Darth Andeddu's Keep

Clusu could read the facial expression of Harnan, and could tell Illaria was not one to be trifled with. He was, however, confident in his ability not to anger her. Vlusu nodded with a slight grin.
Indeed. She certainly seems the type to anger easily.
Vlusu then moved on to a question that had been nagging at him for some time.
“Obviously, you harbor some animosity towards the Emperor for, as you you put it, he ‘screwed your girl’. Tell me, what are your thoughts and opinions of the man?”

This was a straightforward response, but it didn’t reach the crux of the matter. He could tell that he was evading the question somewhat, no doubt not wanting to say something that could be taken as being treasonous.
“When I say that, I mean thoughts on how he leads. Thoughts on his personality. You must know him to a greater degree than I do, all things considered.”

Vlusu stood up and took a deep breath. He started pacing slowly about the room.
“You know, Lord Ren, there are certain... individuals in the First Order who are not placated by the leadership that the Emperor offers. I wanted to see which camp you fell in... now I know.
Vlusu knew that Harnan was hiding something. Aside from the fact that he simply stated this, he could read his facial expression. There was obviously something that he wished to say, but he wouldn’t press further. He didn’t want to reveal his plan to the man before he was certain he would be an ally, and not a danger.
“As far as asking about the man’s personality, well, I want to see what kinds of decisions the man would make. As to why, well... you’d have to be on Csilla, as the nature of what I would be telling you is restricted only to those needed for the project, and those who I deem trustworthy and are at or above the rank of Moff or an equivalent.”
He paused for a moment, sitting back down.
“I could, theoretically, invite you to join me for a week or so, in order to view said project.”

Captain Vermeil walked through the keep dressed from head to toe in his shining, polished suit of crimson armor. For the sake of not being rude, he hadn’t brought any escort with him, as the man he was about to meet was of very great importance. He couldn’t believe he had gotten this assignment. Troops stationed with the Knights of Ren generally tended not to last as long as troops serving under any other group. Which is why he was actually relatively interested in this new posting. He knew he had what was needed to survive, and those who succeeded here often went on to achieve greater things, earning the praise of many in High Command. Not to mention the fave that one Ren had fathered the Emperor’s children and had them married him. The Knights of Ren were an extremely influential group in the First Order. He had orders to report to a “Harnan Ren”. He had no idea what sort of man he was, though the reputation of his WHAP Legion preceded them. Especially their choice of ship art for their landing craft. However, he could overlook this, as the Supreme Commander’s Sister, was, in his rather uncivilized words, extremely hot. Walking through several dimly lit corridors, he eventually arrived at a massive golden door. Assuming this was where he was supposed to go, he was shown in by the two soldiers outside the door. And there, across the tiled floor, flanked by several massive pillars, was Harnan Ren. Stepping forward to the part of the room usually used to speak from, he addressed the man. He liked the look of this Ren, though time would tell if his personality would match his appearance.
“Lord Harnan, I requested a transfer to serve as aide-de-camp under one of the Knights of Ren. Captain Vermeil Cannady, reporting for duty.”
He bowed before him as a sign of respect, unsure of what the common gesture was amongst this group for showing respect to a superior.

Vermeil bit his lip beneath his crimson helmet. He had been hoping that he wouldn't have to explain this to his new commander, in the interest of not creating an awkward tension, but he did suppose the man had a right to know. Besides, it was not as though he could hold back the information even if he wanted to. He was required to disclose the full truth if a superior officer asked. This man was more perceptive than the idiots he had served under all put together. Clearly, he held himself accountable to a high enough degree that he admitted the flaws of himself and his order.
"The truth sir? I made an... inappropriate remark about First Commissar Delvardus."
Azria had found out by way of some naval officer. The officer in question was exactly what Captain Cannady would expect. A man with a snivelling, holier-than-thou personality, hoping to earn favor from the First Comissae. Men like that wouldn’t last two seconds in a fight, Cannady reckoned. Had he been under his command, he would have paid him a little visit to set him straight. That didn’t change the fact that most officers frowned on such behaviour, and would generally make the person who made such a comment’s life hell. He hoped that the man that sat before him wouldn't be to angered by this, as he, even behind the armor, looked as though he could rip him to shreds at any moment. Though Cannady was confident that he could hold his own against all opponents, Force Sensitives were a bit too much even for him.

Cannady remained still, looking straight at Harnan’s mask, projecting an air of being unfazed by the massive man in front of him. In truth, however, he knew nothing would come of this. Harnan seemed to be amused by the fact that he had made comments about the First Commissar’s... physical appearance. His voice had a certain mechanical degree to it, which, again, would serve well in terrifying Officers, but would do little to scare the Captain. He had stared death in the face more than once, he knew that being afraid would only hasten his death. No, instead he stood firmly, not intimidated.
“Sir, if I may be so frank, I know what sort of reputation you and the Knights of Ren carry amongst the Stormtrooper Corps. Particularly about the... survivability rates of your soldiers.”
Clearly, the man in front of him valued resolve in his soldiers. Cannady was playing a dangerous game here, as he knew with one hand motion, Harnan Ren could end his career permanently. Clearly, however, the man appreciated someone who would not break in the face of adversity or a terrifying opponent.

Cannady couldn’t help but smirk under the helmet. He knew that most stormtroopers dreaded being assigned here. Feared for their life. But he didn’t. As a matter of fact, he was looking forward to the challenge. The First Order’s standard work had not been particularly... stimulating to him. He understood danger better than any of the other children in the First Order. He even felt that the Supreme Commander was too green to be leading an organization like this. Few had expirienced true hardship. Not like him. And apparently, not like Harnan Ren.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from a commander if they were to earn my respect as leader. The weak aren’t fit to even be called slaves.”
He had been exposed to a brutal regimen on Kamino, his masters caring little for him. It was a mentality he carried with himself to this day. The weak weren’t fit to serve in his mind, even slaves had more value then those who fell in combat. It was through this crucible by which he had forged his men into an efficient fighting machine.

Matching Harnan’s stare, he too looked into Harnan’s visor. Trying to figure out whether he was speaking the truth. He was unsure what sort of assignment he would recieve, hopefully something good. He was unsure what combat the Ren were currently engaged in, but hopefully he was assigned to somehwhere where he could show his skill in full form. Tossing him right into the fire, as some would say. The man before him seemed to be willing to do just that.
“I am, Lord Harnan.”

“Yes, my lord. I have a shuttle on standby whenever you are ready to leave.”

Vermeil saluted before he walked out of the room, taking no care to not disturb any of the officers as he walked out. As he did, he pondered why they would be going to Taris. It was a heavily Imperialized system, with people believing in the Empire. Wrongfully so, but the fact was that they would never rebel against the First Order, a testament to their loyalty, if nothing else. He shrugged it off. They’d find out when they got there, and if this was a trap, they could just as easily fight their way out. He made a brief stop at the armory of the tower, cleaned his weapon for the third time that day, took some grenades, much to the chagrin of the quartermaster, who was adamant he go through the proper release procedures. He would have loved to put a blaster shot in the idiot’s forehead right then and there, but there was no point in angering his new boss, as he could probably very easily rip his aorta out. He checked that he had all the necessary equipment before he headed into his new quarters, quickly dumped all of his spare things in a messy pile onto the black floor, promising himself that he’d come back to it later, with little hope that he actually would, before he made his way back to his shuttle to wait for Harnan to be ready to leave.