Alone In The Galaxy

by Purple Patch


Life on a Star Destroyer

Pipsqueak had never imagined he’d ever meet humans before. He’d read the old scriptures and stories of humans seen in the Flutter Valley, said to be Avatars of Happiness and Prophets of Harmony. But he’d never imagined them so tall.
Then again, Pipsqueak had always been a very small pony, young as he was. Most believed he simply hadn’t hit his growth spurt but there were certain hints to some disorder his mother never let him hear about.
But here, he felt smaller than ever.
Parisian Froul had walked ahead to inform the squad of what was presently taking place. It would help to have those around prepared for the sight of the small pony on their ship.
As Pipsqueak and Rae Sloane paced down the corridors of the Hellfire, he took in every sight.
Unlike most Star Destroyers, the Hellfire was light silver in colour and streaked with the royal crimson here and there in stripes and symbols down the walls and frames. Equipped with state-of-the-art equipment and utilities, Moff Glandon Froul was said to have forced himself on a frugal life to pay for the Hellfire’s full upgrade. Now the Star Destroyer was the pride of Cyrillia and a testament to the Froul family’s dedication and loyalty.
Sloane felt almost at home walking its expanse.
“So where are we going first?” Pipsqueak asked, somewhat chirpier.
“Well, first I just need to change in my suit at the armoury.” Rae answered “Leaving your armour unattended is three weeks fatigues and a mark on your record.” They stopped by a large door. The women’s armoury.
Not many women served on the Hellfire but it was certainly more women than on most Star Destroyers. Glandon Froul, unlike some notable members of Imperial leadership, did not separate merit and loyalty based on gender or even species. There were a few aliens serving on the Hellfire, though one was unlikely to count them on more than two hands.
But the Empire was still young and Froul was well on the way to the role of Grand Moff.
Then, Rae thought, they’d see some real changes.
Opening the door and removing her helmet, Rae turned to the colt with an awkward smile.
“Sorry, Pip. Women-Only Room. Would you mind waiting just outside here a moment? I’ll only be a minute. Just yell if there’s any trouble.”
“Righto.” Pip said as Rae disappeared, the door whisking shut in front of him in an instant.
He gazed at the door’s workings. Never before had he seen doors that operated quite like this.
Perhaps somewhere in the Princess’s Palace, he thought, there may have been doors that simply flew open on a whim.


Just then, he gave a jump as a similar whisking sound came from behind him. Turning round, he saw a figure step out of what must have been the men’s armoury and turn his gaze to him.
Pip stared.
It was as if his body and all within it slowly but surely grew drastically colder as he looked up at the man before him.
This was definitely no human.
The figure was dressed in an ornate white suit with a shiny black belt and gloves, a pair of gleaming, golden straps over his shoulders and a small pad of blue, yellow and red tiles over his right torso.
His black hair was cut short and combed neatly over his head.
But his face was the most alarming feature.
The figure had skin that was bright blue.
And eyes that positively glowed a deep blood-red.
Eyes he saw were looking directly at him.
With a cold, emotionless face, his age impossible to determine, he slowly paced over towards him, every step, though light, appeared to hammer on the floor, drumbeats of doom matched in volume by Pip’s heartbeat as he took a step back, feeling the cold wall of the Hellfire against him.
Just as slowly, the figure knelt down, tilted his head slightly and spoke, his voice eerily monotonous, chilling the colt to the core before he properly processed the words the man spoke.
“Are you lost?”
“N-n-n-no...” Pipsqueak found himself stuttering “I-I-I’m just...waiting...”
“I see” He tilted his head the other side “May I ask what or whom it is you are waiting for?”
“Um...Miss...Sloane...”
“Oh course. I am glad to hear it.”
There was nothing in his tone other than a sense of due courtesy. Yet Pipsqueak was finding it difficult to believe this man, or whatever it was, was asking out of a genuine sense of concern for him.
There was no hint of compassion in his blood-red eyes. It was all an ice-cold maze.


Another whistle came from behind him as the doors to the women’s armoury opened and Rae Sloane emerged, jumping at the sight of the newcomer.
Pip looked up towards her, the look on his face screaming panic and confusion.
As the blue man stood up and faced her, Rae Sloane saluted.
“Ahem...Admiral Thrawn.” she said briskly “I assume you knew about my new companion.”
The blue man’s lip tugged upwards slightly. Pip wasn’t sure if it could really be called a smile.
“Lieutenant. You ought to know by now that I rarely ever fail to know about anything.” he gave a small bow, his arms behind his back “Exceptional work on Umbara, if I may say. You do the Moff and the Empire proud.”
“Thank you, sir. I am honoured.”
Pip looked at her. She did genuinely seem honoured. There was the bashful hope about her of the praise she’d received. As to whether she felt comfortable was another story.
“And a most daring rescue of your young companion. Vixi are hazardous beasts, it takes great skill in dealing with them.”
Rae looked about instinctively.
“I...wasn’t aware they knew about that."
“I hear you shall be joining us for the Grand Moff’s Senatorial dinner at the Command Post tomorrow.” The man named Thrawn continued in his impassive manner.
“I shall, sir.”
“I am very glad to hear it. I shall look forward to your company.”
Rae Sloane’s legs felt shaky. She was still uncertain whether or not she’d died on Umbara and had entered some bizarre plain of illusions and nonsense.
First a talking little pony had wandered into her life.
Then this news of a different dimension.
And now, right before her, she was receiving compliments from Admiral Thrawn.


“Thank you, sir. You too, sir.” She felt the need to change the subject “I hope you’ve found your time on the Hellfire pleasant.”
“Indeed, lieutenant. This is a very well-kept ship. At the moment, however, General Veers has asked that I spar with him in the boxing ring.”
“R-really?” This day just got stranger and stranger “I...wasn’t aware that was an...area of yours. I thought you’d find it somewhat...crude”
“Oh, on the contrary, lieutenant.” Thrawn said earnestly “I find the experience quite invigorating. And Veers, the academy champion, promises me a formidable fight. I have asked that he take note of any mistakes I make in our match so that I shall emerge enlightened. I hear you have boxed before.”
“Y-yeah...I’ve never won the belt but I like to think I’m...pretty good.”
“I do not doubt it.” he turned his gaze back to Pipsqueak “And how is Pipsqueak?”
Rae knew it was pointless to ask how he knew the colt’s name. She picked up the little pony and held him up like a baby as he stared perplexed at Admiral Thrawn.
“Pip’s fine. I’m showing him round.” she gave him an awkward smile “This is Admiral Thrawn, Pip. He’s very famous. Say hi to the admiral, Pip.”
Pip managed to speak at last.
“I didn’t know humans went blue.”
“Oh...Oh, he’s not a human.” Rae mumbled, hoping Thrawn wouldn’t take offence “Well...he’s Near-Human. Sorry, Admiral, I don’t think Pip’s ever...met a Chiss before.”
“A Chiss? You mean...” Pip searched for the words “He’s an...alien?”
“Well, it’s not really correct to say that. S-sorry, Admiral.” Rae stammered an apology to which Thrawn gently held up a hand.
“Not at all, Lieutenant. I am an alien. In this case, I am a denizen originating from a planet far away from my current area of standing, the basic definition of ‘alien’. Please, allow me to clarify.” he turned to Pip and placed a hand over his chest in greeting.
“I am Thrawn. That is what you may call me. My real name is quite long and...rather difficult for others to pronounce. I am a Chiss from the planet Csilla in the Unknown Regions. Formerly of the Chiss Ascendency, the planetary armed forces. I do not blame you for not knowing of our kind. We are a...very secluded people.” he looked at the boy sincerely “I hope you haven’t been unduly troubled by your predicament.”
“N-no, sir.” Pip said quietly “Miss Sloane’s taking very good care of me.”
“Of course.” With a slow nod, Thrawn looked down the corridor and cleared his throat.
“I am thankful I could converse with you, Lieutenant, Master Pipsqueak, but I believe duty calls.”
“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.”
And with that, Thrawn turned on his heels and was gone.
Rae Sloane breathed a weighty sigh and looked down at Pip.
“You okay, kid?” she asked, putting him back down on his hooves.
“Yeah...” he answered quietly “Sorry I panicked.”
“Hey, don’t worry, Pip. Everyone panics when Thrawn’s around.”
“I could feel his eyes.” the colt whispered, sweat beading down his brow “I could feel him looking into my head.”
“I know...That’s what he does.” Rae placed a gentle hand about his forehead and smiled warmly “It’s okay. He’s not gonna’ hurt you. Come on. I’ll show you to the team.”


Parisian Froul greeted them at the mess hall and walked them to the tables where a gaggle of stormtroopers sat without their helmets. Her platoon. Ironically, introducing Pip to them would probably be the best chance to get to know them herself.
Parjai wasn’t there. He was rarely seen in the casual company of others.
And whoever the Dusk Trooper was, there was no sign of him.
Four belonged to alien-species, more aliens than any other platoon. It was this that had gotten her troops nicknamed the Patchwork Platoon by those who mocked her behind her back. But she didn’t let it get to her. She appreciated all her soldiers, whomever and whatever they were.
The first of these aliens was an elderly Neimoidian with a noseless, grey-green face and sad-looking, amber eyes. Lume Tuuk, the platoon medic. Unlike the Neimoidians who’d headed both the Trade Federation and the species’ stereotype as greedy, conniving snivellers, Lume Tuuk was a solemn, patient and dutiful philosopher who’d saved more lives than he’d taken over his time in the Naval forces.
The second was a flamboyant Zeltron, bright-red near-humans, with a shock of dark-blue hair running down his scalp, his lips painted bright-navy as he toyed with a throwing-knife. His name escaped Rae but she knew him to be a sniper and something of a seducer. Whether he preferred men, women or both depended on whom one asked.
And that left a pair of Rattataki sisters with bleached-blonde hair and bone-white faces with stripes and dots of tattoos all over. Their names were Naz’jata and Haz’jara. They worked as the platoon’s interrogators and were in love with torture as much as they were with each other.
The rest were human. Rae had hand-picked each one personally but, in truth, all she’d really paid attention to was how well they coped in a battle situation. Seeing each one helmless and casual was almost enlightening.
So many different colours, shapes or ages about them.
Yet they were all brothers and sisters in arms.
Rae sat down and smiled.
She knew this was what the Empire needed to be.
Her platoon was her Empire.


“There’s the little tyke. How you doin’, sonny?” Sergeant Denwarren, broad-faced, close-cropped hair and stubbled jaw, gave a smile to Pipsqueak and ruffled his mane as Rae sat him down on the table.
“I’m alright, thanks.” Pip gave a smile “So these are all your friends?”
“Yep. My platoon.” Rae stood up and gave a mild but immediate command.
“Troopers. Make our new companion feel at home.” She looked about and decided “I thought, until we can get him home, he’d be kept under our protection as the mascot for our platoon.”
“Ha! I like it. A patch-coated pony for Patchwork Platoon. This’ll stick to ‘em. Glad to have you on the team, small-fry.” The sergeant took Pip by the hoof and shook as if it were a hand, feeling a little awkward while doing so, as he introduced himself.
“Sergeant Culic Denwarren. Born on Ganthel, same as the Lieutenant here. Joined the force when I found mining a pain in the ass, which it was and I got the welts to prove it.”
“Yes, thank you, Sergeant, too much information.” Rae said flatly as the trooper next to Culic introduced herself and the one after that and on and on it went.
Rae got to know them just as well as Pipsqueak. The blonde woman, the red-haired boy, the man with the booster-scars, the girl whose parents sold her, the fellow who’d been raised by Trandoshans, the list went on.
She sat and listened, intrigued. She found herself thinking back to when she was first placed in a platoon.
She’d lost troopers before.
How many had been there at the beginning and had stayed with her up to now?
How many soldiers had she sent to their deaths without ever seeing their faces?


“Lieutenant?” Parisian cleared his throat, standing at the end of the table.
“Of course, how could we forget Junior, our new corporal?” Culic chuckled heartily.
“We’ve already met. My name is Parisian Froul.” he said, annoyance in his voice.
“We call him Junior.” Culic whispered, his fellows smothering laughter.
“No, you don’t. Don’t call me Junior!” the young man snapped, before turning to his officer.
“Lieutenant, my grandfa-ahem...the Grand Moff wishes to speak to both of us. Admiral Yularen and Moff Delian Mors are asking to speak to you personally.”
“Me?” Rae shook her head.
If she remained a lieutenant by the end of the year, then something was badly wrong with the Imperial merit system.
“Okay, Pip. Come with us. They won’t mind.”
“Here, we’re going the same way. The route to the Grand Moff’s office goes by the boxing ring. I don’t want to miss Big Max beat the stuffing out of Thrawn!”
“I’m not sure.” Lume Tuuk said uncertainly “Personally, I think Thrawn will have the better of it.”
“That’s ‘cause you’ve never seen Veers in the ring.” Culic guffawed “Mark my words, he’s gonna’ leave a big blue stain across the floor when that bell rings!”
The platoon followed Rae and Parisian as they exited the mess hall, travelled through one of the hangers and entered the stadium.


The stadium was a modest but expansive ring of rubber-like, semi-flexible force field. Surrounding it were rows of seats and a few VIP boxes. Rae and Parisian made their way through a throng of cheering troopers, Culic and the others eagerly racing down to join their chant, as Pip watched in awe.
Two titans battled it out in the ring.
Both of them were dressed only in black vests, dark grey combat pants and sponge-like strapping over their knuckles as they faced each other, throwing punches hard and fast.
One of them was Thrawn, the blue man from earlier.
The other was a strapping, square-jawed middle-aged man with short dark-blonde hair, piercing grey eyes and a face that clearly said he was well at-home in the ring.
Pip gasped as the man lunged forward and threw a set of ferocious punches. Holding up his arms in a block, Thrawn ducked and weaved, letting the punches brush his sides, before seizing his chance, grabbing an outstretched arm, pulling him forward and delivering a fierce uppercut, before kicking out at the shins, tripping his opponent.
As the blonde man fell, Thrawn stood over and prepared to land a finishing blow. Pip fought the urge to shut his eyes.
There came a roar from the crowd as the man craned his neck to the side, dodging the punch before pushing at Thrawn’s shoulder with his free hand, and his arm with his shoulder, throwing Thrawn with the full weight of his body at the force-field. Bouncing back disorientated, Thrawn raised his arms but just missed his cue as the man laid a breathtaking punch to the Chiss’s solar plexus, fist like a hammer, taking Thrawn clean off his feet.
Rae sucked her teeth at the sight. Thrawn however, was not beaten yet. Getting to his feet, and landing in a deft cut to the side of the man’s jaw, he stood up and retook his stance. His opponent wiped his mouth and gave an exhilarated bray of laughter, enjoyment and excitement gleaming in his grey eyes as Thrawn himself gave an impressed smile.
“Golly...” Pip whispered, eyes wide with awe.


“Thrawn’s pretty good in the ring, I gotta’ admit.” Rae chuckled.
“Who’s the big man he’s fighting?” The colt asked.
Parisian Froul gazed with wonder at Thrawn’s opponent and spoke proudly, as if giving a lecture, something Rae noticed he was fond of doing.
“That big man, young Pip, is General Maximilian Veers, head of our Armoured Assault Corps, founded it in fact, one of our boldest and bravest commanders. So much so that on Jabiim and several other planets he is credited to have virtually conquered in the Empire’s name they call him ‘Krayt-Dragon Max’ both for his valour and for his ferocity.”
He pawed at one of his pockets “I have here a copy of ‘The Thunderous March’, his memoirs of his service, a compendium of his strategies and deeds in the field.” He gave Veers a giddy look “I’m just hoping I can get him to sign it.”
“Wow...you know an awful lot about this.” Pip said, finding it all a lot to take in.
“It helps to. Back at the academy, We always read the memoirs of Veers and Yularen, Parck, Coburn, Kilian and Doriana. I love Doriana’s work...” he sighed “That ploy with C’Baoth and the Vagaari was a masterpiece! I hope to meet him one day but he rarely leaves the Emperor’s side”
“Right, right...” Pip knew little of what Parisian was going on about “So where are we going now?”
“We’re meeting my grandfather and two very good friends of his. Don’t worry, we’ll do the talking.” Parisian answered, catching a glance over his shoulder at the ring and wincing “Ooh! That looked like it hurt! But Thrawn’s still getting right back up, it’s incredible.” He turned to Rae “Haven’t you been in the ring before, Lieutenant?”
“Oh yeah.” The woman chuckled “I’ve seen my fair share. I do pretty well, all things considered. Like back at the academy. Eitel, Admiral Motti’s nephew, he was pushing everyone around but I knocked him flat on his ass.” She cracked a wicked smile “And Myles Grint, that big lug, he didn’t last ten seconds.”
“Didn’t Moff Mors once get you and Captain Daala to fight in the ring, Lieutenant? In the celebration after Or Tuma?”
“Yeah, well...” Rae shrugged “Just cause Natasi’s pretty cute, doesn’t mean she can’t put up a fight.”
“But...is it true Mors made the two of you strip after the intermission?”
Rae shot him a stone-cold look of severity.
“That information is classified, Corporal. And I’d advise it to remain that way.”
“Yes, sir.” he said briskly as they approached Moff Froul’s quarters.


Glandon Froul’s chamber was expansive, enough for several officers to converse, with seats and settees, but was nonetheless modest, without any of the finery most Moffs were famous for. Only work-related utilities and items were kept in the room, the only exception being a large portrait behind his desk.
The portrait consisted of himself, rather less grey than he was now; an infant Parisian, wide-eyed and beaming, in the grey uniform of an academy first-year; and a young man in a shiny, jet-black uniform. The young man rather resembled the now-grown Parisian but broader, more muscular, more confident, and possessed of a trim moustache and beard, his hand on the boy’s shoulder as he looked out from the portrait with pride.
Menken Froul, Glandon’s son and Parisian’s father.
Glandon Froul himself stood speaking to another man as old as he must have been with thinning grey hair and a moustache, dressed in the same white uniform as Admiral Thrawn. The two of them were laughing and regaling of whatever ‘Malastare Narrows’ was, complimenting each other on their deeds against the ‘infamous Trench’.
There was another human in the room. A pale-skinned woman in what may have been her mid-forties. She was rather chunky in the curves, reminding Pip of Mrs Cake, but still remaining quite attractive, though her makeup was slightly obvious. Her dark-auburn hair was tied up in a jewelled net and her grey uniform was decorated by a fur coat hanging over her shoulders. This combined with her monocle on her right eye made her stand out in any crowd. She was reclining idly on a settee, twiddling with a cigarette in its holder and sipping a cocktail.
She was not alone. Pip stared with a mixture of curiosity and disturbance as three alien girls, each with a pair of long, trailing tentacles out the top of their heads and sloping down their shoulders, waited on her. The girls were all very shapely and of very different and very vibrant colours that instantly reminded Pip of the ponies back home. The cyan one was massaging the woman’s neck, the chestnut-brown one was refilling her cocktail glass and the dark-magenta one was on her knees in front of her, playing a bizarre instrument, pausing now and again to lift the woman’s foot out of her shoe and kiss the slope of it.
Rae rolled her eyes at the sight.
Moff Delian Mors and her Twi’lek maids looked the very picture of the hedonistic nature she was famous for.


As the door closed behind them, those in the chamber turned to address those who had entered.
First to speak was Mors who leapt to her feet with an exuberant bray of laughter as she trotted giddily over to Rae.
“My dear Miss Sloane!” she hugged her primly, either more drunk than she was letting on or clearly fond of her “It’s been so long! Go on, give us a kiss.”
Slightly uncomfortable, Rae obediently gave the Moff a peck on the cheek. Delian gave her a faux-sulk.
“Only the cheeks for poor old Deli? Come now, my dear girl, you can do better than that.” Before Rae could object, the woman pulled her close and kissed her full on the lips before turning away to Parisian just as quickly, leaving Rae feeling weak at the knees and thoroughly embarrassed.
“Parisian, you darling little thing!” Mors grabbed him by the ears and planted a wet kiss on each cheek “You are growing simply far too quickly, I’ve told your grandfather. You must come down to Ryloth some time before you get any older.” She gave him a wicked smirk “Ask any of my girls, Ryloth’s where they know how to really make a man out of you! Ha-ha!” She threw her head back in a hearty whoop of laughter as she gave the young man a playful slap on the backside. Parisian jumped with a slight shriek. Out of sight, Pip watched the chaos unfold.
He wondered if this woman had ever met Pinkie Pie.
“Ms Mors, please! Control yourself.” Glandon gave a stern command.
Mrs Mors, Glandon, if you please.” Delian gave the pair a wry glance and made way for the other old man who approached Parisian with a warm smile and a handshake.
“Is it really you, Parisian? My goodness.” he shook his head “Look at you. Delian’s right, you’ve grown so fast. Heh, shame on you, boy. You make me feel old.” All those in the room indulged in some laughter.
“Uncle Wullf. It’s so good to see you again!” the boy said with glee, turning to the colt hiding behind Sloane’s legs “Pip, this is Admiral Wullf Yularen, senior secretary of Imperial Security, hero of a thousand battles and a lifelong family friend.”
Pip looked up at the man and offered a hoof and addressed him in the way his mother had always told him.
“Good day, sir, very pleased to meet you.”
“Delighted, dear boy.” Yularen shook his hoof “Not to worry, Glandon’s told me all. I’ll say this though, you’re a strong lad to survive Umbara on your own. I barely survived myself last time I visited that dreadful place.”
Parisian nodded and turned to the women in the room. Rae noticed he was struggling not to eye the three Twi’leks.
“And this is...ah...Morf Moss...er...Moff Mors. Delian Mors, Moff of Ryloth, planet of the Twi’leks...And her...lovely assistants.”
“They have names, dear.” Mors said as she pointed to each one “Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.”
With another whoop of laughter, she peered at Pipsqueak.


The woman slightly unnerved him but she didn’t seem too harmful.
Pip had never really been a very loud pony. Pinkie’s parties and wild antics tended to unnerve him and it was only thanks to Dinky’s soothing presence that he managed to endure them.
“Ahem...good day, madam, very pleased to meet you.”
“So is this...Oh, how sweet!” Mors gave another delighted cry as she bent down to coo over the colt who stared up at her, slightly nervously “Come over here, little one, it’s alright. I don’t bite. Ask the girls.”
“Um...Rae?” Pip looked up at his guardian who gave him a half-smile of reassurance.
“Don’t worry, Pip. You’re quite safe here.” Sitting down, Rae addressed the group.
“With your kind permission, I’ve taken on Pip here as my platoon’s mascot. I feel this’ll keep him safe and endear him to our fellows.”
“I don’t see why not.” Glandon gave a nod as Pipsqueak was taken up by Delian Mors.
“Look at you, you little diddums! Look at his little baby-face. Aren’t you just a treasure?!” She nuzzled him fondly and Pip found himself giggling as the Twi’lek girls gave squeals of delight, fighting to pet him as he rolled around, tickled and ruffled, laughing all the while.
“Hey, looks like you’re a hit with the ladies, Pip!” Rae chuckled.
“Lucky nerf-herder.” Parisian muttered with envy.
“My good ladies, if we may direct ourselves to the matter at hand.” Glandon Froul said, Yularen giving a nod.
Mors gave a sigh.
“All work and no play with you two old curmudgeons. Righto, bums on seats, lassies, let’s hear it.” She sat back down as Glandon switched on the holoprojector in the middle of the room.
An image of Guulmoth Deechi’s face appeared alongside several others. Pip looked at the assortment. Faces and figures like he’d never seen, aliens of all shapes and sizes.
He’d have a few ideas for Tungsten’s Ogres and Oubliettes Club when he got back.


“Guulmoth Deechi’s ties to the former Confederacy of Independent Systems were deeper-set than we had previously assumed.” Glandon explained “Though, as we all know, their core leadership was annihilated by Lord Vader on Mustafar bare moments before the Declaration of a New Order, and their battle droid armies largely deactivated, some of their leading figures still remain, using their remaining credit legacies to gain land and armies in the Outer Rim and hold out against the Empire as they did for the Republic. This, it goes without saying, cannot be allowed to continue. If these individuals are allowed to freely carve out criminal empires of their own, restoring law and order to the Outer Rim will become almost impossible. The Hutt cartels can be reasoned with but these fugitives are not reliable. Locating and destroying these holdouts are therefore, at this moment, our top priority.”
Pip watched as the glowing blue hologram focussed on a bizarre creature. It was like a slug from the waist down, one trailing tentacle serving as a single foot, but furry, possessed of an arching back, a gigantic belly and breast, a pair of short-flabby arms and a huge, bulky head that was almost equine with small eyes, a fleshy bat-like nose, a gigantic mouth and three goatees. It wore a gaudy black and umber dress and veil studded with silver inlays and stared emotionlessly out of the screen.
“Toonbuck Toora” Yularen named her “Senator of Sy Myrth before the Separatist Crisis, brought her planet into the Confederacy at the turn of the Clone Wars. Corrupt, self-seeking and utterly without scruples, she is evidently unwilling to give up her accumulated power and resources. She will resort to anything and everything to accomplish her goals. She has accumulated a vast army of pirates, raiders and mercenaries to her organisation and is bringing other Separatists like her, along with their resources, into the fold. She has refused all Imperial negotiations and when we sent ambassadors she returned only their heads. A conflict with the Empire is clearly in her mindset and we must eliminate her before she can begin.”
“So what do you propose?” Rae asked.
Glandon switched the holoprojector to focus on an Ishi Tib. Pip stared with bafflement at the squat, green creature with its eyes on stalks and parrot-like beak.
“This is Gume Saam, formerly the Senator of Tibrin. He was connected to the Intergalactic Banking Clan but disappeared before its compromise. We know for certain he is in contact with Toora. He will tell us what we need to know about the Confederacy’s assets. But where he has taken root is a mystery. We have confirmed he has not returned to his home planet since his disappearance.”
Rae caught on.
“That’s why Grand Moff Tarkin’s meeting with the Senators?”
“Indeed, Miss Sloane. The Senators present are all that remains of those we know still support the Emperor and have been offered sizable retirement packages in return for liberal Imperial supervision on their systems.” Yularen explained “We know some of them previously had relations with Senator Saam before his disappearance, either as friends or rivals. They will agree to give us any information they can. They don’t wish to be linked to someone who’s made themselves such an obvious enemy of the Empire, it will threaten their finances.”
“Among other things.” Rae added.
“Well, quite.” Glandon continued “With this Delegation of 2000 already proving themselves an outspoken threat to the Empire, those remaining in our favour will do everything they possibly can to shake off any sign of treachery. They will give us something to work with, I guarantee it. When they do, Miss Sloane,” he stood up “I am entrusting you to find it.”
“Me, sir?”
“Yes. I have word that your Captain Feanor Rondel will return from Balmorra soon after Tarkin meets with the Senators. He will lead the mission. But your recent exploits will make you suited to the forefront of this operation. Needless to say, you will be given proper briefing closer to the deployment.” He sighed and tugged at his uniform “Now, we must all of us prepare for dinner this evening.”
“Yes, sir. Just so long as I don’t have to sit near that bloated slug, Orn Free Taa.”
“Oh, you don’t like Senator Taa?” Mors asked with a chuckle as the office was cleared “I’ve always found him quite entertaining.”


Pip looked about.
This was certainly a lot to take in. And in such small time.
Rae and Parisian were still talking with the three leaders as they exited the chamber. All about names and events that meant nothing to him.
He’d have to find out more but his mother had always told him not to involve himself with grown-up talk without permission.
He found himself missing his mother.
Any longer...
There was a small gasp from down the corridor, like someone quietly crying.
Pip knew it wasn’t him.
Checking behind him, just so he knew Rae wasn’t too far away, he tottered on his little hooves behind the corridor.
It was one of the alien women with Delian. Though this wasn’t any of the three he’d seen before.
She was bright yellow with a mottled pattern of dark red stripes all down her body that reminded him instantly of Sunset Shimmer. And her uniform was different. While Mors’s maids had been scantily-dressed enough in their skin-light jumpsuits, this woman was wearing nothing but small metal braces around her breasts and waist, along with a metal headband that covered her ears and kept her head-tails in place. She was pressing her back flat against the wall of the ship and clutching her hands together in prayer, her eyes leaking tears as she whimpered in tiny, little gasps.
Pip looked up at her, eyes wide with sympathy.
He was never one to let a lady suffer in distress. Dinky’s father, the Doctor, had taught him that was the gentlecoltly thing to do.
“Excuse me?” he piped up “Are you alright?”


The Twi’lek jumped, staring at him a moment, eyes full of fright, before turning and running down the corridor in a gust of motion, disappearing down the corner.
Shaking his head, bewildered, Pip chased after her.
“Wait!” he cried out “Come back! I just want to talk!”
Turning round the corner, he looked round wildly.
The lady had vanished.
Frustrated and confused, he raced round the next corner.
“Oomph!”
Opening his eyes, slightly spinning, Pip realised he’d collided into someone’s legs with such speed, he’d knocked them to the floor.
“What on Delon?!” A more-than-slightly-peeved voice rang out.
“Ah...” a familiar voice sounded “I don’t believe you’ve met young Master Pipsqueak, General.”
Thrawn was standing over him, back in his clean white suit, a few small cuts and bruises over his face and lip, but no less prim and proper than he’d first appeared.
Fearfully, Pipsqueak looked at the man who was clambering to his feet.
It was General Maximilian Veers, sharing the same bumps and scratches over his features as Thrawn, dressed in a black suit like Rae’s but armoured, chest-plate, shoulder-pads and thick, sturdy boots all made up of a shiny jet-black material.
He was eying Pip with curiosity but didn’t seem angry.
“No...I haven’t...Certainly one way to make an introduction.”
Throwing himself off the man, Pip stammered apologies.
“Oh, I-I-I’m s-so sorry, sir. I w-was...I was-wasn’t looking...I-I hope I haven’t hurt you, I...”
The man began laughing as he dusted himself off.
“Settle down, old scamp, no harm done.” He knelt down and patted the colt on the shoulder “The name’s Veers, Armoured Assault Corps. Good to have you on board, young Pip, Thrawn’s told me all about you.”
“Oh...um...” Pip was struggling for breath in the commotion “Th-thank you, sir.”
“Well...This is an unexpected occurrence.” Thrawn said with what may have possibly been traces of humour “The great General Veers, unwavering and steadfast, is finally floored by the smallest living thing on this ship.”
Veers laughed again.
“Quite a turn-up, indeed! You don’t know your own strength, do you, boy!” he gave Pip a friendly tap on the shoulder with his fist that Pip still nearly fell over from “Took Thrawn here quite a bit more than that to bring me down, I tell you. Maybe you should go into the ring one day, ha!”
“Uh...I’m not sure about that...” Pipsqueak mumbled before remembering his previous goal “Um...Excuse me, sirs, but did you see a woman run past here? She was crying. An alien...the ones with Mrs Mors?”
“A Twi’lek?” Veers asked, shrugging “Can’t say that I have, old chap. Sorry.”
“I don’t believe so, Master Pipsqueak, but I shall look out for one. It is more than likely she is with Moff Mors’ entourage. I would not bother oneself unduly.”
Pip nodded, thinking back.
It did seem more than possible she’d simply shown up later.
But why was she crying?


“Pip! There you are!” Rae appeared, sighing, slightly frustrated “Damn it, kid. Don’t run off like that. You had me worried.”
“S-sorry, Rae. I saw someone crying and I...well...” Pip trailed off, twiddling his hooves shamefully.
“Not to worry, Lieutenant. Pip here was intent on aiding a lady in distress.” Veers chuckled.
“There’s been no harm done...in the long term.” Thrawn added.
“Thank you, sirs. Sorry about the commotion, he’s with me.”
“Glad to hear it. If that’s all, we’ll leave you to it.” Veers said.
Rae bent down to check on Pip before glancing back.
“Oh, before you go, General, Parisian Froul’s looking for you. He asks if you’ll be free to sign his copy of your holocron while you’re here.”
“Hm? Oh yes, Menken’s son. Perfectly fine, tell him I’ll be free to see him before landing.”
And with that, the two of them continued their stride down the corridor, conversing with one another.
With their back to them, Rae bent down and sighed.
“Pip, you’ve got to stay close, okay? It’s not safe to wander off on your own.” she ruffled his mane “Next time there’s a problem, don’t panic. Just let me know.”
“Okay, Rae, sorry, I won’t run off again.” Pip said earnestly.
“That’s all I need to hear. Now let’s get you back to the mess hall.” she reached out to scoop him up again.
Sometime soon, she’d need to find a carrier.


The whistle of the door sounded behind her.
Veers and Thrawn stopped dead in their tracks outside the doorway, slowly pacing back to allow someone to walk in.
“Grand Moff Crodd.” Thrawn said slowly.
Rae froze. Pip looked up and saw what could only be described as dread in her eyes.
Looking over her, he saw a thick-set man with a jowly, ruddy face, untidy blonde hair and small, cruel eyes fixed on the two officers.
He was joined by a wizened, old man in a red gown that swallowed up most of his body.
“Vizier Pestage.” Veers added.
“Thrawn and Veers.” The man named Crodd said slowly, menace in his voice “What treasons are you two hatching this afternoon.”
“Treasons, sir?” Veers bristled “I’ll not even dignify that with a response. What’s your business here on the Hellfire? Where’s your Tartarus?
‘Tartarus?’ Pipsqueak’s eyes pricked ‘They have a Tartarus?’
“High above all, as ever. I wished to pay a visit to some old...acquaintances.” his eyes moved and widened obscenely as he caught sight of Lieutenant Sloane who was still bent down in the middle of picking up Pipsqueak.
“Well now, this is a welcome sight indeed.” he chortled in an unsavoury fashion, leering at the woman who spun round to face them, eyes blazing with a scowl on her face as she faced a man she loathed without equal.
Vizier Pestage gave a reedy cackle.
“Frolicking in the corridors, are we? I’m hardly surprised by the woman, but Veers? What would your wife, say?”
“Oh, please act your age, Vizier.” Thrawn said tiredly.
“Careful, Thrawn. You ask him to do that, he’ll probably die.” Veers said cheekily, prompting a chuckle from Rae, a small smile from Thrawn and prominent scowls from Pestage and Crodd.
“Get about your business, General, immediately, and I shall forget your insolence.” he snarled. The two officers looked to Rae, who gave them a nod, before departing down the corridor, leaving her and Pipsqueak with Crodd and Pestage, who were being joined by an assortment of guards and attendants. Beside Pestage was Ars Dangor, the squat, old advisor she’d seen on Umbara, and Burr Nolyds, a preening Imperial Councillor with a pale, shrunken complexion and a flat monkey-like face. Beside Crodd was a feminine figure in a trailing black cloak revealing sneaks of dark-red armour beneath, her hood hiding her face from view.
Behind them, four Stormtroopers in sheer black armour and nightmarish, skull-like helmet designs marched in lockstep. Death Troopers.
This was Imperial Intelligence.
A name every soldier dreaded.


Crodd spoke, his fleshy lips twisting in a wavy streak of a smile.
“Well, my dear Miss Sloane. How long has it been?”
“Same amount of time as before- Not long enough.”
“Hmph! She’s a tart tongue indeed.” Burr Nolyds simpered.
“She’s a tart, full-stop.” Crodd added, ignoring the growl from Rae as he turned his gaze to Pipsqueak, who hung in the Lieutenant’s arms, trying to look brave.
“And...What’s this?”
“This is my platoon’s new mascot.” Rae said flatly “Nothing in the rulebook against that.”
“As if the platoon wasn’t ill-kept enough.” Dangor muttered to Nolyds.
“Is that right?” Pestage crooned “I heard you picked him out of Umbara.” He tutted “That will never do, he’s likely contaminated.”
“Sir, I have taken every precaution myself. It was a simple task.”
“For a simple mind.” Nolyds tittered.
Crodd looked the colt up and down.
“There’s room for a lot of improvement, Miss Sloane. And that’s my area of expertise.” He slowly cast his porcine eyes on Pipsqueak, who quaked under the gaze.
“I know you can understand me, boy.” he said slowly.
Rae made to move but the woman in the cloak was faster. Fixing a sight on her, Rae found herself rooted to the spot as Crodd continued.
“Miss Sloane here is protecting you, I hear. But if you think that makes you invincible, both of you are dead wrong. You’re a being from another world, that much is obvious, and that’s something Imperial Intelligence has had its eyes on for quite some time. And when we find what we’re looking for, we always get it...one way or another. Rest assured, we’ll be seeing each other again...very soon.”
And with that, he and his entourage pushed Rae to the side of the wall as they walked on.
Rae’s eyes followed them with abject hatred, gritting her teeth at the man who’d threatened the pair of them.
Slowly, she put Pipsqueak down, and heard his hooves rattle on the floor, shaking in fear.
She closed her eyes, tired and ill-prepared for what the future held.
This was far too much chaos over one little pony.