn't improved at all. There were a few good ones, but most were groveling fools in it for the politics alone with little actual military experience. He did not consider the academy training proper military experience.

"At least their thought processes are more diverse than the clones'." Tarkin stepped over a fallen log, watching to make sure he didn't make the same mistake Vader had. "But I agree some of the CO's ought to have at least a little experience with survival training. Too many of us from the Outer Rim ended up in High Command when our skills are needed in the lower tiers." He smiled. "Not that I'm complaining. Grand Moff suits me just fine."

Vader seemed amused at that. He smiled under his mask. "I think we can make a good case to the emperor for another initiative at some point. To fortify our infantry and naval lower ranks. We have done well in building up our special forces but neglected the training of the common soldier." He knew if there was ever to be any kind of organized rebellion -which was a preposterous assumption according to some- the imperial troops would need to be in top shape.

"We can speak to him together, then, and send general instructions through our battalions in the mean time." The forest darkened again as they entered an area with a thicker canopy, and the bird calls changed as well.

Vader was quiet as they entered. He studied the new landscape and silence fell upon them except for the sounds of the forest around them. The sun was darkened by the thicker trees and the shadows moved every so often as the smaller primates ducked into their hiding places and peeked out at them passing. A few bolder ones howled and scolded before darting away. They knew too much noise could attract trouble for them as much as it could for the intruders below.

Tarkin did not speak once the terrain changed. This was a part of the jungle where Jova had never spoken, and he had taken up that tradition. There was nothing here to suggest one should not speak--none of the plants or animals were any more or less dangerous than the rest of the Carrion's creatures--but he had observed his uncle and other elders going completely silent for hours on end during treks through these woods. He still didn't know why; it had ever seemed the sort of thing one asked about. Still, he had a couple guesses.

Garoche had broken the rule on his second journey out into the Carrion, when Jova took ill and couldn't join them until the third week. He had asked, and for the first and last time, Tarkin had disgraced the silence of the darkened grove with an answer.
He suspected, he said to his twelve year-old son, that they were walking on a mass grave. The Tarkins had not always been the saviors of Eriadu--it had taken some doing to become the affluential family they were today, and that meant land feuds. It was only natural that they would have fought other families and the native Eriaduans for territory, and this must have been the site of a major loss or a costly win. Tarkin wasn't sure which, but he had spotted a few faded grave markers on his hikes through the area that indicated a small memorial. This was a place of honor or shame, he had told Garoche, and they ought to follow Jova's lead out of respect for the fallen.

Garoche had looked around the woods and nodded to himself, sticking closer to his father as they moved on. Tarkin hadn't thought much of the question back then, more absorbed in the exasperating process of making sure his child didn't impale himself on a tree branch and thus incur the wrath of Thalassa, but now as he strode through the dim light he considered the fact that his son had questioned the silence where he himself had accepted it without voicing his thoughts. It was contrary to how he saw himself and his son, really--Garoche was impressionable and easily swayed, at least in the past. Tarkin was prone to pushing for information and for his own way of doing things.
He let out a quiet sigh. They had some things in common, perhaps. But this gave him no answers to his other questions.

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the wrath of Thalassa i feel like is a very real threat to anyone and everyone

Vader could sense a change in the air as they travelled onward. He too remained silent, not needing to ask why Tarkin's mood had changed. He could sense some of this thoughts, but many of them were illusive. This wasn't unusual for the stone-faced Governor. He wasn't one to share too much.

Vader listened as he walked, reaching into the shadows of the past that lurked behind the dark trees. He felt what Tarkin only suspected; the stories of many had come and gone here. Every planet had its own history of war and conflict, but much of Eriadu's seemed to gather here. There was a deep history to these lands that ran deeper than the roots of the trees they passed beneath. If he'd been a man given to curiosity, he might have halted and meditated, exploring the thoughts of those long past. Fortunately, he was not.

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She can and will use her influence to harm people for sure.
Tarkin has been at risk of a kneecapping multiple times at this point

They walked on quietly for several hours before it grew lighter again. The terrain from then on would be much the same: rocky swaths of land interspersed with meager grasslands. They had another three hours' walk ahead of them before they reached their destination.

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she definitely keeps the lads in line and I'm here for it. still gotta love how she just walks up and tells Vader to stop leave sirejj alone like it's no big deal. Sirejj started working on his Treacle resume at that very moment

Vader's breathing got a little heavier as they trudged on, his respirator making harsher sounds as it adjusted constantly to the heavy humidity. He didn't seem to be struggling otherwise. The sound of his respirator was muffled slightly by the thick air and foliage. They travelled on for hours, talking occasionally once they passed through the darkest section of the woods, but for the most part were content to travel in silence.

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Wanna skip back to their return after we reach the Carrion Spike?

Finally, as the sun was dipping below one of the mountains in the distance, Tarkin led him out of the woods into a clearing.

At first glance, the area surrounding the Spike was nondescript, all volcanic rock and struggling weeds. A closer look revealed that the terrain was littered with bones. There were hundreds of them, scattered all the way around the Spike, each crusted with reddish dirt and bleached by the sun. Most them were human and veermok. In fact, a disproportionate amount of human skulls could be seen from where they stood.

It was stiflingly hot as Tarkin stepped out of the trees; the sun was cooling the area slightly but it had a ways to go. His shirt was already clinging to his back from the trek out here, but it was downright soaked now that they were in one of the hottest parts of the Plateau.

"There," he said proudly, pointing upward. "This is what I've brought you to see."
The bones were situated around a high, stony hill from which a towering spire of obsidian jutted. The Carrion Spike, in all its grim glory, stood as it always had as the site of young Tarkin's greatest achievement, now abandoned by the veermoks that had once patrolled it. It was narrow and smooth, clearly very difficult to climb. To get on top of it would have taken some careful thought, which Tarkin had described to Vader a few years ago when he'd asked about his time on the Carrion. He wondered if he could still climb it now, old as he was and not quite as limber.

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Sure!

also, this would make epic art, vader standing looking up at the spike with the colors of the sun in the distance.

also Vader and Palps razing the Plateau is gonna be a real below the belt move. I almost feel sorry for Tarkin. We've unintentionally foreshadowed it though with Sirejj bringing up the destruction of his own world and talk of the Empire's methods of crushing rebellion

Vader looked up, the setting sun reflecting from his black armor. He looked to the peak of the rock formation, as if sizing it up. It was impressive, not in and of itself, but because of what it stood for. Even Vader could appreciate the strength it took one to conquer such a thing and the struggles that took place beforehand in order to do so.

"An impressive monument to your achievements, Governor." He said, studying the dark obsidian. It was reminiscent of much of Tarkin's work, both on Eriadu and offworld. He could sense Tarkin's deep connection to this place. It was the center of much of his identity. All his other achievements were impressive, but they had been foreshadowed by the bitter struggles he'd faced on these plains.

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I've looked for art of the Carrion spike so many times but everyone's sleeping on it. One day I'll make an amazing piece of it.

And you're ABSOLUTELY right! That's a fantastic point actually; maybe they can try and bond over it later. Tarkin will resist of course. A sort of "your struggle is not my struggle".

"This is the heart of Eriadu," Tarkin said simply. It was synonymous with his own. He glanced at Vader. "This is the site of so many failures, but countless victories as well. It's all that was and all that will be. But at the center of it all is persistence and power. There." He strode toward a pile of bones, which had clearly once been a small veermok. "Shadow," he said, picking up its skull. "The underdog I told you of. And not far away..." He nodded toward another skeleton. "Lord, his predecessor. It took weeks of preparation, and yet their reign ended so swiftly."