Two For Dinner
She was used to cold.
But this was different.
The prisoner had to open her eyes thrice to make sure she was awake. The room she found herself within was in pitch-blackness. The floor beneath her was cold, hard stone that chilled her legs as she knelt, arms and hands tied tightly behind her back.
Wearing nothing, she found herself shivering without even noticing. The only warmth was on her was her injuries, deep cuts and rough burns across her body. Her mouth was dry and encrusted with red salt.
She felt another abdominal pain in the pits of her chest. Crouching into the corner, her head pressed against the stone wall, she threw up another mouthful of blood and bile. Coughing and spluttering, her stomach and lungs feeling shredded, she found herself crying in pain and despair.
It seemed like only a week ago she’d been living safely back home. And while her days had been by no means easy, she’d had hope for the future.
Now she was starting to hope for death.
A dull whistle behind her was joined by a sudden light, blinding her in the darkness. As she adjusting to it, it vanished just as quickly.
A man had entered. A faint light above them switched on, bathing the room in an ochre hue.
She found herself staring up at a male human in a hardy set of beige combat armour and swathed in a golden-brown cloak. He was tall and muscular with a broad chin covered by a thick blonde beard and moustache, barely showing a frown that conveyed only mild disappointment. His thick head of hair was tied up in a topknot. His eyes were dissimilar. One was a hazel-brown, the other was grey. The latter eye was marred by a grizzled set of scars over his left brow and cheek. Both eyes, however, were tired-looking but unwaveringly keen, boring into her.
“Hello Senator...” he said calmly and quietly “May just be the light but I have to say, you’re still looking pretty good for a backstabber.”
The prisoner stumbled on the stones and looked up at her captor.
“You...” she coughed again, her voice hoarse after weeks of dehydration “You have no right to hold me here...Th-the Delegation...”
“The Delegation doesn’t need to know about the state of your current residence. And what I have to say will give them...pause for thought.”
He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small holoprojector.
Hers.
Switching it on, it replayed the last message. The image of a tall, sharply-dressed, dark-skinned man appeared and greeted her with a warm but slightly apologetic smile as he’d done when she’d first received the message bare hours before her capture.
“Hello Senator.” the man said “I know we haven’t been in contact for a while now but...Well, things have been rather rough...for both of us. I don’t blame you if you’re having second thoughts. To be honest, I feel the same from time to time. But I promise, it doesn’t have to end in despair for people like us. Come join us a week from now, co-ordinates follow. I and a group of...like-minded people have big plans for a better galaxy. I would...very much like you to be part of it. I know things have been bad but it doesn’t have to get worse. We can fight, my lady, and we can win. I promise.”
And with that, he shrunk into the holoprojector and disappeared.
As a tear rolled down her cheek, the prisoner felt her captor grip her chin in his gauntleted hand and look her in the face.
“You’ve been dealing with our enemies, Senator.” he said quietly as ever with hints of burning hatred flickering in his tone “You were planning to betray us.”
“No, I...” she struggled in his grasp “I...I hadn’t even replied! I was...I was still deciding!”
“Why? The decision was obvious...I would have hoped.” He took a deep breath as she felt his fingers threatening to crush her jaw between them “You were in contact with a known traitor. You have compromised our security. A death sentence.”
“No! I had to speak with them!” she wailed “I was trying to prevent a war!”
“Were you?” Her captor leaned in close, her face inches from hers, threads of her long hair caught in his breath as he whispered.
“You failed.”
He pressed something electronic hidden in his cloak and a light switched on behind him, big and bright-orange.
A hovering black sphere slowly crept into view, edging closer and closer like some foul, otherworldly predator, numerous appendages drawing and whirring into life.
The prisoner’s eyes widened with horror.
It made her captor smile.
“We managed to get it working again. I’ve been waiting to test it out.”
“You...You’re mad!” her whimper became a furious shriek “You’re pure evil!”
“Says the betrayer.” he replied softly. Pressing another button, the cords that held his prisoners arms and legs grew taught and pulled her back to the pulley systems behind the walls from which they were attached.
The prisoner gave a cry of pain as she felt her back slam into the wall, her shoulders nearly smashed as she felt her body grow weak, her eyes fixed on her captor and his new device.
“Where are your associates?” he asked “The ones with doubts?”
Her face contorting with rage, the prisoner spat.
The greyer of the man’s eyes shut as a trail of bloody saliva smacked into the side of his face. His lips creased and twitched with indignation as he wiped off on his hand and gave it a look.
“Pity...” his voice was now deathly quiet and chilling to the core, each word slow and venomous as he glared at the prisoner “The people were so very fond of you.”
Taking a step back, he allowed the terrible device to draw nearer, listening as the prisoner’s breath quickened and the smell of sweat grew distinct in the cell.
Before the screaming would begin, he made one last utterance.
“Remember how you used to say ‘To live for one’s people is the greatest sacrifice?’” he said “Well...Tonight, that sacrifice will end...”
His eyes gleamed in the darkness as the IT-O Interrogator set about its work, his final word slow and dripping.
“Eventually”
*
“Unacceptable!” Feanor Rondel’s yell sounded in the company mess hall “Absolutely unacceptable!”
“And entirely without cause.” Taubrey Teradoc added with a sanctimonious jab.
Rae Sloane was grinding her teeth to breaking point and Parisian was fighting not to show contempt in his gaze as the two stood before their raging captain and derisive First Lieutenant.
“You bypassed the advance path set out for you by my vanguard,” Rondel snapped “And nearly compromise the bombing zones! And then, and then...” he repeated for effect “You give the priority target, Guulmoth Deechi, the known fugitive, the opportunity to run, thereby costing us a valuable asset for interrogation and nearly getting your entire platoon killed by a wild vixus!”
“Sir, I...”
“All for the sake of some idiotic animal you picked out of goddamn no-where!” the Captain bellowed, his face scarlet with rage “What have you to say?!”
“We weren’t ordered to capture Deechi alive, sir.”
“You imbecile! First law of Imperial Laws of Offensive Warfare; Any enemy command is to be captured alive if possible! Evidently, it was possible!”
“For a qualified officer.” Teradoc chided.
“Yet you botched even that! And then this business with the local wildlife!”
“No-one was killed.”
“Oh, that’s alright then!” Rondel snapped sarcastically “Let me tell you, Sloane, I have had just about enough of your consistent insubordination! I assure you, if I don’t have you court-martialled by the week’s end, you’ll wish I-”
“Is there really a need for quite so much shouting in here, captain?”
The sound of the door opening had gone unnoticed under Rondel’s berating but the Grand Moff always cut through any sound.
Snapping to attention, Rondel, Teradoc and all others present clicked their heels and saluted.
Grand Moff Tarkin approached in his usual sardonic manner. Glancing behind him, Sloane’s eyes brightened as she caught sight of Pipsqueak safe and sound, though her mood soured slightly at seeing him in the hands of Natasi Daala, a woman who Sloane found rather objectionable in regards to her methods of climbing the chain of command.
The torrid office romance of Wilhuff Tarkin and Natasi Daala was one of the worst-kept secrets in the Imperial Command. She knew of only two people who weren’t aware; Tarkin’s own wife, Thalassa, living in opulence at her family estate on Phelarion; and her brother, Admiral Conan Antonio Motti.
Rae knew it was tough for a young woman to make a living as an Imperial officer but sleeping one’s way to command was something she’d never considered nor ever would.
Sleeping with Tarkin of all people was something she found most distasteful.
Though Daala had privately confided in her that, perhaps through some way, she could serve as a good influence on her otherwise cold and uncompromising lover.
Sloane exercised a slight hope but expected little to come of it.
Tarkin gazed a steely eye over Rondel and Teradoc.
At last he spoke.
“Well?” he began “What seems to be the trouble?”
“Ahem, well...sir...” Rondel’s ardour had shrivelled almost entirely “Irregularities occurred during the retaking of Umbara and the apprehension of Guulmoth Deechi, chiefly involving one Miss Rae Sloane.”
“Lieutenant Rae Sloane?” Tarkin asked “Yes, I had heard of that. Going into battle with only a handful of soldiers and bringing down a fully-grown vixus single-handed.”
“Exactly. Of course, I was just saying...”
“Well done...I should hope.” the Grand Moff cut off Rondel’s explanation, giving him a curt look “Here in the Empire, we admire ambition. An Empire rarely ever gets far without it after all.”
“Yes but...” Rondel blustered “She disobeyed orders, orders I gave her.”
“Did you?” Tarkin raised one eyebrow “From what I heard you were on Balmorra. Am I correct?”
“I was, sir.”
“What were doing on Balmorra?”
“Well, I was...sent to transfer prisoners, sir.”
“Were you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Apparently this was a job that gave you enough time to know of events on Umbara in which a platoon under your command was involved.”
“Yes, sir.”
“So you took time during your mission on Balmorra...to relay orders for Lieutenant Sloane on Umbara?”
“Well...”
“Despite the fact that Moff Froul was leading the assault on Umbara, a man whose orders outweigh yours at any rate.”
“Well...no, sir.”
“No? His orders don’t outweigh yours? Is that what you are suggesting”
“N-no...No, sir...what I mean is, I gave her orders to follow in any situation. And she disobeyed those orders.”
Tarkin gave a small nod, registering no clear response.
“What is your name?” he said after a pause.
“Er...” the officer jumped slightly “Captain Rondel, sir.”
“Who?”
“Captain Feanor Rondel, sir.”
There was a pause.
“Who?” the Grand Moff repeated.
Sloane was finding this all rather entertaining. She, Parisian and Natasi shared a similar insolent grin.
“I...saw action at the Battle over Coruscant, sir.”
Tarkin gave him an unimpressed look.”
“Saw it? Yes. So did I. As did many, many...many others. And what were you doing at the battle? Transferring prisoners?”
“N-no, sir.”
“Just as well.” And with that, he turned away from the stammering, sweating Rondel and turned to Taubrey Teradoc who stood stock-still under his gaze.
“And you are?”
“First Lieutenant Taubrey Teradoc...ahem...sir.”
Tarkin raised an eyebrow again.
“Any relation to Admiral Treuten Teradoc perchance?”
“Yes, sir.” Taubrey puffed himself up with pride “He is my uncle, sir.”
“...You both have my deepest sympathies.” He turned away as, after a slight pause, Taubrey’s face fell in indignation.
Tarkin clicked his fingers as he paced to the exit.
“Daala, Sloane, Froul. A word, please.”
“Yes, sir.” Sloane said, a satisfied grin etched on her face.
“But, sir?!” Rondel spluttered, trying to get a word in edgeways.
Grand Moff Tarkin turned with a tired expression.
“Captain Rondel, is there any reason why you appear so graceless at this hour? I am a very busy ma-”
“But sir, you don’t understa-”
When Grand Moff Tarkin held up a hand, he may as well have drawn the galaxy’s biggest blaster. Rondel was silenced and any chance that anyone present was about to speak was instantly crushed.
Tarkin’s brow furrowed an inch yet Sloane found it more frightening that the jaws of the vixus.
“Rondel...” he said in a low but absolutely severe tone “You are on no account to ever interrupt me again. It is exceptionally rude.”
“Y-yes, sir, but-”
Tarkin waved his hand, silencing the stammering officer. The Grand Moff’s gaze was razor-sharp.
“You have a lot to learn, young man.” he said flatly.
And with that, he left, taking Daala, Froul, Sloane and Pip with him.
As the door shut, Tarkin and Daala turned to face Sloane and Parisian.
“Lieutenant.” the Grand Moff pointed to the colt in Daala’s arms “I believe you left this on the ship.”
Giving a grateful sigh of relief, Rae scooped up Pipsqueak, placed him safely on the ground and ruffled his mane.
“Sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to lose you like that.” she caught her breath and gave him a small nuzzle “I hope you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, Rae.” Pip replied chirpily “I was found by Grand Moff Tarkin’s wife.”
“My wife? Where?!” Tarkin’s face portrayed the closest thing to fear Rae had ever seen from him as he looked to his left and right. After an awkward pause, Daala burst out laughing.
“Its okay, Pip. I’m not the Grand Moff’s wife.” she struggled to contain her mirth as her lover gave them an irritated glare.
“Oh...your girlfriend then?”
“She is my personal assistant.” Tarkin snapped “Remember that.” Tilting his gaze upwards he fixed Sloane and Parisian with a stern glare.
“There is to be no nonsense from the colt...or from either of you, while on this command post. Is that sufficiently clear?”
“Absolutely, sir.” It was Parisian who answered.
Tarkin took a deep breath through his nostrils and tilted his head up.
“Both of you must get changed immediately. A continued peace in the Outer Rim will be cemented by this evening’s festivities. Make of that what you will but...at this stage...we wish to avoid bloodshed while the Empire is still so young.”
Rae and Parisian nodded.
Before Tarkin disappeared, a door opened beside them and a familiar blue face showed itself.
“Ah, Admiral.” Tarkin said, barely managing a smile “How goes your work?”
“Very fruitful, Excellency.” Thrawn replied “You keep a very well-ordered planet. Your markets are quite spectacular. I just came from an auction, in fact, and picked up something quite invaluable.”
“Really?” The Grand Moff’s eyes gleamed with intrigue “A map?”
“No, sir.”
“A starship?”
“No, sir.”
“A weapon?”
“No, sir.”
Tarkin gave an impatient sigh.
“Very well, what did you find?”
Thrawn reached into a back pocket and retrieved a medium-sized book with silver patterns on its cover and a bright blue metallic border. Tarkin gave it a glance and read the title.
“Tales from the Forgotten Regions: Schoolboy Edition...Pardon?”
“The Tales from the Forgotten Regions are quite enlightening, sir. Tragically, the ‘Schoolboy Edition’ is the only issue that has, to date, been translated. The rest are in Neti, a language I am...only slightly familiar with. But the book is a collection of fables and moral narratives and is a most thought-provoking read.” Thrawn gave a smile and admired the book as if it were a jewel “I can let you borrow it, sir, once I’m finished with it.”
Tarkin gave the Chiss a frustrated look.
“Thrawn...You have a peculiar skill for trying the patience of others. I suggest you stop honing it and start practicing your keys for this evening.”
“At once, sir.”
Tarkin left with Daala in tow. Thrawn turned to Rae and Parisian, depositing the book into his pocket.
“Keys, sir?” Rae asked.
“Yes, I have volunteered to provide the music at the gathering tonight. I fear I will only be a...modest performer.”
“Hey, can’t be any worse than at the academy.”
A voice, one with a strange drawl to it that reminded Pip of the strange accent of the Breezies.
Turning, they saw a young Imperial officer with tanned skin, curly auburn hair that was growing slightly longer than most and a welcoming expression, leaning against the corridor, his indigo-eyed gaze on Thrawn.
Upon noticing him, Thrawn actually smiled.
Approaching him, he held out his arms and, to Rae and Parisian’s utter dumbfoundedness, hugged the man.
“Eli Vanto...” he said fondly “My dear, faithful friend...It’s been so long.”
“Too long, pal. Far too long.” The man named Eli Vanto patted his shoulder and gave a glance at his fellows.
“Friends of yours?”
Thrawn turned back and held out a hand.
“Lieutenant Sloane, Corporal Froul, Master Pipsqueak. This is Commander Eli Vanto, an old academy partner and one of the truest and wisest friends I’ve known.”
It was peculiar, the degree to which Thrawn could swing from terrifying to amiable in such short lengths of time.
“Pleasure.” Vanto shook their hands and looked intriguingly at Pipsqueak.
“Platoon mascot?” he asked to which Sloane nodded, still too stunned to speak. Pipsqueak gave him a smile and nodded.
Eli chuckled.
“That’s alright. I keep meaning to get Thrawn this pet he’s always wanted. From the old Neti planet. What’s it called?”
“Ysalamiri.”
“That’s it. Trouble is the damn things can’t survive without the tree they live on and the ones that can cost a damn ton, let me tell ya’. Well...” he gave his hair an idle brush and grinned “We’ll have to catch up later. I need to make sure my old chum doesn’t fail too badly at dinner.”
And with that, the two school-friends walked off down the corridor, quietly discussing.
“So what instrument are you butchering this evening?”
“A Selkath Janteillium.”
“Krayt-spit!” Vanto exclaimed “Where the hell did you get that?”
“An auction on Cato Neimoidia. I must confess, however, I am...still struggling to master it.”
“I’ll bet you are. No worries, Old Eli’ll talk you through it.”
As the silence brewed, Sloane and Parisian looked to each other, then to Pip, then to each other again.
Parisian opened his mouth and spoke.
“Do you think they’re...you know...”
Rae rolled her eyes.
“Oh shut up, Junior.”
*
“You done in there?” Rae tapped the door as girlish whooping and giggling continued to sound.
“He is just about ready, madam.” An accented voice replied before the doors opened.
Delian Mors’s twi’lek assistants had volunteered to ensure Pipsqueak was groomed for the senatorial gathering. The little pinto tottered out, his fur sleek and smooth and his scruffy mane combed and curled over his head, similar to his friend Scootaloo back home. They’d tied a red ribbon round his neck from which hung a small pendant of the Imperial seal.
He gave a smile.
“How do I look?”
Rae and Parisian gave him an awkward glance.
“Well, Twi’leks do seem to know a lot about keeping up appearances.” Parisian said before a slight jab to the side from Rae shushed him.
“You look great, Pip.” Rae herself was dressed in a fresh suit with red and black sashes and a couple of medals she’d earned over the years on her lapel.
Parisian, meanwhile, was dressed in a sheer black longcoat over a white suit with the Imperial Navy signet upon one shoulder pad, held by a navy-blue sash.
The suit had been his fathers.
What little they could do to dress themselves up, they had done so.
Delian Mors herself appeared in a silky cloak of wampa fur, the beast’s black horns arranged in a collar. She claimed to have shot the beast on Hoth but some found this doubtful.
“Well then, chaps.” she chortled “Ready to face the hordes of opulence, eh?”
Rae rolled her eyes.
“It’s not enough that we have to have Senators on our command base but now we have to dress up like them?”
“I’ve always loved dressing up.” Pipsqueak piped up “Back home, on Nightmare Night, we always dress up as monsters or fairytale characters. I like dressing up as a pirate.”
“Pirate?” Parisian gave a chuckle “Best not let the Moffs hear that, Pip. Pirates give us a lot of trouble these days.”
As the great doors to the gathering opened with a rustle like wind through leaves, Pipsqueak found himself looking at a great expansive hall with carpets and drapes of red, white and gold, strange treasures and antiques dotting every spare corner. Out of enormous windows, the world outside was nearly invisible through thick mist that was a midnight blue in the evening haze.
The hall was packed. Twi’lek serving girls glided through the throngs with platters of drinks and appetisers.
Froul, Yularen and Veers could be seen talking with various men of similar dress. Tarkin was at the head of the room on an elevated incline, dressed in his usual ware but for a trailing navy cloak with a glassy collar of electric blue, fastened with gold inlays, giving the impression of an insects wings. The seal of the Tarkin family was emblazoned into the cloth.
This cloak was shared by another, a young woman in a silver-grey dress and a trailing brooch of golden beads tying up her brown hair. The woman had a thin, keen face but a moderately kindly expression and was talking to Tarkin who seemed to be smiling at her.
This must have been Shayla Paige-Tarkin, the Grand Moff’s niece.
Behind them, Thrawn was playing away at a strange-looking instrument, shaped like a piano but lined with thick, flat strings that he plucked with grace, filling the room with resounding hums like a choir. Atop the instrument were sets of weights, pendulums and other odd devices that Thrawn would press or click or tap, causing them to play a percussive beat on their own. Eli Vanto was leaning against it patiently, nodding with approval and turning the music sheet for his friend.
Thrawn was a one-man orchestra.
“Is there anything that fellow can’t do?” Parisian chuckled.
Before Pip was sufficiently through gazing at all those present at this grand social, Delian Mors made her way to greet someone.
“Orn Free Taa, old thing! Come to old Deli’s arms, you magnificent ton of fun!”
She engaged in a warm hug with a bizarre alien that Pip’s eyes boggled to observe. A monumental mass of fat blue blubber, like a beached whale, with great flaps from the back of his head hanging over his shoulders, covered by a great copper and cobalt-coloured gown that looked more like a tent than anything else over the wearer’s staggering girth. A hooked nose, beady eyes and a mouth of yellow teeth set themselves in an expression of amiability as he gave a hoot of laughter, his multiple chins rippling.
“Mrs Mors, how marvellous to see you.” he said in a chewy, accented baritone “Come, come meet my new attendants, they’ve been begging me to introduce you to them.”
And with that, Delian was led on by this obese alien senator who Pip would forever regard as living proof of the benefits of a healthy diet.
Hopping on his feet, Parisian rushed down to meet his heroes one by one. He found Veers with his grandfather and at last had his holocron signed, Moff Glandon Froul having to tap him on the shoulder and give him a gesture of temperance.
Rolling her eyes, Rae stepped down and tried to make herself feel welcome, Pip trotting along beside her.
“Sloane, is it?”
A woman’s voice sounded, low and stern. Rae and Pip turned to see a tall alien woman standing before them, though this one was dressed in Imperial Officer’s uniform with light blue accents and a cyan lash with a spearhead embroidered into it. Her face was what drew attention to her. She had a flat, emotionless expression, her eyes hidden by a pair of dark-magenta tinted goggles. Her hair was silver and spread out like a lion’s mane, cut into a fringe just above her brow, reminding Pip startlingly of the eccentric photographer, Photo Finish.
Her skin was chalk-white but turned into a leopard-like patchy pattern at her sides, pale cyan in colour. On either side of her face, just in front of her ears, a trio of sky-blue horns could be seen.
A Theelin, an endangered species across the galaxy, their kind subjected to a terrible mutation that hindered their reproductive cycles. Only hybrids survived and even then only barely.
Rae had remembered hearing of a Theelin woman in the Imperial ranks. Somehow she’d gotten in with Thrawn and Vader and had risen to command.
The name...
“Therbon?” Rae recalled aloud “Grand Moff Suadela Therbon of the Cerulean Spear Command of the 12th Oversector Maldrood?”
Her mouth, lined with black lipstick, betrayed no emotion.
“Correct. Lieutenant Sloane? And her platoon mascot? You’ll be serving under me against Toora. I hope I can count on your continued record of competence.” she said with the same emotionless monotone of Thrawn “I’m no stranger to climbing the greasy pole, as it were, but hindrances of any kind I do not find tolerable.”
“I promise my fullest effort and attainment in the coming conflict, sir.” Rae gave a salute “It will be an honour to serve under the Hero of Charros IV.”
Therbon gave a noise that could have been a chuckle.
“Never heard myself called a ‘Hero’ of Charros IV. Butcher, certainly.”
“Um...Charros IV?” Pipsqueak mumbled.
“Planet of the Xi Charrians. There was an uprising there a while ago, shortly after the Confederacy was dissolved” Rae answered.
“Horrible creatures. They're what the Vulture Droids were based off. Took a great deal to bring them down but we did it.” Therbon recalled “Once we had them contained, in exchange for ceasefire, they agreed to have tracking devices inserted under their skin to monitor for any further insurrections. At the time of ceasefire, there were only twenty-thousand Xi Charrians left alive on the planet.”
Sloane was quiet, forcing herself not to step back.
“Wow...” she mumbled “That’s...unfortunate.”
“Indeed.” Therbon replied “And even more unfortunately, we had to cut their number down to just three-hundred.”
This time, Rae did take a step back, horrified.
“Wh-why?!” she spluttered.
The Theelin shrugged and answered.
“We only had three-hundred trackers.”
Rae felt a bubble of air catch itself in her throat as she struggled to put that thought out of her mind.
“Have I frightened you? Sorry.” Therbon said emotionlessly as ever “You do things to rise in this Empire. Things you’re not always proud of. You’ve no fear of such measures, madam. As far as we can tell, Toora’s armies comprise mostly of mercenaries of no fixed residence. There’ll be very little weight on your conscience. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll be joined by Black Sword Command, Sixth Sector Praxlis, under Mister Weblin, who I believe has just finished speaking to your friends.” She held up a hand and signalled for an officer to approach.
Finbar Weblin strode forward. An aged but nonetheless handsome Grand Moff with blonde hair that had turned flour-white in age grown long down to his shoulders in curls, a pair of stiletto-like mustachios lining his upper lip as he smiled and shook Rae Sloane’s hand warmly.
“How do you do, Lieutenant. Froul and Yularen have told me much about you. I look forward to seeing your expertise first-hand.”
Rae found herself smiling.
“Thank you, sir.”
Weblin’s appointment to Grand Moff had been a smart move from the Emperor. Finbar Weblin had braved many hazardous exploits of the Clone Wars and served the Republic as ably as he now served the Empire. He was charismatic to a fault, his men idolised him, and he was comparatively tolerant of aliens in the Empire, abhorring slavery and persecution, a few non-humans even serving as his sectorial Moffs. Serving beside him was considered a great honour to many. Rae herself had hoped she’d one day find the opportunity.
“Stunning work on Umbara, Grand Moff Griffadon Praji’s very pleased with your efforts, Froul tells me. I can’t deny...It’ll feel jolly good to put an end to the Separatist menace for good this time round.”
“I’ll make sure the opportunity isn’t missed, sir.” Rae assured him. Feeling a tug on her trouser leg, she looked down to see Pip looking precarious.
“Um...Rae?” he murmured “There’s a woman over there who looks like she’s crying...Can I go and see what the matter is?”
Rae glanced in the corner of the hall. One the Senators was looking out of the window in a distinctly glum manner, pausing to dab at her eyes with a handkerchief.
It was no secret that most Senators hadn’t wished to part with the Republic when it came down. Few of them could be trusted. Even the ones gathered here had to be kept a watchful eye on.
Still, here where the weird and wonderful were gathered, Pip didn’t look that out of place. And if anyone could cheer someone up or help them come clean, he seemed as likely as any.
Giving an uncertain look, she turned to Pip.
“Okay but quietly. See what the matter is and if anyone asks, you’re with me.”
“Thanks.”
The unhappy Senator was a tall woman in a trailing maroon gown that hid all but her face. Her off-white hair was tied into two knots trailing over her shoulders and her skin was abnormally pale. She was sitting on a bench looking out the window into the expanse of Eriadu. Sniffing, she retrieved a handkerchief and wiped at her sunken, tear-stained cheeks.
As Pip approached, he cleared his throat.
“Excuse me?” he said softly “Is something the matter?”
As the woman turned, Pip nearly jumped.
Her eyes were huge and solid black, far bigger than a normal human’s, almost stretching her face to contain them, surrounded by a dull-pink hue. Her brow was high and decorated by an intricate bug-like brooch that didn’t seem to be held by anything, causing Pip to wonder if it was actually part of her body. The woman stared jadedly at him.
“Are you lost, child?” she said, her voice low but very soft, quite soothing in fact.
Pip found his hooves and shook his head.
“Um...no, I’m with one of the officers. I just came over to see why you looked so sad.”
The alien’s lips pursed slightly.
“You are a sweet boy to worry so...But please, there is little need. Forgive me...I am still in mourning.”
“Oh dear...um...did someone die?”
“Yes...A lifelong friend...and her children...the poor, sweet children.”
As the woman started weeping, a hand placed itself upon her shoulder. Both she and the colt looked up to see a sharply-dressed dark-skinned Imperial officer looking at the woman apologetically.
“Oh...Mr Panaka...Thank the stars...”
“Hello Eeusu.” the man said, bending down and hugging her “I’m so glad to see you. Don’t worry, don’t worry.” he whispered “We can be safe now. I promise. If you’ll excuse me a moment.”
He paced over the colt and knelt to his level.
“Pipsqueak is it?”
“Yes.”
“Thought so. Word gets around, much as Tarkin would prefer otherwise.” he smiled fatherly and shook him by the hoof “I’m Quarsh Panaka, Moff of Naboo. Miss Estornii’s a friend of mine. You’ll have to excuse her...She’s grieving for someone who I knew personally and...still feel the loss of to this day.”
“Wh-what happened?” Pip asked glancing round.
“Well...It's not a pretty story.” Panaka sat down on a bench and explained.
“Before the Empire, there was the Republic, managed by the Senate. The man who is now our Emperor was only our Chancellor. But at this time, the Republic commanded a group of warrior monks called Jedi, famous for a field of sorcery they perfected that they knew only as ‘The Force’, capable of telekinesis and mind-control among many other things. They were a secretive people and guarded their ways fiercely. When war began, the Senate moved to appoint the Jedi as commanders of their armies. We had little organised defence at the time so we had little choice.” he sighed “For years, we fought and observed the Jedi working their way across the galaxy. But as the war drew to a close...we realised the Jedi weren’t ready to part with the power we’d given them. In fact, they wanted more, as much as they could gather. A group of them attacked the Chancellor and scarred him horribly with the force, trying to twist his body and mind.”
Pip’s eyes widened at the thought.
“He was saved by the one Jedi who remained loyal to the Republic, a young man named Anakin Skywalker, who would defend him from then on. Unfortunately, because of this defiance...the Jedi went after Skywalker’s wife, Padme Amidala, the Senator and Queen of Naboo, a woman I had protected for many years.” his face twitched and Pip noticed the beginning of tears on her face “She was pregnant with twins at the time. We begged her to stay safe at home but...when she heard of the attack she fled to the volcanic world of Mustafar where Skywalker had rooted out and captured the remnants of those leading the war against the Republic. But as they embraced...Skywalker’s master, a man named Kenobi, appeared and...” Panaka took a deep breath.
“Wh...what did he do?” the colt asked tentatively.
“He used the force...” Panaka said with a cracking voice “...to choke the life out of Padme Amidala. Then...he seized Skywalker as he rushed to help his wife, held him in the air...this boy he’d raised and tutored, this boy who’d seen him as a father...and threw him into a pit of fire.”
Pipsqueak was quiet, covering his mouth with a hoof in shock.
“The Chancellor arrived just in time. Skywalker was horribly scarred, burned all over, requiring his body to be rebuilt through cybernetics...Haven't heard from him since...But there was nothing that could be done to save Padme Amidala...or her unborn children.”
Pipsqueak was quiet. Reaching carefully, he patted the man’s shaking hand.
“I’m so sorry.” he said sincerely “I...I hope you’ll be alright.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.” Panaka sighed “Amidala’s friends...No-one took it well. Some blame the Empire for failing to protect her or worse...think they were somehow involved.” He stood up “I aim to settle things between us...peacefully.”
“Friends need to stick together.” Pip said with a nod “Especially when one of them’s lost.”
“Ah, Moff Panaka.” Tarkin approached with his hands behind his back. Panaka saluted and Pip made an attempt to do the same.
The old man rolled his eyes but spoke cordially.
“Master Pipsqueak, I believe it would be best if you found Miss Sloane. We shall be dining shortly.”
“Oh...alright.” he gave a smile and turned about though he made sure to keep his pace slow.
His large ear twitching, he overheard the conversation between Panaka and Tarkin.
“I see Eeusu has joined us at last.”
“Yes, sir. As I promised.”
“That is a boon. She will prove useful in settling ties between Amidala’s former cohorts. Tell me, how is your nephew, what was his name? Typho?”
“Yes, Gregar Typho...still unresponsive, I’m afraid. He blames himself.”
“I fail to see why. We know who’s to blame, Panaka. The Jedi.”
“I know, sir...You must understand, the whole of us were shaken. It’ll take time.”
“A short time, I hope. And...I don’t see Miss Riyo Chuchi of Pantora.”
“No, she’s been...”
“Unresponsive?”
“I got in touch with her a while ago. She said she’d be willing to talk and get the whole story straight. I sent her an invitation here but I never received a reply.”
“That is unfortunate.”
“Sir, I assure you, she is still loyal to the Empire. Pantora needs its resources. She’s not like the others.”
“I can only hope you are correct, Panaka, for both your sakes.”
And with that Tarkin left the man with Eeusu, pacing over to the elevation of the room as Pip searched for Rae in the throng.
“And so I turned round and I said ‘Mister Aldrete, there is no enemy presence here in the sector. There has never been any enemy presence here in the sector'.” The bearded man called Teshik regaled his friends “'Mister Aldrete’ I said ‘I have had enough of you using my fleet to check under your bed for monsters every night. My men and I are going home’”
He was applauded modestly by those around him.
“Alderaan! Pah! They all think they’re too good for us to breathe their air! The Organas, the Celchus, those damned sanctimonious Antilleans! Pah! Scum, the lot of them!” Veers bellowed, swinging a cocktail glass as if it were a staff “Pompous, cowardly scum! Give me my Armoured Division, send me and my lads to their square and we’ll teach them respect. We’ll see how well they prattle and preen with my AT-ATs lined up outside their palace windows!”
Mild laughter and encouragement followed.
At last, Pipsqueak caught Rae’s voice on his ear, following with relief.
“It’s so good to know you’re doing well.” Shayla Paige-Tarkin was proving herself a great deal more jovial than her notorious uncle, Rae was discovering “Us girls need to stick together in these times. I’ve told Uncle Wilhuff that this bloody prejudice needs to end.”
“Does he agree?” Rae asked.
Shayla tilted her head with uncertainty.
“Well, he wouldn’t object, so he tells me, but he needs the consent of all the Grand Moffs at once, sadly. While their families occupy the Oversectors, their word is law but he thinks they can come to a compromise soon. It’ll take time, in any case.”
“I guess.” Rae sighed as Pip approached “There you are. Stick by me, we’re about to eat.”
“About damn time.” Shayla chuckled as the room fell silent.
Tarkin stood tall and proud in his regalia and spoke.
“Officers, Senators, honoured guests...I must thank you all for appearing here today.” he declared “It heartens me, as it will hearten his Imperial Majesty, to know that the Empire is made all the more stronger by such loyal and trustworthy followers as yourselves, for these are dark times and they threaten to grow darker still. It is through unity and loyalty in our new order that we shall endure and be made all the more stronger and wiser for our enduring resolution.”
There was a round of applause.
“Senators of the former Republic.” he continued “Please step forward.”
Pip watched as young Shayla Paige-Tarkin, the morbidly obese Orn Free Taa, the gloomy Eeusu Estornii and various other oddities stepped forward.
A scaly, green-skinned, bug-eyed creature with a duck-like mouth, protruding antennae and a spiky stripe of hair down his head.
A trio of squat, orange, horse-headed aliens that would have looked equine if it weren’t for the three eyes on stalks they each possessed.
A old, reptilian-like fellow with an enormous, high crest on his head, who was walking with a stick.
A short, bald-headed humanoid with six eyes and huge fangs like a great spider.
And a large, stocky, hairless senator with a huge, bloated head of large red eyes, an enormous, gaping grin of irregular fangs and a set of stubbly horns at its cranium.
Pip had never seen anything so strange in his life.
“Steadfast senators, your journey has been a long and arduous one.” Tarkin said “But now, at last, you may be satisfied to see that your duty has been fulfilled. There is no-one here who does not owe you thanks for your efforts in battling the corruption and chaos of a sadly-dying Republic. Now it is time to rest and look back with pride upon your many long years of loyal service.”
“Ah...ahem...Excellency...” a piped-up whimper came from the green alien who was fussing nervously with his long purple robe and stammering “I...I just want to say...just to assure the Empire, you understand...th-the business with the Chatza and the clan wars on Rodia. We...we did all we could but these things...We can still guarantee the planet’s support I just...” He was beginning to cry under pressure “There was nothing we could do to stop the fighting. I’m sorry. We are still loyal, sir. We...”
“Senator Wac.” Tarkin interrupted, slowly stepping down and placing a gentle hand on the alien’s shoulder. He managed a smile that just didn’t look sincere to Rae Sloane and spoke cordially.
“Senator Dar Wac...You have absolutely nothing to apologise for and nothing to worry about.” he said slowly and sincerely “His Imperial Majesty spoke to me personally to ask that I pass on his undying gratitude to you for your many years of serving as his faithful and ever-helpful secretary.”
“R-r-really?”
“Indeed, Senator. He assured me wholeheartedly. He will remember your friendship always, be certain of that.”
“Oh...” the Rodian sighed “Th-th-thank you, your Excellency. S-sorry for the...”
“Think nothing of it, Senator. It is all in hand.” Giving him one last smile he turned back to his elevated podium, Rae just catching him rolling his eyes derisively while he had his back to them before he continued.
“His Imperial Majesty sends you all his gratitude and later this evening, we shall be joined by the Lord of the Council Kinman Doriana and Senior Councillor Ister Paddie, who I’m sure you all know well, to pass on the Emperor’s thanks. Now, let us dine and drink to peace and to prosperity and to the future of our great and glorious Empire.”
The applause came loud as, in the centre of the room the floor opened up for a great white board rising up and splitting in two, forming a large table with seats rising up in the same manner. As the guests sat down, the ceiling opened up as hovering droids placed dozens of assorted platters down upon the table removing the silver lids one by one.
A magnificent array of dishes greeted them. Pips eyes boggled as the mass of multi-coloured salads, breads and other foodstuffs met his gaze. Further into the centre was what could pass as a menagerie. Meats of fantastic space creatures, cooked in every manner, the taxidermized skins and shells of mammals, birds, fish, reptiles, amphibians and arthropods rising lifelessly in advertisement.
As the Grand Moff pressed a button under the table, the dishes revolved perfectly around the table, ensuring everyone got a chance to taste each dish.
“Please be seated and enjoy all that the mighty House of Tarkin has to offer its firm friends.” Tarkin said, hanging his cloak over his chair and sitting down.
Many of his guests needed no persuading. Orn Free Taa in particular parked his massive backside down upon his seat and eagerly helped himself to every dish that passed him. Others such as Eeusu and Panaka ate slowly and sparingly.
Rae glanced down at Pip and placed him on her lap so that he could reach the table.
“What do you fancy?” she asked him.
“Well...I don’t eat meat. None of us do, really.” he said “But...that thing with the green leaves looks nice...And then that yellow thing that looks like a feather boa.”
“Okay then.” Rae reached and loaded her plate with salad as she and her new ward shared supper together.
The green leaves were tangier than he was expecting and slightly salty but not unpleasant. The yellow feathery vegetable he found felt like cabbage but tasted of sweet lemons though it may have been a garnish. A dish he found most enjoyable however was a teal-coloured lichen with large blue bulbs on stalks growing out. The lichen itself tasted oniony and had been drizzled with some kind of soft cream cheese (A pink one at that) but the bulbs he found felt like cherries but tasted like carrots.
It certainly was one of the most interesting meals he'd had.
For hours the dinner continued. Then Thrawn rose to play another tune, Vanto supervising wherever he found necessary, then dessert. Pip’s eyes gazed in wonder at the sights of wonderously-shaped and coloured sweetmeats passed themselves round the table.
Only Pinkie Pie could be capable of matching such craft.
After a while many of the guests were idly conversing, their stomachs sated. Orn Free Taa will still ploughing through any leftovers while Rae did her best to be social.
Placed between Natasi Daala and Shayla Paige-Tarkin, Rae and Pip were sitting very close to Grand Moff Tarkin who spoke to the colt.
“Young Pipsqueak...” he began “I see you’ve eaten well.”
“Yes, thank you, sir. It was delicious!” the colt piped up.
“Glad to hear it.” Tarkin gave a nod “Tell me...If you wanted more...and I had the servant take away your plate...what would you do?”
It was a strange question. Pip took a pause before answering.
“Aside from asking for it back?”
“If that weren't an option?”
“Um...I don’t really know.”
“Hm...” Tarkin raised an eyebrow “My father did so once...When I was about your age...To teach me what it was like to lose something I had grown so accustomed to...”
Pip had no idea what to say to that. Above her, Rae heard the conversation, ready to butt in whenever it became safe to do so.
“I’m...sorry.”
“Don’t be. I needed that lesson. To grow. To know the nature of a galaxy that can very easily turn on you whenever you turn your back...Have you ever had such a lesson?”
Pip thought back.
Had his father really taught him anything.
He had never enjoyed thinking about his father.
And he didn’t particularly feel like explaining why.
“M-maybe...”
Before Tarkin could press further, Ian Takan entered the room carrying a medium-sized grey box under one arm.
“Ah, Sergeant.” Captain Daala, dressed in a close-fitting silver and red dress that clung to her chest and thighs, no doubt to catch her lover’s eye, said with a wry smile “I trust the two ladies found their quarters.”
“Absolutely sir...” he said with a slight giggle, trying to wipe away lipstick-marks with his free hand “Ahem...Package came for you, Excellency.”
Tarkin’s brow rose.
“From whom?”
“No address but it was to be delivered and opened here and now according to the log. We’ve scanned the exterior, it’s not trapped.”
With a suspicious nod, Tarkin opened the lid.
Pip watched as the Grand Moff’s leaned back in his chair with eyes wide and lips tight. Beside him, Natasi Daala shot up from her chair and clutched her mouth, staring at the contents of the package in horror. Yularen and Veers got out of their seats and stared in turn, Veer’s balling up fists and grinding his teeth in fury while Yularan shut his eyes tight, murmuring 'No' over and over. Thrawn stopped playing, gazed at the scene and slowly bowed his head in remorse.
“Wh-what’s the matter?” Rae asked tentatively as the room fell silent, all eyes on Tarkin.
“I should warn you all...” Tarkin said gravely, reaching inside the box “You are likely to find this...distressing.”
“Oh, please, Excellency. We all survived the Clone Wars, you know. We are no strangers to...ugh...uh...” Orn Free Taa’s smatterings stopped as Tarkin drew out the package. Gaping and gasping like a fish out of water, the enormous Twi’lek keeled over backwards and crashed to the ground, comatose. Beside him, Eeusu Estornii let out a wail and broke down crying, Panaka clutching her as she fell, showing tears of his own. Officers rose to their feet in shock and senators covered their mouths in horror.
Kendal Ozzel went green, lurched from his seat, stumbled to the nearest waste-bin and set about loudly re-depositing his supper.
Pip felt Rae’s hand clasp itself tightly over his eyes, shielding him from the sight before he could get a good look.
Rae herself stared, petrified at the spectacle.
Out of the box, Tarkin had produced a severed head.
The head had been of a young woman who had likely once been quite pretty. Her face was marred with deep scars that hadn’t had time to fade between the time they were made and the time she died. Her mouth was open wide morbidly and crimson from lip to chin.
The woman was an alien, blue of skin, pale-pink of hair and bearing a pair of yellow stripes over both her cheeks, barely visible behind her injuries. One of her eyes was staring above her lifelessly, her golden iris barely visible under the half-fallen eyelid. The other was missing, forcibly removed, and wedged in the empty socket was a holoprojector, a message from whomever was responsible.
Clearing his throat, the scene disturbing even him, Tarkin looked to the grief-stricken Moff of Naboo and spoke.
“Well, Panaka...I believe this explains the peculiar silence from the unfortunate Miss Riyo Chuchi...”
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Thanks for the warning but I’ve seen worse. I guess you took inspiration for that from the semilar scene of my story? And Pips really looks cute in the mane style when I try to picture it in my head. Padme was really a good leader, her death was tragic.
But I think, that Vader’s apperence would remind Pip of Nightmare Moon.
Unfortunate fate for Riyo Chuchi. I liked her character.
An excellent chapter. It’s a shame it doesn’t have as many likes.
8727796
Thanks.
So did I, actually, she's one of my favourites in The Clone Wars.
The thing is, she's neither as corrupt or compromising as Orn Free Taa, Dar Wac or the Imperial Senators, but neither would she want war.
This fate, a victim of extremists from the side she believed she could trust, demonstrates that poodoo has gotten real to use the phrase.
Rest assured, Yularen will stop at nothing to avenge her.
8727858
If you need help with any battles, I can provide you with Order of Battles.
I can provide you ship names and their commanders.
I cringed a little in another Fanfiction when the Admonitor was classified as a Tector commanded by Captain Teren Rogriss.
8727794
Well, a number of scenes really, yours included.
That's the question really. Is Pip just scruffy or does he naturally look that way?
Padme's death and the story the Empire uses to cover it up, have shaken the former Republic.
Its this that leads to planets such as Corellia, Chandrilla and Alderaan breaking off from the Empire.
Panaka wants to avoid this for Naboo, knowing all too well what will happen if he doesn't.
It's a fair bet.
Eh I don't think Rae Sloane and Grand Admrial Thrawn as you are showing them are so much Mary Sues so much as being the geniuses stuck in some dilapidated school house that is the average intelligence of the Imperial Officer Corps, Where in a proper military Rae and Thrawn while impressive would be among equally capable peers, such peers are much harder to come by with the new form of corruption that rose with the Empire along side a command structure that promotes backstabbing.
Heck Legend's Thrawn nearly restored the Empire and Rae Sloane in the new canon rose to the rank of Grand Admiral so the simple fact is they are talented.
8727939
Oh, nice, I fell honored and that with Padme makes sense. And speaking of Vader, If Rae had to use the same trick as Forren, I can imagine the aftermath.
I always suspected that Nightmare Moon with backstory and the armor is based off Darth Vader. And franky, I think not even the Eternal Knights would be well, seeing Vader's powers of persuasion. And if they have a meeting wih him
8727953
Fair enough. Good to know.
I just don't want to get carried away and have everyone around them to shower them with praise for its own sake.
Good chapter overall?
8727938
Thanks. That's bound to help.
8727968
Well, I'm trying to sort portray events leading to the Galactic Civil War through Imperial eyes who, at this stage, have a sort of bright, optimistic outlook for the future, being a newly-formed society certain of its sensibility.
Darth Vader won't appear until later but he'll certainly make an impression.
But let's face it, when does he ever not?
Eternal Knights VS Darth Vader?
Hm...Tricky.
8728033
Agreed. And tricky indeed, but assumed they serve him, I think even they would fell unsettled with his powers of persuasion and would careful not to get choked by him. IF the latter happens, I can only imagine it would be like with Krennic
8728040
Difficult to say.
And (Just so I know how effective the Bait-And-Switch was) who did you think was interrogating who in the first scene of this chapter?
8728052
I suspect the man from the imperial intel Pip saw at the end of chapter 2
8728056
And now?
8728059
Same guy, the droid gives it away that an imperial
8728063
Ah but then why kill someone who was willing to negotiate with the Imperials?
He's a different character by the description.
8728071
Because from his POV, rebels deserve no mercy, or wants to keep him from talking, that’s the most common reasons.