//------------------------------//
// Good Morning Eriadu 
// Story: Alone In The Galaxy 
// by Purple Patch 
//------------------------------//

With a soft hum of her alarm, Rae greeted the morning.
As a junior officer, she didn’t have an actual room with windows but it didn’t bother her too greatly.
The skies over Eriadu were almost always a shade of grey.
As she got out of bed, she turned to see little Pipsqueak stirring, blinking wearily and rubbing his eyes with his tiny forehooves.
“Hey, little guy.” Rae greeted him with a smile “Sleep better?”
“Quite a bit, yeah.” he answered with a tiny yawn “Sorry if I kept you up.”
“You didn’t, Pip, don’t worry.” Pacing over to a small dispenser, she pressed a combination of buttons and several small, wrapped packets and two steaming cups exited the machine. Rae passed Pip a cup and one of the packets, unwrapping it to reveal a group of small dry golden-brown sticks.
“A bit of early breakfast. While on leave, soldiers can indulge in a bit of brunch in the late morning so we’ll see the platoon there.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Pip took a sip from the cup. It tasted mostly like tea with maybe some sort of spice or sugar mixed in. 	He’d drunk tea before. His mother rarely went more than three hours without a cup, Trottingham ponies famous for their fondness for it. But he wasn’t allowed it before bed and he normally stuck to juice or milk at any rate.
The golden-brown sticks were quite tasty, the colt discovered, almost like some sort of sweet rice-cereal.
Rae couldn’t help but chuckle as she watched Pip rapidly munch on them like some kind of little rodent.
“So...” Pip asked, licking crumbs off his lips “How do you normally start the morning?”
The woman shrugged.
“Normally, after this, I take a shower and then start the morning with a jog.” she answered “How about you?”
“Well...I fancy a look outside and I normally take a run to the train station. I won’t mind.”
“Okay then...” Rae took a look inside the bathroom. She wasn’t sure if Pip could really use the shower effectively or if he’d want help.
That was something that bugged her. Did these ponies wear clothes, day to day? Or did his fur count as clothes?
Rae elected to remove the basin from its stand, fill it with warm water, place it just outside the bathroom on top of a few towels and let Pip wash himself in her bedroom. Not just to avoid any possible indecency on either party but because she rather enjoyed singing and dancing in her morning shower to the tunes on the bathroom radio and this was a secret pastime she would take her grave if necessary.
Once in the shower, she switched the radio and listened to the morning’s announcements as the warm water washed the remaining slumber from her shoulders.
“Good Morning to all listeners across the Empire, I am Lubis Blane of HoloNet News speaking to you from Coruscant which is, let me check...yep, just as beautiful as ever. Top Stories; In response to news of hostilities on Pantora and the murder or attempted murder of its leading officials, the local Moff Shokan issued a statement declaring that the protection of the people of Pantora was now the Sector Army’s top priority. Commander Pter Thanas of the Alzoc III garrison has stated that the rumours of the primitive Talz being involved in this are highly unlikely, blame being placed on insurgent groups originating from the unguarded sectors. Moff Shokan insists that the killings were accomplished due to Pantora’s absence of proper Imperial protection and now that a planetary garrison is being established, the people shall have little to fear. Grand Moff Kintaro and Baron Papanoida have not been reached for comment though the Baron will be speaking to HoloNet journalists later today.
Elsewhere, Harch raiding-parties have been spotted north of the Ando sector, believed to be in service to the plutocratic Sy Myrthian warlord, Toonbuck Toora. The Imperial Navy have been quick to respond, with the valiant Fleet Admiral Bannidge Holt assuring the Empire’s citizens that their homes and families are safe from any invaders. The respected Grand General Hurst Romodi advises that, in the very unlikely occurrence of an orbital battle close to home, citizens will be informed in good time and escorted safely and sensibly to a nearby bunker. The Navy have sworn to keep Toora’s arsenal as far away from any and all Imperial territories as possible.
Tune in later today for more. In the meantime, here is Glaama-Laam to wake you up with a smile and a wave with ‘Blown to Carida’. Enjoy.”
As the music thrummed through the shower block, Rae found herself jiving to the tunes.
In the main room, the music coming through, Pip himself started bobbing his head and gently splashing with his forehooves to the music, taking care not to make too big a spill.
As a rule, Rae kept her personal and professional life separate. It paid to do so in the Imperial Military. Most didn’t even have a private life.
She had little doubt that Pip would indirectly threaten the balance of that separation.
But for now, it was nice having him around, she decided.
The sooner he was safe the better but while it lasted...


After their wash, Rae and Pip took an elevator, Rae in her black top and shorts with a pair of jogging shoes, to the grounds outside the House of Tarkin’s garrison.
She hoped she wouldn’t pass Crodd in her current attire. Fortunately, now that he had no obligation to stay, it was very likely he’d made his way back to his own palace on Eriadu.
Eriadu’s landscape was a strange one. When the Quintad rose to power in the early days of the Republic, they’d determined that then and forever more, they would be high among its runners and turned whole expanses of their world into industrial parks where weapons, armour, munitions and vehicle parts where churned out in record time and quantity, arming the Republic, and itself, in the case of any threat.
As a result, the planet had become heavily polluted, its skies a swirling haze of whites and greys and bombarded by perpetual rain. Though in the Quintad’s defence, back when it had been green, Eriadu was still virtually uninhabitable, host to some of the most fearsome wildlife in the Rim that nowadays brought big game hunters all across the galaxy to the planet’s outback that still remained relatively untouched, too dangerous even for the industry.
So to protect themselves from the outside, the Quintad had built enclosed glass domes around their palaces, huge transparent pentagon panelling forming a hive-like shell around the House of Tarkin. And it was this sight that greeted Rae Sloane and Pip as they made their morning exercise.
It was like being in a big white honeycomb, the fist-sized raindrops blanketing the glass, making the Quintad palaces appear similar to the bubble cities of Otoh Gungah at the bottom of Naboo’s oceans.
Pip gazed speechless before Rae bent down and patted him on the back.
“Ready for that run?” she asked with a grin “I’ll race you!”
Rae took off on a brisk jog while Pip cantered along, both with eager smiles on their faces as the cool air filtered into the dome blew through their hair and mane. Running round the garrison and palace on a great marble-tiled courtyard, they passed by other officers greeting the dawn.
Old Wullf Yularen was jogging along a bit slower, his fatigued panting suggesting he’d been doing this more than he was used to. Clearly not such an early riser, he was still in his grey pyjamas, looking more like someone’s embarrassing grandfather than the Secretary of the Imperial Intelligence Services.
Pip had to wonder whether he not he actually had children.
“Come on, Wullf, one lap left!”
Speeding by him at a brisker, bolder pace, was Maximillian Veers, slapping his faltering colleague on the back as he passed. Veers was in short tracksuit trousers and, to Rae’s fluster, was bare-chested, showing off a hefty pack of muscles that would have been the envy of a man half his age.
Though it seemed, contrary to what Sergeant Denwarren had said around the mess hall, Veers did not in fact have his chest hair shaved into the shape of the Imperial crest.
He owed Tuuk ten credits.
“A fine morning to you, Miss Sloane, and to you, young Pip!” he hollered back, already a yard away from them, Yularen plodding along behind.
“This is the absolute last time I’m joining him for calisthenics!” the old admiral gasped.
Shaking her head with a chuckle, Rae carried on.


Further down, on a large terrace, Sloane saw Grand Moff Tarkin greeting the morning alongside Natasi Daala.
Alarmingly, they were doing stretches together.
Natasi was, at any rate. Her lover was either joining in rather half-heartedly or observing while slightly copying her movements, deadpan-faced. Tarkin was wearing his usual uniform. Rae wondered if he ever took it off.
Captain Daala, meanwhile, was wearing what Rae assumed was a swimsuit that revealed quite a bit too much of her body. That was to say almost all of it. Her breasts and thighs were shown off to absurd degrees while only barely holding onto her decency as she flexed to her full capacity.
Rae’s brow furrowed with disapproval, fighting to ignore the flush of sudden heat on her cheeks.
Exactly what she had to do to bring someone like Wilhuff Tarkin to arousal did not bear thinking about.
Tarkin himself didn’t seem to notice them but Pip caught Daala giving a quick wink toward them.
Was she winking at him or Rae?
And even further down, upon a circular dome just outside the palace overlook, Grand Admiral Thrawn was engaged in a daunting exercise.
He was dressed in the same attire he’d worn in the ring but instead of boxing, he appeared to be practicing Teras Kasi, the prestigious martial art practiced across the galaxy. He was sparring with a young man about Rae’s age in similar attire to Thrawn’s. The human was bearded with straight, jet-black hair tied in a ponytail behind him and piercing navy eyes fixed on his opponent as they landed lightning-fast punches, kicks, jabs and trusts at each other in a formidable dance between grace and fury.
Their race forgotten, Rae and Pipsqueak paused to watch the battle unfold. Both men seemed slightly worn and had likely been sparring for some time. The young human cut and swiped with outstretched legs at Thrawn’s ankles. Evidently, the Chiss had learnt from the boxing with Veers and blocked each strike with keenness, backing against the elevated wall. Just as his opponent readied his fiercest blow, Thrawn leapt up atop the wall, and spun himself round, landing a ferocious kick at the young man’s side, sending him to the floor. Before he could recover, Thrawn stood atop the wall, leapt from it like some nightmarish predator and prepared to land a hammer-punch directly upon his fallen foe.
Pip shut his eyes tight with a small gasp and Rae came close to doing the same.
There was silence.
Glancing tentatively, Rae saw that Thrawn had halted his punch as if frozen in time a bare inch above the other man’s forehead who gasped for breath before giving a begrudging smile. The Chiss stood up straight, gave the man his hand and the two of them bowed toward each other respectfully.
“Well done.” Thrawn said flatly “You’ve performed quite competently but your main fault is your rigidness in reflex. Do not be afraid to use your surroundings to your advantage, work not always forward but around if necessary.” he paused and slightly tilted his head “Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Sloane?”


‘Of course he knew we were here.’ Rae thought sardonically ‘He’s Thrawn. That’s what he does’
Bowing in the same way, she greeted them.
“A very impressive show, sirs. I admit, I know next to nothing about Teras Kasi myself so I don’t know if I’m one to judge.”
“Well, if it looked alright to you, that’s fine by me.” The young man chuckled, his voice fairly middle-class and a city-accent that was either Corellian or Caridan. He held out a hand in introduction which Rae shook.
“Soontir Fel, 37th Fighter Wing. Nice to meet you.”
“Rae Sloane, my exact position seems to change like the wind.”
“Sounds quite exciting to me but then I spend most of my time crammed into a cockpit.” he chuckled “The Grand Admiral has taken me on as something of a protégé. Time will tell if it’s a good move on his part.”
“If it’s not, take comfort in the fact that you’re perhaps his first mistake.” Rae gave a cheeky grin “That, in itself, would be an accomplishment.”
“Don’t be too sure, Miss Sloane.” Thrawn gave her a knowing glance between disapproval and mirth “My record is far from spotless. But then from mistakes come experience, the most valuable spoil of war. Remember that.”
“Yes, sir.” Both Rae and Soontir said at once in vehemence.
Pip meanwhile, had wandered, making sure to remain in Rae’s sight. He was keen to admire the intergalactic foliage in the flower beds surrounding the courtyard. The trunks of the trees twisted round each other in conjoined pairs and hung not leaves on their branches but bright yellow-green bulbs.
Walking round it with wonder, Pip nearly bumped into someone.
He jumped as he looked. Whoever this was wore a thick white gown and a strange gas-mask and goggles. He was holding a bizarre appliance shaped almost like a blowtorch that was shining some leaf-green light out its nozzle. Upon noticing him, he held out a hand and made some incomprehensible warble through his mask as he shone the light at the tree-trunk.
Pip took several safe paces back but still stared curiously.
“Um...pardon...sir?”
Switching off the appliance, the man removed his gas mask.
“I said ‘Not too close, lad.’ This thing can give you a nasty burn...and it doesn’t pay to trust the tree either.”


“Pip, you okay?” Rae made her way down to retrieve the little colt and met this strange man face to face.
He was a middle-aged gentleman with a long, broad face and a full head of slightly greying oak-brown hair combined with his yard-brush moustache that curled upwards like a crescent as he gave the pair a warm smile.
“A fine morning to you, lass. Would this be the exotic pet the men are speaking of?” he chuckled “He’s an intriguing little fella and no mistake.”
“Thank you, sir.” Pip chirped.
“Yeah it’s...been an eventful past...day.” Rae sighed, realising how short a time she’d had Pip in her care for the first time “Well, ah...If that’s all, we won’t keep you from your work, Mr Gardener.”
“That’s Captain Gardener to you, missy.” The man placed his hands on his hips and gave them a roguish grin.
Rae and Pip looked at him, then each other, then to the man again.
“Excuse me?”
The man chuckled again, evidently something he was used to doing, and held out a hand in greeting.
“Gardening is just a past-time, helps clear my head. I don’t expect to get paid which suits old Tarkin quite nicely. By trade, I’m a captain in his Imperial Majesty’s navy...And by name, I am Pellaeon. Gilad Pellaeon.”
Rae shook him by the hand. Afterward, he bent down to shake Pip’s hoof in turn.
“Rae Sloane.” Rae introduced himself “And this is Pip.”
“Glad to meet your acquaintance. I’m afraid your name is unfamiliar to me.”
“That’s fine. I like not having to use my military record as a first impression.”
“Ha! Same here!” he guffawed “I’m under the Azure Hammer Command at the moment, Anaxes and Coruscant guard. But I got word a while ago I’d be reinforcing Weblin’s fleet”
“Ah, then we’ll be working together.”
“Glad to hear it. Hope to catch up later on, young Miss...” Pellaeon gave a nod as he turned to examine the next tree down the walkway.
“Captain Pellaeon?”
The gardener stopped in his tracks as a figure in a black dress appeared, her arms hidden from view.
“Ah, Miss Estornii.” he said “You’ll be...heartened to know that I found what you were looking for in the greenhouse. Take care with them and...My deepest condolences.”
He reached into a medium-sized satchel and held out a bouquet of vibrant yellow flowers, their petals like wide upside-down bells with ivory-white stamens dipped in lilac sitting in their centres.
“Ohaara-Hwatsan Flowers.” Pellaeon mused “Named after the one of Eriadu’s most treasured royal ladies in the early days of the Republic. I believe they will be a most appropriate gesture of remembrance.”
“Thank you dearly, Captain.” the solemn alien senator accepted them, finally showing her hand to possess four webbed-fingers with ebony-black nails “You are a man with a warm soul...Please never lock it away.”


Before she turned away, Pip’s voice cut the silence.
“Are those for...your friend?”
Eeusu paused, gave a weighty sigh and answered.
“Yes...For a small shrine. Then I and Panaka will depart with Admiral Yularen to Pantora for...the funeral arrangements.”
“Um...I’m really sorry about what happened.” Pip piped up nervously.
“I assure you, Miss Estornii, the Empire will ensure Riyo Chuchi is avenged.”
The Zeoul sighed, turning away.
“You did not know her.” she said quietly with a hint of disdain “Riyo abhorred the notion of vengeance. The blood of her killer...will not honour her spirit.”
“What about protecting her friends?”
It had Pip who had spoken. Rae had her mouth open and had planned to say words of somewhat similar nature.
Now she was silent, stunned at the colt’s understanding.
He was a stranger to violence. That much had been clear.
But he seemed to have a head for keeping strong in the face of it.
Eeusu Estornii tilted her head and gave a small, slow nod.
“Yes...her friends in the Senate...Her friends on Pantora...That is something you will honour, yes?”
“Of course.” Rae saluted “Yularen and Panaka will do all they can to protect them. You can trust them, my lady. They’re good men.”
“As you say, Lieutenant. And to you, Master Pipsqueak. I am thankful for your warm words at times so gravely cold. May they also be as a breeze, or a shower of rain, when the heat of battle threatens to set us all aflame.”
And she turned and left the way she came.
Eeusu Estornii’s manner unnerved Rae somewhat. She was a strange woman in general with an odd way of talking that was apparently a cultural trait among her kind, the Zeoul a race few actually knew a whole lot about.
Nonetheless, she was clearly going through quite some grief.
Admittedly, Pip seemed better at helping than her.
But then helping people through grief wasn’t what she was trained or paid to do.
It wouldn’t stop her trying.
With a weighty sigh, she turned to Pip.
“We should probably head back.” she said “I’d like to catch the platoon later on before we leave.”


*


Spying on her uncle’s meetings wasn’t something she admitted to doing a lot of.
But then what she admitted to doing wasn’t always all she did.
Shayla Paige-Tarkin was like that.
Paige was a name barely worth speaking of, according to the other four families of the Quintad.
Dothwold Paige had set out to prove them wrong when he went with his father-in-law to Troiken in the Stark Hyperspace War, though it had cost him his life.
Shayla wasn’t her father. She wasn’t her mother either. She’d never known either of them.
But she’d been raised a Tarkin and a Tarkin made the most of every opportunity.
Her opportunities simply came differently to those of her uncle.
Perhaps her uncle did know she spied on him. Perhaps what he’d take issue with if if she were actually caught.
She made sure that did not happen as she ducked into a cupboard as the last couple of Grand Moffs present for the meeting appeared. The House of Tarkin was where she’d been raised and the Imperial Garrison was where she’d been educated. She knew the way of the place like the back of her hand.
When the Moffship had first been drummed up in the last years of the Republic, the Tarkins had focussed on getting to know their new potential friends and rivals closely and Shayla was no exception.
Of the twenty original Grand Moffs chosen from the most decorated officers or most influential nobles in each Oversector, four had already been replaced in the years before. Anaxes’s Trachta, Chandrilla’s Bartam and Chardaan’s Coy had died in an assassination attempt on the Emperor, their roles filled respectively by Osvald Teshik, Kohl Seerdon and Rufaan Tigellinus, and Ryloth’s Ravik had gone missing with the Moff of Tatooine, Alexander Julstan IV, filling the role in his absence though most knew that it was really Delian Mors that held true power as she did at the meeting.
Even before the rise of the Empire, Wilhuff Tarkin had brought together many influential members of the Republic’s key strongholds and spoke to them in Palpatine’s name, confiding in them the threats of the Jedi conspiracy and the need for new and trustworthy protectors of the Chancellor.
The first time he’d gathered all his old friends and allies together, it had the last time Shayla had seen her family friend, Uncle Bradar from Serenno. Old Uncle Bradar who’d delighted her childhood with tales of Hutts and Mandalorians and Nightsisters and Bando Gora and the brave folk who kept them at bay. Wilhuff and Bradar had been inseparable in their childhood. There was even a painting of them in the Grand Moff’s private study when they were boys in the Eriadu canyon, grinning proudly with rifles in hand, arms over each other’s shoulders as the corpse of a once-dreaded dragonsnake lay behind them, lured out of the swamps and brought down.
Of course, that had been before the war.
Tarkin never talked about how it ended between the two of them.


Keeping the door of the cupboard she hid inside slightly open and hiding her face behind a thin veil hanging from the door, she looked inside the Grand Moffs meeting.
Wilhuff was talking with a withered old man with a craggy face, a bald scalp and a crooked chin. Marcellin Wessel, the Grand Moff of Bilbringi and something of an old mentor to Tarkin in the field of governance. 
“I tell you, Wilhuff, I don’t want to see anything with scales until I’m recalled. Those damn Yinchorri are driving me up the wall!” he griped.
“Is it really that bad, Marcellin? You’ve dealt with Trandoshans before. You said you rather liked them.”
“Because they can be reasoned with. A hunk of meat and a few credits and they’ll kill whoever you want, straightforward bunch. These ones though! I get back from Corulag and I find the leader of Clan What’s-Name telling me the leader of Clan Who-Knows has pilfered his hunting grounds! So I have to drop whatever I’m doing to go and see these hunting grounds for myself and hear that Clan Who-Knows says it’s theirs and always has been and Clan What’s-Name stole it in the first place! Then I get back and find that since I looked away for ten minutes, both clan leaders have stabbed each other and now Clan Why-Do-I-Care is claiming the hunting grounds! It’s ridiculous!”
“Hard luck, old chap.” Tarkin patted his shoulder “Not to worry, enjoy your recuperation here.”
“While it lasts.” Wessel muttered before turning to the sound of a man singing. Down the corridor came a man slightly older than Shayla, tall and slim with bright hazel eyes, curly auburn hair and a strident smile as he positively skipped into the room with a jaunty song.


“When he lets our foes take over all of space,
We Krayt-Spit, Krayt-Spit, right in Valorum’s face.
To equip our army is a great disgrace,
So we Krayt-Spit, Krayt-Spit, right in Valorum’s face!”


A classic in the Imperial Academy, some of his compatriots joined in while Wilhuff and Marcellin smiled slightly in the closest thing they came to mirth.


“When Organa says ‘The Emperor’s a case’
We Krayt-Spit, Krayt-Spit, right in Organa’s face!
When Mon Mothma says ‘The Moffs must know their place’
We Krayt-Spit, Krayt-Spit, right in Mon Mothma’s face!”


“Young master Wessex.” Marcellin chuckled “Is there a reason for this unusual buoyancy or do you just feel lyrical this morning?”
Denn Wessex, the Grand Moff of the Relgim Oversector and a man Shayla quite enjoyed the company of, held out his arms for attention and declared.
“Gentlemen...Ladies...I am going to be dad!”
There was a generous roar of praise as Grand Moffs left their seats to shake his hand and pat his shoulder.
“Congratulations, old boy!”
“Lira must be overjoyed!”
“I’m sure you’ll make a fine father, Wessex.” Weblin slapped him on the back “Have you thought of a name?”
“Well,” Denn scratched the back of his head and blushed bashfully “Forgive me for being a sentimental young fool but...Tarkin, Wessel...I’d like your permission on that.”
“Oh?”
“If it’s a girl, Wilhuff...We were thinking of calling her Cindabelle.”
Tarkin raised an eyebrow but nothing about his expression changed.
“We know how precious she was to the Tarkin family, Eriadu and the Core in general. Ranulph was a hero and both he and his kin deserve to be remembered. Me and Lira felt...”
Tarkin raised a hand gently and nodded.
“You needn’t say more. I believe it would be...quite appropriate. You will, of course, ensure she does the name proud.”
“Certainly. And Marcellin,” he turned to the eldest Moff who gave a fatherly smile.
“If it's a boy, we thought we’d call him Campanius.”
“Fancy that.” Marcellin chuckled “I suppose, purely coincidentally, the name of my late brother who...”
“Saved my family and that of Lira’s at Bespin.” Denn Wessex finished with a smile “From the Death Watch. I’ve never forgotten that day. I never want to. And with his namesake behind the son who, if not for his courage, would never have been born...”
“Say no more, my boy.” Marcellin gave a dry chuckle “I would consider it an honour.”
“In any case, I believe it is past time we discussed crucial matters.” Tarkin cleared his throat and gestured “If you will all be seated.”


The Grand Moffs sat down as one and began discussion. It was a ponderous excercise but at least things actually got done, more than could be said for the dissolved senate.
“Where’s Kintaro? Pantora is under his jurisdiction?” Wessel asked.
“Likely in the arms of a couple of Twi’lek girls on Nar Shadaa.” The gruff, furrow-browed Griffadon Praji grumbled.
“Where was Moff Shokan in all this?” Teshik asked.
“Shokan was sent to quell the hostilities concerning the Farang and Waroot warlords. She has been...rather hard on herself and promises she’ll make amends.” Therbon said.
“May I just say, I’m terribly apologetic for Moff Speck’s ineptitude.” Zandia Sulamar, a woman so deathly pale it was impossible to determine her age, said softly to Tarkin “Rest assured, I shall make certain his lapse is not repeated...by his successor.”
“So I should hope. We cannot leave pivotal points of interest in the hands of incompetents.” Dolcas Vanko, the oldest, richest and skinniest of the Grand Moffs, sneered cantankerously.
“As to that matter, we have no current idea of just who is supporting him and how many they number. Kaine wishes to conduct espionage projects in the Bakura sector but Tigellinus and Batch inform me that will not be necessary.” Tarkin continued.
“Makes sense to me.” the haughty Octavian Grant declared “Strike hard and fast, what has the empire to fear?”
“Don’t be too cocksure, Grant.” Teshik said darkly “These men were capable of abducting a senator while completely bypassing authorities.”
“Pantoran authorities.” the sour-faced Lynch Hauser scoffed “Their kind didn’t even know Talz lived on their vacation planet until after a massacre.”


“In any case, our current priority is ending the threat of Toonbuck Toora.” Tarkin butted in as the Grand Moffs murmured in agreement “Above all else, Toora must absolutely not be allowed to take Centares. The spaceports and routes of the planet will grant her the capability to attack all of our surrounding fleets and sectors at once, leaving her with a nigh impregnable stronghold she’ll able to hold for decades. Centares wishes to remain neutral, hence why there’s no immediate garrison, though High General Tagge assures me his discussions with the planetary government are making progress. Right now, we must ensure our secondary fleet can hold out against that of the Sy Myrthians while the primary takes the fight directly to Toora and her associates."
He turned to the only Theelin in the room "Therbon, it falls to you to end the threat for good. Both I and Teshik will be commanding the auxiliary but the attacks are due to take place in your jurisdiction and as such, must be dealt with by your command.”
“Consider it my finest honour, sir.” Therbon said as firm and resolute as iron.
“Weblin has, very generously, volunteered to bring his fleet to join yours.” Denn Wessex gestured to Weblin with a smile. Weblin himself nodded magnanimously.
“Admirals Shoan Killian and Barton Coburn will take command of the Praxlis left and right flank.” he said “They’re dear friends of mine and their records speak for themselves.”
“And the Grand Admiralty,” Tarkin concluded “Will be headed by our Grand Admiral-Moff Osvald Teshik.”
Before the bearded man could speak, Grant stood up with a smirk.
“And Grand Admiral-Moff Octavian Grant.” he added “Let it never be said that the Tapani Royal House was absent from the grand finale of the Clone Wars.”
“Very well.” Teshik said dourly “I intend to take Admiral Thrawn as my vice-admiral.”
There was a mumble around the room of mixed approval or disapproval.
“I am absolutely fed up of hearing about that insufferable creature.” Grant sulked “You all treat him like he’s some sort of demi-god or demon. So he’s clever, fine. Give him a ship, a position, a silly hat, whatever you need, but for goodness sake keep him there! Other people have lives too!”
“Poor fellow can’t get a moment’s peace.” Shaylas Tanniel, keen and jovial, said light-heartedly, perhaps to ease the mood.
“His peace is no concern to us. We’re at war.” Tarkin snapped “Meanwhile, when the Alderaanian figureheads grace us with their presence.” His voice dripped with sarcasm “I believe Froul Sr. will be ably tasked for that.”
“Hear hear.” Praji muttered.
“You’re absolutely certain there’s no need for his Imperial Majesty’s Inner Circle to be involved?” Kohl Seerdon leaned forward, a most sly and surreptitious fellow if ever there was one “Their insight in this matter could...”
“Their insight will be better put to use in the Emperor’s recovery.” Tarkin interrupted, not turning to look at the man as they prepared to stand.
“Well, if that’s all...”


“Not quite all.”
All eyes turned as the imposing figure of Croesus Crodd stood in the doorway, hands behind his back; a smile similar to Tarkin’s sown into his features.
The Grand Moffs were quiet.
As a rule, Crodd rarely appeared at Moffship meetings when Tarkin was present and vice versa. When the two met in person, it was never a good sign.
A few of the Grand Moffs departed without a word. Others such as Teshik, Grant, Wessex, Weblin and Therbon stood adamant.
“I believe that will in fact be all.” Tarkin said sternly “I am certain I and my...colleague...have private business to discuss.”
“Indeed.” Crodd replied darkly, loathing in his voice unhidden despite his calm smile.
It seemed he was practicing the ‘Tarkin’ smile. It had never suited him. While the Tarkins were famous for their wit and cunning, the Crodds had always been built on bluster.
The Grand Moffs departed silently, going off in pairs or groups to discuss or gossip among themselves.
In the darkness, Shayla Paige-Tarkin crouched, stiller than ever, as she tentatively observed her uncle’s conversation with their family’s arch-rival.
Tarkin began, arching his eyebrow imperiously.
“I must admit, you have more courage than I gave you credit for, Crodd, to show your face on Eriadu again.”
Crodd smirked and held up a holocron.
“An official pardon. My exile has officially ended.”
Tarkin glanced at it.
“It’s a copy.” he said “And it’s not even signed.”
“Yet. I have Sate Pestage’s ear. It’s only a matter of time. And my Brimstone Anvil Command has claimed many victories in the Empire’s name.”
“And you believe that will put you on my level?”
At this, Crodd’s face twisted in indignation. He stepped forward, leaning over on the table, his small yellow eyes boring into Tarkin’s.
“Fifty years, Tarkin! Fifty years since I last stood on the ground of my homeland! Fifty years since my entire family were thrown into Wild Space to scratch a living off the galactic wastes, many dying there, alone and unprotected. Fifty years since we were accused of conspiracy against the Quintad and the Republic, branded as traitors and deprived of every friend and ally we had! Fifty years...Because of you!”
Tarkin tilted his head slightly, his expression unchanged.
“You say that as if you weren’t guilty.”


Crodd’s knuckles grew white.
“Changes are about to be made, Wilhuff. Changes that will not end well for you.”
“Is there anything specific in your threats or are you simply being cryptic to cover-up the fact that you haven’t actually got a plan, nor ever will, to remove me from power?” Wilhuff stood up “Crodd, let’s not lie to each other, it’s never worked. We both wish dearly to see each other eliminated. But as it stands, we stand on the same side. So let’s leave our little rivalries in the past until such a time as they would be...convenient for both of us? Does that not sound reasonable?”
“Oh-ho...You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Crodd growled “You’d love for me to let my guard down, just as I did the first time. No...Not again. I know what you are, Tarkin. And I know never to turn my back on you.”
“Ah good, you’re learning.” Tarkin gave his trademark smile “I’ve survived this long, I can multi-task perfectly ably. We may be of similar age and rank but I never had to sacrifice education and training for hiding from pirates.”
“What makes you think I hid?” Crodd gave a leer, showing yellowed teeth “Honestly, Tarkin. Exile made me far stronger. In a way I’m thankful...though don’t hope that’ll save you?”
“Save me? Oh Crodd, you really don’t know me at all. Now, if you’re quite finished blustering, I have other business to attend to that doesn’t include looking at your face so if you’ll excuse me.” And with that, he walked past him coolly and exited the hall.
With a dark, murderous scowl, Crodd turned his back and headed down the corridor then stopped.
Shayla held her breath and ducked deep into the shadows, the inside of her chest gripped by dread.
Crodd’s face was creased with curiosity. Was he sniffing?
After what seemed like several dreadful hours, he lowered his gaze and continued on.
Shayla wasn’t sure if she’d ever held her breath longer in all her life.


*


“And here’s to Lieutenant Sloane, tireless and ever-eager!” Culic Denwarren raised his caf cup with a bray of laughter.
Rae Sloane shot him an unimpressed look.
“Okay, you made that innuendo on purpose, didn’t you.” she grumbled, causing the Sergeant to shrink awkwardly.
“Yyyyyyeah...yeah I did.”
“To Lieutenant Sloane.” Lume Tuuk raised his own cup before the two could get into a fight. He was joined by the rest of the platoon.
“Now don’t think this means you guys can slack off.” Rae said firmly “Recreation’s all well and good but I expect my platoon to stay in shape. When I get back here, I’m checking the log for the training facility and if I find any of you have spent less than three hours a day in there, you’ll be cleaning the AT-AT production line on Ganthel.”
“She means it.” Denwarren added.
“Understood, sir. We’ll make sure to do you proud.” one of the stormtroopers, a pretty young blonde woman who’d talked about her little sister she was looking after on Glithnos, said sincerely.
“Good to hear, Private...” Rae thought a moment. The names? The names escaped her.
“Bruula.” Pipsqueak piped up, sat upon the dining table as the platoon chatted over brunch in the cantina. The stormtrooper nodded in confirmation.
“Yes, that’s it! Private Veladi Bruula.” Rae couldn’t quite understand how Pipsqueak could remember names better than her, her own platoon no less.
Must have been a skill of his.
“Right...” Sloane checked herself, feeling slightly awkward and not wanting to drag out the conversation too long “Anyone needs me, contact me in my ship. You know the feed codes. Corporal!” She snapped her fingers and Parisian Froul jumped to his feet.
“On our way, sir.”
Pip trotted along, marvelling at the vast, shimmering starships collected in the great hanger of the Eriadu outpost’s central docking bay. Each one seemed bigger and stronger-looking than the last. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to actually pilot one, what it would be like to see the stars in one, perhaps up-close, or close as they could manage.
Almost dreading the answer, he asked tentatively.
“Um...Rae? Which one’s yours?”
The Lieutenant smiled and pointed.
“That one over there.”


The TIE/sh VIP Shuttle was a curious specimen of Sienar Fleet Systems. One could plausibly imagine two TIE Fighter cockpits stuck together and given concave wing-plates on either side to look rather silly but it prevailed against the odds. The shuttle was durable, sturdy, very malleable and could safely contain a crew of four; pilot, navigator and two gunners.
Upon her promotion to Lieutenant, thereafter no longer a mere ‘Subordinate-Officer’, she’d been allowed to personalise her ship. Hers was now recognisable by its black, white and red stripe-pattern spreading from the centre of the cockpit like symbolic sunbeams.
At the stern was a dynamic artwork of a young woman in the uniform of a Ganthel Engineer but wearing the helmet of a TIE pilot and cloaked in the skin of a mysterious Lothal Wolf, holding the Imperial flag high. A friend of hers back on her home planet had made it for her. Ganthel after all was an industrial park which housed the conveyor belts for constructs such as the TIE Fighters. 
Strictly speaking, she was allowed to do anything with a ship she’d built.
Rae had first found work as a mere factory hand.
There were times she was still stunned that she’d made it this far.
Yet her shuttle was proof of it; the Lupercal.
To her curiosity (And some concern) there were two men already at her shuttle.
One was the Dusk Trooper, his faceless helmet and sharp poise betraying nothing.
The other was a slim, cheerful-looking young man in a white longcoat with messy red hair, a pointed nose and amber engineer’s visors.
As they approached, the Dusk Trooper saluted while the newcomer smiled and waved. Pip instinctively made himself slightly less noticeable hiding behind Rae’s boots.
“Ah, hello.” he had a jovial tone to him “I take it you’re the proud owner of this lovely old girl. Yes, the old TIE/sh does its job well but then you’d have to qualify for the VIP treatment. Not like the other stuff, flying coffins we call them...Maybe I’ve said too much.” He held out his hand “Liegeus Vorn, Sienar Fleet Systems Consultant. Here to pitch another scheme for the Empire. They sent me because it’s slightly more dignified than a sad-looking porg with a begging bucket...slightly.”
“Uh...hi.” He was a quirky chap to be sure. Rae Sloane shook his hand and Parisian did the same “Good luck. The Moffs aren’t in the best mood.”
“Ooh dear. I told Mr Sienar we should have bought the porg.” Vorn mused aloud “Well, in any case, I’ve got tech to peddle and you’ve got a nice ship to fly around in so uh...toodles.” And with that, he scampered down the hanger to the elevators.
There was a pause.
“Well, he’s daft.” Rae said at last.
“I like him.” Pip chuckled “He reminds me of Dinky’s dad.”
“Reminds you of who’s what?” Parisian asked befuddled.
“Uh...long story.” Pip said before hopping excitedly on his hooves “Do we get to fly in the ship now?”
“Yes, Pip. Yes, we do.” Rae smiled. At least she now knew she had one thing in common with the little foal.
They both were just as eager to get in a ship and go star-sailing.
“The Lupercal is fully fuelled, primed and waiting your command, Lieutenant.” the Dusk Trooper said flatly.
“Very good, Trooper.” she said, craning low to fit in as the Shuttle doors opened for them “I’d like you in the gunner’s seat if you please. I’ll log you into dual-control. Corporal, you work the navigation and Pip, you’re with me in the pilot’s seat.”
“Yay!” Pip cheered as the minimal crew took their respective positions.


*


They’d found the body.
Wullf Yularen caught something bitter in his throat as stepped out of the shuttle onto the landing bay outside the Senator’s Office on Pantora, the mist from the wetlands outside rising about him as if to announce the arrival of the feared Imperial troops.
He wasn’t paid a great deal of attention to. Most focus in the area was directed solely on a horrific sight outside the Senator’s Office, Pantoran guards and attendants rushing back and forth.
The decapitated body of Riyo Chuchi had been frozen in carbonite and hung upside-down over the archway, limbs tethered at each corner in a grisly ‘X’ shape. The body was steadily being taken down and placed upon the ground before the ruling Papanoida family who were on the scene, supervising the matter.
Yularen approached, joined by Panaka and the heads of the local governing forces.
The bumbling and corrupt Grand Moff Luridus Kintaro, squat and stubbly, looking half-asleep. He’d never known Riyo Chuchi’s works but had been known to have tried to fondle her once or twice at gatherings and had been reprimanded sharply by Yularen for it.
The ambitious, young Moff of Sujimis, Maigora Shokan, her white ponytail fastened with a rosy Pantoran brooch and her pale face relatively emotionless.
The amiable Commander Pter Thanas, who’d been able to negotiate with the Talz on Alzoc III, stocky but keen and able to a fault with chestnut hair slicked back and an expression of earnest solemnity, the Talz he knew having loved and admired the late Senator Chuchi.
And Centurion Kosh Kurp, a heavily-built Pantoran in Imperial service, helmless but dressed in crimson armour, denoting him unofficially as a member of the Auxiliary Royal Guard, sent to bodyguard the Emperor’s most crucial contacts as a sign of goodwill (And to ensure they stayed loyal). How well he’d known the Senator was uncertain.
Kurp brought forth the head of the lamented senator in a decorative urn Thrawn had given them, a costly thing with sacred Wroonian inscriptions and carrying the heavy scent of burial oils and incenses.
Dreading the reactions of those before him, the old admiral hailed the royals.
The old, distinguished Baron Notluwiski Papanoida stood in his dark-plum gown and mitre, massaging his temple with one free hand while the other supported himself with a cane.
His eldest daughter, Che-Amanwe, was arguing with a guard captain while his son, Ion, and his younger daughter, Chi-Eekway, were cradling each other for support. Ion looked up at the Imperial retinue and gave them a suspicious look.
Chi-Eekway, however, was inconsolable, sobbing loudly into her brother’s shoulder.
Yularen halted his entourage and spoke.
“Excellency Papanoida.” he said solemnly “Words...cannot express how sorry we are.”
“Yularen.” the Baron looked tired. His eyes were red. He’d clearly been crying and, glancing at Ion and Che-Amanwe, so had all his children.
It wasn’t surprising. Riyo Chuchi had been beloved by all her kind and the Baron’s children had practically grown up with her, treating her as a sister-figure. The senator had once personally rescued Chi-Eekway herself from the clutches of the Trade Federation. To see her dead, defiled in this way, Yularen could not fault their grief.
Deep down, he felt like crying himself. But for the sake of public peace, he would have to steel himself, as Tarkin had ordered.
He had known he, out of any Imperial, would be trusted by the Baron, if only a little.


The old Pantoran looked to the urn, pointing shakily.
“Is...Is that the...”
“I’m afraid so.” Yularen said flatly “It was sent to the dining hall of the Senatorial meeting where she was...due to meet us.”
“Who did this?!” Ion suddenly yelled, his bloodshot eyes blazing “What sort of monster would do this to her?!”
“There was a message placed in...with the head.” They weren’t ready to know the full story “The murderer is a Bakuran insurgent leader calling himself Favon Berec.”
Young Chi-Eekway raised her head suddenly, her teary eyes wide with horror.
It didn’t go unnoticed.
“Miss Papanoida?” Yularen asked.
“I...I...” the former representative’s voice wavered.
“Director!” Che-Amanwe stood in front of Yularen, her eyes accusing “Whoever this Berec is couldn’t have come alone. Twenty-eight Pantoran guards and six medics were killed along with a family of three who...just wondered close to the area. No mercy was shown, no hesitation in dealing death. They’re monsters!”
“Berec is a dangerous man. He clearly has no respect for life.” Yularen said “This was meant as a warning to any potential friend or ally of the Empire. He is gathering a force against us. We have prepared a retaliation force but currently know little of just what he intends or when he plans on doing so.” We gave a meaningful look to Chi-Eekway “We need any information we can acquire.”
“Are you suggesting my family is involved, sir?” The Baron’s tone grew fierce “Do you not imagine this is enough torment for them?!”
“You’ll lose your tongue if you address us in that way, you...” Kintaro began blustering before Yularen shushed him with a raised hand.
He’d been taking lessons from Tarkin.
“I’m not suggesting anything, sir.” Yularen answered plainly “Unless you are.”
There was a weighty pause.
“Father...” Chi-Eekway said softly “I’d like to speak with Yularen...privately.”
“No, absolutely not!” The Baron’s beard was bristling. Fear was showing in his fatherly eyes “Admiral, you have no right to interrogate my family, particularly not at this time.”
“Father, stop!” Ion clutched his sleeve, the baron having balled a fist and raised it closer to an Imperial Grand Commander than was safe.
“Excellency, please calm down.” Panaka stepped in “We take full responsibility. Whatever happened here was...”
“It was me!” Baron Papanoida stared, wide-eyed at them, his voice close to cracking “I was in contact with him. Mothma and Organa need soldiers to protect their hideouts, they found him. You want me, fine! But my children had no part in this, none! I swear to...”
“Stop it! Just stop it! All of you! You’re making it worse!” Chi-Eekway was screaming now, tears streaming down her face.
“No! I’m not letting you do this!” The Baron yelled.
“Father, please.” Che-Amanwe joined Ion in restraining him “You’re not well, we need to...”
“Enough.”
The alarming sound had come from Thrawn. All eyes had turned to him with shock and confusion.
He still stood primly as always. In truth, his voice had little different from usual, just a great deal more audible.
Yularen wasn’t even sure if he’d been particularly loud.
“Your Excellency, honoured Pantoran citizens, fellow officers.” he said slowly “In the wake of the tragedy, it is quite clear this is a matter of galactic security and not of mere civil unrest. I believe sensible negotiations are in order here when the losses could be so many. We would not find any issue with a simple talk with anyone who would wish it. Please understand that.”
There was a pause. The Baron was breathing heavily, his fury spent, his fear weakening his old bones.
“Admirals...” Chi-Eekway said quietly, shuffling forward in her robe, her voice as calm as could be managed “I know of this man, Berec. I haven’t been in direct contact with him, nor have I ever been in any sort of contact with him recently. But...I know of those who have. It would be wise and prudent of you to check first, since I could be wrong. But I can tell you all I know.”
“Thank you, madam.” Yularen said with a nod.
“Chi...” Che-Amanwe said with uncertainty “Sister...I know you’re upset but...They trusted us.”
“And we trusted them!” the younger sister retorted, indignation in her streaming eyes “Look what they’ve done! Riyo wasn’t involved with anyone’s war. She never hurt a living thing. But they murdered her, butchered her, they cut off her head!” She was almost sobbing. Instinctively, Che-Amanwe hugged her sister.
“If I may have a word, when you’re ready.” Yularen said who then made way for Panaka who stood solemnly.
“I take full responsibility for this tragedy. I was in contact with her. I believe Berec intercepted my transmission somehow and...mistook it for direct Imperial allegiance. I was trying to get her to meet with me and the other Senators...talk things out. I wasn’t going to pressure her or Pantora, I just wanted her safe...” He sighed weightily “It’s what her highness would have wanted.”
“...I see.” Baron Papanoida was quiet a moment.
Then he turned to his daughter.
“You do what you feel is best, Chi-Eekway...I’m very proud of you.”
“Thank you, father.” With a solemn bow, she, her family, Yularen and Panaka departed to the office of the former senator while Thrawn stood outside with the remaining entourage.


“Sir. I must protest!” Kintaro piped up “The Papanoida’s are out of order! They were clearly involved in Rebel schemes! They should be made examples of! COMPNOR will not allow it!”
“COMPNOR manages domestic security, does it not?”
“Well, of course.”
“This act of terror was perpetrated by a Bakuran cell working outside of Imperial space, attacking alien planets. Therefore, this is a matter of intergalactic security, not domestic. ISB’s territory, Yularen’s business. At this time, I believe we may settle things with the Papanoida’s without any interferences.”
“W-well...” Kintaro blustered indignantly “We shall see what Il-Raz and Greejatus have to say about...”
“Without - any - interferences.” Thrawn’s voice grew slower and slightly louder, his deep red eyes boring into Kintaro’s. Beside him, Shokan, Thanas and Kurp fixed the Grand Moff with a similar steely gaze as Thrawn continued.
“You will notice, sir, that I did not use the word ‘dangers’ or ‘dilemmas’ or ‘obstacles’. I used the word ‘interferences’. Minor, fragile things. Easily removed.”
There was a pause longer than any that had previously transpired there that day.
“I...I think Director Yularen can handle things fine, don’t you?” Kintaro mumbled nervously, sweat beading down his brow.
Thrawn gave a coy raise of his eyebrow.
“Oh, most surely.”


*


It was a bit less cramped in the cockpit than Pip had expected but distressingly dark. He found himself picked up by Rae as she got into the cockpit. A quartet of glowing midnight-blue screens appeared before him as the octagonal windscreen revealed the world outside.
Rae pressed various buttons and touched screens and the ship whirred into life.
“Course set, Lieutenant. Hyperdrive should be ready to run and we are clear for takeoff.” Parisian sounded to their left, fiddling with some sort of glowing green globe diagram set into the wall in front of him.
“Logged into dual-manual turret control, sir. Lock-On systems and Alarm fully online.” Dusk added behind them.
“Very good.” Rae said, grabbing hold of two handles and pulling them towards her.
Pip felt the ship rumble and steadily began rising, a jet of vapour billowing out from under it as they slowly began turning.
As the little colt beheld the sight in wonder, he caught something out the corner of his eye.
Overlooking them on a walkway, seemingly ignored by all present, was the hooded figure from before.
He couldn’t quite tell but he felt like the figure was giving a smile.
“Okay Pip?” Rae’s voice jerked him out of his anxieties as the woman gave him an eager look “You wanna’ see something cool?”
“Yes please!” Trepidation quivered in his voice as the roar of the engine sounded.
Soon the grey skies of Eriadu disappeared from view as they ascended higher and higher.
Pip blinked as the darkness of space, matched with the lights of the stars greeted him. There were thousands, millions, too many to count.

“Its...amazing...”
“Oh that’s not the cool bit, kid.” Rae chuckled, stretching her hands on the handles and cricking her neck.
“Ready to jump, Lieutenant.” Parisian called.
“Jump?! From here?! In space?!” Pip yelped in confusion.
“No, no. Just watch, kid.” Rae answered, her voice rising to match the rising drone of the hyperdrive.
“Engines to full power!” she hollered, gripping the handles tight “Hold onto your butts! Jump to Hyperspace!”
Her hands, and the handles clasped inside them, shot forward.


“WhooooaaaAAAAAAAA-YAHOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”


Pip’s excited yell only just sounded over the howl of the hyperdrive jump as the stars turned to a swirl of silver streams before his eyes. Thrown back against Rae’s chest, the whole world leapt forward in a colossal surge of motion. 	His teeth chattered, his eyes boggled, his ears popped, his hooves shook. He felt sparks of static running through his mane and tail.
In that moment, Pipsqueak knew what it must have been like to be Rainbow Dash.