//------------------------------//
// A Difficult Night 
// Story: Alone In The Galaxy 
// by Purple Patch 
//------------------------------//

“How...could this...happen?”
Rae heard Yularen’s voice cracking as he paced around, his hands clasped behind his back to stop them shaking. She checked on Pip, sitting quietly in her lap, looking to the Admiral with a face of concern.
He had, by now, either overheard or worked out for himself that the thing in the box no-one was letting him see was the head of a woman people quite liked.
Quite evidently, he had little to say about the situation. Rae would honestly have worried if he had.
“Um...” he mumbled at last “Who...who is it?”
“Her name was Riyo Chuchi.” Rae answered glumly, her breathing slow “She was a Senator. A...a good one...”
“She was...one of the finest women I ever had the privilege of knowing.” Yularen said desolately “Everything she did was for the sake of peace, for the safety of her people and for the chancellor. It was...” he caught his breath “It was our intention to bring her over to our Empire to ensure lasting peace and to see her good work fulfilled...Now...”
“But...” Pipsqueak murmured, blinking wildly in confusion “Then wh-why would anyone kill her?”
“Because they’re spineless filth, that’s why!” Veers thundered, his knuckles white as he clenched his fists with fury “When I find the curs who did this, I’ll have them thrown into a compactor and crushed like the trash they are!”
“To hell with that! I’m going to lock him in a cell with a mad Doashim!” Delian Mors raged, her wampa-fur coat looking very appropriate with her bared teeth and blazing eyes.
“Veers, Mors, please don’t bellow.” Tarkin snapped as he turned to an officer looking over the box “Can you determine anything, Screed?”
The officer in question was a middle-aged man in the same white uniform as Yularen with a bald head, a turned-up nose and a cybernetic eye implant. Pip looked at the bizarre contraption with unease, the red light flashing a little as he stepped back and spoke.
“Well, it’s a grisly scene, sirs.” he answered, his voice low and oily, speaking like an undertaker, nothing but a dry courtesy in his voice “It wasn’t a clean cut. It appears Miss Chuchi’s head was taken off after multiple swings of a suitably-sturdy knife best suited for hunting or jungle-trekking, judging by the curve of the blade and slightly jagged edge. It wasn’t even properly severed. See, at the end here?” He pointed “What was left was wrenched off the neck. All of the wounds around her face were made pre-mortem, including the removal of the eye, though the holoprojector was placed afterward. The various blemishes have a range of different dates and times. It appears she was tortured...For quite some time...Until at last whoever had absconded with her...had finished their endeavour. A dreadful shame. So dies Riyo Chuchi at just twenty-one years of age.”
“Why? Why her?” Quarsh Panaka murmured, sat on the steps of the chambers, resting his head in his hands, Eeusu Estornii clutching his shoulder, no longer sobbing but streams still falling from her large sheer-black eyes.
They’d since moved out of the dining hall, the mood thoroughly soured. The senators had been asked to remain in their rooms, promised that they were quite safe, though a few had insisted on staying for the examination. The officers of note had proceeded immediately to where the unsavoury contents of the package could be examined by the head of Judicial Intelligence, Terrinald Screed.
Screed himself looked at some of the injuries and raised the brow above his single remaining eye.
“Ominous...” he mused aloud.
“What is?” Tarkin asked impatiently.
“Are you sure you want to know, Grand Moff...In the company of...” Screed waved a hand around the room and was met by Tarkin’s stern glance. Obligingly, he answered.
“Some of the injuries here, tiny little pincings and peelings...” he sucked his teeth “They are consistent with an IT-O Interrogation Droid.”
There was a pause around the room. Numerous senators cast their eyes at Tarkin and his staff, some standing up with expressions of deep suspicion.
Tarkin, tight-lipped and steely eyed, met their gazes with his usual frankness.
“Well...As we are all well-aware, we gave no such droid any such order. We had no possible reason to. So we couldn’t have been involved” he said plainly “It is painfully clear someone has commandeered one such droid, through one means or another. Such a thing is not impossible. Regardless, we shall know who and why as soon as we are all gathered. If you will all remain patient.”
Rae watched as those already gathered were quiet. Tarkin could achieve with a raised voice more than a normal could with a primed blaster.
Pip was eying the Grand Moff with a mixture of fascination and unease.
Tarkin was disappointed for certain. He had needed Pantora’s alliance and this was bound to impact poorly on that requirement.
But Pip saw little in the way of actual sympathy in the man.
If a severed head of a friend or ally was placed before Celestia, Pipsqueak had a pretty decent image in his head of how she’d react. Grief, dismay, blazing rage, the promise to carry out justice personally.
Luna, perhaps even more so.
Even the famously mild and gentle Cadence would demand those responsible to be punished severely and would certainly weep over such a cruel death dealt to one she knew.
But Tarkin just seemed concerned for his own potential losses.
He found himself mentally asking what had happened to Wilhuff Tarkin to make him so...cold.


The main door gave a whistle as a motley quartet entered. All those present stood and snapped to attention.
An old man stood in the doorway, dressed in ornate lavender and silver robes with a high collar and held a tall staff of office topped with a statue of the hooded Emperor. His balding scalp was blotchy and wrinkled, grey hair around his ears and the back of his head grown long and dry. A scraggly beard adorned his jutting chin beneath his thin, crumpled mouth. His rheumy eyes were a pale olive-green and peered about the room with concern.
From the look of such a man, one would not expect hope and respect to fill the hearts of those present.
Yet that was what they felt.
For Kinman Doriana had arrived.
The Lord of the Imperial Council had stood beside Palpatine since his earliest years. While this was normally a cause to dread or despise such people, Kinman was different.
He and Sate Pestage shared similar rank and authority but their personalities were about as similar as a Pylat Bird and a Womp Rat. Where Sate Pestage was cruel, arrogant and intolerant, hated by the populace and hating them back, Kinman Doriana was kind, humble and open-minded, credited with feats of legendary altruism and wisdom in the days of the late Republic and early Empire. While many who knew him personally were aware of his hidden cunning and fierce dedication to his service, he was for the most part a purveyor of benevolence in the Emperor’s inner circle. A peerless and effective politician, a celebrated noble of Naboo and tender-hearted father and grandfather, Kinman Doriana was regarded by the general public as one of the most beloved men in all the Empire.
And Rae considered it testament to just how unfair the galaxy could be to know the man was dying.
Kinman’s voice had grown hoarse and his cheeks sunken in his old age as Kanju’s Disease gripped at him. At just over sixty, it was surprising he’d lasted this long. Rae prayed that when the time came, Kinman would have left a lasting impact and have people he could trust ready to continue his work to make the Empire a better place for all those within.
Three others joined him.
Captain Voss Parck, one of Kinman’s closest confidantes concerning the Unknown Regions and a known acquaintance of Thrawn when he first revealed himself to the Republic. Clean and sharp, his uniform coloured a dusky indigo of Council Serviceman while on leave, he quickly noticed Thrawn in the chamber and gave a half-smile, not forgetting the atmosphere of the situation.
Ister Paddie, the former Senator of Sermeria, now a member of the Imperial Council. Dressed in a flowing robe of golden cloth and a bizarre headdress of twin bulges on either side of his head like blunted horns, he wore an expression of abject gloom, though one was pressed to remember a moment when he’d ever looked happy in his life.
And Keyrai Amedda, a beautiful Chagrian girl who claimed to be a distant niece of Grand Herald Mas Amedda, though rumour had it she was in fact his illegitimate daughter. Mas had given her to Doriana as a concubine, harem culture still practiced among the nobility of Naboo, as a means to earn his favour in the Council. Whether her ‘uncle’ had intended it or not, Kinman had treated her with cherishment and Keyrai had repaid in kind, serving as his nurse in his old age, dressing in a plain white tunic and long-coat with a case of necessary medicines and vitamins at her side.
Making their way down the chamber steps, Yularen and Panaka, the two men most familiar with the old councillor, greeted him.
“Yularen...Panaka...” Kinman wheezed, worry in his voice “I-I-I came as quickly as I could...Is it really true?”
Yularen held up a hand to calm him and answered.
“I’m...afraid so, sir.” He made way for Doriana who walked gingerly over to the box before drawing back gasping frantically, Keyrai ready on hand to steady him. Paddie cupped his mouth and groaned in dismay while Parck sucked his teeth, shaking his head.
“Oh...the poor child...” Doriana murmured “Who...who could have done this?”
“Stranger to blood, are you, Kinman?” A dry, derisive voice followed as Sate Pestage entered, followed by Crodd, Dangor, Nolyds and a few others. The vizier gave Doriana a smirk of contempt.
“Your time with aliens has taken half the man out of you.”
“And Kanju took the other half.” Crodd added, chuckling.
The mood of the room soured as Doriana glared at the pair venomously and slammed the butt of his staff loudly upon the floor.
“Silence! Both of you!” he barked, coughing a few times before continuing “Now is no appropriate time for bickering. A young woman has been horribly murdered.”
“I wish I was told it was a young alien woman. I wouldn’t have had to rush things.” Crodd retorted nonchalantly.
Doriana bristled and looked ready to use his staff as more than a symbol of authority but Tarkin interjected.
“Please assemble yourselves.” he ordered, taking care to ignore the eye of Croesus Crodd who was fixing him with a murderous glower.


A small door to the side of the chamber, leading to the supply cabinet, opened up.
Pip nearly jolted in Rae’s lap as he saw a man with the head of a fish emerge, slightly hunched and blank-eyed, dressed in a plain black coverall that left only his head, hands and feet uncovered. He was carrying a large bunch of holoprojectors in his webbed hands. He plodded forward with fin-like feet and gave Tarkin a respectful nod.
“These are all the holoprojectors in the storage, sir.” he said softly.
Tarkin gave something close to a smile to the creature.
“Thank you, Raddus.” he said “If you could place them round the table, any order’s fine.”
“Yes, sir.” The creature named Raddus set about doing so, then adjusted some buttons on its side, Terrinald Screed helping with a few of them, until the holograms of Grand Admirals, Moffs and Councillors materialised from the devices.
Wilhuff Tarkin and Kinman Doriana stood beside each other, facing Croesus Crodd and Sate Pestage, flanked by the foremost heads of the Empire, minus the Emperor and Lord Vader.
Pipsqueak and Rae Sloane watched in silence.
“Gentlemen.” Tarkin began “An incident of an alarming nature has occurred at the Senatorial Gathering on Eriadu a bare hour ago.”
“Let me guess,” one of the Grand Admirals, a short, moustached man with a thin, weasel-like face and an arrogant sneer “Did Mrs Mors run off with your niece? Or did Free Taa’s hand somehow find itself landing on one of Miss Daala’s ample buttocks?” He was met by chuckles from Crodd and Pestage and murderous glares from Delian Mors, Shayla Paige-Tarkin and Natasi Daala.
“This is neither the time nor place for mockery, Grand Admiral Il-Raz!” Tarkin snapped “The severed head of Senator Riyo Chuchi of Pantora was delivered to our table.”
“Tch! Was she the Talz-lover? Someone did us a favour!”
“Shut up!”
Yularen was staring daggers into the stunned face of a thick-set Grand Admiral with wonky-shaped ears and a furrowed brow and did not wait for him to respond.
“And stay shut up! Because this is not funny, Pitta! Riyo Chuchi was a remarkable woman and you will show her proper respect!”
As Pitta’s mouth twitched and pursed wildly, trying to muster up a response, Tarkin interjected.
“Calm yourself, Yularen. We must approach this with the necessary stability of mind. Our lack of caution is exactly the wish of whomever did this.” He held up the holoprojector, still coated crimson with blood “This was found on her. It is a message for all those who bear influence in the Empire. Therefore, sirs, we will watch and listen intently. Screed, please place this on their channels.”
“Yes, sir.” Screed fiddled with a device in his hands as Tarkin placed the holoprojector on the table and activated it.
Pip stared as the table glowed a bright electric blue and displayed an image in mid-air. He knew there must have been some form of magic that could create a similar effect but he had never seen it performed.
There was a woman, stripped and bound to a chair. She was moving weakly, her face and body scarred and bruised all over. Raising her head, those in the room noticed she was missing an eye. The one remaining was blackened and weeping, her lips dribbling scarlet. 
She murmured incomprehensibly, weeping softly and shivering all the while.
“P-P-Pana...” she choked, barely articulate “Eeu...Yul...” With a small cough, a mouthful of blood fell and spattered over her legs, her face twisting in pain.
Eeusu, Panaka, Yularen, Paddie and Doriana wore expressions of earnest grief, tears in their eyes as they beheld Riyo Chuchi’s last moments.
Pip had never seen anything more pitiable in his life.
He’d never imagined a grown woman to look so hurt and scared. He’d always thought adults were beyond that once they grew-up.


Another figure strode into view, obscured by a raised hood. He began speaking, his voice low but growly.
“Five million credits...” he said “Renovation of all living estates and properties...A permanent spot in the Imperial House of Representatives...And three cadres of Stormtrooper bodyguards...” He looked out, not at Chuchi but at the leaders gathered, addressing them as if he was speaking to them directly there and then.
“That is...what you were promised? All you noble senators? And all it would cost was your loyalty to the Republic and the freedom of everyone who trusted you.”
He took off his hood and fixed them with a hateful glare.
His mouth was obscured by a thick beard and moustache but his frown was very clear. His hair was tied in a topknot and half his face was scarred horrifically, making one eye paler than the other. He continued, louder and angrier.
“Well, you can add another promise to the list! Death! Slow, painful and well-deserved death! Your betrayal will not go unpunished! I will come for each and every one of you and if you believe your new overseers among the Moffship will protect you, I shall take great pleasure proving you wrong!”
There was a pause.
Dar Wac, the nervous green Rodian Senator, and Ainlee Teen, the oldest and fattest of the three triple-eyed Gran Senators, gave frightened gulps.
The man in the projection brushed his hair with a free hand and shook his head before continuing, in a calmer, softer tone.
“Perhaps introductions are necessary.” he held out his hands and gave a small bow.
“I am Favon Berec, Starmarshall of the Bakuran Resistance, Admiral of the Sicarius, bearer of liberty’s lasting flame and thorn in the Emperor’s side!” He paced over to Chuchi, grabbing her by the back of her hair, forcing her to stare at the projection, her wide eyes gripped by dread.
“And this...well...” He reached behind him and revealed a knife, thick-bladed and jagged as Screed had suggested, holding it high.
“This...is the fate...of all who betray the Republic!”
“Oh stars above, I can’t look!” the crested Anx Senator, Zo Howler, whimpered, turning away as the room grew silent, eyes fixed on the scene as the man calling himself Favon Berec craned his head over to whisper in his captive’s ear.
“If you have anything to say, now would be the best and only time.”
Riyo Chuchi’s breath was shaky, echoing through the projector. Closing her eyes, she managed to speak, fighting hard to keep her voice steady.
“I...I would like to feel...that I did my duty...To protect my people...To protect those I loved...” Tears ran down her eye as she stared at the onlookers “My friends...Thank you...Thank you for trusting me...Please don’t give up...Please...protect Pantora...I’m sorry...so...so...sorry...”
Around the table, Eeusu Estornii broke down with a whimper, lost in dismay. Panaka held her shoulder as he, Yularen and Doriana stared up at the young Pantoran with teary eyes, nodding as if to salute her.
Favon Berec raised one eyebrow and spoke again.
“Touching. Now, I think it’s time you answered for your betrayal, Senator. And just keep in mind...” He raised his knife “This is the kindest fate any of you will receive from me.”
Before the knife landed, Riyo Chuchi’s lips moved, a small murmur escaping them.
Favon paused.
“I’m sorry, did you say something?” he asked nonchalantly “By all means, let’s hear it.”
The prisoner’s lips raised slightly, the smallest of smiles, as she spoke.
“You’ll lose...” she said quietly.
Berec raised an eyebrow.
“Is that so?”
“Yes...People like you always do....” Riyo Chuchi’s voice was louder and clearer than ever as she made her final declaration “You’re no better than the evil you claim to fight...And you doom everyone you claim to liberate...You fight solely with fear...And that only ever gets you so far...”
There was a pause. Around the table, numerous individuals gave the doomed senator a look that may have been respect.
Berec was quiet for a moment, before nodding and speaking in a blunt, candid tone.
“Interesting theory...But to be quite frank, senator, your fear doesn’t interest me nearly so much...as your blood!”


The knife came down, burying itself into the side of Chuchi’s neck. Her eyes and mouth opened wide as she gave an agonised scream.
With a horrified gasp, Rae Sloane clasped her hand over Pipsqueak’s eyes again.
Pip gave a small scream himself, both dreading the sight yet desperately wanting to know its outcome, torn between the fear of witnessing the butchery and the fear of uncertainty of it.
However, just above Rae’s little finger, there a small gap in her grasp, just enough for him to see the bottom of the projection.
The screams had stopped as another slicing sound filled the room. Those witnessing drew back, looking either dismayed, furious or unwell.
Pipsqueak, meanwhile, stared at what little was revealed to him, unable to close his eyes no matter how much he wanted to.
The woman’s feet were still moving, twitching and jolting horribly, wrestling at the bonds that tied them to the chair-legs.
And the noise. It wasn’t a scream anymore so much a hellish series of chokes and gurgles.
Another slice, disturbingly similar to the sound of his mother’s cooking knife through a ripe tomato.
Pip finally found the strength to shut his eyes as the slicing and gurgling finally stopped.
Rae had no privilege to shield her own eyes. As the head of Riyo Chuchi was finally removed from her convulsing body and held high, Favon Berec’s face twisted into a feral snarl as he bellowed.
“Look closely, dogs of the Empire, and listen well! Your fate is sealed! I come for you! Nothing will protect you from us! Nothing! You chose to hear the Empire’s message, promising full pockets and an empty conscience! Now hear my message! I promise you blood and fear! As of this night, none of you are safe!!!”


And at last, the projection ended. Doriana fell into a gasping fit, falling to one knee, a hand over his chest as Keyrai frantically handed him a vial of medicine which he quaffed quickly and settled, breathing deeply and slowly, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief, helped to his feet by Parck. Eeusu was held tightly in Panaka’s hold, having obscured her gaze from the event as Rae had with Pip, while Yularen paced steadily over to a chair and held his head in his hands.
Even Tarkin looked more than a little unsettled.
In the confusion, Pipsqueak took a while to notice he was crying himself.
Rae took her hand of his face and looked him in the eyes. She looked just as shaken.
Perhaps it was the light, the noise or simply the fact she wasn’t holding him anymore but the little colt broke down, curling up in a tiny ball, gasping and sobbing.
“It’s okay, Pip. It’s okay...Breath...”
Delian Mors and Shayla Paige-Tarkin hurried over to Pipsqueak, patting him. Eventually, Rae picked up the sobbing foal and cradled him in her arms, gently rocking him back and forth.
“Can’t you shut that beast up?!” came a loud sneer from across the room.
“Shut your trap, Nolyds, no-one’s asking you!” Shalya snapped.
“Don’t you dare talk to me like-”
“Enough!” Tarkin barked, silencing all those present. Massaging his temples with a thumb and forefinger, he gave commands.
“Raddus...” he said to his Mon Calamari servant “I believe some...pick-me-ups are needed for those present. Could you please fetch a pitcher of water, a bottle of spirits and glasses for all of us?”
“At once, sir.” The alien bowed and departed, knowing his way around.
“Yularen.” Tarkin continued “You and Panaka are to head to Pantora and settle things with Baron Papanoida by any means necessary. He and all those who serve him must be absolutely assured that we were not responsible for this. Bless him, threaten him, put a blaster through his skull, whatever you need to do, make sure Pantora stays loyal!”
“Yes, sir.”
“I shall have the head prepared for burial.” Thrawn spoke up “I have attendants who are versed in proper protocol and an urn that will suffice.”
“Good, good, deal with it.” Tarkin waved a hand impatiently “Screed, who is the Moff of Bakura?”
“That would be Gotric Speck, sir.”
The muscles on Tarkin’s thin face were stretched with fury, his grey eyes staring icy daggers at all around him.
“Get him on the holoprojector. I wish to speak with him...Right...Now...”
Rae glanced around awkwardly, her gaze falling from Pipsqueak to Tarkin again and again.
If she left without permission, it wouldn’t go unnoticed.
But if this got any more unpleasant, she had no wish for Pip to be around.
“Do you mind if I call you Rae?”
She spun round to see Shalya standing before her, holding Pip in her arms.
“Shall I, um...take Pipsqueak to your room?” she asked “I’ve a feeling my uncle will want you stay but...I’m not sure Pip needs to see anything more.”
Rae glanced at her then at Pip.
“Would you be okay with that, Pip?”
The colt looked up, staring blankly, mumbling a small ‘mm-hmm’ in response.
“Okay...” Rae felt somewhat safe with Shayla and reached for her room card.
“No need.” Shayla held up a free hand, balancing Pip on one shoulder “You don’t need a card when you have the word ‘Tarkin’ in your name.”


*


Shayla’s grip was gentle as Pip was carried in a pair of arms. His mind a raging torrent of anxiety and horror, he barely noticed the arrival of Parisian Froul as they turned down the corridors to Rae Sloane’s chambers.
“Senator.” Parisian gave a respectful bow, his voice tinged with nervousness “I heard what happened. Is it true? About Senator Chuchi?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“My gosh, that’s...that’s horrible...” the young man shook his head “She never hurt a living soul...Was it rebels?”
“Certainly seems to be. Everyone’s in a bit of a state, poor Pipsqueak among them.”
At this, the young officer glanced at the small, silent colt, sitting blank-eyed in Shayla’s grasp.
“Are you alright, Pip?”
There was a pause as the little colt gave a muffled squeak that turned into a whimper and finally sobbed into Shayla’s arms.
“Why did he do it?!” he screamed “Why did he kill her?! Why?!”
“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay...” the young senator whispered, cradling the little pony “Corporal, I was tasked with taking her to Lieutenant Sloane’s room. If you’d please show me the way.”
“Of course.” Parisian bowed, his solemn gaze still fixed on the weeping colt.


Safely inside Rae’s room that had opened obediently for Shayla’s identification pass, the senator and the corporal sat 	Pipsqueak down on Rae’s bed. The colt was all set to curl up again before Shayla placed her hands on his cheeks.
Her hands were cold but soft, tilting his eyes towards her.
“It’s alright, Pip. We’re going to make sure nothing like this happens again, alright? The Empire’s reach is infinite and now that a threat has shown itself...It won’t be a threat for long. Nothing will happen to you, or Rae, or anyone else, I promise.”
“I...I...I’m sorry, I just...”
“It’s okay, Pip...I don’t blame you...You’ve never seen anything like that before, never needed to. It happens to us all.”
Slowly she began stroking the back of Pipsqueak’s head tenderly until his crying settled.
Parisian poured the colt a cup of water from the room’s dispenser and held it out, slightly uncertain if he was meant to simply hand it over to the colt or feed him like a pet but, strangely, Pip took the cup in his little hooves and sipped shakily.
“There...better?”
Pip had never really gotten a good look at Shayla Paige-Tarkin until now.
She was a pretty young woman with the long face, grey eyes and angular features of her uncle but with oak-brown hair falling to her shoulders somewhat scruffily, despite her elegant brooch. Her garb was benefited with a high-collar and a dress that opened at the front below the waist, showing a pair of slender legs in tight trousers and high boots.
When she smiled, it was an inspiring thing. It wasn’t like Dinky back home who, in Pip’s eyes, positively brightened up the sun with her smile. But Shayla nonetheless had a certain atmosphere about her that relaxed the mind and strengthened the heart, even in little Pipsqueak.
Glancing out the corner of his eyes, he noticed Parisian was looking upon her in a suspiciously similar way as Pipsqueak often did towards Dinky.
“Y-yeah...I think so.” Pipsqueak mumbled “Where’s Rae?”
“Lieutenant Sloane needs to wait for orders before heading back here, Pip, sad to say.” Parisian answered “Don’t worry, I know she won’t forget you.”
“Okay...” His voice was still very quiet, his eyes almost blank.
“Its okay, Pip. We’ll stay by you as long as you need.” Parisian ruffled his mane as the colt rested his head on the blanket and murmured.
“Thanks...”


*


“Transmission has been established, sir.” Screed said flatly as Grand Moff approached the holoprojector.
Rae watched as a projection of a befuddled-looking officer appeared and saluted.
“G-Grand Moff Tarkin, sir!” he exclaimed “This...this is an honour.”
“No, Commandant Nereus, it isn’t.” Tarkin snapped “I would like to speak to Moff Speck. Put him over.”
“Um...I’m awfully sorry, sir, but the Moff is very preoccupied and cannot be disturbed.” Nereus burbled.
“Don’t talk rubbish, Commandant, not unless you’ve grown tired of your rank.” the Grand Moff barked “Let me speak to the Moff immediately.”
“Y-y-yes sir.” The commandant needed nothing more than Tarkin’s stern face and sharp tongue to get him moving.
The figure of Gotric Speck appeared, a fat, feeble-looking man with a bald head and a hairy little puff of a beard on his double-chin. When the projection showed up, his uniform was barely on and a couple of Twi’lek girls were hurrying out of view. As he hurried around, buttoning his jacket and adjusting his belt, Tarkin shot him a bemused glare.
Rae bit her lip, unsure whether to laugh or cringe.
To the side of her, Sander Delvardus turned to Suadela Therbon and drew a line across his neck to which the Theelin nodded sardonically.
At last, Moff Speck saluted and spoke.
“G-G-Grand M-Moff T-T-Tarkin, how...how nice to see you. I...I was just...working on...”
Tarkin held up a hand for silence, breathed deeply through his nostrils, and spoke.
“Berec.”
“I’m sorry?”
“The name Berec. Does it ring a bell in that hollow little head of yours?”
“Um...well...I may have gone to the academy with someone named Berec...Is he the new head of sector affairs? Or perhaps...”
Tarkin slammed his raised hand on the side of the desk in irritation.
“Berec! The name of one of the most prominent leaders in the Bakuran Miner’s Revolt one year ago!”
“Ah...y-yes...I thought it sounded familiar” Speck was pale and sweating but trying to keep an innocent smile “B-But the Revolt was put down, Berec and his family were executed. What could be the problem?”
“The problem, nincompoop, is that a man carrying that name just sent me the head of someone we very much needed alive!”
There was a pause.
“Oh...” Speck murmured.
“Is that all you have to say?”
“W-Well...how...how was I to know?”
Tarkin raised his eyebrows.
“How were you to know? Are you not Moff of the sector? Do you not have control over what happens within it? This is not the Republic, Speck. Politicians can no longer do a shoddy job at keeping order and then blame it on the system!” the Grand Moff barked “You had one simple task, Speck. One!”
“F-f-forgive me, Grand Moff, I...I shall make amends, I promise.” Speck burbled fearfully “P-p-perhaps...in light of my service in putting down the Revolt, avenging your dear friend-”
He was silenced once again as Tarkin raised a hand, his piercing grey eyes boring into the projection.
“You arrogant little worm...” he hissed “You weren’t even in the star system when I avenged my dear friend. I, Romodi, Motti, Holt, Delvardus, Kaine, we avenged him...Not you...” He lowered his hand and placed it behind his back, straightening himself as the Moff of Bakura trembled, nearly on his knees as Tarkin finished his piece.
“I will be presenting note of this failure to Grand Moff Sulamar and her father tomorrow afternoon. Enjoy taking up space while you still can, Speck.” He leaned forward, growling one last insult with what could only be deep resentment.
“Nils Tennant was worth a thousand of you!”


The projection ended as Tarkin straightened his uniform and took a glass of spirits Raddus handed him.
In the silence, Sloane saluted and spoke.
“Sir, if you would wish it, we shall depart with all haste to the Bakura system and prevent any more lives being threatened by Berec’s forces.”
“You’ll do no such thing. You already have your orders.” Rae jumped as Therbon seemed to materialise behind her, her voice and face emotional “Once Toora’s dead, Froul can send you anywhere he likes but not before.”
Before Rae could reply, Tarkin turned and spoke.
“Grand Moff Therbon is right, Miss Sloane. We cannot let this predicament change our current priorities. At this stage, Toora still presents the greatest threat to Imperial security. The threat of Berec will be dealt with promptly. I am assigning Ardus Kaine to oversee the pacification of Bakura.”
“A reasonably adequate choice, Tarkin, but for true naval prowess, a Grand Admiral would be the natural choice of leadership, don’t you agree?” Pestage asked, idly checking his nails “I nominate Rufaan Tigellinus and Martio Batch to command the pacification fleet. I shall make note to the Emperor”
Two of the projections, a smug-looking ruddy-haired young man and a pasty, dull-blonde man with a nervous tick in his eye, both in clean white suits, saluted.
“And, let’s not forget the might of the Brimstone Anvil Command.” Crodd added with a superior smirk “I shall prepare my fleet. Three of my Star Destroyers have just been refuelled and will disembark when ready. I am certain the Lydian, the Ixion and the Mesothelae will make short work of these insurgents.”
“Excellent. That should suffice, don’t you agree, Tarkin?” Pestage turned a smirking face to the Grand Moff.
Tarkin seemed wary, though his expression barely changed a great deal.
“I should think so, Grand Vizier. In the meantime, I must make preparations for tomorrow. Gentlemen, ladies...” he gave a bow as Raddus turned off various equipment “I believe we shall depart. It is later than I would like. I bid you all a quiet evening.”


As officers and senators departed, Rae was tapped on the shoulder by Glandon Froul, who had been very quiet in the commotion.
“Lieutenant.” he whispered “A word.”
Rae followed Froul who was joined by Yularen, Screed, Weblin and Therbon. Pacing briskly out the meeting room and into the corridors, they stopped at Yularen’s office and entered.
A middle-aged man in a light grey uniform was waiting at a desk. His face was thin and expressionless with copper-brown hair combed back and inquisitive amber eyes. He stood and spoke.
“Good evening. Are we all assembled?”
“Indeed. Let us be seated.” Yularen said as the man approached Sloane before she sat down.
“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” he said, his courteous voice betraying nothing “Ardus Kaine, Moff of Bastion, Grand Moff Tarkin’s foremost lieutenant. Apparently I’ve just received orders for deployment.”
“Honoured, sir.” Rae felt more overwhelmed than ever before.
She’d been called into an office with no fewer than six of the most senior officers in the Empire.
This couldn’t just be a passing whim of theirs.
What was it about her they found interesting?
Kaine gave her a half-smile in much the same way Tarkin would do. She saw now why the two of them were so close.
“I confess I’m only half the soldier you are, Miss Sloane. By trade I used to be an orator. Still, at the moment, we have a pressing concern we must address to you.”
“We believe Gume Saam is still on Coruscant.” Yularen said “In our meeting earlier, we discussed this and we have since looked into every instance of Ishi Tib travelling to and from the planet. Gume Saam would have been identified yet so far he has not.”
“We are sending you on a search and capture mission, Lieutenant.” Froul continued “The Hellfire is making a stop at Coruscant for contractor details and we see a chance to turn a triviality into a victory. Find Gume Saam, capture him and bring him in for questioning.”
“I...sir...” Rae stumbled on her own words “I-It’s not that I refuse, I’m just...confused as to why you ask me. Captain Feanor Rondel is my commanding officer.”
“Captain Rondel and Lieutenant Terradoc are being sent to Muunilist.” Therbon stated “Saam’s financial account must be looked into and the Banking Clan needs to be renegotiated with.”
“I see.” Sloane brushed her ponytail awkwardly “Do I have a contact?”
“Yes, Miss Sloane. A member of Imperial Intelligence.” Yularen said “A man named Rax.”
The name rang a bell. Gallius Rax was an up-and-coming hot-shot in Imperial Special Service, said to be favoured by the Emperor himself.
Working him would prove eventful if nothing else.
“A safe rendezvous point?”
“A mechanic’s home in the middle-city. A man named Torland Storm and his family have agreed to grant you, Rax and my nephew lodging.” Froul said “Oh and, uh...I don’t think they’ll object to young Pip, of course.”
“Fair enough.” Rae nodded “I suggest, for the sake of the men’s morale, only Parisian and myself are sent to Coruscant. My men have earned their rest and I’m sure the less men I bring, the less suspicious Saam will be.”
There was a pause as the officers from one to the other.
“An unorthodox request but...I see your reasoning.” Kaine said flatly “However you are to notify us of any possible escalation in violence without hesitation. If this mission goes awry, it will not give the Emperor any conciliation to know that at least your platoon was having a lie-in while Gume Saam escaped.”
“I understand.” Rae said “I’ll take a starship and head to Coruscant tomorrow afternoon. I won’t return without Gume Saam or the workings of his conspiracy in tow.” She stood up and saluted “You have my word.”
“Excellent. Work swiftly, Lieutenant and Toora’s contacts will fall like snow on Ilum.” Weblin said “The Empire is most thankful for your selfless duty, Miss Sloane. You shall not find High Command overlooking your loyalty or, should you be successful, your capability.”
“Thank you, sirs. I shall make preparations for tomorrow.”
“Dismissed.”


As Rae left the office, she found herself barely avoiding walking straight into Grand Moff Tarkin.
She snappily saluted.
“Lieutenant.” Tarkin said flatly.
“Sir...How’s the...situation?”
“Calmed...slightly. I have assured the senators that they have nothing to fear from Berec and that Chuchi’s fate will not be shared by any of them.”
“Can we promise that, sir?”
Tarkin gave her a stern glance.
“Riyo Chuchi, while willing to negotiate with the Empire, had not yet accepted our terms. There was no-one guarding her, hence Berec’s ease in her capture and murder. The senators gathered at this meeting have all agreed to allow an Imperial garrison to be established on their estate. They are quite safe, lieutenant, I assure you, just so long as they keep their heads down and their mouths shut, which I’m sure they will.”
Before giving her time to reply, his tone grew less stern.
“You’re getting along with my niece?”
“The Senator? Yes, sir.”
He half-smiled. The ‘Tarkin’ smile as it was known around the forces.
“Good. I’m pleased to hear that. She quite admires you.”
“I...am honoured.”
“As you should be.” Tarkin put his hands behind his back and looked away from her, still talking “Shayla is a precious thing to my family. She is all that remains of my valiant uncle, Ranulph, the previous head of the Tarkin household.”
“Of the...Stark Hyperspace War?” Rae’s knowledge of the war was minimal. As a war that had been led by Jedi, the facts were still being checked and revised by the Imperial Bureaus, likely to find some evidence that the Jedi were responsible for the chaos.
“The same.” Tarkin’s brow furrowed darkly “When Valorum’s Republic chose to idiotically disband their own military, my uncle trained, supplied and equipped an army from Eriadu, out of his own pocket, and took the fight to the hordes of pirates making use of the Senate’s complacency. He died putting an end to the lawless thugs that both the Jedi and the Senate believed safe in letting run wild in the Outer Rim.”
He shook his head.
“His only daughter, Cindabelle, heavily pregnant, fell into a deep depression and her husband, Commodore Dothwold Paige, had died with her father. She did not survive giving birth.”
Rae gave him a look. The idea of the Tarkin family coping through tragedy seemed almost alien.
They were a family of iron, notorious for their ruthlessness.
What was she to say?
“I’m...terribly sorry to hear that, sir.”
“It was a...difficult year for certain.” His voice was quiet and heavy “Regardless, Shayla was now mine. I have...little experience in raising young girls. My wife tutored her on how to be a well-mannered lady, Thalassa’s only real skill. I asked my friend, Hurst Romodi, to teach her history, Nils Tennant to teach her spacecraft, Senator Ha’Nook for politics and, after a great deal of pleading from her, Veers for hand-to-hand combat. Though she would not inherit the Tarkin estate, I made sure that she would nonetheless be granted all the proper tuition to make her a worthy heir. And so she became Eriadu’s senator, at around the same age as the late Senator Amidala when she took up a similar role.”
He breathed deeply through his nostrils and actually gave a smile.
A genuine smile of affection.
“I remember once...I shall never forget. Shayla had come to visit me after I escaped Lola Sayu. She’d just had a statue of me built on Eriadu, opposite her grandfather’s, and the Senate had agreed to fund a replica outside the Coruscant Republic Garrison. She then told me it was my birthday which, in the commotion, I had rather forgotten. As we said our goodbyes in the Senate corridors, who should she run into but that smug, self-righteous Duchess Satine Kryze of pseudo-Mandalore and her snivelling cohorts.”
He curled his lip in distaste.
“As was her custom, she turned her nose up at Shayla as soon as she hears Ranulph’s name and denounces him and his family as feckless brutes and wanton tyrants. At this point, I was resisting the urge to slap the arrogant tart across the muzzle but there and then my Shayla responds with words that I could never match with any actions.” he gave what may have been a chuckle “She dressed down Satine and all who stood by her for every fault they had, a diatribe that lasted a good three minutes. It was thanks to the Tarkins that parasites like Kryze were alive to sneer at them, along with their Republic. By the end, the Duchess could do little more than leave in a huff.”
“I...am glad she honours you, sir.”
“And you, Miss Sloane.” Tarkin turned to her “One day, Shayla will inherit part of the noble Tarkin legacy, if not perhaps all of it. She trusts you in the short time she’s known you. An uncle sees these things. And a Tarkin’s trust is hard to come by and should be treasured and protected by those that receive it.” He retrieved his hands from behind his back and for a moment, Rae thought he’d put one on her shoulder. He didn’t. He simply folded his arms and nodded.
“Look out for her, Lieutenant. Consider that an order.”
“Yes, sir.” She saluted “If that is all, sir. I believe I shall head for my quarters.”
“By all means, Lieutenant...In fact...” he gave a slightly different smile as Natasi Daala gave him a sultry look from just outside the door to his own quarters “I believe we should all head for bed, it’s been...a trying day.”


*


Rae returned to her chambers to find Shayla and Parisian propped up against either side of her bed, slightly sleepily. 	Between them, Pip was curled up on the bed. Rae noticed he wasn’t asleep, his eyes were half-open. She couldn’t blame him after what he’d witnessed.
As Rae entered, the colt looked up and tottered over to hug at her leg.
Without fully realising it until it had happened, Rae picked up, held him to her chest and hugged him warmly.
“It’s okay, Pip. I’m here...I’m here.” she whispered. As her harder shell regained a hold over her again, she took note of the expressions of the lieutenant and senator in her room who were eying her with what could have been amusement or admiration.
Clearing his throat, Parisian stood up and saluted.
“Lieutenant.” he said flatly “I believe I’ll go to bed.”
“Same here. Goodnight little Pip” Shayla got up and gave Pipsqueak’s mane a ruffle and his muzzle a small kiss before turning her gaze to Rae “I’m glad we could get to know each other, Miss Sloane. I hope we can meet again under...better circumstances.”
“Thank you, Senator. I share the feeling.”
“Please, call me Shayla.” she gave her a smile “Just so long as I can call you Rae.”
Rae paused. For a while, thanks to her family, namely her uncle, she’d avoided trying to give Eriadu’s senator any impression she was anything more than a loyal soldier.
Now, looking at her with relaxed eyes, Rae found a new sense of rapport with Shayla Paige-Tarkin.
Without turning her gaze, Shayla opened her mouth.
“Corporal, weren’t you leaving?”
Parisian, having stopped in the doorway and beholding the two ladies with a blank look, jumped slightly and nodded.
“Y-yes, Miss...Ma’am...Senator. Sorry.”
“No need.” Shayla said, turning to him “If you wouldn’t mind staying up a little longer, I’d like to get to know you better as well...”
Parisian paused, his cheeks slowly flushing red.
“You mean...”
“On the way to our respective chambers.”
“Oh...I mean yes, of course...right...thank you.” Bowing fussily, he and the Senator departed.
Rae shook her head with a chuckle.
“Kids.”


Sitting down on the bed, the woman placed Pip down and slowly rubbed his cheeks.
“It’s okay, Pip. I promise, Berec won’t hurt you. Or Crodd or Pestage or Toora or anyone. Okay?”
“Mm-hmm...” Pip mumbled quietly, looking up at his protector with wide, frightened eyes “I just...I don’t understand...Why would he do that to her? They said she was a good person, that she never hurt anyone, why...”
“Because...” Rae thought of an answer one could give to a child without making them scared of growing up. All her life she’d been aware of just how hard life itself could be.
But to this colt, violence in general seemed abnormal.
What could she say.
“Men like Berec...fight with fear. And to sow fear, they take something that gives hope to others and they destroy it. Sometimes this takes us by surprise. There’s no protecting yourself from it, only recovering. But other times, you’re ready. Other times you and all those beside you band together and stop yourselves from giving into fear.” she gave him a smile “And this will be one of those times, Pip. Because now we’re ready. And anyway, we’re not gonna’ be anywhere near 	Berec after tomorrow. You don’t need to worry about him. We have our best officers taking care of it.”
“Okay...what’ll happen to him.”
Another difficult question.
But there was honestly only one answer.
“Justice.” she said “Imperial justice.”
Getting up to change into her bed-wear, Rae heard Pip’s voice again.
“Is is...bad...that I want him to be punished?”
“Well...after what he’s done, no-one would fault you.” Rae gave him an earnest look “But the important thing is to remember why. Why it’s important to see justice done.”
“Okay...” Pip mumbled as he tottered off the bed again, his head to the ground.
“Hey.” Rae bent down and tilted his gaze upwards “In any case, don’t worry about it now. Let’s just some sleep.”
Noticing quite a bit of dust from Umbara still clinging to Pip’s coat, Rae felt inclined to give him a wash.
So in the en suite bathroom, for lack of any better methods, she ran a basin of warm water and gave his coat a brushing with a sponge in the same way one would clean a pet.
He was quiet all the while, staring blankly at his forehooves in bleak contemplation.
She still pondered whether or not it was ethical to treat him like a non-sentient animal. Most Imperials no longer worried about insulting aliens but, regardless of how she felt about granting them the same power and influence in the galaxy as humans, she felt they deserved to be treated like people nonetheless.
But then, was Pip an alien?
Such questions, she resolved, could wait for another day.
Giving Pip a towel and letting him dry himself outside the bathroom, she took a quick shower, changed into a vest and shorts, and settled down on the bed. She noticed Pip had placed the towel on the ground, folded quite impressively for someone without hands, and seemed to be making a makeshift bed.
“Hey, kid. It’s okay. You can sleep up here if you want.” she patted the duvet.
Pip gave it a glance.
“Um...okay. If that’s not too much trouble.”
“Pip...” Rae gave him a gentle smile as she picked him up and propped him down on a corner of the duvet, pulling up an extra blanket over him and a mini-cushion from a stool to serve as a pillow.
“It’s no trouble at all. You get a good night’s sleep. Goodness knows you deserve it.”
Pip blinked and smiled, brushing his eyes out of either fatigue or tears of happiness.
“Thanks...Rae. Thanks so much.”
Settling down, resting his big head on the pillow and his tiny forehooves pulling the corners of his blanket over him, he closed his eyes and at last found sleep.
Smiling, Rae herself settled down, switched the light off at the button over her pillow, and slept off one of the most confusing days she’d had in a very long time.


She didn’t want to count how many hours of sleep she had before a noise woke her.
One hand reaching for the small stun-blaster she kept wedged in a corner of the bed, the other for the dim, overhead light, she gave a listen.
A small sniffle.
It didn’t take long for her for to realise the noise was coming from Pip.
Putting away the blaster and sitting up, she looked to Pip who was tossing and turning frantically in his sleep and mumbling.
As she listened, Rae could make out some words, spoken in a fearful, teary squeak from the colt.
“No...Please...I’m sorry...Don’t...Dad, don’t...”
“Pip?”
Awakening with a small gasp, the colt clutched the corners of his blanket and slowly looked up at Rae.
“S-s-sorry...” he mumbled “I...I woke you up.”
“Never mind that, Pip. Are you okay?”
“I was...it was just a bad dream.”
“You said ‘Dad’.”
The effect was evident. Pip winced and clutched at the sides of his blanket, whimpering softly.
“What...happened to your dad?” Rae asked tentatively. Pip turned his head away in response.
“I...I can’t...”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, Pip. But...if you’re having trouble sleeping...”
Pip shuffled his hooves uncomfortably. Giving a sigh, Rae patted the head of her duvet.
“It’s okay, Pip. I don’t mind. As long as it’ll help.”
“...okay...thanks...” Slowly, Pip crawled up to her, placed the cushion against the wall, rested his head at the bottom of 	Rae’s pillow and shuffled slightly as Rae gave him a gentle hug.
“I’m here, Pip...” she whispered “I’m here for you...Feel better?”
There came no answer. Glancing at the colt, she noticed Pip was already fast asleep beside her, his little chest rising and falling silently.
Rae couldn’t help but smile as she turned out the light and settled down. It wouldn’t be difficult to sleep even with the little pony beside her and seeing him there snoozing contentedly, made her feel a warmth in her chest she kept buried most of the time.
She wondered what the presence of the strange creature was doing to her both as a soldier and a person in general.
But those worries, she decided, could wait for tomorrow.