Saber Forum

This is a thread just to explore some ideas, place, characters and concepts we can’t usually due to restrictions of ‘Canon’.  There’s no real story line per se just exploration when you get an idea or want to do something really different and don’t want to try and fit it into your own continuity so will only be posted to intermittently as I - or ANYONE who wants to contribute has a cool idea, just put it up!

 Of course still need some foundation to build upon so the first two posts here establish that. 
 
Thanks to Dutchman for the Contribution and Idea to make it its own thread!

Coughing he struggled through the ducts, muscles sore not just from the fight but also internal burns from Sidious lighting.

He had failed again…and as he sensed ever more Jedi fall…this time…there was nowhere to run to…he could only hope Obi-Wan had succeeded.

His foot clawed at the cold durasteel vent, pushing the grate out into the alley.

Pausing he took a deep breath, trying to flow healing into his aching body, the damage to his heart still compounding, it would be long before he could even begin to heal these wounds.

Darting back on painful legs he hid behind a pile of rotten papers…he sensed…something old…familiar…this was what happened with force exhaustion, memory became dilute, one began to sense old shadows – and with Sidious ascendant it was no wonder one of the darkest returned to him in his confused state.

Cautiously he moved to the end of the alley as the sun rose – a figure stepped into the light casting a deep shadow, it was joined by two more as he once again leapt to the side.

Old papers crackled behind him as more approached from behind. He didn’t sense any threat only…no it couldn’t be….

The first figure stepped forward face resolving in reflected light….it couldn’t be…it wasn’t…

“Remember me greenie?”


“Ahhh….” He settled back into his chair,

“Guards…” he called still on a high from defeating the Jedi Grand Master…perhaps not fatally but no matter, there was time.

No one approached as he looked around the Grand Convocation Chamber.

“Guards!” he enhanced his voice with the force.

Now someone appeared…now lots of someone’s appeared – in various pods around the cavernous room black figures stepped out, 5, 10, 50…

Behind him were three more stepping through the main corridor toward the central dais…without any effort they leapt up to the small balcony around his station.

He sensed little to nothing…before they struck.

His blade instantly met the Dark sword that struck toward him.  Two of the three instantly in his guard he pulled the darkside back into him to enhance his speed to meet theirs.

“FOOLS” he hissed, did they think the spar with Yoda had weakened him, his injuries from Windu slowed him!

With aggressive and lethal flurries he batted back their impressively precise strikes, but found no opportunities – they fought with extreme co-ordination, whenever he saw an opening the other stepped in to force him away.  But it was the third who stood motionless watching that concerned him. 

They were not his match, but they had numbers…where were the guards! 

Air brightened once more as he poured lighting on one of them and dislodged the pods the others were in with crushing grips of the force, filling the space around with a dark miasma to drain their very life force.

Yet this last had no effect…as he tried to consume them…their armour ate at his attack.  The attacked on the left bucked under his barrage of energy, on the right he now had the advantage twisting into his guard, crimson scraping black in violent sparks till he found purchase in the joint beneath the shoulder. 

As he pushed toward the heart his sabre was nearly rugged from his hand – teleportation!  He deflected the assault…but there it was again…the sabre flickered in unreality briefly enough for his victim to escape.

Now the third moved in.  With practised co-ordination the first two were pulled by the force away from the battle by their fellows.  He was left facing this one alone.

“Now…you will learn the true power of the DARK…”

His throat stopped as he felt the wet beneath his robe…the teleportation…it hadn’t been trying to pull something out of his hand alone…it had put something sharp INTO his body. 

The warrior advanced in the microsecond of realisation as behind the first two were healed with red shatter-point flows.  This one was not playing, fast, accurate, everything Sidious had was poured into firming his bones against the shockwave every single clash of blade produced as he tried to excise the slippery glass dagger from the space between heart and lungs where it simply sat, silently slicing as his body vibrated.

His lighting met an open hand that caught it, swirled it about and fired it back setting his cloak alight.  Now the others joined, the cowards – how he envied them! Every technique he used one or more countered, he became claustrophobic under their barrage.  They were playing safe…two or three would’ve been enough but they were taking no chances.

A downward thrust was his last effort, the body he aimed for simply vanished as the blade plunged from his lower vertebrae up and out of his sternum.  A hand clamped on his head as blue fire filled his vision.


“You're with him. You've betrayed me! You brought him here to kill me!!” He screamed across the roar of the magma flow
“No Anakin, I swear…” Padme pleaded, she was lying…it was a trick – before he knew it his hand was grasping at her throat.

“Let her go, Anakin!” The traitor yelled

“What have you and she been up to?” were they having an affair…under his nose all this time!  Was the baby even his!

“Boys!” a force enhanced voice boomed across the platform.

“Let’s calm this down….”

Anakin snapped his head round to see six figures approaching clad in armour black as the volcanic sands. 

“WHO ARE YOU!” he screeched as Obi-Wan cautiously approached Padme checking she was alright,

“Go back into the ship, this isn’t safe,” she nodded hand holding her throat.

Anakin gripped his sabre

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret later…” the closest figure held his hands up, on his back a massive blade and terrifying rifle.

“The Emperor sent us to assist Lord Vader, we are the new Praetorian Guard,”

Anakin sensed no deception, and was too enraged to see clearly – Obi-Wan with a master calm felt sick at their mere presence.

“Anakin…these…Sentients…cannot be trusted…”

“And you can TRAITOR”

“You say you’re sent by the Emperor…take him!”

Before the last syllable had left Anakin’s lips they…moved was an inadequate description – air boomed out and hands gripped him…he pushed out with the force but it vanished into darkness as his sabre appeared in the speaking ones hand while Obi-Wans face was pressed to the ground.

Anakin didn’t know whether to be elated or terrified as they clamped…something onto Obi-Wans throat that deadened the force around him.  Out of nowhere a bolt hit Padme’s ship, blue arcs trailed across it

“WHAT…”

“Nothing to worry about Lord Vader…just making sure she doesn’t abscond with your child…we’ll take the Jedi away…” behind them a black ship hovered down, eerily silent for something its size.

“I’m sure you sense your wife’s time is near….we have birthing facilities on board.”

Anakin had all but forgotten…he reached out past the empty spaces of the Praetorians to sense he approaching birth.

“Yes…of course…see to it…”

“As you wish Lord…do you wish to depart on your own ship?” the hatch opened on the black vessel and a small squad of Clones exited

“I….” his head was spinning as he watched Obi-Wan dragged away

“I will remain here for a moment then leave…make sure he doesn’t escape.”

“As you wish Lord.”


The Chancellors office was both full and empty…the key Senators, Admirals, Administrators and Generals slowly nodding as the Emperor issued his instructions, their minds open, and thoughts blank.

“And the final item on the Act of Establishment and Transition…” he gestured to his side with a fatherly smile that the holo-new cameras didn’t fail to capture

“Is to secure the future by nominating my niece the Lady Mira as my successor.”

The media and dignitaries applauded as the young woman gently bowed with a flash of a divine smile.  So natural amongst the accolades it almost seemed organic one cheered “Long Live the Emperor!”.

After they had all left the true rulers of the new Galactic Empire entered.  The vote had been narrow, but once agreed all had committed and acted swiftly. 

“No one asked about the miraculous recovery…” The future Grand Admiral noted to the perfectly serene undamaged face of the Emperor.

“They will assume it was expensive and rapid cosmetic surgery…” replied the future head of Imperial Administration, the appointments would be spaced over the next few months, but soon enough they would have the Government and military under their control.

The Emperor merely sat and smiled at the interplay, content with his status as he had be programmed for – the clone was rapidly done, even now other teams were hacking into biometric security systems to re-write the signatures where there were small variations from Sidious himself - it would only last 7-8 years, but that was more than enough to build Mira public profile.  It was a shame they had to incinerate Sidious brain…but he was simply too dangerous to leave alive a second longer than necessary to try any aetheric tricks.

“Confirmed we have Skywalker, Amidala and his children…en-route…they took Obi-Wan as well.” Future head of intelligence noted twirling her long hair, as darker shade of red than average.
“They’ll make an excellent public figures once Skywalker calms down…”

“Exactly…keep them in the public eye…the twins can represent a new dawn and stuff like that…but when do we get to party?” Future Head of Communications (one might unkindly call it propaganda) clapped lounging about poking at Sidious queer statues and art works.

“We should do something big and public and soon…” she went on a sudden crack sounding as she smashed one statue to find the holocron Sidious had hidden inside it.
“Within a fortnight before the momentum dies…”

The True Empress who had remained silent thus far finally spoke
“Go ahead…make sure Mira is front and centre…”
“well duhhh…” she replied dancing about

“What of Order 66, should we suspend?”

“Offer an amnesty…offer sex, credits and luxury for retirement – most will accept it…let those who wish vanish…soon enough they’ll realise they have no enemy to fight anymore…” she glanced back toward the datapads and drives file with the first plans for the Galactic Empires organisation…

She glanced out at the Coruscant skyline, Star Destroyers coming and going she wondered if they had made the right choice…intervening so swiftly…she was confident thy could gather popular support quickly with their policies, a shakeup of administration and a more efficient Military machine...still as benevolent as they were there would always be some resistance…..

“The Galaxy is ours,” Aristocra Nuruodo smiled across the room.

“The Galaxy is theirs…” Syndic Csapla snidely remarked

“So cynical…” he noted sitting down at the head of the table, before the highest ranking members of the Ascendancies Ruling Houses and CEDF, all reviewing the briefings they had been given by their allies, now ‘Emperors’ of the former Republic.

“This investment…is significant…” Noted Vice Admiral Tla, a Trial Born Adoptee of the larger House of Nuruodo
“And the rewards are far larger…the time for discretion is past, already the Republic was encroaching on our borders…now we have a chance to engage on our terms,”
“Their terms…” Csapla added cynically once more

“There is no difference….we both have the same goals, security, stability and preparation…”

Still even Nuruodo conceded the investment was high – The Chiss would send advisors and experts in the thousands to reform the new Imperial Administration in an image of the Ascendancies efficiency and precision.  In addition hundreds of retired officers and NCO’s would be sent to develop the new Imperial Naval and Military Academies and instil discipline, merit and precision in a new generation of officers and soldiers…from the outset the Empire would move toward the Ascendancies high organisational and military standards.

“I’m concerned about the cultural shift…” Tla noted “…while there are certainly those who will adapt well…Tarkin, Mohc, Pellaeon and the like to new the order…our methods may not sit well with the general populace.”

Nuruodo dismissed the concern

“They will soon see the benefits of a more professional unified civil service and officer class…at any rate our allies already have means to ensure compliance and adaptation in critical systems,”

“Mind control you mean…” Csapla always managed to put a negative spin on things…yet this was welcome, they needed a devil’s advocate.

“How long before they turn this on us…if they haven’t already…”

“They are not ambitious in that way…” Captain Thrawn noted, a rising star in the Ascendancy and favoured by their allies,

“Their art – or what little I’ve seen if you’ll forgive a brief digression - shows traditionalism and pragmatism, they will keep faith with old allies and are pragmatic enough to know they need outside perspectives and assistance.”

“Of course this praise has nothing to do with your promotion to Admiral in this new Imperial Navy does it….”

“It confirms my praise, they know their limits, they know they need to restructure civilian and military operations along more efficient lines…and our help to do it”

“Ten new systems…” Tla noted quietly that was their immediate reward for their assistance

“Control of Kuati drive yards…training the future leaders of the Imperial Navy and Administration…the galaxy will be ours indeed…but only under their hand…still…this opportunity will never recur…”

Taking stock of the room Tla rose slightly in his seat

“I’ve fought beside them, even befriended them as far as it is possible…if they wanted to control us…they would’ve long since done so…they want our expertise and help…in exchange we become pre-eminent within their Empire…to refusethis opportunity.”

Nods across the table followed his logic.


The staff of the former Republic, now Imperial, Department of Taxation filled the large hall, 4000 people in all to welcome their newly appointed Chief executive.

Rumour had been buzzing for days about the changes to be put in place, some said they would cut jobs, others double their numbers…some said the new head was an Imperial Senator, others a former Admiral.  All turned out to be wrong.

There was a hush as six of the Praetorians Guard came upon the stage…over the last few weeks more of these had been seen across Coruscant and other centres of the Republic…terrifying and black as death.

They’d all seen the vids on the news - a small force of Jedi and disloyal Clones had attempted to assault the former Jedi Temple and overthrow the Emperor…the Praetorian Guard had met them telling the Loyal Clone Army and Coruscant Security to stand aside. 

It looked like hubris…until the fight began. 

No sane person who had seen the footage would ever dare challenge a Praetorian – in a single engagement they had dissuaded any thought the new Emperor could be easily overthrown – many wondered where they had been hidden during the war…if twenty could obliterate nearly 800 clones and 40 Jedi…what could their force of nearly 500 across Coruscant have done against the Separatists?

A hush descended as a beautiful young woman stepped between the guards.

“Good Morning everyone! It’s great to see 3986 of you here…3986 workers who are going to be some of the most highly skilled, highly paid works in the galaxy within 3 months as you create the most efficient and fair taxation system in the history of Centralised Galactic Governance!”

“How are we going to do this…well by working hard and increasing our productivity using new accounting software, redevelopment of offices for more open plan desks – no lay offs, no replacements by droids – just a little retraining to enable you to implement the new taxation regime in co-ordination with the Civic Communications department…”

She had a beaming smile and lit the room with hair that treaded the line between blonde and red, there was a magnetism to her words, inspiring…they didn’t even notice the ‘Praetorians’ anymore. 

“And once we have things up and running by the end of next financial year…you will all be given a bonus four weeks leave for helping the change process…in addition to our new family friendly flexible working arrangements!”  they were already starting to turn to her way of thinking…now for the loyalty part…the others beside her stepped up the chorus of mental soothing and influence.

“The Emperor himself will be visiting in a few weeks to see our progress, along with the Princess Mira and members of the Imperial Senate, they know that your work is absolutely key, and the Emperor has expressed to me personally his excitement at working with you to get tax right and fair as this new era dawns!”

The applause was actually spontaneous!

Always in groups of no less than six Tarkin had noticed as the Praetorians proceeded along the promenade past the first cadets of the Tarkin Imperial Academy on Eriadu in fine order, newly pressed uniforms.  They were followed by the instructors, a few dozen in all, but amongst them three Chiss special instructors. 

The seventh, the only one without a helmet on looked barely older than some of the cadets.  Tarkin extended his hand as he ascended the platform…the Praetorians, the Emperors body guard and enforcers silently arranging themselves defensively around them. 

His first meeting with the new Emperor had been…interesting to say the least.  Tarkin had known Sheev Palpatine for many years…the impersonation was good…but he knew that man was not Sheev Palpatine.  The Praetorians about the room dissuaded anyone challenging him though.

“Tarkin…a pleasure to see you…please sit,” they had exchanged empty pleasantries for a moment, Tarkin briefly congratulating him on his ascension before he got to the point.
“It seems you’ve reoriented your policies since your ascension Sheev…”
His smile was warm and gentle “You’re an observant man Wilhuff…lets not pretend…”

The so called Princess Mira had entered at that point as Palpatine sagged bac like a droid switched off.

“Who are you,”
“The New Government Tarkin…” she placed a datapad before him

“This details our strategic goals and operational guidelines…read it at your leisure then decide whether you wish to remain a part of the Government…”

He was about to ask what had become of the real Palpatine but decided against it…if they could remove Palpatine…they could remove him.

“And if I do not wish to be a part of this new government…”

“Then you may retire with a generous pension…go into private security…whatever you please…we would prefer to work with you…”

He had studiously read their plans…if they were to be trusted…it was ingenious…perhaps not as forceful as he would like, but their restraint would give no one cause for open opposition…the Chiss influence in particular interested him, but a new administrative system was sorely needed, and he had great admiration for their military capabilities and doctrine.

And so his hand met the gauntleted one - heavy as a block of doonium before turning to address the cadets, his new Insignia as Grand Admiral glistening against the rising sun..

“Cadets, The Emperor has sent me personally to extend his warmest congratulations on acceptance to the academy, and his great anticipation to see you exceed your own limits to become the fine officers we know you can be!”
The statue was gently lowered into place in the centre of the concourse through which millions travelled to and from the centre of Carida’s business district.

The serene expression coupled with sinuous curves of fleshy marble covered the Blackstone core. 

She could hear the beating thrum of the message it conveyed….
Trust the Praetorians
Benefit yourself by strengthening the Empire
The Empire is not perfect but together we make it better
The Princess Mira is our future, our hope, we can always trust her to look after us
Everyone should live on their native world and only leave on Imperial business
Princess Mira and the Praetorians will protect us from all enemies we should help her.
The Three will Love your Children if you Love them.

Every day a million sentients would pass by, most would look up briefly on the sultry feminine form…and all would feel the subtle guidance of the messages, building each and every day passively in their unconscious.

She suddenly topple over as an arm grabbed her round the throat from behind

“Don’t get so distracted you’re like one of them!” her sister chided
“Now come on…we have another 13 to deliver till we can finally go back home away from these icky outsiders!”
The Empire was the best thing that had ever happened to Ryloth.
After the Clone Armies had driven the Sepratists out, the Republic moved out apart from a token garrison relying of Cham Syndulla and the former resistance to administer things while the Republic taxed their resources for the war effort.

In the Chaos many Sepratists sympathizers turned to the perpetual plague of the Twi’Lek race – the Hutts.  Once more the Spice dens, brothels and sex-slave trafficking flourished beyond Syndulla’s ability to police as the Clones stuck to their Garrisons, leaving only to partake of the affections of the war orphaned young Twi’lek women in the bar come brothels.

Inja had been one of those girls as her mother before her…and before her They’d needed the money for food…and all too many pimps in the Octagon of Lessu willing to take her on despite her age.

At seventeen she had her own daughter a year after he mother died, poor nutrition and violent clients taking their final toll. Her mother’s fate would be was her own one day.

She had watched the Coronation of Palpatine indifferently, same clients different uniforms she figured.

But that wasn’t what happened.  Over a hundred conversations in Kooms Tap House where she worked, her small room for clients upstairs, she saw the change the Empire brought.  First the clones noted the arrival of a new administrative team to support Syndulla integrating into the new Imperial Administration, then the Clones stopped coming.

Then the non-Clone officers in their cups brooded on the ‘Clean Up’ Initiative, and how they would lose out on smuggler bribes to look the other way.  Then those officers stopped coming.  Half her clientele was gone in a few weeks, she could barely afford the rent on the room at Kooms let alone the hovel where her daughter Nista lived or the childcare costs. 

She still had spacers and local gang members, death stick dealers and addicts – often one and the same…but they were the worst, the most violent and likely to short change her, but she had no choice.   

Then on the battered Vid in the main bar room Operation Clean Up was announced
“…A New Era dawns, the refuse of the old must be swept away.”  Princess Mira had said on the news.

And then it wasn’t clients that came into the Octagon but Imperial Soldiers – Twi’lek soldiers as part of the new One Army policy- no more system armies, every species could find a place in the Imperial Army and Navy, existing militias like Syndullas were rebadged Imperial under new Officers.

She had watched from the door step of Kooms as the soldiers of the new 14th Ryloth Infantry went through level by levelling dragging out the worst scum of the Octagon, directed by Three Praetorians who watched and never spoke…yet somehow still commanded.   

Inja feared for her lively hood for stressful days as she watched the dregs of Ryloth dragged away – some gangers fought back – but not for long - the News didn’t’ flinch from reporting what had happened, or showing what the Praetorians had done to those who resisted.

“These are hard measures,” Cham Syndulla had declared “But they are necessary,”.

Within a month the Octagon was all but dead, she was on the last few savings she had stored away. 

The final nail in the Octagons coffin wasn’t the arrests, but gentrification – across the Empire Spice, Death sticks, Prostitution were all legalised and regulated under the Imperial Administration Narcotics, Gambling and Prostitution Department – smugglers lost their reason for being, the Hutts had no territory or dealers anymore as Pharmaceutical firms sold safer drugs for those who wished to use them, pimps had no girls as the Administration set up their own brothels with security, medical staff, salaries rather than performance based pay and a clamp down of trafficking and underage prostitution. 

It was in one of these Inja found work –safe regular hours – her daughter enrolled into the free all girls schools opening up under the banner of the Imperial Missions Princess Mira Program.  Inja herself was given the opportunity to take paid study leave under the Program, free counselling and transitional support out of Prostitution. 

The proudest day of her life was her Graduation on a two year course in Restaurant management – it was the Day she stood in the Centre of the New Imperial Administration Centre on Lessu, strode past the Praetorians to be congratulated personally by Princess Mira on a state visit, Nista in the crowd tear in her young eyes as Cham Syndulla himself shook her hand.

The Empire was the best thing to happen to Nista – and that was what was best for Ryloth. 
Operation Clean Up was messy.  He paced along the row of scum while behind them their shanty town was demolished. 

“You have choices,” He called loudly as the 63rd Corellian Infantry kept them in line with newly pressed E-12’s from the factories of Mustafar.

Across the dockyards his Cousins dragged the Grindalid along, Lady Proxima it called itself.

“You can join the new Imperial Army, you can return to your homeworld, you can join the new Free Legions being assembled, partake of free Tertiary education programs…what you cannot do…”

He paused for dramatic effect checking the HUD pacer to ensure he was speaking slowly enough for them to understand

“Is return to a life as part of criminal syndicates such as the White Worms there will be no more theft, no more turf wars, there will be peace and Order…”

He stepped toward the growling Grindalid.

“The days of the Republic…where the under castes were ignored is over – and those who will not accept our generous invitations,”

With a graceful movement that lasted 0.24 second he drew, swung and re locked his blade to his back mag-lock.  Lady Proxima’s forward head paused for a moment before slowly drooping off in a clean cut muddied by the wretched blood.

“Will not be tolerated.”

“Frell Yo….” The head exploded out before the sentence was finished
“As I said you have choices…use them wisely.”
“Numbers…”
“13,812,” The image, not a holo-feed but Aetheric illusion reported to her
It was high, but if that was the price so be it.  The Pyke Syndicate and their like would not be tolerated in their new Empire, such crime syndicates were a cancer in the Republic that needed to die with it.
“Losses?”
“217 Imperial, 2 People critically injured but quickly restored, en-route Home.”
“Good…Keep me informed.”
As the image faded Mira ran her fingers through her hair, the resistance was stronger than expected – but with every successful Clean Up it diminished.

“They’re still waiting…” her aide noted juggling three link-orbs as Mira looked across the skyscape as the Jedi Temple was slowly demolished to be replaced by the Shrine to the Three…Beneath an even greater demolition was under way, BlackStone Void Altars soaking up the Energies beneath for replacement with more useful Aetheric emanations that would slowly convince the populace of the truth of the new Religion – the third pillar of their strategy to mobilize the largest army in the galaxy to their side - women.

Free education for girls, promotion of flexible work schedules, pulling apart exploitative economic systems, strong social welfare paid for by taxes aimed at rich males – now a religion that placed them on a pedestal intrinsically linked to the Imperial State – a trillion mothers feeling the Empire was supporting and protecting them - and passing that on to their children.

“Shall I send them in?”
She extended her awareness to the head of the Praetorian Guard
<Are they All Black Sun?>
<Yes.>
They were desperate to prevent the legalisations and Clean Up – where policing had failed economics and progressive social welfare policies were pulling them apart – Yet they still thought they could retain some power and influence…
<Kill them all.>

[Ident-Confirmation – Password]
*******
[APPROVED]
[--DNA SAMPLE insert digit into scanner – note may cause some pain]
>>>
[APPROVED]
[Occular Scan Initiating – Photosensitive seizure warning. A very small percentage of Sentients may experience a seizure when exposed to certain visual images, including flashing lights or patterns that may appear during scan]
>>>>
[Approved]
[Welcome Agent Emerald]
{SPYNET 14.5}
[Emergency Update > Imperial Organisation]
[To: GlobalAddressList
From: Rainbow

Agents, at great cost we have compiled the following details on the new Empires organisation structure, updates to follow. Trust No One.
Hierarchy (in descending Order)

His Most Benevolent Majesty Emperor Sheev Palpatine – Had of State, Supreme commande of Imperial Army, Navy  See attached file.

Her Royal Highness Princess Mira [Niece to Sheev Palpatine – Nabbo registry confirms age 24 years – HIGH SUSPECT details falsified]: Second in line to Throne, direct responsibility for Princess Mira Reconstruction Foundation, Imperial Charitable Mission. Defacto control of Imperial Administration.

Her Royal Highness Princess Alina [Niece to Sheev Palpatine, Nabbo registry confirms age 20 years – HIGH SUSPECT details falsified]. Third in Line to Throne, Details limited 4 sightings

Civilian Institutions

Imperial Senate – responsibility for legislative functions, oversight of Departments, Aediles report directly through committees

Imperial Security Bureau (ISB) – conglomeration of all prior Republic Intelligence agencies headed by unknown Female Sentient
 
Prefect Kari – Head of Imperial Administration – Facial analysis indicates 95% probability of familial ties with Princess Mira and Alina

Aediles – 9 Members responsible for the 9 new departments of the Imperial Administration

--Finance and Commerce (includes taxation, budgeting and oversight of Reserve Banking and Galactic Credit Clearing Exchange)

--Infrastructure (includes both terrestrial and space infrastructure, management of Hyperspace beacons and Emergency Services)

--Education, Health and Child Development (Schools, Hospitals, child protection and family affairs)

--Justice (Policing and Judiciary)

--Civilian Affairs (Citizenship register, Welfare programs in conjunction with Education)

--Communications (Holonet, public communication and propaganda, Aside Censorship greatly reduced, open reporting of anti-Imperial opinions permitted with proviso an member of the Communications division is allowed to respond to any charges – surprising number of agreements with criticisms indicates non authoritarian style)

--System Affairs (oversight of relations between Empire and System Governments, strong efforts to integrate system administration into Imperial Administrative departmental structure.

--Industrial and Workplace affairs (consumer goods standards and oversight of business affairs, union and workplace relations)

--Information Technology and Records (Control of New Centralised Imperial Data Network, HIGH PRIORITY TARGET FOR INFILTRATION,  Libraries, galleries – note a significant number of items have been seized from various museums
Aside – Centralization and overall administrative efficiency had dramatically increased, nepotism and corruption has dramatically decreased. 

***Temporary Agency** Clone Wars Recovery Agency – combines operation of above with view to post war recovery.

Military Institutions

Warmasters – 3 Members details unknown, analysis of transmissions indicates each commands one third of the Imperial Army/Navy with four Grand Admirals reporting to each.

Grand Admiralty – 12 Members notable include Andronis Veers, Wilhuf Tarkin,

>>Carryover Clone Wars chain of command

General Staff – Procurement, Logistics

Additional Positions exact level of authority unknown

Legates – 9 known – [Aside the number 3 appears to have special significance to the new ruling caste] – function appears both diplomatic and military.

Seneschals and Quaestors – Number unknown, Exact Function unknown appears to have military, administrative and diplomatic role. Seneschals appear to be dispatched on mission basis, Quaestors placed in Systems of interest.  Military authority appears equivalent to General for Seneschals, Colonel for Questors – of note these are not members of ruling Elite – see below.

Praetorians – Estimate of 2000 members, deployed in tactical Squads of 10 as bodyguards or strike teams, Infiltration impossible, all attempts at interaction failed.

Other Institutions
Temple of the Triple Goddess – Strongly involved in charitable work with Education and Child Development and Clone Wars Recovery Agency.
 
Ruling Elite
Biological data still being complied, estimates exceed Class 9 Meta Human levels.  Strong evidence of Force Sensitivity.   
Society appears Matriarchal, however sighting of Male lead Praetorians and Aediles indicates Meritocratic tendency overrides matriarchal leanings at times.
Overall Goals unknown.
Origin unknown.

All non-critical operations to be suspended and redirected to investigation of Ruling Elite

Trust No One.

Rainbow.

Ash filled the air over Druckwell well as Legate Lysi stepped over the crumbing streets around the BlasTeach facility, her guard handing her the latest report.

458 causalities to take the facility form the Separatist remnant holding out there.  A relatively small price to secure the last secessionist world of the Doldur Sector and the infrastructure more or less intact. 

The loss of clones didn’t bother her so much as the loss of 15 of the new 5th Kashhyyk Infantry, the Wookies had been hard to convince of their good intentions, the public execution of some of the more notorious Trandoshan hunters and offers of amnesty and non-pursuit of all Jedi had placated them, but it was still tenuous.

“My condolences General Rwwnahh” she addressed the Grey furred Wookie approaching across the blast marked promenade.

<War takes its toll Legate…> his height allowing him to look over her head to the approaching Clones in grimy stained armour followed by three of her Praetorians – he force of twenty had suffered no losses as usual.
<On some>
She ignored the barb, she would not apologise for her Peoples superior technology and Biology.
“Legate, we found these two in the underworks of the facility,” Commander Nex of the 102nd Clone Legion explained as the Praetorians pulled the two captives up.

“Trying to make off with this…”  Her guard took the proffered data discs and ran a scan.

[Blastech designs, logistics schedules] the thought came across [Spies but not for the Republic]

Lysi was keenly aware of the Rwhnahh observing her choice on how to treat these two.
“They were non-combatants?”
“They surrendered when cornered Legate” Nex informed
“Well then I invite them to leave the combat zone as my personal guests, continue the operation Commander Nex, my Captain will continue to assist.”

“…and for these reasons I commend the Bill to the Council.”  Rork Fey’Lya resumed his seat in the 608 member council chamber in the heart of Drev’Stran the capital of Bothawui. 
Sapphire glanced across the cinnamon or vanilla scented furred heads as those opposite Rork rustled and fumed. 

There were three main groupings in the Council, Fey’lya lead the once pro-Republic – now Pro-Empire - faction, Hed Da’Ara the Independence movement that had grown during the Clone wars and was rumoured to have once been in league with Dooku himself as fifth columnists before the Battle of Bothawui in which Jedi Skywalker had barely saved the system from invasion.

In the Middle Lop as’Ken and the ‘moderates’ who offered a balance of power between the two extremes.  Each faction had roughly 200 ‘members’ but in the shifting tides of blackmail, bribery and sabotage that underlay Bothan politics the individual members often shifted, as they gained 5 Clans through promises of cash or influence, their opponents bought off 5 former members.

“I move, that the motion be disallowed” Da’Ara said predictably.
“We should not be voting on further integration with the Empire…” he paused for dramatic effect eyeing off his main rivals.
“We should be voting on whether we even recognise this so called Emperor and his Empire as having any authority.”
Sapphires eyes rolled to hear this speech again.
“It is clear the Republic is dissolved, this Empire is an independent entity that by accident of history inherited its military, until such time as the Bothan People may express their preference to join this new Empire we should not even consider the implementation of its policies…much less those that would damage our independence and neutrality!”
Da’Ara’s side of the floor erupted in cheers as the Speaker tried to regain control to vote on the counter motion.
In a perfect repeat of the previous session 328 voted for 280 against scuttling the Bill.
And once more Da’Ara tried to get an election…
“I Submit to the House the Bothan Independence Bill removing from legislation all reference to the defunct Republic and establishing this Council as the Supreme Legislative power rather than the non-existent Senate. Bothan Space should be ruled by Bothans for Bothans”

The independence movement was growing in strength on Bothawui itself, but less popular on colonies like Kolthis where Fey’Lya’s Clan Alya was dominant – the lack of a Bothan Navy even with a strong Defence force worried the outlying regions – of course Da’Ara fully intended to establish a stronger military and there was no shortage of returning Clone War Veterans to fill the ranks.

“This veiled Xenophobia from the member opposite!” Fey’Lya interjected
“The rosy eyed delusion that somehow we are stronger alone when for centuries we have…”
“Been economically abused by the Republic! For the first time Speaker I find I Agree with the Councillor for Clan Alya!” Da’Ara cut in to echoing laughter from his patsies.

Amid the heckling across the circular room Sapphire noted the result 285 for 323 against – Lop As’Ken’s moderates seemed to split unevenly across issues meaning over all despite two weeks of debate as the Legate neared to ‘discuss integration’ nothing had been decided.

Sapphire stood and proceeded out of the chamber as the raucous debate continued, Sapphire had other tasks to attend to on behalf of the Spynet.

Ruby pressed the ear plug in as the micro drone on the lapel of the Councillors cape transmitted across the encrypted subspace channel.  The drone was barely more than an electrostatic more a vibrational string and a quantum entanglement strip, cheap to make but required expensive software to filter distortions – fortunately the Spynet was more than able to provide it.

Hissing and pops began to dissolve as Ruby tuned the device
“…speak for the Legate and the Legate speaks for the Emperor – and I Am displeased with your apparent lack of progress,”
“The council will come round eventually, the minor clans main issue with the increased taxation…”

Bothawui was lauded or notorious for its low taxes – depending on your point of view – it offered a tax haven for profit shifting, the new Empire was determined to stop that.

“…if they were to receive some of the extra taxation more directly I’m sure I could shift them off the fence.”

“Those taxes are needed to fund war recovery programs across the entire galaxy, not every sector escaped the clone wars so unscathed through faux neutrality,”

“Of course Seneschal, however the more…independence oriented Councillors lack the of our Benevolent Emperor and the most Charitable Princess Mira,”

“You may promise them 15% of the additional taxation – for use on civic infrastructure projects only.”

The Councillor paused
“20 would be better…”
“Then 20 it is but I expect the next vote to be much closer if not a victory,”

The Bothan Way, the revered text of Golm Fervse’dra, stated that anything short of violence was a perfectly acceptable method of gaining power – to that extent the Councillor was within his rights to negotiate – but the dictate of Ar’Krai meant even though a Bothan must look to benefit himself above all else, the family and clan came next then the species – there were higher callings.

Ruby and the SpyNet kept tabs on their own to prevent a Bothans ambition from overriding their responsibilities to the species…and Fey’Lya was getting dangerously close to that threshold.

“…The prospect of a permanent military presence in Bothan Space must be considered very carefully…even if as has been proposed by the Emperor it will largely be staffed by local recruits and Bothan Veterans.” 
Lop as’Ken brushed back her greying fur as she paused for breath in her speech
“Our neutrality in galactic affairs has been tested of late, the Battle of Bothawui is a reminder to all of us that our diplomatic ability cannot safeguard us from all threats. However…”
Ruby noted the intent eyes of both the Anti and Pro Empire parties on as’Kens next words, looking for any indication she – and more importantly her voting block – had shifted their way.
“Following the defeat of the Separatists - the most prominent Military threat in the Galaxy against which the Empire would garrison forces here to protect us from is the Empire itself!”

A deep cheer rose from the Independence supporters
“But political pragmatism dictates it would be unwise to make an enemy of the Empire by slapping back the paw that offers the gringa…”

Cheers turned to hisses as the Pro-Empire side lifted – as’Ken kept playing the middle, exactly what she was waiting for no one knew…certainly the inducements already being offered were not working. If she held out for too long Ruby feared they might target her deputies and split the moderates entirely.

Once more the Council went into recess with nothing resolved.

Sapphire kept low across the rooftops, his stealth suits dampening field draining the battery faster than usual as it nullified the moon light. 

Sapphire had traced the crates from the outer space port toward the Industrial district for nearly an hour. It was obvious what was inside, the question was who was on the receiving end.

Shuffling across the ungainly domed rooftop the cargo hauler turned toward a bottling plant.  Sapphire still had a 45% charge…just enough to get in and place a few listening devices.

Through vents, access tunnels and oily intakes the meeting place was finally reached, nearly 40 Bothans unloading the crates full of diverted Clone weapons – Bothawui had strong restrictions on the ownership of lethal weapons, each could face a life sentence for this – but that was the polices concern not the SpyNet.

Ruby hauled up another pack of power packs as the Ar’Krai Separatist Division leader oversaw the unloading.  They had used the SpyNet to divert numerous shipments in the confusion following the ‘end’ of the war over the last few months, in this case it was Republic equipment but mostly it had been siphoned from the Balstech manufactories on Druckenwell –at least the Separatists wouldn’t mind anymore…

The Ar’Krai had gathered more and more support as the war dragged on, now with the Republic dissolved it was getting more recruits than it could arm, who saw the fall of the Republic as a chance to become fully independent.  Sapphire could empathize, but saw it as short sighted, Bothawui still lacked a substantive fleet and the planetary shield system wouldn’t repel the Praetorians ships if the rumours that even the SpyNet couldn’t confirm yet were true.

Ruby kept eyes open as the Division leader ascended rickety industrial stairs to meet a dark figure, silently cursing not having an excuse to get close enough to place a nantie drone.

Sapphire had not such difficulty moving like the wind to the tops of the boxy overseer’s office that looked across the bottling plant come armoury. Suit sensors read the vibrations the dampening device tried to hide from prying ears…a Viper Arms V4 dampener…how quaint…

“Master Jedi, we are honoured by your presence…as you can see the resistance grows stronger every day…what news from the resistance elsewhere?”

“Like you we continue to grow…there have been some setbacks but the Council in Exile gathers more systems to the cause by the day…”

Sapphire sent a burst stream transmission to the net to cross reference the voice…it was Bothan Sapphire could tell…
[Huddora, Kai – Jedi Master] the result returned.

“Bothawui has become the flash point, once it declares independence the other systems will immediately proffer defensive alliances, against such a tidal wave the Empire will have no choice but to accede,”

“The councillor opposite, First Speaker, is so misguided as to believe it is better to be ruler of a backwater sector than member of a progressive new galaxy…” Fey’lya called over the hubbub of counter insults

“If he had his way he would cut us off from the Empire, and with it all the companies and trade we rely upon for our prosperity…mark my words a vote against the Empire is a vote for economic regression – one need only look to the Good works being done on Corellia – a 45% drop in violent crime, a 4% increase in employment, nearly 300,000 children off the streets and in school – this is Operation Clean Up – this is…”
“And how many dead!”
“The member…”
The Speaker tapped his gavel to bring a semblance of order
“Councillor Fey’lya…your time is up…Councillor Da’Ara…”
“Thank you speaker…it is clear to me that Councillor Fey’lya is never more satisfied than when he is being ridden like a dewback, Palpatines bit firmly in his mouth!”
It was a crass comment even for Da’Ara Sapphire thought.
“Yes this lackey spews up the ejaculate rammed in by his Imperial overlords onto this Council and expects us to thank him for it…he is a disgrace and a traitor,”

A sudden hush went across the room

“Sir! I demand that last comment be withdrawn!” Borsl Fey’lya, Rorks Son burst up, to be called traitor was a serious offence, Ruby was amazed Da’Ara had stooped that low…unless he had proof.

Rork tried to calm the younger Councillor as the Po-empire party yelled condemnation across the floor, the gavels beating lost in the cacophony of insult and threat.

The figurative bloodletting was reaching fever pitch, blackmails, dirt files, bribes, Clan alliances were all bandied to try and win votes for the next session, another session closer to the arrival of the Legate. 

Senator Polo Se’Lab on Coruscant remained unable to deter the official visit, and without any firm positon coming from the factitious Bothawui had nothing to negotiate with but his wit and wisdom.

“I fear that the Legates arrival may inflame the situation further your highness, Bothans can be a stubborn people, being one I can attest to it,”

Lady Kari, Head of Imperial Administration looked less than amused between her statuesque guardians.

“Were it to be delayed just a little while…”

“We have already delayed two weeks on your advice…and this was after you declined three of my invitations to discuss the matter – this is obfuscation,” she said directly

“We have significantly compromised on our demands for integration already, and I see not even the politeness to allow an embassy within your sector to reciprocate…The Emperor has personally expressed deep concerns regarding the situation,”

Of course he has…no doubt Mira told you herself…Polo mused.

“You remained on the Sidelines during the Clone Wars, but you cannot bluff your way out of a choice this time, either tender a secession from the Empire or accept the revised Integration package, in fact I will further amend it, two Academies of no more than 2000 students and only four Naval Bases staffed by majority Bothans instead of five…the garrison on Bothawui reduced from 30 to 20 thousands, maximum 25% non Bothawui citizens – no other system is receiving such concessions.”

No other system has a Spynet you wish to gain control of…

“That is very generous your highness and I’m sure will allay many concerns…however I’m afraid more issues remain there is the matter of taxation and the Imperial Citizen register…”

“The issue Senator is are you a part of the Empire or not…” she cut him off
“The details can be sorted out once your Council makes that decision, I am a very patient woman…but delay too long and the decision will be made for you.”
–
Ruby had almost everything needed…almost…deftly piloting the little drone Ruby could only hope this yielded the final piece to prove treason.

Fey’Lya was in the midst of the Exhibition on Modern Kothisian Art, he was the artist’s patron so had reasonable excuse, most of the conversations thus far were typically boring, although Fey’Lya’s interest in the more morbid of the pieces was a titbit for his file.

Finally he spoke in quieter tones to an older Bothan while observing a piece entitled ‘Order 69’ a grim parody of the death of Ki-Adi-Mundi on Mygeeto – instead of blaster bolts the moving picture showed him sprayed with confetti from Palpatines…male member…

“A significant improvement Councillor…the Legate is most pleased,” the last vote had been lost by only 40 votes

“Coruscants offer was very generous…”

“Kolthis will profit immensely from the new Academy and Naval facilities…and Clan Alya will benefit from having one of their own as Senator,”

So that was the game, Fey’Lya wanted to get into the Senate, not satisfied with hid influence here he wished to play on a galactic stage – that was respectable as a pursuit for a Bothan, but not at the price of every other Bothans freedom.

“There remain a few more recalcitrant members waiting for higher offers….” Fey’lya noted amidst the hubbub of voices around him.

“Keep your promises in check Fey’Lya remember who is paying the bill at the end of the day,” the older Bothan noted before turning away.
--
At the same party Sapphire kept a close eye on Lop as’Ken, her moderate party was fracturing, and she didn’t like it – her only option left was to finally choose aside or find herself irrelevant – better Fey’Lya or Da’Ara’s deputy than a lost voice in the howling winds of the Council.

As’Ken was here to confirm what she had been advised, if it was true her decision would be made.  But she had to see with her own eyes.

Across the room she saw him, the proof that the Resistance and Council in Exile was real – Jedi Master Kai Huddora.

Turning to her wife, also her key assistant she whispered
“Send out the message immediately, The time is now,”

“…unable to produce a rational argument to cover his Xenophobia, the Councillor opposite instead resorts to personal attacks and allegations with no proof whatsoever, this is the man who would be king of a backwater…this is the man you should vote against!” Fey’lya screamed as the votes were cast once more

“298 for 310 against” Once more the Imperial Integration Bill was defeated…but by an ever narrowing margin as the moderates split following Senator Se’Bals revised offer from Coruscant, and more importantly news that the Legate was now on Krant, a mere 6 hour jump from Bothawui itself.

Once the Legate arrived to negotiate directly instead of through the Senator and secret intermediaries Da’Ara and the Independence party would be significantly disadvantaged – they had no more to offer supporters than what they had already promised, but the Legate could charm and sweeten the Imperial offer further once she was on site.  Sapphire could see the end nearing.

Da’Ara once more stood to begin his predictable tirade of a call to vote on whether to be in the Empire at all.  Yet he didn’t.

“I move…that standing orders be suspended that I might make an open contribution,”
“Seconded” As’Ken called out surprising everyone – the moderates had finally chosen as side
The Speaker gestured permission without a vote given as’Kens support and Da’ara began.
“Speaker, fellow Councillors, I submit,” he raised a pile of papers and datadiscs
“this evidence that Councillor Fey’Lya has breached the Treason Act of the Bothan Council Session 1 Sitting 3, by actively conspiring and entering into the paid service of a foreign agent,”

The roar began on the other side immediately

“Actively inviting the occupation of Imperial military forces on Bothawui in exchange for a position in the Imperial Senate…Speaker, fellow patriots I can think of nothing more despicable, more traitorous that this act…and her is the proof confirmed by the SpyNet itself – I demand he immediately be removed from office and all those who voted with him suspended pending investigation into their complicity!”

The Speaker looked about as the volume rose…if he suspended the entire Pro-Imperial faction the Council would not have a quorum, it would require new elections, that would take three months at least and the Legate would arrive within a week…Of course the Empire should respect their democratic processes.  And perhaps a new Council would be less indecisive…

“I move!”  Fey’Lya tried to get over the vast noise

“I Move…as I am still a member of this Council, that Da’Aara be cast out as a traitor!”

A hush fell once more and all eyes went to Fey’Lya

“I have evidence of his complicity in smuggling arms, bribing members of the Defence force, and conspiring with foreign agents who call themselves member of a Council in Exile…and yes my Evidence too,” He waved a data disc

“Is confirmed by the Spy Net, I make no…” he paused against the howling across the chamber   

“I make no secret of my support for a Bothawui working with the Empire, but this Traitor, this fiend would see us become a backwater, a dumping ground, allied to a moth-eaten ramshackle alliance of good for nothing reprobates that Operation Clean Up seeks to purge from our worlds!”

The Speaker shook his elongate face scratching his chin fur…what the hell was he meant to do now?

Hammering his gavel he reasserted control

“Order! We will have Order here!”

Finally they quietened down

“Both Councillor Fey’Lya and Da’Ara will submit their documents to the Clerk for distribution to all members and submission to the Bothawui Police for investigation, pending their findings, both Councillors are suspended until further notice!”

Rage flew over him in waves but the two Councillors played the noble statesmen to bow and depart as the normal order began to resume.
Borsk Fey’lya now stood

“Councillors I seek leave to make a grievance,”

“Seconded!” Ruby called

“Councillors I would like to express my deep sadness at the recent loss of an honoured Bothan, a noble Bothan from another era now gone…Jedi Master Kai Huddora recently deceased in fighting on Druckenwell against Separatist Remnant’s…I served with the Jedi Master there recently before returning home…”

“What do you mean he’s dead!” As’Ken screamed across as Borsk Fey’Lya who now led the pro-Imperial parts a his father was investigated

“I saw him the other night at an art exhibition, and have details from the SpyNet agent Ruby that he is in league with the Ar’Krai?”

“I don’t know what false information you have been fed Lop, but I assure you Master Huddora is dead…I fear Da’Ara has been trying to play you with promises of ‘Council in Exile’ and resistance movements that don’t exist.”

As’Ken flopped back into the seat opposite Borsk, she didn’t know what to believe anymore.

Ruby watched the votes slowly trickle in, things had changed since the formal charges were laid against both Da’Ara and Fey’Lya, the Secessionists without a leader had flocked to make deals with Borsk as as’Ken was now known to be on his side. 

Slowly the count trickled up, the speaker stood.
“The Vote for the Revised Imperial Integration Act is 489 for 117 against,” the two less than the full 608 due to the two suspended Councillors, with such a margin their vote didn’t matter anyway.

“I Rule, it is passed by the Council and shall come into effect in fourteen days,”

Leagte Lysi stepped onto Bothawui just after her guard, General Rwwnahh and Admiral Senes just behind followed by various administrators prepared to begin integration.

Amongst the crowd of Bothans in full Council regalia to greet her were the two she had met on Druckenwell two months before – Borsk Fey’Lya or Sapphire as he called himself, and amongst the civilian crowd behind the Honour Guards lines the Seneschal that was once known as Kai Huddora – soon they would place him at the head of the SpyNet.

Borsk looked full of himself behind the Bothan Councils Speaker, his ambition had been a useful tool to gain Bothawuis acquiescence, now that character trait was no longer useful to her.

<Teach the overgrown gobril his place> she thought across to her uncle, also the captain of her Praetorian Guard.

<Gladly sweetling.> 

As per LSG's suggestion, I'm reposting this from the "Interludes" thread.  And with LSG's newest submission, I can't wait to continue this alternate narrative  ;)
******************
(https://thumb.ibb.co/md7JPy/Aidyn2.jpg) (https://ibb.co/md7JPy)
Dark Harbinger

Then…
The prisoner writhed in both agony as well as ecstasy, suspended in the Renewal Chamber, his face contorted in a silent scream.

“…Him?”  The man said to his companion.  “But I thought that he was diametrically opposed to—”  The woman suddenly cut him off.

“He was.  But you know what Mira says: ‘better an honest enemy than a false friend.’”  She touched her lips in introspection.  “Besides: for as deficient as he is…was—” she corrected herself, “—he died defending his family, his ideals despite facing insurmountable odds.  That is a quality that cannot be bought or cloned.”

The man slowly nodded, understanding at last.  “I see.  And what shall we do with him once he’s undergone the transition?”

The woman gave a small smile.  “She already has plans for him.”  Pressing a button, red drops of thick, viscous blood landed on the prisoner’s head and chest.  But for all the macabre rain that pelted him, the prisoner didn’t react to the stimuli at all, his focus fixed upon some unseen event.

“Take over here.”  The woman commanded her companion.  “I’m needed at the Renewal Chamber.”

Shedding her cloak, the woman entered the enclosure and stepped up upon the dais, her white one piece in stark contrast to the drops of blood decorating the prisoner.  And placing her hands upon his body, the woman’s work really began…

            <<<<< >>>>>

Now…
“Welcome, Lord Seneschal, to Mandalore.  I am Preceptor Bo-Katan Kryze, sister to the Duchess.”  Despite the smooth delivery of the Preceptor’s pleasantry, her eyes scanned the Seneschal’s ship.  “Forgive me, Lord Seneschal but I was expecting Legate Ya—”

“Legate Yara shall be arriving forthwith; I am here to oversee and effect Imperial security measures and—should I deem that such is required—the appointment of a Quaestor.”  Bo-Katan could only see his full brown beard, the rest of the man’s face was covered by his deep, black hood.

“I see.  In that case, please follow me.”  The tall, red headed dignitary bowed perfunctorily before adopting a steady gait from the landing berth and heading towards the Sundari Royal Palace.

Without haste, the Seneschal fell into step beside Preceptor Kryze, his dark hood hiding his face.  But even draped over his armored shoulders, his dark cloak did nothing to obfuscate his Praetorian armor as it gleamed pristinely white, the Scales of Aethenaea carved into the breastplate in low relief indicative of his station.  And while his head was affixed straight at the palace before him, his dark, completely black eyes saw all before him, his ears picking up minute vibrations, even those below the hearing threshold of most sentients.

“On behalf of the Duchess, I would like to extend Mandalore’s approval of Princess Mira’s most current proposals, especially Operation Clean-Up.”  Bo-Katan’s long red hair swayed in the gentle, temperate breeze, her seemingly innocent face almost fawning over her companion.  But if he noticed, he showed nothing in his demeanor.

“Princess Mira does not require the Duchess’ approval, only her obedience.”  The Seneschal’s tone was aloof.  “It would be a shame if the Praetorians had to establish a garrison on Mandalore.”  He said cryptically.  “For the Duchess’ protection, of course.”

“Of course, Lord Seneschal.”  Bo-Katan’s reply was just a hair too swift, her tone too easygoing.  Still…such was not concrete proof.  And his Goddess had been explicit…

As they walked together into the palace through the Great Hall and finally into the Royal Chamber, Bo-Katan had spoken non-stop, having obviously mastered the art of “small talk.”

The Lord Seneschal merely ignored her, although he would sporadically vocalize during a break in the Preceptor’s words or say “That’s interesting” when she took a breath.  But now that they both stood in front of Mandalore’s ruling monarch, Bo-Katan fell silent, both of their attention directed at the austere woman sitting upon the throne.

Regal, if severe, the blonde woman looked down upon them both, even the Lord Seneschal.  Quite a feat given his…reputation.  But the Duchess possessed a spine of quadranium, to say nothing of her familiarity...

“My Lord Seneschal…Her Royal Highness, Duchess Satine Kryze.  Your Grace…my Lord Seneschal, representative of the Emperor and Princess Mira of the Benevolent Empire.” Bo-Katan's voice echoed throughout the chamber.

Inwardly, Satine smirked at that last phrase.  …“Benevolent Empire”…what a contradiction in terms… Her face remained impassive.  But even as she thought it, Satine could swear that the Seneschal had grinned…almost as if he’d read her mind… Steeling herself, she adopted a serious bearing as if donning armor for battle.  Which she very much was.

“Thank you, Preceptor.  You may leave us.  I’m sure that there is also no need for the Ducal Watch to attend me, not while the Lord Seneschal is here to protect me.  After all, who would dare defy the Princess Mira?”  Satine’s blue eyes were predatory, her back straight.

“Forgive me, Your Grace.  But I represent the Emperor and serve at his pleasure.”  His face was cast from durasteel although his black eyes seemed to gleam.

Satine arose to her feet, gliding down the stairs to stand in front of the Seneschal, placing a delicate hand upon the hard, white vambraces of his armor.  “My apologies, Lord Seneschal.  I merely wished to reinforce the Civil Reforms that the Princess Mira has, ah, ‘suggested.’”  Satine’s voice held good-humored laughter in it, and her lips a smile that did not reach her eyes.  “After all, it was the Princess who helped heal Mandalore from the many scars of war that disfigured our planet.  We even have several forests growing in some of the equatorial zones, even where the fighting from the Civil War had been fiercest!”  She spread her arms dramatically, slowly revolving in place.  When she stopped, she smiled coyly.  “Forgive me Lord Seneschal.  After having almost lost our planet—and as a result of our own negligence—I’m sure you can imagine how wonderful it is to see the specter of war being erased from Mandalore.  And in my lifetime…”  Satine’s voice held reverence when speaking of such.

The Lord Seneschal smiled knowingly.  “Of course, Your Grace.  As you know, the Emperor—and Princess Mira—only want what’s best for the Benevolent Empire…and their subjects.”  His black eyes drilled into the Duchess’.  “Including…no, especially the Imperial subjects of Mandalore.

Satine gave a winning smile.  “As do we, my Lord Seneschal, as do we.”  She deliberately looked around his cloaked head, her face adopting a look of consternation.  “Excuse me, but was not Legate Yara to attend me?”  Satine’s blue eyes were large and seemingly full of concern.  “I was assured that the Legate would be in attendance to help facilitate the Integration Protocols…”  She trailed off, disappointment in her voice.

The man affected one of his almost-smiles.  “Forgive me, Your Grace.  The Emperor considers Mandalore important and a high priority concerning this visit; apropos of such, I’ve been dispatched ahead of the Legate to ensure that the proper security measures are in place.”  A ray of sunshine glinted of the Scales upon his armor, a direct contrast to his black eyes.

Looking intently within them, the Duchess stared for a long moment, almost as if she were searching, waiting for some sense of recognition.  Whatever she saw, her lips once again spread in a congenial smile.  “I understand, my Lord Seneschal.  After what I’ve heard, I’m not surprised; after all, the Legate has been busy.  Even out here in the Outer Rim, Legate Yara’s reputation precedes her.  I’ve even heard that she’s been given the 7th New Imperial Fleet as a result of her successes during Operation Clean-Up…”

As Satine was speaking, the man noticed one of her many attendants approach, silently hanging back two meters until the Duchess noticed them.  Motioning the attendant over, the Duchess made conciliatory noises while asking to be momentarily excused.  The Seneschal casually noticed that despite the close proximity, he was unable to hear a word that was said between the two.  Amused, he surmised that the attendant possessed a null-field induction device upon their person.  No matter; he would know soon enough what the interchange portended.

Nodding, Satine’s head straightened, the Duchess dismissing the attendant before she returned to the Seneschal’s side.  “My apologies, my Lord Seneschal but I’m afraid that I must attend to some matters of state.  I’m sure you understand.”  Both her face and aura were unreadable.  Nodding, the man moved to one side giving the Duchess an unadulterated path to her throne.

“Of course, Your Grace.  I, too, must implement the necessary procedures before the Legate arrives.”  Satine again smiled warmly.

“Please feel free to peruse the Palace.  And now, I’m sure that you need to refresh yourself after such a long journey.  I’ve commanded that you be given one of the Baron’s Chamber’s in the Royal wing of the palace.”  She made as if to ascend the stairs to her throne, stopping after the second step.  “Oh, my Lord Seneschal, we’re having a dinner in your honor at Concordia’s Zenith.”  The full moon was tonight and Concordia would bath Mandalore in a brilliant glow, the light reflected from Mandalore’s star.  “You would do us the honor of joining us.  Please?”  Her tone was almost pleading, but the Seneschal’s ears registered the measured cadence of the Duchess’ voice.  …The consummate politician and hostess… He thought, more than a little impressed, although his face showed nothing.

“Your Grace, I would be delighted.”  Suddenly he looked down, as if embarrassed by his attire.  “And you are correct.  I would like to take a moment to invigorate myself.  It would be unseemly for me to attend Your Grace except in my finest.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, please.  Your Grace.”  He said, bowing himself out of the Chamber and disappearing down the Halls.

Once she was quite certain that the Lord Seneschal was gone and out of earshot, Satine made a surreptitious gesture as she climbed the remaining stairs to her throne.  By the time she sat down, Bo-Katan had rejoined her sister, the red-haired woman’s innocent look nothing but a memory.  In its place was the face of a shrewd and cruel tactician.

“Do you think he suspects, Your Grace?”  Some of her red hair fell out of place.

Not immediately answering, Satine smiled, a dangerous, calculating smile.  “Absolutely.  But he only ‘suspects.’  Why else would he be here?  But we are secure; continue with our plans.”  Suddenly, Satine’s face grew deathly serious, her hand shot out to grasp Bo-Katan’s forearm.  “Sister…be careful.  Trust no one.”  Her sister nodded before bowing deferentially to the Duchess.  Turning, she went to make arrangements for the transport of munitions and materiel.  And of course the newest intel.

As Bo-Katan did so, Satine sat contemplating the suddenness of current events and their ramifications.  After working and then reworking her plans in her head, she then amused herself by wondering again just how many Jedi it would take to kill a Praetorian…or a Seneschal…

            <<<<< >>>>>

As soon as the door to his chamber closed, the Seneschal reviewed the entire layout of the Palace grounds, his eidetic memory not only flawless but indeed the only tool he required.

He knew that the Duchess was conspiring, plotting against his Goddess and her Benevolent Empire.  All he required was physical proof.

And he thought he knew how to finally get it.  The Mandalorians would provide all that he required.  Now, he only needed to do his duty.

Reaching from behind his belt, he withdrew a small, black orb.  Focusing, he activated the device, waiting patiently.  He did not have to wait long.

“My Seneschal, so good to hear from you.  And so soon!  What have you learned?”  The disembodied voice was melodic and pleasant, sounding as if the speaker were in the room with him.

“My Goddess…your concerns are valid.  Mandalore is conspiring against you.”

“Do you have proof?”  Not a rebuke but merely curiosity.

“Not yet…but I will.  I promise.  For the good of the Empire.”  The Seneschal nodded, certain.

“I know, my Seneschal.  May the Blessings of the Three guide and protect you.”  With that, the connection was severed, leaving the Seneschal somewhat…empty.  But it was always so, especially since he’d come to serve her.  Obey her.

Worship her.

But he knew what was needed.  Reaching again to his belt, he withdrew a lightsaber and activated it.  The rich blue blade illuminated the entire room…much like his first conversations with his Goddess had illuminated him.  Or rather, who he used to be.  

And as the Lord Seneschal prepared for the violence of the night, a tiny part of him ruminated upon the man he used to be, the one he’d left behind, dross upon the dais of the Renewal Chamber.  He was no longer that man and neither did he answer to his former name.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was dead.  There was only the Lord Seneschal.  And he had a job to do.

I really like messing with Reality, so this alternate reality is really cool to me. For those of you who have been following Shadow of the Outcast, you may recognize parts of this from it's Prologue. With a little help and tweaking, I managed to change it to fit in with this "Mirror Empire" scenario. Let me know what you think. I will probably do more with my own characters should you guys enjoy it. Anyways, this was mostly just for fun, but I'd figure I'd share it since LSG got this thing rolling.

---

“They’ve come for us.”

Taegin awoke to the sound of his master Denna Eem’s voice. They had been in hiding for the past year. Ever since Order 66 had been initiated, the two Jedi had gone unnoticed by the Empire. They did not know if any of the other Jedi had survived the Supreme Chancellor--now Emperor’s–order to exterminate all the Jedi. They always hoped that some had, but they knew it was unlikely. Now it seemed, the Empire had finally caught up with them. As they quickly packed up their few meager belongings, they could hear the Stormtroopers searching through the woods. They were getting closer, and the two men knew that it would not be long before they were upon them. They were so close now that the sound metallic voices could be heard through the trees.
   
“Fan out, and search every inch of these woods. The Princess and the Emperor want them found.” They were saying. As the troops began to close in, the Jedi were ready. Over the last year they had learned to use the shadows for cover. They quickly ran. Disappearing into the early morning light, but they could hear the troopers behind them still.

“Sergeant, we found their camp. By the looks of it, they’ve only been gone a few minutes. My heat sensors are still picking up signatures from where they slept.” One trooper said.

“Good work, we’re closing in.” Said the Sergeant, “Let’s move, they can’t be far away.”

As the Stormtroopers began to give chase, the Jedi ran faster. Suddenly they heard it, or rather felt it through the Force. It was something dark and foreboding.
   
“There is only one thing that could be,” Taegin’s master said, “A Praetorian!”
   
They continued to run, but from the feeling of despair, they knew it would do them no good.

“Keep going Taegin.” His master said.

But the young Jedi knew that it was the last time he would ever see his beloved master again. The bond shared between Master and Apprentice was too great. Teagin knew through a slight tremor in the Force, that his master was going to face Praetorian. Alone. So he ran. Ran faster than he ever had before. But then he stopped. Or rather was stopped. He was frozen. He could not move. He had heard that there were rumors about the Emperor and the Princess changing their mind about Order 66. That they no longer cared whether the Jedi died or not. Apparently that was not so.

Not only that, but  he could no longer feel the simple yet beautiful song that normally so perfectly synchronized with his own coming from his master. He knew then that the Praetorian had killed him. Denna Eem was a great Jedi, and an amazing warrior, but no one, not even a Blue Zabrak Jedi could defeat a Praetorian. And there were rumored to be hundreds of them. Another rumor that had never been confirmed, but it had never needed to be. Using every ounce of will that he had, he broke free, and spun, calling his saber to his hand. He could see the dark mass, or more accurately see the absence of light as the Praetorian slowly strode closer. Summoning what little courage he had left, Taegin charged. He had been trained well, and had rarely been defeated by any of the other padawans of his age back at the temple. And since then, he had grown even more powerful. Still, if his master hadn’t stood a chance, what hope did he have.

As if reading his thoughts, he heard a voice speak. He assumed it was from the Praetorian, though he couldn’t be sure.

“None!” It echoed through the forest, and into his very soul.

Half-heartedly swinging his saber at the Praetorian, he stumbled. The saber disappeared from his hands and reappeared a few meters away. And the Praetorian stood untouched and unharmed. Falling to his knees, the boy began to sob. There was nothing he could do. His master was dead, and he was lost without him.

“Kill me now. Please.” he pleaded with the Praetorian.

“There is one other option.” The voice boomed. “The Princess Mira has given you the opportunity to return with me to Coruscant and join our most Benevolent Empire. If you refuse, I will grant your plea. Consider carefully before making your decision.”

“I . . .  will join you.” Came his reply.

Awesome Job Taegin fits perfectly - the uncertainty of Taegin (character) not knowing what is happening - are they really after Jedi or not? How many are there? ideal for the character as he wouldn't know what is happening just that he has to run.  And perfectly fits with Mira's strategy - she won't waste potential allies - an old dedicated Jedi would resist but a young heart broken apprentice....

Anyway watch this Space I've been working on another section to delve into Mira specifically...

Yes!  Wonderful chapter TR!  Yes, you've perfectly captured the ambiance of the Mirror Empire, from the inexorable spread of influence of the Benevolent Empire to the feeling of utter capitulation that Taegin realizes...

Yes, LSG put it perfectly: the Princess would never be so wasteful as to dismiss a useful potential ally.  Given Taegin's youth coupled with his strength, I could honestly see Mira "offering" him a place within her Empire; a Quaestor or Seneschal perhaps?  How so incredibly interesting, the possibilities... ;)

I really, REALLY hope that you continue with this particular narrative TR; there's just SO much potential here  ;D

Thanks guys. I wasn't sure what you'd all think, but I'll definitely be doing some more. I have one for Caedon spinning around in my head already. I will probably do one or two more with Taegin to set the tone, but then if you guys want to, I will allow you to run with what has been set up. Who knows where Mr. Roan will end up.

The transformation was striking.  Gone were the curved machined columns, replaced by dark wood with gold carved edgings to cream panels, richly framed mirrors and paintings.  It did remind Bail of Naboo as would be expected for the House of Palpatine, but some features were odd - a circle of stones surrounding a hearth of some kind in the far corner seemed out of place, as if part of a historical re-enactment village.

Bail was flanked by Mon Mothma of Chandrilla and Meena Tills of Mon Cala, the three leaders of the Delegation of 2000 – Senators who just before the Dissolution of the Republic had formally protested Palpatine's actions and demanded the return to the Senate the emergency powers he had claimed following the conclusion of the war. 

Instead of rescinding such powers the Emperor and his designated heirs had accumulated even more in the Imperial Constitution ratified by a majority of Senators under the unsettling gaze of the Praetorians and Clones.

“Senators, welcome,” the Princess Mira smiled upon the only chair in the room, resplendent in red and black, adorned with golden laces.  For more than a few moments Bail felt himself tremble under her Regal slight smile – no matter how many pictures of her adorned the streets and Holo-net to see her in person was somehow….overwhelming.

Bail bowed slightly noting the two body guards in the corners –almost invisible in the shadows.

“Your Highness, forgive me we were expecting to meet with the Emperor…”

“His Majesty, my uncle is indisposed at the moment, undergoing further treatment in relation to the injuries he suffered at the hands of the Jedi Assassins…” She paused as Bail felt Mothma’s glance the Emperor seemed to be indisposed quite often.

“…However you may present your petition to me and we may discuss your concerns,” she lifted a single finger and an additional four Praetorians he had not known were there appeared with chairs and a small desk for them.

“Please begin Senator,”

Bail swallowed and handed the Petition of the 2000 - Revised to a Praetorian who inspected it, passed it to a second who also looked it over then finally handed it to the Princess who scanned through it with much too much speed to be reading the 200 page product of the Cantham House meetings in any detail.

“Your Highness, under the previous administration, during the time of war the Chancellor accumulated a number of emergency powers to his office, many were understandable given the necessities of rapid executive decisions in a time of war, however following his accession the Emperor has retained and expanded these powers,”

Tills nodded for him to proceed as the Princess continued to flick through the Petition.

“We are concerned with the increasingly arbitrary powers accumulated to the Emperor – and your own – most exalted office” he added that point in off the cuff from the rehearsed speech

“And demand that some of these powers be rescinded in light of the end of the war having removed their justification.  In addition to this the Delegation has over these last three months observed several troubling changes in policy, an increase in military output and spending, and military actions on Rep…Imperial Worlds that are not under threat from Separatists stragglers.”

She held up the document and a Praetorian swiftly took it away. 
“It is,” Bail began to conclude “Our intention to table these demands during the next sitting of the Senate, but out of respect for your office we wished to present them to his Majesty first so he might have a response prepared.”

Her posture back to the Regal dominance displayed poise and certainty as she replied.

“Very well, We are happy to accede to demands 4, 5, 6, 11, 13, 22 and 23 immediately….”

Had he not been a seasoned politician Bails jaw would’ve dropped to the planets core – of 25 demands the Delegation had come up with, to immediately agree to 6 of them, relating to reducing restriction on the press, censorship, curfews and various summary powers.

“On Behalf of the Emperor of course…now item 8 that Clone forces not engage in military actions on ‘compliant’ Imperial worlds, We’re afraid this demand cannot be met as it directly contradicts the spirit of the Emperors most cherished desires to combat organised crime which We’re sure you’ll agree has flourished during the war,”

“Whilst we support the general principals of Operation Clean Up,” Mothma broke in

“We don’t think it is appropriate to use military forces to deal with what is a policing issue, additional resources should be provided to local authorities to…”

“The same local authorities that have been unable or unwilling to stop the Criminal Syndicates growing in the first place, a significant number of whom we have evidence have been taking bribes for a number of years?  Senator, Chandrilla might be free of gangland slums, but Corellia, Taris, and Denon are not – even Coruscant is riddled with areas where you - a strong, intelligent woman would not walk alone – We will not tolerate this situation any longer”

Something about the emphasis on the word ‘woman’ struck Bail as strange

“And what better use for the millions of incorruptible, disinterested Clone soldiers than cleaning the streets of the Empire they fought to defend?”

There was undeniable logic to her position,

“That is no excuse for seizures, massacres, the wholesale demolition of vast swathes of low income housing,” Tills interjected in her gravelly voice

“I would not call the slums We have demolished low income housing…but you are correct Senator, unfortunately the Clones have been overzealous at times treating the operation as just another battlefield, that is why We have increased military spending, referring to your Demand 12…we need more Academies to train a new generation of non-Clone officers to provide a more…Sentient sympathetic command structure.”

She surveyed each Senator in turn,

“In the interim however…We are willing to place Senatorial delegates amongst the frontline forces, increase the number of embedded journalists and will support the establishment of an Operational Oversight Senatorial Committee – with powers to order a cessation of operations and prosecute criminal behaviour.”

“Powers to investigate and prosecute?” Mothma queried

“Absolutely, We don’t want to see crimes committed against Our Citizens by Our Soldiers any more than you do…and if they are We wish to see justice done. We are certain you can draft an appropriate motion to the Senate to establish such a committee, and We will ensure it is resourced according to your requirements,”

“I’m sure we can prepare something before the next session…” Mothma murmured across Bail to Tills, the Mon Cala gargling an affirmative

“Now Demands 20 and 21…Demand 20 that all Amendments to the Taxation System comply with the principles of the Non-discrimination Act…what are you referring to exactly,”

Tills took the lead “That the new Taxation regime penalises males…automatically deducting 50% of their income for child support if they are fathers, and 30% overall additional taxation for all males is excessively onerous”

“You don’t think men should pay child support? Or that this is the best way to reduce gender pay gaps…Males on average earn 30% more than females, hermaphrodite, mitochondrial and monogender species…isn’t it only fitting the be taxed 30% more?”

Tills gurgled a concession,
“That is true statistically, but the way toward a more equal society is not by taxing one group of people based on their gender – that is discrimination,”

“I prefer to call it affirmative action,” Mira replied dropping the Royal ‘We’ to express a personal opinion.
“These measures are needed to fund Our plan for universal Health Care and Paid Maternity leave, We will not compromise on those policies,” Mira’s voice was firm,

“But We are willing to negotiate on how they are funded…we might be instead willing to create a new income tax threshold…say 45% for Credits earned over 300,000…some 82% of earners are male anyway…and an increase the company tax rate from 35% to 37.5%...but We would require your support on strengthening measures to prevent Tax Avoidance,”

Bail could barely process the offer in its entirety all at once, it crossed multiple issues, he looked to Tills who was much more up to date on the new Taxation Regime being proposed to reply.

“That is…reasonable…perhaps if the compliance measures are strengthened, which we do support along with the goals of the maternity leave and healthcare schemes…we might only need a 1% tax increase,”

“Better to play it safe for now with 2.5%,” Mira replied, “I’m sure they will find loopholes no matter what and We don’t want to have to reduce the program because corporations are skimping on taxation.”

Not that Mira was overtly convened, the Aedile for Finance and Commerce already had a list of CEO’s, Presidents and Company Directors who needed to receive a ‘visit’ from a Praetorian to convince them of the benefits of paying their fair share of tax.

“Now demand 21 the rollout of the new centralized administration…’Demand that Centralization measures not be enforced as standardized but adapted to cultural and social needs of individual systems and regional,’” Mira recited despite not having the Petition with her anymore.

“The Republic suffered because it permitted too many wasteful paralleled systems of administration…We do not wish to repeat this mistake. But We can conceded some regional variation where absolutely necessary, and perhaps the Aedies have been over enthusiastic in rolling out the change…an extension from a two year deadline to three perhaps,”

“With an assurance of no system worth off in terms of administrative resourcing,” Mothma queried
Mira paused to consider yet somehow Bail suspected it was for show,
“No worse off…on current funding Credit value…we will make up savings from the increased efficiency by not supplementing for inflation,”
Mon looked to Bail then Tills, the Delegation did want many of the administrative reforms…it wasn’t a bad deal – he nodded.

“We can accept that,” Mothma nodded

“Excellent now…oh I’m afraid I have another appointment very soon – can we just address demand 3 and speak on the others later…let us say tomorrow morning?”

They already had far more to work with than Bail could’ve hoped for

“We can arrange that,” Tills agreed,

“Good now Demand 3…the Jedi…” Mira began “We have already rescinded Order 66…but allowing the reestablishment of the Jedi Order with all Ranks and Privileges…We are afraid We cannot accept that.”
“The Jedi play an important role in dispute negotiation and maintaining Galactic peace, ever since the Ruusan reformation they…” Bail protested

Mira held up a hand

“You needn’t remind me of their storied history Bail…can I call you Bail? But even now my uncle endures ongoing facial tics due to their assassination attempt – and even if it were not personal their time is past – the Imperial Army will take on the functions of peacekeeping and security, and We trust the Senate is more than capable of taking over dispute resolution,”

“Then what of the remaining Jedi, the survivors?” Bail queried, knowing very well he was currently sheltering over a dozen on Alderaan.

“We will offer an amnesty, they served well in the Clone Wars and deserve compensation, a pension, 200,000 credits a year for their natural life if they register and rescind their Oaths to the defunct Republic,”

Bail was not worried that Jedi would refuse, rather he feared too many would accept such a generous offer

“And if they wish I’m happy to accept them back into the Imperial Army as consultants or Officers,” Mira added

“And what of the Temple?” Tills added – rumours were it was to be demolished

“Jedi philosophy as I understand,” Mira smiled red and deep

“Eschews material possessions, and as they are no longer a military force, they have no need for a fortified facility…if they wish to establish a new Temple, then they are free to do so – the Empire is open to beings of all species and Religions,”

Bail felt his heart skip as Mira’s eyes fixed on him - and only him - as if speaking to his secret directly.

“They will enjoy all the privileges of being an Imperial Citizen so long as they abide by the Law and do not hold themselves above it as the former Jedi Order did.”

They remained silent for moment – what happened the night the Temple burned was still not fully explained, the evidence of a Jedi coup limited to the assassination attempt, no documents had been found or informers come forth about a planned coup – the official line was simply the Jedi covered their tracks and the guilty had gone into hiding.

“Well Meena, Bail, Mon I think that was rather productive!” Mira beamed

“I’m so glad you came to me with these issues, I well know the Empire is not perfect but together we can make it better…I am not averse to compromises or admonishments, I look forward to discussing the remaining items tomorrow, now if you will excuse me…”

They rose just before she did to offer slight bows to the Empress in all but name.


“We should still table it,” Mon insisted as the core members of the Delegation of 2000 sat about Bails office in Cantham House in a mirror to the meeting they had held just before the Republic had fallen.
 
“That would be premature,” Bel Ibis replied swirling his drink, Corellian whisky from his own stores,

“The Princess has already agreed to a quarter of the demands, we’ve negotiated some reasonable deals for a third…it will look silly to table it now as is, we should redraft taking into consideration what we’ve already won,”

“Hardly won, this is a placating gesture,” Nee Alavar the Seantor of Lorrd

“I don’t think so,” Tills replied, she had been very impressed with Mira,
“The Princess could easily have simply refused, or delayed, instead she has moved swiftly to implement all the changes we agreed to,”

“I concur,” Bail finally added “We didn’t get all out demands, but the fact she was willing to compromise and negotiate openly, that alone should give us pause,”

He noted of the twenty Senators just over half were nodding along with him, a few indifferent, only three seemed set against it.

<We must not concede any of our demands!> Tendau Bendon of Ithor boomed

<This Empire is a farce, the product of war madness, the Republic must be restored and the Army disbanded>

The Ithorians sentiments might’ve held before the Clone Wars but now it was simply delusional, such outbursts were making him a pariah even among the 2000, and there were rumours Ithor wanted him replaced. 

“I think that time is past my friend,” Dewell Bronk, the Kedorzhan said, always eager to help others, sitting in a small hover chair for he was at eye level to the others making up for his small stature.

“I must myself agree, negotiation is the better option, the Empire and its army are not going away, Palptaine seems far more amiable than during the war – the threat lifted and the influence of his niece have been positive…”

He paused his whiskers twitching slightly
“The Republic is gone, there is no going back – the people will be better off by us working within the new system than simply abandoning or decrying it,”
“A system that is their plaything,” Shea Sadashassa of Herdessa sneered in a rare display of emotion

“Come on Shea, it could be a lot worse,” Bel Ibis tried to soothe picking up a printed newspaper the Core Chronicle
“Look at this…” he opened to the editorial where there was a comic of Mira, caricatured to look somewhat like stripper in make up with her hand up a puppet of the Emperor, beside it an opinion column denouncing the new taxation policies as misandrist.

“This could easily be censored, the writer arrested, hell we could be arrested, but she hasn’t done that, she’s met with you Bail and Meena, delivered on every promise, and even done some things off her own back,”

“Because she is a dictator Garm, that is why she can do these things,” Shea retorted.

“We shouldn’t be thanking her for chaining her own hand, restraining her own soldiers – she shouldn’t have the power to do it in the first place,” Mon Mothma agreed

“Life isn’t perfect Mon, things are better than during the Republic…”

“Like the massacres occurring on Corellia?” Shea spat

Bel Ibis paused his mouth puckering as he worked through a response

“Corellia has struggled with crime syndicates a stone’s throw from Coronet city for years – without the Clones and Praetorians nothing would’ve changed – yes it has been bloody, yes it has been gruesome…” he paused eyes down this was an issue he had struggled with over the last month himself.

“…but it is change for the better, the Police simply didn’t have the resources or firepower to bring down gangs like the White Worms and Blood Knives,”

“And so the ends justify the means,” Mon leaned back seemingly victorious

“Let’s not get caught up in this, how Mira uses the army is secondary to the fact she is able to,” Bail intervened

“Now there remain three key demands that need to be addressed I think we can all agree on One – Imperial Decrees must be disallowable by the Senate, Two, the Emperor cannot declare a state of war or peace against a foreign power without reference to the Senate and Three the Admiralty and…other new officials,”

Everyone understood he was referring to the Aediles, Praetorians and a…being…seen in gleaming white armour known as the Lord Seneschal.

“…must be Answerable to the Senate – a select Committee if he matter is sensitive at least.” 

Most nodded in agreement

“I think as regards the other 22  original demands…well she agreed to half and we have compromises on the other,” he held up a hand to forestall Mon and Shea’s protest.

“They are not ideal, but we need to be realistic …but as Bronk noted, we’re better off working with them than against them – the Emperor could easily disband the Senate and rule by decree – the new Constitution is not perfect, and frankly given I owe my own position to my Royal lineage, it would be hypocritical to denounce a Constitutional Monarchy”

“So you will abandon the principles of Democracy and freedom because some thug controls white armoured goons,”

“Democracy is not incompatible with monarchy, Alderaan and Naboo are both examples of this,” Bail countered

“We need to vote, to table the petition as is or rework it and attempt to negotiate, all hands or limbs to table,”
Only three raised theirs, Mon, Bendon and Shea Sadashassa – there was no need to call for the counter vote
“Then we are decided, we continue negotiations, I will redraft the petition to remove the demands that have already been met and send it for resigning.”
Shea shook her head in disgust

“Pathetic, you think you can negotiate your way out of a tusk-cats mouth,”

“What is the alterative Shea?” Bail bit back “The Emperor has the army and economy, Mira is getting more popular day by day, and they are not acting like tyrants – forceful yes but not tyrannical or suppressive – we need to work with what we have, use every peaceful means we have to get a better outcome…”

She stood up and crossed her arms,

“Do what you like, but anyone who wants to really make a difference and stand up to this Tyrant in velvet skirts, you have my number,” she stormed out.

“And those are the only three demands they truly wish to see addressed,”

“Yes Highness,”

Mira paused considering their three key demands…disallowable decrees was annoying but could be circumvented simply by the fact all the Aediles were People and would implement her policies without the need for an official order – they would gradually align the administration to her will. 

Declaration of war and peace was easy enough – Mira had no desire to declare a war on anyone – it would be the Empire that was ‘heinously and cowardly attacked’ in the coming conflicts – the Senate would cry for blood. 

But making the Legates answerable to the Senate…she cut the connection to the Senator and turned to her advisors and spoke at normal Peoples speed.

“We prevaricate – the Legates task is to establish compliance, then our policies will build loyalty – we can delay the demand by giving them the Admiralty, the Legates true work will be finished within a few years –agreed,”

The true ruling clique ran through a dozen mental conversations before assenting.

Mira reactivated the connection - so far as the Senator knew the pause had been all of 0.4 seconds. 
“Very well, all of them will be addressed, you made sure to make an exit,”

“As your ordered Highness,”

“Good work Shea, Blessings of the Three guide and Protect you,”

“Gloria in Excelsis Imperator!” she replied – the feminist Senator had been an easy gain to their cause all things considered.

They now had all but a few of the 2000 Senators onside, and the most virulent opponents would now naturally turn to Shea if they were planning anything.

Mira smiled to the voluptuous statue across the room - Everything was proceeding as she had foreseen.
 

“B you look stressed,” Breha called across the holonet - despite his desire to have his wife with him, he felt for now Alderaan was safer – and she had other task to attend to as Queen of Alderaan.
 
“Nothing more than usual, actually things have gone well, we got traction on some of our key demands…but still how are things at home?”

Breha shrugged “Well enough, the New Administration is slowly transitioning our systems over…”

“Much resistance,”

“At first, but…overall the policies are popular enough to make them accept the administrative reforms – the maternity leave especially,”

No one but Bail would notice the slight sadness on her face, after five miscarriages they’d had to abandon their dream of biological children, but were looking into adopting a war orphan.

“…though the Sector Commander is still insisting on the need for an Imperial Garrison – I’m not sure how much longer I can put them off,”

Bail sighed

“We might not be able to…Bothawui managed to negotiate down the size of the Garrisons and military facilities but couldn’t avoid them – I doubt we can either…”

“Compromise?”

“Compromise…how’s Celly?” Celly Organa his sister was perfectly fine of course, but it was a convenient way to term the leader of the Jedi he was sheltering – Shaak Tii.

“A little worried but doing well, taking on more students,”

“Well the education reforms might lead to change, free her options up,”
Breahs suddenly looked stern

“Wait what time is it over there…”he watched her eyes moving to the antique clock he knew was in their room in the Alderaan Royal Palace

“You should be in bed B…”

“I know…just…take care, see you soon”

“Not soon enough B,” she smiled before signing off.

As he settled down for the night Bail couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of displacement, as though all this was wrong – not how it should be – and yet better than it ought to be.

“Too much reading legislation,” he dismissed it switching off the lights to the main study come meeting room, putting the odd feminine nude statue – the Benevolence of Wisdom which the Emperor had gifted a copy of to every Senator - into darkness, its sensual curves reminded him just how far away Breha was.

As Bail settled to sleep, the Statue awoke.

LOL    I have to admit this mirror universe is interesting, if nothing else.   Their "benevolent dictator" approach is actually not a bad one, and would have been far more beneficial to everyone than the outright power grab of the Emperor.

But I can't help but wonder how long it will be before the hyper-feminism of this crew leads to open rebellion.  They may control everything, but no beings, no matter how powerful, would be able to control and entire galaxy.

This is an excellent point, and one that I think helps to set pathos for the narrative.  Plus, as demonstrated in the chapter, there is precedent for a "democratic-monarchy-meritocracy" that is considered "good" (Alderaan and Naboo to name two).  Raises the question: if a dictatorship is "benevolent" (heh, make of that what you will) and actually WORKS, how many people would actively support it?  Without getting into politics too much, even our "democracy" isn't exactly that; rather, a democratic-republic (I won't go into any logistics of lobbyists, etc.), modeled after the Romans...which is appropriate as LSG's Mirror government also has ties to the old Roman positions  :)   But then, add into the mix the focus on a HIGHLY matriarchal social structure (again: good catch Karm) and this is what makes for such a great SW story.  INCREDIBLY intriguing!

Oh, I am loving the story, don't get me wrong.   But I have a little problem with the idea that the Republic didn't already have some form of Maternity leave?   

And the provision of amnesty for the Jedi ... if they agree to obey all laws, etc.   Made me think about my Mak'Tor Knights.  I always envisioned them as already being "under law" ... but are they?

And how would you enforce it?  Barring a super-being like an Aethan or another Jedi?

Based on my understand the Republic didn't have many centralized laws - about the only things that was common to all systems was the recognition of Credits as a means of exchange - most social policy and education was system by system basis.  Each system had its own government after all and the extent of how much they obeyed the laws of the Republic varied wildly beyond the Core worlds like Alderaan, Chandrilla, Bothawui and the like.  I'm sure those systems did have maternity leave and good social security, but somewhere poor like Ryloth, or Rodia near Hutt Space even Corellia (based on how bad it is in Solo movie...I imagine that was the case a long time before the Empire was declared) probably not that good.

As to how you police a 'super being'...well that will be looked at later.

But yeah you made a good point they can't control everything - but you don't need to after all to win an election you just need 51% of the vote....

And good catch Dutch re Alderaan and Naboo - one of the reasons i imagine in the Canon Bail couldn't really oppose the Empire was his own position is based on being part of a noble house so he can't criticize a Constitutional Monarchy without being hypocritical. Of course Palpatine then acted like a tyrant...but if the monarch acts benevolently...then what cause do you have to rebel?

But Yeah watch this space more coming!

Yeah.  i guess as an American we tend to think that the Republic was what we have here - a Constitutional Representative Republic.   But it really wasn't, it was far more like the old Articles of Confederation, with almost no central authority at all.   That's a good point.

And you're right: if a ruler is wise and benevolent, then a Monarchy can be a very good form of government.  But it all hinges on the wisdom of that ruler.  All it takes is one bad apple to ruin a successful and long-standing Kingdom or Empire...

And treating everyone equally under law is critical, or you'll end up getting rebellions.   One thing the Aethans would need to relax is their matriarchy.  It may work for them, but it won't work for everyone.   They don't need to bend all the way, but things like the taxation levels ... that kind of thing would never wash over the long term.

[/size]

This Story is an alternate telling following from Dutchmans excellent interlude The Anzats New Apprentice http://www.saberforum.com/index.php?topic=36209.165 (http://www.saberforum.com/index.php?topic=36209.165)

He was now certain he was losing his wits.  The daen nosi – the lines of fate – or what he had convinced himself were the lines that had haunted his thoughts throughout his centuries of long, often lonely life – had lead him to Dalos IV, a penal world only a rung above completely feral.  Here he had witnessed six murders under the oppressive humid sun on the crowded streets between the pyramidal buildings clustered between the ever encroaching jungle.

Now Kazic Ovarug stood blocking the only exit for an emaciated dark blond haired boy with red tinged hazel eyes, who had lifted one of his sabres as Kazic gently fended off his ‘gang’, or at the very least allies of convenience.

“Please, you have nothing to fear.  Come out.  I only wish to have returned to me my property.  If you like, I shall pay you handsomely for it.”  Kazic’s eyes locked onto the very only spot in the alley he could sense a life sign other than vermin.

“H’w much?”  The boy’s voice squeaked. 

It took Kazic a moment to understand.  “…Oh, you mean how much will I pay you for it?  How much do you want?  A fiver?  A tenner?”  Kazic’s arms were held outward, palms up so as not to look threatening.  The boy’s eyes squinted, looking the Anzat up and down.  And then Kazic felt it.

The boy was attempting to delve him with the Force! Perhaps the daen nosi – and more importantly his own mind was not so muddled after all.

“That’s an interesting ability for an eight-year old boy.” Was all Kazic could think to say in his shock that one so young could…but then it wasn’t such a shock -  brief flicker of a name he rarely dwelled on – not from shame but rather reverence – another child who had a similar ability and had been lost and alone just as this child was.

For the first time, the boy looked angry.  “I’m almost thirteen!”  His fist pounded his narrow chest for emphasis. …Of course, malnutrition…poor child, this had to be what the daen…

“Look out!”  The boy’s high-pitched scream brought Kazics attention to his surrounds.  With instinct honed by experience he moved, seeing one of the other one youths that he’d just tried to help despite their attempt at robbing him trying to stab him in the back. 

But the second youth suddenly stopped before Kazic could strike and fled – the boy with Ansons sabre wasn’t talking about him…or rather not just about him.

The Sky screeched to life with the hum of Republic LAATs, their green energy lances boiling the humid air as they struck one of the shabby pyramids in a slightly better state of repairs.  Outside the alley the all too familiar beat of blaster fire flowed to Kazics ears, but high above the sky turned a strange blue as a vast image of Chancellor Palaptine was projected up above.

“Citizens of the Empire, Today as peace and prosperity dawns across the Empire…”

Empire? Kazic had been out of range of the regular holonet news channels since coming here, the local reports had been contradictory about events in the core at best, tales of a Jedi attack on the Senate, Chiss Ships over Coruscant, and Clones overthrowing their Jedi Generals and declaring their own nation. Was this some bizarre trick by one of the local oligarchs?

“You will be among the first to benefit from a program that will renew and revitalize the Empire, with free health care and guaranteed work programs for all - inspired and planned by my most benevolent niece, your Princess, Mira!”

As the Anzat was distracted by the image that appeared above the boy took the chance to rush past him.

Kazic should’ve caught him, but his eyes were on the image floating above, her melodious voice extolling the benefits of her plan for the ‘Empire’ and the need to ‘Register’ and co-operate with Imperial Authorities.

He had never seen Mira before, but he knew her face –every line and curve.  It was the face they all shared, the product of a perfect yet limited gene pool. The face of the ferocious scout and warrior Kiraea, the face of…

“Ari…” he spoke aloud

This was what the daen nosi had brought him to see. It was not Ari, he knew that much, but she could easily be her sister, daughter, cousin, mother for all he knew.

As her words flowed into his mind the shock slowly subsided as the beat of battle drew closer.  Shaking off the shock and fugue of memory he returned to the present – the boy had eluded him again, and still had Ansons sabre.

Darting out despite a slightly twinge in his aged legs he barely avoided being bowled over by the tide of grotty beings fleeing. 

“Free Medical Care and Rations for all civilians who cross the Secure line, surrender their weapons and Register!” A clone atop a Sabre tank at the far end of the street called over a speaker as Mira’s soothing tones began to loop.  In front of the tanks was a line of Clone troopers occasionally firing off shots as Kavlian natives rushed between and behind them to relative safety.

He looked around to try and find the boy and also who the Clones were fighting

“Throw down your weapons, this areas is under Imperial Control from now on!”

Yelled a Clone Sergeant atop a building across the street before opening fire into the crowd – it was not random – Kazic followed the line to a heavily tattooed brute, beside him another who fired back at the clone trooper. Throughout the throng of fleeing people in cover behind bins and corpses were brutish looking gangers all with the same symbol tattooed or painted on makeshift armour – a block yellow pentagon with crossed black blades.

Some kind of gang it had to be – yet why would Clones who would never normally venture into slums like this bother with the local gang lord?  Last he knew the separatists were on the run, he had seen nothing on Dalos IV to suggest any kind of Separatist uprising…

He didn’t have time to discern their motives now, he pushed against the tide of desperate beings seeking the free medicines and food being offered by the gigantic feminine face above, trying to pick out the dark blond head.

“AIIEE!” a screech nearby cut above the overlapping sounds of blaster fire and the loud speakers orders, further down the street two of the ganger were dragging a female twi’lek by the lekku against the tide, a Chandra-fan desperately trying to fend them off batted aside by one of the brutes. 

“Grab the little ‘uns!” screamed an even larger brute behind them, “Quick!” behind him were various other gangers making off with emaciated children struggling in their arms…amongst them one with dark blonde hair bashing against the indifferent Aqualish that held him.

Kazics experienced mind quickly assessed the tactical goal – the Clones were taking control of this zone, the gangs might be able to hold them off with better local knowledge and guerrilla tactics for a while, but inevitably they couldn’t compete with a trained disciplined and well-armed military – so take whatever mobile wealth you can and go – the impoverished children would serve as not only living-shields but if they could get them off world valuable sales items to start over somewhere else.

“AEEEE” the Twi’lek screamed again her left face bloodied as they dragged her – of course female slaves made just as good sales items and flesh shields.

Before he’d even realised he had decided - Kazics sabre was in his hand – the Clone line wouldn’t reach her in time, let alone the boy despite his attempts to free himself.

A sense of calm flooded him, he had lived a long time, and there were far worse causes to die fighting for than trying to save a few strangers from being trafficked.

The Snap-hiss of his sabre caused the constant tide of fleeing beings to break naturally around him as he approached the still struggling twi’lek and her assailants.  Before he could launch inot his own attack – the gangers heads exploded into dark bloody gristle – a blade of black cut his vision then doubled back on itself. 

The Chandra-fan slowly rose and helped the twi’lek up as the Gang leader called a half dozen goons bursting out of a store arms full of various looted goods.

Kazic quickly decided the leader was the better target for his assault and headed forth.

“Take them! 3’oclock!” he heard the familiar helmet distorted voice of a clone call out, a barrage of blue fire slicing the looters to pieces as Kazic neared the retreating leader.  Once again his charge was unnecessary.  The Leaders eyes beneath the tattooed brow went wide then glassy as his head flew off.

A figure recognizable by the absence of a clean silhouette stood beside the falling body. 

All doubt Kazic might’ve had was gone as the suns heat was eaten by the armour of warrior beside the gang leader.     

It was Ari’s people – fighting beside Republic – or rather ‘Imperial’ Clones.  As quickly as he’d seen it - it was gone, along the street toward the pyramid slowly being surrounded by Sabre tanks.  Ganger bodies burst apart in its wake, the children they were kidnapping no less bewildered than Kazic himself as they were gently placed on the ground.

Pushing through using his sabre to ward off the mentally deranged and drug addicts who were randomly attacking beings – most of whom were cut down by the advancing Clones who saw only violent targets he found the boy with Ansons sabre staring up at the Pyramid, whose terraces were now alight with red and blue blasts as the Clones took control of what Kazic assumed was the Gangs headquarters based on the razor wire and ruined auto turrets around its ground level.

Skidding to a stop by the boy he paused as the child pointed up – on the top terrace Kazic could just make out a bulky Feeorin two overcharged pistols firing down at the advancing Clones, but behind him the shadows on the midday sun lengthened unnaturally, seemed to overcome his yellow tattooed muscles….

Like an ancient sacrificial ritual the Feeorins body bounced down the side of pyramids, spraying blood from the neck.  His head remained were it had been as the figure resolved beside it – a force enhanced voice boomed across the chaos in the streets all around.

“On Behalf of His Most Benevolent Majesty the Emperor Palpatine I Legate Nysi reclaim this sector from the Gang-lords, the Drug Dealers and the Traffickers,” she stepped into the light, hair a blonde red artificially swaying despite the humidity.

“On Behalf of Her Most Serene and Merciful Highness Princess Mira I offer all opponents this opportunity to surrender their arms and accept immediate medical aid and the chance to begin a life free from poverty, oppression and the violence it engenders,” 
She lifted the Feeorins head up high and tossed it into the air

“Gloria in Excelsis Imperator!” she called

the Clones called back.

Across the streets and warrens two thirds of the gangers took the offer to surrender.

The rest learnt the limits of the new Emperors Mercy.


“Zearic” the boy finally said dipping his finger into the soupy plas pouch then licking off the algal nutrient paste being supplied from the hover car.

“Pleased to meet you then Zearic,” Kazic sat beside him watching the line-up of beings at the makeshift registry – giving biometric details and wiring names where they could – a small machine beside each of the tables printed out a temporary ident-card and they were allocated a time for a full medical and assessed for either work or education programs. The air was filled with the smooth feminine voice of the Princess Mira extolling the new programmes on offer and plans for a Clean Up of slums like Kavila – beginning with the…

“Immediate removal of unrepentant hooligans, dissidents, rapists and misogynists,”

The Daen nosi had certainly not lied, but where had it lead him to?  This boy, and this…Empire.  So far none of the Clones paid them much attention just two more outcasts amongst thousands.

“So Zearic who was the Feeorin who was…”

“Got his body cut off!” The boy grinned nutrient paste on the edges of his mouth

“That was Ghul, he was da’ boss, now he ain’t…now the Leegat is,”

Kazic knew it was hardly as simple as that…or was it…the weight of Ansons sabre on his belt reminded him of other times where the issue of who was in control, what freedom meant had plagued him. 

Ghul and his ilk had been removed – but in a manner little different from a Gang war – the sanction form Coruscant made no difference to a child like Zearic – one gang boss replaced another.  And yet…

As Kazic surveyed the throngs about him there was a difference, the ‘Empire’ as he was learning the Republic was now called, was not simply labelling Dalos IV ‘under new management’ they seemed to be intent on altering the entire way of life here – and if the Clones chatter could be believed - right across the galaxy.

Zearic peeked up as a squad of Clones walked past – there had been a few instances of violence in the ‘safe zone’ – a few of the ‘alpha’ minded natives had tried to accumulate and stock up on the free rations, set up a black market. Their heads now adorned the Sabre tank that overlooked this camp –

“We will not permit a return to hoodlum like behaviour – you have been given a wonderful opportunity to build a new galaxy together,” Mira Explained “Reversion to old criminality will be swiftly dealt with.”

“Where do we pay the fee?” Zearic asked

“What fee,”

“the fee, you gotta’ pay every week or you get neppered…or worse…”

Fee…protection money – the boy thought he now had to pay weekly ‘protection’ money to the Clones. Was this all the life this poor boy knew…yet then what was taxation but a form of protection money Kazic idly wondered.

“You don’t have to pay anymore Zearic…when you’re finished that why don’t you go up to the desk and register,” Kazic had seen the children were swiftly taken to the heavily guarded Medical tent as soon as they were registered for assessment – it saddened him that the people of Kavila were so mistrustful and desperate they had tried to rob it within hours of it being set up – the Clones response was just as saddening – but for people such as this what else could they understand but violence?

Kazic managed to get a few more sentences out of the boy as he finished his ration before heading off to the queue.  Kazic stood and looked to get some information. 

“Sergeant!” he called out to a clone with red stripes “A word if I may Sir?”

The clone turned slowly after issues quick orders to the two soldiers he was with

“Citizen, what is the issue?”

“Sergeant I wonder if I might speak with a senior officer regarding the…change in leadership within the Empire…” Kazic added a push of the force, a Clone was too single mined to influence directly but a little prompt here and there could work.

“The broadcasts will inform you of everything you need to know Citizen, I suggest you register immediately,” no luck…

As Zearic waited Kazic wandered about, not straying too far looking for a more senior officer, uncertain about what his next move should be…the boy Zearic was strong and…Kazic was alone –a new apprentice would be good – yet the appearance of Ari’s People was…undeniably troubling and he needed to find out more.

Perhaps…it was risky…but it might be the fastest way.  Settling into a small alcove Kazic drew deeply on the force, then simply ‘brightened’ he didn’t use it, or twist it, just made his presence ‘obvious’. 

It didn’t take long for him to feel his robes shift against the rapid movement of air. 

“Kazic Ovarug…” the dark figure before him nodded almost respectfully

“Her Highness will be most pleased,” 


Zearic wasn’t sure he should trust her…or the big gray man for that matter, but he seemed alright when he…touched him…that was the best way to describe what he did – it was like thinking out loud but it touched things.  He’d spoken to Teg about it once, but Teg didn’t seem to know anything about it.

Teg was dead now, No-Nose Nex Neppered him for not paying the fee.

“Hey!” he called as the cold metal touched his bare chest,

“Just a little cold,” the burly dark skinned ‘clone’ as they called them looked at the device connected to it.

“Standard case of malnutrition, stem cell and hormone therapy with a course of high nutrient supplements should get him back up to standard weight and physical development within two or three years,”

Zearic sneered he was bigger than a lot of the other pick-pockets.

The clone medic tapped away at something and gave him a bit of plastic with tiny letters on it – Zearic could read – mostly – but the words here made no sense to him, too complicated.
“Present this and your Imperial Ident Card to any Princess Alina Hospital to begin your treatment,”

Kazics mouth briefly twitched – every public hospital had been renamed ‘Princess Alina’ on Dalos IV –and he suspected every other world in the new ‘Empire’.

“In the interim, as you have no assigned parent or guardian, you’ll be placed in…”

“Actually,” Kazic interrupted, “I wish to stand as the boys guardian,”

The clone looked him up and down

“You have a child safety clearance?”

Kazic shook his head “Not that I am aware of,”

“You need one to be able to adopt, new legislation, we cannot allow just anyone to take children off the streets,”

Kazic nodded, “I understand…but can I at least stay with the boy for a while?”

The clones hand idly approached his holstered blaster so subtly even Kazic barely noticed – he thought Kazic was a trafficker!

“Everything in order Doctor,”

The Clone snapped bolt upright as the soothing voice echoed in the tent

“Legate, just discussing the guardianship of this young boy, the Anzat shows an unusual level of interest.”

“Does he indeed…I will handle it from here Doctor, continue your shift, many citizens to see, If you would Master Ovarug, and your ‘ward’”

As they stepped out of the tent Kazic finally got a close look at the ‘Legate’ - as he suspected she looked much like all the women of Ari’s people, perhaps distinguished by a more blonde shade of hair and slightly wider eyes.

“Her Highness Princess Mira was most pleased to hear you had approached us Master Ovarug, and requests you attend her on Coruscant at your earliest convenience. She knelt down to Zearics eye level

“And you Zearic, the Princess wishes to welcome you to the Empire and offers you an opportunity to either stay on Dalos IV or if you wish travel to Coruscant with Master Ovarug who I see you’ve taken a shine to,” 

Kazic was unsure whether this was request or order…but if he was to understand what was happening what better way than to go to the source.

Zearic meanwhile was swaying slightly under the intoxicating beauty of the Legate- in his life he had never seen a woman so…just clean…and shimmering,

“Will…will you go to Coruscant with us!” he blurted out

“No I’m afraid not, I have other duties for the Princess, but Master Ovargu will take good care of you if you want to go,”

The chance to fly on a real space ship! Zearic had never wanted anything more.

His ship docked in a small bay at the far end of the main hangar deck, Kazic and Zearic were given make shift quarters just beside the ship while they travelled on the Venator Class Star Destroyer to Coruscant.

He used the down time to get to know the boy better, gently probing at the extent of his force abilities in-between catching up on events on Coruscant as best he could before he arrived.

Kazic was not fully convinced about the stories regarding the Jedi coup attempt, but the evidence of the attack on the Chancellor was overwhelming.

The declaration of Empire not completely unexpected, Kazic had kept up to date with the increasing emergency powers granted to the Chancellor – a pattern he had seen time and again over the centuries – a popular elected official accumulates more powers in the face of an external threat and slowly becomes a monarch. He had sighed out loud – cycles repeating.

Exactly what Ari’s People had done to gain control didn’t interest him - he knew all too well they were capable of extreme feats – but the Why had him stumped – trying to guess their motives was a fool’s errand yet still – if not him who else in the galaxy was there that could even attempt to comprehend the Why of their actions.

A burst of the force brought him out of his thoughts, the plastic tumblers clattering to the floor

“Shavit!” Zearic cried “Almost had them over my head!” he had begun his hormone treatment but would need better medical facilities than the Venator had to begin the two year stem cell therapy – till he now had a healthy pinkish hue to his skin.

“It’s alright, plenty of time to practice,” Kazic soothed as there was a tap on the side of his ship.

Opening the hatch a Clone Officer raised his fist to his chest – index finger and thumb touching to show a three fingered salute pointing to his left shoulder – how quickly they followed orders…

“Master Ovarug we have exited at the final jump point, three hours from Coruscant however we have received an urgent request for you to attend Her Highness Princess Alina before she departs on a Diplomatic mission.”

“I would be honoured,”

“We must go immediately, her ship is departing within the hour, also the boy Zearic is invited.

Interesting Kazic thought.


Zearic had never seen anything like it outside the half a copy of Star Rogue #43 he had found in a bin.  Hundreds of ships, huge vessels that would overshadow the warrens and sewers he had lived in, light all over, blue, yellow and red darting between the grey daggers and enormous floating cities,

“Defence platforms,” Kazic informed him

“See there that is Kuat where the ships are being made…” 

Oddly the vast orbital dockyard was devoid of new ships, but still a lot of work was happening on them…

They’re re-tooling…

“Inferior bodies, inferior minds, inferior technology” he recalled the words of their…leader?...at least strategist Valens so long ago referring to the Vhal’Dan, Kazic supressed a shudder at what ‘improvements’ they would be making to the new Imperial Fleet.

Valens words had been arrogant yet…accurate – what kind of culture had 600 years of such thinking produced Kazic wondered.

“On Approach, Vessel 12-XNC from the Chandrilla requesting docking permission on the Saani,” the pilot said Kazic once again stiffening

Saani… he turned to look out the pilots frontal view port – there was no vessel – yet there was by the absence of star light – a vast black slice in the darkness of space.

“Permission granted, slaving transport 12-XNC to our control, do not deviate or you will be destroyed.” The female voice over the comm replied.


The hangar was deliberately partitioned Kazic had noted – very little equipment, only a few clone soldiers – the ‘Outsiders’ section no doubt.  The name of the vessel had thrown him for a moment, but so had a dozen other things over the last few days - he would manage.

Zearic seemed overly eager to explore as he had been on the Venator – a compassionate non-clone officer had given them a brief tour – the Clones here offered no response to the boy’s request.

They were taken down a blank corridor through heavy doors of a grey stone to a small ante chamber where two ‘Praetorians’ awaited them

“The boy goes first you wait here…your weapons,”

Kazic gingerly placed his sabres in the being hands as Zearic was lead in.



She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, he could barely comprehend how Clean she was…his just on teen body filled with growth hormones to help him bulk up began experiencing – novel sensations – just looking at her.

“Ah so this is,”

“Zearic Highness,” the guard beside her said

“Zaea-ric…Zay-Rick…such an ugly name for such a strong handsome boy,” she stood up every movement graceful beyond Zearics mind to truly appreciate.

She knelt down before him to get to his eye level – much like the woman Legate on Dalos – it was so different how grown-ups usually shouted down at him, he could feel both women actually cared.

“I hear…” she said with a mischievous grin that perfectly suited her face

“You managed to swipe a lightsabre off old Master Ovarug,”

Zearic nodded beginning to tremble and worried she could see the things he was feeling.

“That is very impressive, not only that but to survive so long on such a dangerous world,” her lips pouted in sympathy making him feel embarrassed as his cheeks flushed hot.

“You…” her hand lightly flicked across his now washed and cut hair making his knees almost buckle

“…will grow into a strong man I think, already so clever…who knows maybe you could be a Quaestor and go on grand adventures to help me and my sister Mira,”  she gazed deep into his eyes.

“Would you like that - to be my knight?”

“Yebbb…” Zearic felt the drool cool the side of his mouth, skin burning hot

“Here…” she pulled out a handkerchief more opulent and soft than anything Zearic had seen dabbed his mouth,

“You can keep it, to remember me by…” she smiled

“I do so look forward to handing out prizes at the academies for the best student…maybe one day I’ll give you one…”

As the Guard came up to usher him out Zearic was thankful for the vast warrior to lean on as he was about to faint.


“Kaea-Zeec?, KaeaZick?”  The Princess slouching in her throne sounded out his name as he stood hands clasped before him careful not to step outside the yellow square they had placed him in  - ‘for his own safety’ he was not to move outside of it while the Princess was present.

Her hair was done up in curls, delicate lace white grey and pink dress, her features much like Ari, Kiraea and Mira as was to be expected but distinguished by a mischievous curve to her mouth and cheeks.
 
“First Zaearic now KaarrrZICK…Ick…what is it with you outsiders and “Ick” at the end of your names, gross,”

He didn’t know whether to respond or remain silent, opting for the latter on the basis he had no idea how to reply to her seemingly random utterances.

“I don’t like your name Kaearz-Icky, and I won’t even bother with your last name…what shall we call you instead…hmm…I’ll think of something….hmmm…” she sighed seemingly bored with him already

“My sister wants to talk with you…I’m not sure why, but as I was in the region I thought I ought to see you first, I must say you’re not as tall as I expected…or as impressive…but then you got old didn’t you…very old,” 

Her voice had a slightly nasal pitch that seemed to speak down to everyone and everything, Kazic was hardly unused to being looked down upon or as an object of scorn for his Anzat heritage, still for a supposed Princess it seemed out of place – he wondered if this was some elaborate game or she was exactly as she appeared – a late teen princess with a huge sense of entitlement and invulnerability...

“Ick is right for your name, Icky…you were ugly before you got old…now…well Icky why do you think my sister wants to…talk…with you, I doubt she’d want to see your hideous face?”

Sifting through possible responses he chose the least confrontational

“I am unsure myself Your Highness,”

“Stupid as well, all Outsiders are…why haven’t you killed yourself for being so abhorrent? Or are you too stupid to realise how disgraceful you are?”

This was either a bizarre conversational strategy or they were truly ruled by a capricious little minx.

“I expect I am too stupid to realise it your highness,” Kazic played along

“Ha..hahahaha at least you’re smart enough to realise that! I might make you my jester…but my sister promised me a better a one, he’s even funnier looking than you if you can believe it.”

She shifted about uncomfortably

“I hate this chair, my arse hurts when I sit on it for too long, I need a better one,” she promptly summoned a datapad to her hand and began tapping, her face bathed in the blue glow.

“That’s nice…” she said quietly to herself while Kazic remained still

She glanced up after a few minutes to look about the room as if measuring it for a new Throne.

“Oh you're still here Icky, you can go away now,”

The Praetorians guided him out in a state of utter confusion.


“Got it!” Zearic called out successfully holding the empty box over his head for a full minute with the force.

Since returning from the audience with the Princess the boy was even more eager to learn, yet there was something ill with the nature of his motivations – though considering his upbringing that was not surprising.  Kazic worried though that under the wrong guidance the more feral of what the boy had learnt on Kavila might be enhanced rather than tamed.

But that paled in comparison to the near burdensome widening of the daen nosi as the ship exited hyperspace at the far edge of the Coruscant system

A millennia of struggles, joy, pains, loves, losses - mistakes…and yet Kazic felt as the Destroyer slowly plodded toward the heavily defended capital….his path had barely begun.

This was such a treat to read!

I have to say that LSG really took the nuances of "The Anzat's New Apprentice" and made a wonderful, unique tale that both surprised me with the details in the narrative and tickled me seeing such an intriguing alternative interpretation of Kazic, young Zearic, and the Mirror Aethans (LOVE the easter egg w/ one of the ship's nomenclature: "Saani"  :)).

And I've got to wonder: after all this time...will Kazic be welcome?  Revered?  Despised?  Anathema?

LSG: This.  Is.  GOOD.  ;D

Thank you for this!

Wow, this is so weird. In many ways I don't like it at all. It is almost a perversion of what is good and right, but at the same time, there is nothing actually wrong with it. I would definitely be interested to see how someone like Karmack and Arnor would react to this. Very interesting indeed.


This is so true Karm. Just look at the history of Israel and Judah. This is the exact thing that happened over and over again.

Yeah, that thought has crossed my mind as well, but I don't have the bandwidth right now to explore it.   Though I did have an idea...   :-)   But I don't want to just spit it out.  Fear not, they may show up here yet....

a few hours ago I got the idea to rewrite the prologue to Invictus but From Free's point of view where Tyr is the man in black.


    Free looked around from the shadows that hid him. he had been at a stalemate since he found Tyr here.
    “We both know how this ends!” Tyr yelled into the darkness
    “It ends with you dead!” Free shouted as he activated his lightsabers and swinging for Tyr’s throat. He would have taken off Tyr’s head if Tyr hadn’t pulled his fiery orange lightsaber and intercepted his blades.
    “You’re dead now Free,” Tyr growled igniting a second orange blade.
    “Then I’ll take you with me!” Free yelled, deactivating his sabers and retreating into the shadows. His opponent looked around trying to locate him in the shadows.
    “You know you can’t sneak up on me Free!” Tyr yelled. Sensing his opportunity Free rushed out and swung his blades at Tyr’s exposed neck. Tyr spun and blocked Free’s sabers with a wide slash. Free deactivated his sabers and slipped back into the shadows.
    “Come out and fight me like a man!” Tyr screamed throwing his hands to the side and spraying fire all around. This revealed Free hiding close to the edge of what appeared to be a large platform.
    “You can’t hide from me now Free, why not fight me?” Tyr asked holding his sabers up in a wide guard.
    “Fine then,” Free said, igniting his sabers and rushing towards Tyr. He swung his sabers at Tyr but Tyr blocked and riposted. Free ducked out of the way and slashed at Tyr’s leg. The two of them continued to trade blows, increasing the speed until they were an orange and teal blur. After roughly ten minutes, Free had cuts all over his arms and legs and was sweating profusely, but Tyr still seemed like he was ready to keep going, with barely a drop of sweat on his forehead. Free became desperate, his attacks getting wilder and more uncontrolled. Eventually, Cato found an opening and took it, blasting Free’s sabers out of his hands. Free scrambled backwards and reached out to call his sabers back to him but Tyr chopped off both of Free’s hands in one clean scissor-like movement with his sabers. Free screamed in pain and fell to the floor as his hands hit the ground in front of him. His sabers flying away into the void behind him.
    “Goodbye Free.” Tyr said. He stepped forward and proceeded to stab Free through the heart.


I actually really like this idea so I think I'll write Free a new story from his point of view and I'll put this as the Prologue.

This is another free to contribute subset of the Mirror Empire to deal with where the old ‘Heroes’ are and what they’re doing….
These little snippets are about ‘positioning’ characters without necessarily committing them in any particular direction (or any direction they were not already on emotionally) – i.e. just getting the ball rolling any anyone can feel free to take up a thread and run from there with it!
News was slow to come to Thabeska, but when it did come it clung to her mind like the dust that covered everything after a few days.

Emperors, Princesses, Praetorians, Purges.

In her little corner of the Fardi compound repairing droids she did her best not to think on it, not to wonder what had become of Anakin, Obi-Wan, all those she had to leave behind. But as more information flowed through the holo net her mind just kept shifting back to it. 

Had they survived the purge – or surrendered to the amnesty? Did it even matter?

She was torn between going back and pressing forward, treading water in the middle.

“Whatcha do’n?” a sweet little voice interrupted her tightening a bolt.

“Oh…Hedala, how did you manage to sneak up to me?”

The little girl shrugged, she seemed to have inherited the Fardi clans natural knack for furtiveness, along with the similar facial features – yet there was something about her just a little different – everyone remembered her face – “that will make it difficult for her to work…” her cousin Chenna noted given the advantage the Fardi girls played on in all looking similar.

But Ahsoka sensed something more to it – a suspicion she didn’t really want to probe into for what it would mean for both of them.

“Just working on this droids,” ‘Ashla’ as Ashoka now called herself replied.

The little girl stood on tiptoes to peek onto the workbench, then seemed to lose interest.

“Guess what!” she said a bright smile on her face

“What?”

“Daddy is getting me a new dress!”

“Really wow what colour is it?”

“It’s gonna be pink and red just like the Princess!”

“Wonderful!” Ashla replied with faux excitement – the Princess…her face was everywhere, her voice all over the holo news extolling her ‘female friendly’ policies one minute, explaining the need for additional military expenditure the next.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Daddy is getting visitors, Umperials are visiting with a Wegate.”

Wegate? Legate she must mean…Ashla hadn’t paid much attention, but understood they were in charge of various fleets and sent to different systems to oversee integration into the Empire…if one was coming here…

“When is the Legate coming?”
Hedala shrugged once more “I dunno…are you doing to get a new dress too?”
Ahsla did not get a new dress, she wore comfortable workman’s overalls in the crowd as the Legate was welcomed to Thabeska.

A Venator flanked by Two Acclamators sliced in the sky high above as ARC-170’s trailed regal purple streaks as three clone Juggernauts rolled down the street, the bitumen whining in protest at their bulk as Clones marched in tight order, the cheers of the crowd coating them just as quickly as the dust that Thabeska was infamous for, turning the white armour a sooty brown.

Through the sea of heads Ahsoka tried to get a look at the Legate who stood atop the central Juggernaut beside Clone Officers as they proceeded to the Government House where the Fardi clan officially ruled from, a member of their clan having been elected to the Presidency every four years for the last 100 years.

It seemed surreal, the Clones welcomed like conquering heroes, but then what other choice was there, cheer and be positive or sulk and resign yourself – a system like Thabeska, a half legitimate group like the Fardi Clan would inevitably be subsumed by the Empire – they just chose to do it with a smile on their face.

As the procession reached a hastily erected platform the Legate flanked by the fake grin of President Fardi launched into a speech mirroring that repeated over and over again on the holo-net by Palpatine in the Senate regarding the importance of working together, the new order, the benevolence of the new way, the corruption of the old Republic and the importance of a strong military to protect the people from ‘hooligans, misogynists and rapists’. 

There was something very strange about the terminology the Legate used…but stranger still was her uncanny similarity to the Princess, the Legate had shorter darker hair, but could easily pass for a double. 

The speech was short and ended with an invitation to sign on as Imperial citizens and receive free healthcare and employment opportunities.  By then Ahsoka wasn’t looking at the Legate in her resplendent red armour anymore, but on little Hedala on the platform with her cousins and sisters in her pretty new dress who seemed enraptured by the Legates words. 

Ahsoka had come of age in the midst of a galaxy at war, threatened, and eventually betrayed by those she trusted most.  What galaxy would Hedala grow up in?
The Fardi Compound was to play host to the discussions between the President and the Legate on ‘integration’ so ‘Ashela’ was to spend a few days in Thabeska city proper out of the way of the negotiations.

Ahsoka was glad for it, the last thing she needed was to be recognised by one of the Clones and shot at – although rumour was there was now an amnesty, and she wasn’t even a Jedi, she’d turned from that path.

As much as she liked the Fardi girls, some alone time would be useful.  She couldn’t stay here working as a mechanic forever, she needed to do something more – find a place where she could be herself…

A place where you can find yourself…

The thought came unbidden – so much of her identity had been wrapped up in being a Jedi, in fighting the war – now it was all over.  What was left to her?

With the Order disbanded perhaps she could try and find Anakin…be just friends instead of an apprentice – but was that just going backwards?  Which way was forwards?

She looked around the little motel room for any hint of a clue on what to do next. Her legs restless she decided to go for a walk.

For a smuggler clan the Fardi’s kept Thabeska city relatively lawful and neat – there were far worse places on Coruscant.  But as she wandered the streets there seemed to be far less of the lively banter and carousing than normal, Clone troopers keeping a careful eye on everything as she slid past, her face hooded.

It was ridiculous – what was she hiding from anymore?

Yourself?

She almost tripped over as the thought stabbed her with its truth. 

As she paused at an intersection there was a sudden clang, from one end a Weequay raced toward her pursued by two clone troopers he was tightly clinging to a duffel bag. 

“Stop right there!” the all too familiar voice of Rex, Cody and a dozen others called after him.

She felt an instinctual drive to help them, to stop him and find out what was happening – but she had no rank, no reason to…and in the end she didn’t need to.

As the Weequay fumbled over he paused in mid air

Paused.  Like the frame of a static holo pict.

In his frozen state the clones tackled him into the ferrocrete, one prying the bag from his hands as a second kicked him into submission, two more soon arrived.

“Move along,” the clones ordered the few pedestrian away as the shadows in the alley the weequay had come from darkened further, Ahsoka slipped back around a corner and peered out as a figure in deepest black joined the clones who dragged the Weequay up.

“As ordered Praetorian,” the clone Sergeant handed him the bag.

“40 million in authenticated untraceable block chain credits….” The genderless voice of what Ahsoka assumed was the black figure noted

“…now why did you wish to leave Thabeska the night the Legate arrived with 40 million credits?  Tell me.”

“unnh…” Ahsoka winced as she felt the force…ripple and tighten around the scene, it was less a mind trick or force suggestion than a mental grinding.

“…had to get out…escape Operation Clean up…Arok’s orders, sell up get out….”

“Arok…the Hutt?”

Again a grating like nails across transparisteel

“Yes….”

“He did business with the Fardi’s?”

“Yehhhsss….” The Weequay seemed to struggle for breath

“Not anymore he doesn’t….Tell Arok that the Fardi’s have accepted the Princesses generous offer of mercy and are ceasing their illegal activities, and the Princess thanks him for his donation of 40 million credits to the Princess Alina Hospital on Thabeska and recommends he divest his interest in all Imperial systems,”

It was not a request – it was a brutal order rammed into the creature’s mind that he couldn’t disobey if he wanted to.  Force suggestion was one thing – this was outright mind control.

Her sabres tucked away discreetly in her robes never felt heavier as she felt the weequays will compressed into a shape pleasing to the Praetorian – it was not the light touch of Obi-Wan or even slightly bolder press of Anakin – yet nor was it the dark compulsion of Dooku or Maul – it was somewhere – else – in the force, somewhere she instinctively felt no one should be touching let alone using.

She felt she should do something…say something…the weequay might be a Hutt’s patsy but that didn’t justify such a vicious mental assault.

A Jedi would stop this,

A Jedi would – she tugged her collar closer to obscure her face. But she wasn’t a Jedi anymore.

Was she?

He knew the sting of failure, the grinding pressure of pain. 

All had fallen apart, his brother slain by Sidious, his attempt to claim Mandalore frustrated by Kenobi…and now

Now it all fell apart again.

The first base of the criminal syndicate he had codenamed Crimson Dawn was burning around him.  There were no more alarms, even the emergency lighting was gone after an Electromagnetic pulse had smashed into the former recycling plant situated amidst the endless sea of junk and scrap that was the badlands of Ord Mantell.

His legs whined, the oil in the gears old and dry as he pumped signals from his mind into the false feeling limbs to push through the rocking structure as blue and yellow sparks surged from the uncovered cabling along the walls. 

The red glare of flames was the only light brightened orange by the occasional explosion.

Crimson Dawn indeed.

He had come to Ord Mantell to rebuild after his failure on Mandalore, the loss of his brother – to take another step toward his vengeance on Kenobi and Sidious.  It was poetic in a way, to find oneself in the junkyard and rebuild – just as he had on those frenetic confused days on Lotho Minor after falling to Kenobi the first time. 

He had grown from it, remade himself, driven by his hate – but there would be no second Crimson Dawn on Ord Mantell. 

Pushing through the various cantina scum he made toward the hangar.  He had found Ord Mantell full of eager recruits at first, ‘refugees’ from Corellia, Taris, Denon and Coruscant pushed out by the so called ‘Princess’ Mira’s operation Clean Up – Maul knew the truth, this was Sidious excuse for putting clones on the streets to tighten his fist.

He stomped on the singed form of a Falleen covered in Black Sun tattoos, shoulders over a Pyke syndicate guard – their former bosses were all dead, their territories lost to the clones and their Praetorian overlords.

Now they had come to Ord Mantell – and they were getting both better at wiping out criminal gangs and less patient about it.  Maul had no warning before the LAATs descended from the sky and unleashed on the vast recycling facility situated like a metal island in a sea of refuse.  He’d only been here a few months, and had never intended to stay so had no real defences – his error was to think it would be many more months before the Empire arrived.

Twisting on the turntable of his artificial hips he sped down the rusted out hazard stripe painted corridors.  This had been another failure.

But where did he do from here? He had no idea where Kenobi was, the Emperor - as Sidious now styled himself - was encased behind a wall of Praetorians – how was he to gain his vengeance now?

The question would have to wait, half sliding on the blood slick floor as the roof crashed in behind him he threw himself into the hangar as a red bloom seared his back.

Pushing up on his elbows he raised his head in time to see his appropriated Soro-suub flyer take a green LAAT beam to the cockpit and shred through as the Clone transport smacked into the deck at the far end of the bay.

Rolling up he summoned his sabre to his hand in time to deflect the torrent of blue fire the clones 40 metres away unleashed. 

Cartwheeling his Crimson blades sparked a brief purple as the blue bolts hit – as they had destroyed his ship Maul had no other recourse but to take theirs – the LAAT had the heavier plated sides indicating void capability, if he could slip out in the confusion of battle he might make it to one of the less defended support vessels, find a hyper drive capable ship and break away.

The only other option was leaping into the ocean of junk the plant slowly melted into its constituent parts as half-hearted recycling effort and get to Ord Mantell city on foot – not a real option given it was a quarter of the world away.  Maul could survive much but crossing quarter of the globes junkyard with no supplies was beyond even him.

Spiralling death descended on the frontline clones, their armour was chipped and scored from dozen of battles already, the burning divots his sabrestaff left went almost unnoticed amidst their already worn state.

The smarter ones fell back to the ship, one spun his hand to order them to lift off – they were in no hurry they had air superiority already and could land with re-enforcements. 

Clenched teeth pushed more orders to his faux limbs as he pushed against his back with the force to add speed.  The hatch on the LAAT Began to close the Clones peeking round to fire at his charge as one of the laser beam turrets swiftly turned to unleash a green lance of death.

Maul flipped over the blade of destruction as a cargo lift burst apart behind him – in the air he added another force boost to land on the rounded turret, driving one end of his blade down into the clone gunner.

He overheard the familiar helmet distorted voice of the clones within.
“…Class 4 threat, repeat Class 4!”

As the LAAT lifted off he cracked his false feet’s claw like toes into the trasnparisteel to steady as he gripped at the door with the force tugging with his rage at his own failure to rend the durasteel open.

His hands clenched his sabre eager to continue their bloody work upon the clones.  They wouldn’t get the chance. 

Milliseconds to spare Maul back flipped off the turret back onto the acid pitted ferrocrete of the hangar.  The rounded turret sliced in two beneath the force of a huge black blade.

A Praetorian.

Maul had never seen one in person before now.  Its exact size was distorted by the light mangling properties of its armour, but nothing could hide the ferocity that oozed off it in the force – Maul was almost impressed – almost.

The best defence was a solid attack – Maul surged forth his blades spinning fast enough to make a solid white tipped with red wall as they crashed onto the dark blade that was rapidly in a defensive guard. 

Maul drove hard against the silken shadow, he had heard the rumours, the legends – but Maul knew what is was to be a legendary Menace – and these ones did not scare him.

The black blade worked rapidly to counter Mauls ferocity, only belatedly did the warrior begin to strike back. 

“We need not fight Maul!” the distorted voice called out as Maul drove his Juyo to the edge, allowing the rhythm of his anger to flow into the stream of blows

“Join us, the Princess would welcome you warmly, you can have anything you desire!”

Mauls smile was lost behind the glow of the red blade that never let up against the stern defence – he could not be tempted by Sidious little pawn

“I know no master but MYSELF!” he seethed back redoubling his offensive – all the hate and spite he held for Sidious poured into his movements and created an impenetrable wall of focus that diverted the Praetorians attempts to pierce his mind.

Hate was all Maul knew, there was no other purpose, vengeance was his calling that could not be manipulated or twisted

Finally seeing Maul would never be a slave again the warrior began to strike back.  He was undoubtedly fast, and incredibly strong, but Maul could delve on pools of hatred deeper than the black holes of the Maw to power his body and repel the telekinetic assaults he was assailed with.

Thin bladed daggers sliced off the warriors belt and sped rapidly to try and slice into Mauls flesh – he swiftly moved to Jar’Kai parting his staff into two blades to knock the daggers off course while maintaining a steady defence against the black blade.

Time…Maul realised – his enemy was playing for time, trying to wear him down to be able to capture rather than kill him…

He would not be taken. 

Drawing on the rich black hatred for Sidious he unleashed his rage against Sidious pawn before him.

The Praetorian was taken aback by the sudden burst of ferocity – He was no stranger to animalistic brutality but had never seen it in an Outsider to this degree before - to harness such ferocity in the Princesses service would be a tremendous boon.

Relentless and unquenchable drive of vengeance powered blows that struck fast even for advanced visual sensory abilities of a Praetorian, forcing him on the defensive.  It seemed this was one opponent who could not be worn down – the hatred was like a shield about the Dathomiri protecting it from any more subtle assault.

Maul’s teeth ground as he pushed the warrior backward edging his way through a sequence of aggressive blows that struck and increasingly trite defence. 

“We can restore your body!” the warrior called over the crackling hum and snap of the furious conflagration – Maul had anticipated such a false offer.

“You can be so much more than this…”

“There is nothing more than my HATE to become!” he screamed back twisting through out of the warriors riposte into a double sweep that slashed straight into its side – the dark armour plating impenetrable but taking heated divots out of the gap for the elbow, having to reposition maul locked one leg into the floor and used mechanical strength to hammer the warrior back with the other force enhanced mechanical foot

His opponent stumbling back Maul advanced, blades raining down to the exposed thinner lining on the neck.

His red blade exploded in a flash then into nothingness as something thin and fast cut off his stroke millimetres before it hit.

Spinning round two more Praetorians were jogging toward him, one notching what must be a second arrow.

There was no choice now – his Hate was powerful – but not three Praetorians working in concert powerful. 

Buffeting back the Force grips as he sped forward he lept out of the hangar and into the sea of sun heated junk far below.

He was dead
such arrogance are you a Goddess to say if you’re dead or alive?
He was certain he was dead
Who is a mere mortal like you to pretend to know any such thing with certainty
He remembered falling out of the window, the cold burn as his arm was severed.
me me me all about me
He even remembered crashing, the pain and shock of betrayal denying him any chance to stop the descent, the cracking wet sounds as she smashed into the roof, how it folded around him like soft steel blankets and rich red overtook his vision.
Was that really you though?
After so many…years…falling from what he had been he had finally hit the bottom.
Are you so foolish not see all this time you were rising
The darkness was rising in him, with every battle, every time he stepped deeper into the Vapaad to survive to prevail over others, to end other lives, he had always stayed on a narrow path, by the end it was molecule thin
Your path, so conceited to think you could control everything, to think you could fight for so long and not be changed by it
It was true he had been proud, myopic even the pall of the dark side clouded his judgement less than his own focus on the war, in the end the enemy was right there in his face the whole time.
And he died belatedly facing it.
But you’re not dead are you, you don’t get to decide who lives and who dies such is in the hands of the Three
Three…Three what?
They brought you here, they saw you were hurting, in pain and rescued you…from the monster that used to bear your flesh

Monster…he was a Knight, a Master…yet the things he did in the war…he became the Vapaad the beast he feared in his pride – sought to preserve the peace at all costs even at the price of his own soul

You have no soul, no essence beyond the short time the Three give you, and now they’ve given you life if you’ll but take it

He didn’t deserve life…he had died misread the shatter-point that cracked across the great men and events of his age – his time was over…

Great men! Men! There was your problem you relied on a toxic masculinity that inevitably resulted in conflict to achieve peace…fat ugly brutes banging each other to be the alpha….but forgiveness is there…clarity…purpose…life no one can earn only accept as the gift it is…

Maybe the other voice was right…he was not dead…he couldn’t be thinking if he was…

You’re not dead…HE is…not you…not yet…

The voice was everywhere in his sightless soundless existence that still somehow felt…wet?…what else was there for him to do but listen to it…he couldn’t trust the dead thoughts of him…he had done that before and only found himself walking a tightrope he inevitably fell from….
Just reach out a little…just a little…take hold of the life the Three offer
He had no body to reach…his hand had been cut off by the other him…he pushed his bodiless eyes forward into the slick wet redness before him.
With plastic slaps she pulled off the suit coated in the dregs of blood and vitae from the Renewal Chamber.

Behind her through the transparisteel a dark skinned muscular and bald (they hadn’t been able to repair that….not that it mattered….) male sat fondling a Totem transfixed by the soundless voice that emanated from it as the Lord Seneschal had before him. 

This one was critically damaged when they found him and had taken months to repair fully…falling several hundred stories would do that to a mere human…

“Do you think the Lord Seneschal will be jealous? Another clash of Alpha’s?” her assistant inquired

“Maybe a little…but only in a way that benefits us…pushing him to prove himself the most loyal and themost capable, but not competitively, he knows they all serve the Goddess and her benevolence is infinite to be bestowed between them…”

Taking her hair out of the net she revelled in the feeling of her silken locks, lighter than average caressing her shoulders,

“Anyway…he’s still only First Seneschal, not Lord Seneschal…and he’ll have his own tasks to complete…how is the Second progressing…”

“Try Your Luck!” The shyster called loudly over the crowded paths of Socorro’s mid-level street markets, the scent of heavy spices used to cover the stench of less than fresh meat filling her nose.

“Five Credit, Three cups one marble! Black as a Praetorians Armour, guess which one it’s under for a Hundred Credits, easiest money you’ve ever made.

Gently pushing her way through Sia-Lan Wezz put ten credits down in front of the Nitko.

“I’m game,”

“Ah Pretty Lady, Lucky Lady?…we’ll see!” he was putting it on real thick she thought.

Placing the black marble under the middle cup he rapidly rotated them around.  With the force she could easily sense the object through the motions as he came to a stop.

“Well Pretty Lady where is the black marble?”

“I don’t know where the black one is…but there is a white one under the left cup,”

With a smile he lifted it up and handed her the ‘winnings’

“Lucky Lady…”

She glanced briefly at the address, picked up the white marble then dissolved back into the crowd.

It was an old Trick Master Giiett had tricked hundreds of Padawans with – the force can tell you the marble was there but not the colour – it reminded them the limits of the Force – that many things couldn’t be divined…

Things like Order 66
Things like the Praetorians.
It was a fairly average looking bar, one of a million across the outer rim near Hutt Space.  The quick talking fast pouring Besalisk nodded as she took a stool at the bar,
“What’ll you have?”
She slid the marble under her hand across the grimy wooden counter
“White Marble no ice.”
He nodded and quickly poured the frothy white drink that was more froth than liquid, his top right arm thumbed the curtained door to the back rooms
“Tasting clubs in there,”
From the back room she was ushered down a stair case by a Chandra-fan, briefly checked by a woman she knew from long ago then allowed in past the Durasteel door.
“…we don’t know enough even if we had the numbers…”
The already quiet words halted as she entered.
She knew the faces arrayed around the tables – the Nikto from earlier was there, , Ma'kis'shaalas, along with the Whiphid K’Kruhk, Aleena Tsui Choi, A’Sharah Hett, Kento Marek, Dass Jennir, Master Tholme, Bultar Swan, and half a dozen other Masters and Knights Sia didn’t know personally – the only one standing Quinlan Vos.

“Pretty Lady…glad you made it…” Ma'kis smiled, trying to bring levity to the room.

“Wezz we were just starting…You’re the last one…” Vos words weren’t a sanction to her being late, rather a disappointment that no one else could – or rather wanted – to come. 

She’d been contacted on Kuat about the gathering, had taken nearly a week to get here through various agents, Tholme and Vos were well known for their intelligence work and were making full use of it.

She took a seat around the half drained glasses of White Marbles on the utilitarian table.

“We know what they are doing…but we just don’t know how…” Kento Marek continued, Sia was surprised to see him here, given he had a family to look after now if the rumours were true.

“We tried getting a sample, broke through the marble but the stuff underneath that…the plasma cutter couldn’t get through it, even to break off a sample – we had to pull back the voices were relentless…” he sighed dejectedly obviously referring to the subconscious suggestion statues littered in public places encouraging peoples to Obey the Princess and Trust the Praetorians

“Null and suppressant devices work, but wandering around wearing them…attracts unwanted attention…”

“Praetorians?” Tholme probed

“No…new ones…Seneschals they call them, Grey or White armour usually with two or three squads of Imperial Regulars…” Marek paused seemingly unwilling to add more details,

“The one I saw…looked at lot like Shadday Potkin…”

“Defectors?” Swan queried

“Defecting from what…there is no Order…no Republic…” Hett noted grimly.

It struck a hard cord around the room,

“It’s over…” he shook his head “the war, the Order…all over…we fought, we lost…” he stood up

“I’m going back to Tatooine…”

“That’s it you’re just abandoning the Republic!” Jennir protested

“What Republic, it’s the Benevolent Empire now, seen the posters, that cutesy little teenage news read Candi extolling the benefits of the Clean Up, Palpatines speeches to the Senate…”

“We can’t stand by and do nothing while they manipulate the galaxy,” Das Jennir was known for his fierce loyalty to the principles of the Order and Republic, it seemed the Empire had hardened them further into Zealotry.

“And you’re not trying to manipulate back the other way!” his tattooed face softened for a moment

“I’m done with trying to save the galaxy from itself, I’m going home,”

Jennir was about to get up but Vos waved him down allowing Hett to leave.

“Another one to the Amnesty…” Bultar Swan noted quietly

“Have many people taken it up?” Sia chimed in regarding the offer of a life time pension for all Jedi who agreed to disown the Republic, hang up their sabre and Swear new Oaths the Empire.

“At least a dozen we know about,” Vos replied a flicker of anger and tang of betrayal in his voice,

“200,000 credits a year seems too tempting for some to reject….” Ma’Kis added

“Fortunately we know of even more that remain loyal,” Vos turned to a more positive matter,

“Shaaki Ti is on Alderaan with at least a dozen others, we’re following a leads on An’ya Kuro – the Dark Woman – and the Crestenfall brothers in the mid rim, Jax Pavan is on Coruscant feeding us some information from the Blackpit slums, Rahm Kota made contact last week and there are rumours of a small group on Mandalore…overall we can call on about sixty Knights,”

Sixty…from an order of thousands…Those not killed in the war and Order 66 must number at least a few hundred…but like Hett, it seemed few had any appetite for another war.

“We also have some friends in the Bothan Spy net feeding us intel for the moment.” Vos went on

“For the moment?” Sia inquired

“Since Bothawui joined the Empire proper the Spy Net is tearing itself apart, some kind of civil war inside it between the those who are happy to work for the Empire and those loyal to the bothan concept of Ar’kai,” Tholme explained, no doubt the brooding stealth master was the main contact to the Spynet,

Vos nodded then returned to the fore,
“Form what we understand they are retooling the fleet, improving it and expanding clone production on new worlds – if we are going to act we must act quickly.”
“Act?” this time Swan seemed concerned

“The Senate is still functioning, Palpatine and his Praetorians grip is strong, but still tentative in many systems…”

“Until a Legate shows up to enforce compliance…” Tholme whispered

“If we can take the head of the Hssiss, Palpatine, Mira and her Aediles the Senate can take charge once more, restore the Republic – but only if we move in the next few months – we’ve all seen the holo-news every day Mira gets more popular by promising the Universe and the Praetorians become more trusted by the common people by ‘Cleaning Up’ planets.”

Typical Sia thought, such a Male solution to a problem, go in and kill things

“Violence begets violence…” the venerable Tsui Choi now spoke up in his warbled Aleenan voice,

“This could start another civil war….we must consider carefully the implications of our actions on an already war weary populace”

“The way I see it, the civil war isn’t over,” Jennir responded “the clone wars are still going, it’s just entered a new phase, the Republic is not dead so long as the Jedi are there to bear it up”

“I don’t know,” Sia voiced “The Senates inability to manage conflict and get anything done was what turned so many systems Separatist…do we really want to go back to how it was before the war?”

“You think we should just let Palptine get away with usurping the Republic?” Marek protested

Bultar Swan shifted uncomfortably, Sia locked eyes with the only other woman in the room a knowing glance passing between them – so often whenever a woman suggested something some man who argue it down, yet if another man had suggested the same thing they would listen.

“I’m saying maybe not all change is bad, and if we are going to act in anyway, like Master Choi suggested we need to make sure we do so in a way that gets us to a better place than where we started or all we have done is traded one bad government for another and the war will have been for nothing,”

“Sia is right…” Vos, here comes the qualifier Sia thought…the male need to one up a woman’s opinion in the guise of agreement.

“…but with the Legates taking more systems every day, and those mind control statues working on millions we don’t have time to design a new constitution for the Republic, we can try and guide the Senate once it is free from Palptines grasp – for now we need to focus on winning the war, the peace we can win later,”

So typical, the male assumed conflict would bring resolution, sought a ‘climax’ in battle to resolve the tensions.

“Our Oaths were to the Republic,” Vos straightened statesman like “You may consider the Republic dissolved and your Oaths with them, if so you may leave now, I won’t judge you I can even empathize. But if you stay, it’s because you want to be true to those Oaths and do everything in your power to restore the Republic we swore to uphold.” 

He raised his sabre and placed in on the table, followed by Tholme and Ma’Kis, and offer to join him.

A few Knights slowly rose and left without a word, K’Kruhk stood and with Jennir placed their sabres on the table, followed by half a dozen others.

Swan and Choi whispered to each other uncertainly, Sia already knew what she had to do.  Another glance to Bultar Swan and Sia stood and placed her sabre on the table,

“Good to have you with us Guardian Wezz,” Vos smiled followed by Choi and Swan’s sabre right next to Sia’s.

“Master Choi,” Vos nodded, “your wisdom will be invaluable, as a start to our new Order in Exile we would be honoured if you would take a position on a new small council along with Master Tholme and Tra’Saa,”

Typical Males, Sia mused as she smiled to Swan, feeling the warmth of the three pointed star amulet of an Initiate to the she had much to discuss with her sister Jedi. 

Fingers pressed, eyes closed he carefully took each booming rounded note of the music that played in his quarters.  Before him a selection of pieces made from the fired muds of the Beautiful Jewel as the Hutts termed their world. 

Hutt Opera might not be aesthetically pleasing to his ears, but it was essentially to understanding his likely future enemy.  Of course there had been no directive as yet, but Thrawn knew it was only a matter of time, he had studied his Allies art as best he could, and one thing he learnt quickly was that they do not forget – and they do not forgive.

As the final piece played he opened his eyes to survey the pieces in the collection, Hutt art was difficult to come by, but as Grand Admiral despite his relative youth he was able to appropriate anything he wished from various museums and galleries.

“Do you truly believe you can divine an enemies strategy from their art?”

He stiffened at the shock of being distributed, but they were not known for respecting personal space – much less so with one who owed them as much as Thrawn did.

“I believe I can obtain valuable insights, and have evidence of its efficacy,”

The Warmaster – one of three who each oversaw a third of the Imperial fleet stepped lightly over to the desk and gazed down on the Hutt art works, some primitive,, some classical,  some post-abstract.

“Abhorrent…” she sniffed

“Tell me Admiral what have you discerned from Our art?”

A loaded question, but with a nod he complied
“That you combine seamlessly martial prowess, cunning and compassion, three pillars of your nature, reflected in how you approach ruling your new Empire…holding out offers of compassion but maintaining vast capacity and willingness to employ violence in a wise combination.”

“And our weaknesses?”

Thrawn had no fear of speaking directly, they were wise enough to appreciate direct criticism,

“Your art is overwhelmingly religious in scope and tone, a reflection of what you consider to be perfection – what you drive toward and what you see as the best path for not only yourself but the universe…that myopia of vision will be your downfall.”

She turned to briefly gaze at him, how little outsiders understood...

“It would be…were we not wise enough to have advisors such as yourself to keep us going too far.”



“You disapprove Grand Admiral,” the Princess noted beside him despite him saying nothing – he was under no illusion now, like the Jedi Mira and the Praetorians wielded the force – albeit in a far more comprehensive and effective manner that Tarkin was almost jealous of - the so called ‘Jedi Generals’ paled in comparison to a Praetorian – with the exception of Jedi like Windu, Yoda, Skywalker and Kenobi, they were a cut above, physically and mentally.

“Size does not equate to ability, even accounting for the intimidation factor,” he noted gazing up at the exactly 203 cm tall naked woman before him – although to call the tan skinned dark haired muscular creature a woman was a misclassification –it was an XXY Chromosome Clone – modified from the original Jango Fett Template with ‘additional genetic material’ – it expressed ‘female’ physical traits but retained ‘masculine’ hormonal systems and musculature- indeed the Second Generation Clone was more hermaphrodite than anything else.

“Size it not all they possess…” Mira added as she began to pace past the row of ten naked Clones, holographic bio-data flickering on as they passed each in turn- the key bio readouts all in 0.5% variation range – 138323 grams, 138421 grams…

“Twice the physical strength and reflex speed of a regular clone, and indeed most sentient humanoid species,” 

She paused at one and flicked its muscled – Chest or Breast – it didn’t matter Tarkin supposed, it was merely a part of the living weapon.

For Mira’s People the upgrades were child’s play to design from the base template, their goal to create Clones superior to 75% of the Empires humanoid species – but even that was still well below what the People had made themselves in the centuries since the Devastation. As much as she intended to ‘improve’ the Empires Forces, they would never allow them to rival the People.

“Impressive statistics your Highness,”

“Yet you still don’t like them,”

“I believe these are an excellent step towards a vast military dedicated to upholding the laws necessary to ensure galactic harmony,”

“Ha,” she laughed “Your Doctrine, what a way to deflect my point Tarkin, are you still sore the Emperor did not approve your Doctrine of Terror…”

“The Emperor has his reasons, I am satisfied my boarder Doctrine has been authorised,”

“Yes the Emperor was most pleased with that essay,”

Tarkin smiled at their game, they both knew the other knew it was not the Emperor making such decisions.  He had been somewhat disappointed Mira did not endorse the entirety of his proposal for the consolidation of galactic rule, but she had adopted the majority – enough to have the Emperor read it in full in the Senate on the day the new Constitution was ratified.

He still recalled the words of his hands in Palpatines voice
“For the first time in one thousand generations the Government will not be working solely to enrich Coruscant and the Core Worlds, but to advance the quality of life in every star system, keeping the spaceways safe, maintaining open and accessible communications, assuring that tax revenues are properly levied and allocated to improving the infrastructure and quality of life for all our citizens

This bold vision of the future requires not only the service of those of immaculate reputation and consummate skill in the just exercise of power, but also the service of a vast military dedicated to upholding the laws necessary to ensure galactic harmony.

It may appear to some that the enactment of universal laws and the widespread deployment of a strong military are steps toward galactic domination, but these actions are taken merely to protect us from those who would invade, enslave, exploit, or foment political dissent, and to accordingly remove any who engage in such acts.

The Imperial Army are the gatekeepers, to protect and develop Our common vision of a Benevolent and prosperous galaxy.”

Mira had of course edited the speech Tarkin had devised, ‘softening’ it, but the essence was there.

“It is because you disapprove Wilhuff that I am tasking you with overseeing the field trials of the Second Generation Clones,” Mira brought him back to the present.

“I want a critical eye, and there is none more discerning than yours amongst the Admiralty,” She stepped to the last clone in line, silent like all the others dark eyes fixed and open straight ahead

“You will take 500 units, 100 of each of the 5 variants we have developed and report on which perform the best,”

“Against whom will these Clones be tested?”

She turned back the way they had come,

“That…will depend on how events unfold,”

“Bwa…Bwa…BWAAAAAH,”

Anakin sat bolt upright

“Again!” he cried frustrated as Padme skidded round to attend to Leia before she woke Luke up.

“It’s alright I’ll go,” she said – she always went,

“All they do is cry, why don’t you get a nanny droid, or have Threepio do it,”

For someone so excited about having children, the reality seemed to disappoint her husband.  Padme didn’t want to admit it but she was increasingly scared that Anakin had become so used to war he couldn’t handle peace.

She gently lifted Leia out, the first tufts of brown hair on her otherwise smooth head, Padme rocked her gently and she settled quickly as Anakins annoyance dripped from his expression.

She had forgiven him for what happened on Mustafar – the Jedi’s ‘coup’ had thrown Anakin into confusion and anger, everything he had believed was turned on its head – even so the fact he had used the force to hurt her when she was pregnant left a fear in her heart that could never be removed.  

Even as she rocked her, Leia began to cry once more,

“I’m going out!” Anakin shouted waking Luke as well, the door hissed closed before she could protest leaving her alone in the dark, yet strangely relived Anakin and his anger were gone.
“Threepio can you get that?”

“At once Senator Amidala!” the golden droid bustled toward the beeping door

Senator…she didn’t look much like a Senator hair frazzled eyes dark with lack of sleep. Padme had sternly resisted getting a nanny droid, believing she and Anakin would look after the twins themselves – that dream seemed long since woken from now.

“How may I…Oh…Oh…I say Your Highness what an honour it is to…”

Padme turned in time to see the hulking form of a Praetorian slide into the room without a sound, followed by another then,

“Princess what a surprise!” Padme looked about at the change table still a little grotty from Luke spraying up a storm,

“Sorry about the…”

“Ha not a problem at all Senator Amidala, may I call you Padme?”

“Of course Highness,” Mira had saved her life after all – After Anakin knocked Padme unconscious she had woken in extreme pain beneath surgical lights – she was straight into labour, stresses and emotions overwhelmed her, she felt like she was dying, and would kill her babies too, the fear became aa vicious cycle that pushed her further to the abyss…then a red light from above – a hand in hers – Mira and another woman Padme never knew the name of helped her in her near delirium to deliver the twins alive and healthy.

“Excellent, well I thought I’d pop in to see how you were getting along…if there is anything you need, how are you coping?”

“I’m…” Padme felt she couldn’t pretend with Mira despite having met her all of three times,

“Doing alright,”

“It can be hard, is General Skywalker helping?”

“Anakin is…” Padme didn’t want to say any more

“I understand it’s hard for new parents, and with twins I can’t imagine the stress…” Mira soothed

“It’s no failing to ask for help Padme…and not just with the twins,”

Padme stopped her rocking of Luke as Mira’s words struck

“He’s not coping well is he?” Mira continued “Still in ‘war’ mode…Uncle Sheev thought this might happen, please sit,” Mira gestured to the couch as he Praetorians remained fixed in place as if they had been part of the room for years.

“That’s…exactly what I’m afraid of…Annie has had…” Padme didn’t want to speak about the Tusken incident directly

“Issues before…I’m afraid the war, losing Ashoka, the Jedi Coup has made it worse…and  nowlosing Obi-wan,”

“Yes...it was unfortunate who’d have thought he was so enmeshed in the conspiracy,” Mira placated

Padme strongly doubted there was ever a Jedi conspiracy to overthrow the Republic –but with the Twins she didn’t have time to investigate, let alone the energy to do anything about it.

“But still it worries me to see you like this Padme, I must say I was a fan of your speeches in the senate, and your actions in the War, Rodia, Mandalore, and the hostage crisis, you always showed such strength and creativity, the Empire needs women like you,” Mira gestured toward Luke

“And your children need to see strong women like you…”

Just then Leia started to cry,

“Oh, do you mind if I…” Mira queried

“Go ahead,” Padme allowed, Mira stepped over and swept the baby up, Leia immediately quietened and seemed to almost giggle, spraying spittle on Mira’s hair.

“Such a strong little woman! Oh what a future you shall have, perhaps a Queen and Senator like your Mother!”

“Huh…not much of Queen at the moment,” Padme said sullenly able to smell the fact she hadn’t showered in two days

“That’s where you’re wrong Padme,” Mira added her finger gripped by Leia’s hand

“A Queen looks after the most needy of her people, no one is more in need of your care than these two,”

She went back to sit beside her

“But you need to look after yourself first…I know you want to look after the children yourself, but you need a break occasionally…I could easily arrange for your parents to come from Naboo…or for you to go there, you have plenty of maternity leave,”

“Yes I saw you got the Parental Leave approved, two years paid leave for all new parents…” Padme recalled for a late night watching the holonews- the anchor Candi’s voice seemed to settle Luke.

“Yes…Bail was instrumental in seeing it passed, he’s a good man, I hope to work with him more closely,” Mira added, Padme could only agree, it was good to see Bail was heavily involved in the new administration.

“Speaking of work…if you ever want a break from diapers, I have a small task you might enjoy…”

Padme perked up…maybe Mira was right, maybe she needed a break, even just for a day,

“What is it,”

“A bit of diplomatic research – have you heard of Bakura?”

Scorched flesh burnt in his nose as the room flickered red and white.  

The pain was like a sheet of flame down his right arm, the real fingers on his left hand tingling – yet it wasn’t a pain you turned from – it was building to a climax as muscle and bone rebuilt.

His mouth twisting in a grunt he finally blew out and stopped the flow as relief washed over him in the now lightless room.

“R2 light…” he ordered

The white of the lab in the bowels of the newly name Princess Alina Medical Centre hurt his eyes after so much darkness as Vader tugged the now empty drips of red fluid that had appear like molten blood-gold from his upper right arm.  

The lower arms was sensitive to each gust of his breath, pink with white splotches…but real flesh for all that. Vader was whole again.

But was he even Vader anymore, had he ever been?  In the Holonews he was feted as General Skywalker, Hero of the Empire, defeating the treasons Jedi Yoda, Windu and Obi-Wan, preventing the coup that would’ve seen a Jedi Theocracy instead of a Benevolent Empire.

Even his Master seemed slightly indifferent about the title of Vader.

“Well done apprentice…” speak of the Sith…

Palpatine swept in the lab without any of his attendants this time.

“You learn quickly…” his aged grandfatherly eyes swept over the restored limb

“Perhaps a little rushed, but for the first attempt this is quite well done,”

Vader (?) lowered his head in deference

“Thank you Master…” The power of shatterpoint healing was, once understood simple, but to achieve any significant results, it required tremendous raw power – healing a minor cut or graze was one thing – restoring a limb…he was drenched with sweat beneath the surgical gown.  

“Perhaps it would be useful for you to practice...yes…yes…you will go to the Rejuvenant in Orbit and minister to the wounded clones aboard the Medical Frigate…I will send a team from the Communications Department with you, this will increase your profile further.”

“As you wish Master…” inwardly Anakin – Vader – General Skywalker? Rankled at the publicity stunt, Sidious seemed more interested in using Vader as a Spokesman, a war hero and now healer to be lauded instead of a Sith Lord.

“Something Troubles you Anakin…” his serene face turned serious

“You know you can always speak to me about anything…”

Vader paused uncertainly, there were many things he wished to speak about, the Jedi, Padme, Mira, the Praetorians…he picked the least controversial.

“It just seems…pointless, when there still might be Jedi out there plotting to attack us…we should be looking for them.”

In what was once the true Palpatines secret study Mira sighed as she held the Control Orb for the Clone…the warrior Skywalker wanted a war to fight – if she didn’t give him one he would make one.  

“The Jedi will soon vanish from history, by attacking them we would only provoke them into action…once they see the benefits the Empire brings to all law abiding citizens they majority will see what dogmatic anachronisms they are and settle into new lives…those few that persist in acting above the law will be dealt with by the Seneschals and Praetorians…”

“Master I should be leading the pursuit not the Praetorians! No one knows the Jedi better than I do”

And no one is less emotionally stable in their presence Mira mused.

“Yes…I can feel your rage…” Palpatine hissed
“It fogs your thoughts, weakens you – its source… you feel overlooked,” his tone was warm and soothing yet felt sickly in Anakin’s ears
“Suborned by the new forces…pushed aside by the Princess…and…”

Anakin felt the brush of Sidious power on his mind as the old man closed his eyes – it was different to how it had first felt, but then the first time after the attack of Windu Sidious was likely in pain from the now repaired lighting scars.

“Yes…ignored by Padme…you feel she is spending all her time with the twins…that she doesn’t love you as much as she loves them….don’t you…” Palpatines voice was soft as it was sinister.

“I…you’re correct Master…” he had been so afraid they would die like in his vision…but it had been…different….

After leaving Obi-Wan to the Praetorians he had watched the magma flows of Mustafar, the flams like his anger channelling through him till he was distributed.
“Lord Vader, your wife…” The woman behind him was exceptionally beautiful, golden red hair, alabaster skin and rich pink lips.

“Who are you?”

“Mira Palpatine…Niece to your master Sidious,”

“What…he never…”

“Lord Vader there was much he had to keep hidden from the Jedi, he long suspected their violent ambitions. I assembled a special force – the Praetorian Guard to act as soon as they made their move – as you know that time has now come…as has your child’s…”

Her words were…true…yet…somehow muddled in the order.
“I…yes…”

Following her to the ship he had watched on as his children were born, Padme crying, an ever dissolving life presence in the Force!

“No You have to save her!”  his rage built as the ship buckled and shook with his emotions,

“It’s alright Lord…watch…” Mira placed her hand over Padme’s sweat covered brow –a flow of what appeared to be red lighting filling his wife with life energy as the first of the twins cried.

…And so Padme was saved, Sidious promise was kept, albeit through the hands of his niece Mira.  

“…Thing have not been as I hoped” Anakin returned to the present.  He thought their life would be…better than this, exciting, adventurous, free of the Jedi constraints he could be with Padme all he wanted…instead she was forever running off to the twins too tired to pay him any attention – didn’t she know what he had done to save her!

What and WHO he had to sacrifice!

“Trust me Anakin, I have a far more important task for you than chasing the rotten husks of Jedi that dare to challenge our new Empire…but first you need to master the lessons I have given you…”

“Perhaps if I knew what the task was…I might be able to better prepare for it…” Anakin half snapped at Sidious who responded by placing a gentle aged hand on his back guiding him out of the room.

“Of course Apprentice…tell me have you heard of the Ssi Ruuk?”

“A Mon Calamari and Nautolan enter a Restaurant, the Chef Says ‘Sushi Up!’”
The jester squeaked as he danced atop a colourful ball trying to keep his long sleeves from tripping him over.

Across the floor his audience of one offered a mocking smile.

“I’ve heard that before, it wasn’t funny then,” her left hand balled into a fist
“And it isn’t funny now,”

“What did the rancor say to the…”

“I’ve heard that one too, you’re being boring stop being boring or I’ll shoot you out the airlock!”

With a triple flip he landed in front of her throne, placing his hands in between his legs he widened his eyes as much as possible

“Princess not hurt her favourite Jester?”

She leaned forward

“Princess won’t hurt her favourite jester but you won’t be my favourite anymore if you don’t make me laugh,”

She pulled back with a sigh
“It’s so boring, its takes so loooong to get anywhere,” she shifted in her seat
“My panties are bunching up,”

“This one like you will!” the jester beamed
“The Princess Mira favourite glove what is?”
“What…” she purred
“The Emperor!”
Despite herself she felt a thin smile curve her face.

“I suppose that will do….for now…”

“How long till we get there Uncle?” He wasn’t really her uncle, actually a second cousin but given he was much older than her it was agreed as a more convenient and fitting title.

<1432 seconds Sweetling….> he thought across.

“hunnnh…” she sighed out she had best wash and get dressed in that case she had to make a good first impression after all.

The Fountain Palace was resplendent for the occasion, the fortress palace built atop a rocky half mountain that spilled sapphire blue fountains into a lake moat around it had been thoroughly polished by hand – Chume Ni’Korish taking special delight in ordering a number of Marquesses and Duchesses to polish the floors of the Grand Throne Room as a sign of fidelity and feel most honoured about doing so.

The numerous turrets and towers fluttered with heraldic banners of her own House as well as those of the Consortium itself, the Queens Guard wore their parade best, gold and silver with blue edging and rich capes.  The Chume’da Ta’a Chume in a silk brocade dress stood just behind the Chamberlin who herself was in her finest white with a golden sash.  Naturally Ni’Korish would not attend the royal Hangar herself, she would await the so called Princess to attend her in the Grand Throne Room.

She watched a projection of the arrival from her Emerald Throne surrounded by the favoured and the fabulously wealthy, amidst the crowd her Nephew Lsander casting envious eyes upon the assembly of Battle Dragons that lined the route for the Princesses ship.

Flanked by six Venator Destroyers and innumerable support ships, the Princess had been escorted by the Hapan fleet through the Transitory Mists for the last day and half.  It was a strong showing for the new Empire, not quite a full battle fleet, but more than enough to pose a serious threat to the Consortium were things to turn. A delicately balanced sign of strength and restraint.

The image shifted to the skies across the Capital Ta’a Chume’Dan – the air ways cleared of all traffic for the Princesses arrival, Miy’till fighters executing graceful manoeuvres and streaming clouds of blue, gold and red in floral patterns in the skies – behind the less elegant Imperial fighters – ARC170s and ETAs, a number of Void capable gunships and in their midst three black daggers that looked horrendously out of place amongst them. 

They were hard to look at, wavering light at the edges – Hapans had as a rule poor night vision, and something about these ships plating offended her eyes by reminding the Queen mother of that limitation.

All this pomp did not impress Princess Alina at all…less so her Uncle who stood arms folded across his armoured chest beside her on their ship.

<Rotational support struts offer minimal resistance to kinetic damage – one shikkar torpedo on tier 2 control to shear…poor targeting systems, trained crews but inexperienced relative to Clone forces by factor of 2.23. Enemy fleet tactics focused on mass attacks to disable shields then scatter proton torpedoes, Telekinetic countermeasures easily employed…overall maximum required three level of conscious effort to render incapable with current force…>

Her uncle nodded concurring with Alina’s analysis as the assault transport approached the Royal hangar of the Fountain Palace or Castle of Per’Athra overlooking the capital – it was of course actually a hyper drive capable ship termed Star Home that the Hapans thought the Empire did not know about.  Perhaps the Empire did not – but the Hapan Admiral who escorted them from the edge of the Transitory Mists to Hapes proper did know and thought very loudly - so now they all knew.

The ramp descended to reveal the Chamberlain and the Chume’da, before Alina could step forward her jester rolled down the ramp onto the red carpet surprising the small welcoming party by bursting up, his belled hat and garish blue and red chequered outfit contrasting painfully with his green skin.

“To the Fountain Palace we have been shipped – will we find water falls or drips!” he squeaked melodiously as the Chamberlain eyed him venomously but retained a straight face as Alina descended, her hair up with a low cut top and long skirt.  The Queens guard bowed as she stepped along flanked by her own guards.

<Three more hidden in the catwalks> her uncle noted

<Send them a message> she replied swiftly as the Chamberlain bowed and the Chume’da curtsied, Alina replied with a half curtsy, given she was the niece of an Empress that put her above the princess of a few dozen worlds.

“Her munificence, the incomparable Chume Ni’Korish welcomes her most Benevolent highness Princess Alina to Hapes and the Fountain Palace and has assigned me to see to your every wish.”

“Wish you would not grant her wish she does!” the jester squeaked up leaping around them to get attention as if his brightly coloured oversized clothes were not eye drawing enough.

“…ah yes…May I present the hope of Hapes, woman of greatest kindness and splendour Chume’da Ta’a’Chume” the Chamberlin went on in her sonorous yet high pitch tone apparently attempting to get even the columns of the hangar to listen.

“You’re not going to talk like this the whole time are you?” Alina asked raising an eyebrow “Goddesses it’s annoying, she stepped past and held out her hands to the Chume’da,

“So good to meet a fellow princess!”

The Chume’da smiled and slightly hesitantly took her hands – not out of anxiety or nerves, the 19 year old woman had none of that, but out of disgust at having to consider the House of Palpatine upstart an equal.  Alina just smiled and squeezed her gloved hands noting every little shard of displeasure her presence sparked off the courtly courtesy painted faces.

Moving swiftly thought the decorated halls, they were bowed to by exactly 132 Queens Guard – almost half their reported number – who lined the corridors to the Grand Throne room where Ni’Korish waited upon her emerald throne.

As Alina entered the vast audience of courtiers all bowed as was fitting.

As Alina approached the centre of the room between the crowd of courtiers in garish outfits and the Master of Ceremonies began a long winded announcement of the Queen Mother and ALL her titles Ardyn analysed the crowd – it was a twisted labyrinth of hatreds, plots and scheming the shatter point of which was the Queen Mother herself. 

The complexity of kinship and ranks within the Hapan court was no challenge for him.  His own People were subject to equally complex relationships – everyone was related to everyone else by some degree – the Princess herself was his second cousin, though Uncle was an easier title given her relative youth – it was essential to know exactly who was related to who and by how much for the purposes of arranging marriages to avoid in breeding.

The difference was the virulence of the hatred toward such close kin for what seemed to him utterly petty reasons – this one was jealous of that one for being named cup bearer at a wedding two years ago, another was planning to assassinate her grandmother for her estates afraid she would birth a new heir with her young new lover.

They all worked for their own ambitions, all sought to be on top – this would be their down fall.  Indeed the aether was so toxic it was easier to pick out who was not a spy or had a vendetta they were pursuing.

As the official pronouncements wound down the Queen Mother finally stood and spoke herself

“We welcome her Highness to the Consortium and look forward to strengthening our mutually beneficial ties with the most Benevolent Empire,”
Liar

 “Unnggghhh” she flopped down on the bed they had allocated for her sick of the stench of Outsiders…

“Oh…” she quickly leapt back off as the beds wooden legs began to break under her weight

“Useless things, built for wispy little humans…”

The Apartment appeared well apportioned, all the modern conveniences discreetly hidden behind opulent draws or cupboard doors, but it was of course filled with listening devices.  She could care less.

“Fool start singing!” she ordered as her Jester leapt and danced on a table kicking off an array of perfumes in his clumsiness

“See the Little Goblin, see his little feet. And his little nosey-wose, isn't the Goblin sweet?”

Ungh that was even worse but at least it gave the Hapans nothing to listen to of any substance. 

“I’m hungry…” she paced about looking at the fruits left for her…

“Pathetic…” dry leaves from home would be more fulfilling…once more she’d have to stick to their special bars and slices – of course she could eat outsider food, but it was so pathetically lacking in nutritional content it wasn’t worth the hassle.

<did you teach those spies in the hangar a lesson…> she queried her uncle in the ante-room

<They’ve been dealt with…two were working for the Queen Mother, the other a spy for her nephew Lsander>

Hmmm…that was interesting…males couldn’t really hold much power in Hapes…so how did he get a spy so deep in the palace.

<Keep me informed….and bring me some food - and a bed pan or something my royal arse isn’t touching something an outsider had touched!>



The Grand Dining Hall was full to bursting with sights, sounds and smells.  The greatest Marquises and duchesses, baronesses and Admirals of Hapes in their finest gowns each trying to outdo the other in opulence and beauty – no doubt the rejuvenate clinics had been run off their feet with last minute age reduction treatments over the last few days.

Yet Lsander had his eyes on only one figure.  At the raised table at the end of the hall the Princess Alina tossed pieces of chilled Hen-salmon caviar – worth more than diamonds gram for gram – at her absurd green skinned dwarfish jester who leapt up catching them in his mouth. 

The Queen Mother seemed less than impressed but her face remained icy beside her as various members of the extensive royal family knelt on the step before them to offer greetings and fealty to Ni’Korish. 

Lsander had to play this carefully, he needed to get the Princess attention yet not make it obvious to Ni’Korish.  As Nephew of the Queen Mother he had a high station in theory – in reality he had little to no power himself, despite being heir to vast estates Ni’Korish as House Matriarch retained effective control of them, and had been sadly disappointed when he returned alive from his few years playing the pirate beyond the transitory mists as so many young men did to taste some freedom before being married off.

He would never be married off, NiKorish intended to leave him a bachelor so that all his estate transferred to the Crown on his death instead of risking him having an heir or wife able to take back control of what was rightfully his.

Sipping on the blossom wine he resolved his course of action- he had no future in the Consortium as nephew to the Queen mother….powerless, his ambition and abilities wasted in a perfumed prison.  But in the Empire….there he could gain real power…

The Chamberlain offered a curt nod as she walked past indicating it was his turn to greet the Princess.  He straightened his real silk uniform, a deep blue with white and red sash and silver trimming.  Lsander was a handsome man if he did say so himself, and never had any difficulty in seducing courtiers and minor noble women…he had carefully watched the princess and easily sized her up. 

As he stood and made his way past servants carrying platters of golden fruits and polished meats his assessment of Alina was confirmed – she was toying with her diamond inlaid fork and shifting in her seat like a child. 

This was an energetic party girl looking to get off, bored with the courtly mission she had been sent on even before she arrived she wouldn’t take much convincing to get in to his bed.

“His Royal High….”
“Can we spare the titles I have places to be…” Lsander cut in as he knelt before the Queen Mother
“Aunty Ni, I pledge my loyalty and fealty and blah blah blah…but I really have somewhere better to be,”

Ni’Korish used to her nephews insolence said nothing but glared that he would behave so arrogantly before such an esteemed guest.

“Aunty Ni upon the throne, her cheeks never knew a blush!” the Jester danced about him its hideous yellow and blue streamer like sleeves contrasting with green skin.
“The Prince tells her he’s a better place to be, He’ll get a Royal Flush!”

“Ha…hahaha!” Alina giggled

“Princess,” Lsander looked up to meet her cool green eyes, her hair up and alabaster shoulders exposed above a pink velvet dress

“I must apologize for my Aunts boring you to death with all these formal events, I fear you’re getting the impression Hapes is full of dour old backstabbing bitches with plastic tits and lip suctioned arses.”

Ni’Korish had to use every royal ounce of restraint not to have him slapped in iron straight away…later…

“And what impression should I be getting Princeling?” she queried her voice conspiratorial and clear as the conversations and clatter of cutlery died to focus on the scene

“Why gallant virile pirates and buxom women dripping with anticipation,”

“Lustful eyes has the prince, for Princess only once met!” the Jester leapt onto the table kicking over Alina’s plate and taking up her glass full of untouched wine worth its weight in latinum,

“Question is can he with words get her very wet!” Without warning the jester threw the wine onto Lsanders face, Ni’Korish supressed a wry grin to see her nephew upstaged by the filthy Goblin.

Lsander didn’t miss a beat,

“Cute little thing isn’t he! Well when you’re bored of this drudgery Princess do come to the South Western Gardens for the real party.”

His most dashing smile he allowed the wine to drip onto his uniform unwilling to lower himself to wiping it off when a servant would do it for him.

Now this was more like it!

 

Following Lsanders advice she had headed to the gardens after the feast wrapped up with droning speeches of friendship she couldn’t even remember ten seconds after they were said.

 

The granite garden paths were lit with yellow and pink lights as the younger nobles drank, danced and made-out to the thrumming beats of three bands vying to be the loudest.

 

Stepping along with the beat of the nearer band she joined the dancers around a fountain that served as a makeshift dance floor.

 

Of course she still had to limit her movements or it would terrify the stupid outsiders, and they wouldn’t be able to see how much a better dancer she was with their hopelessly slow visual sensors.

 

Lsander smiled wickedly as he saw her start to dance, her movements more in keeping with a Nar Shadda Pole dancer than a Hapan princess…he was spot on she was a nympho minx looking for a good time.

 

As she moved effortlessly to the rhythm of the music the rest of the nobles began to look on, Lsander pushed through and only then began to get the first inklings of a sweet aroma filling his senses drawing him in as much as her erotically charged movements.

 

Her hand grasped at her dress and pulled the pink velvet up, then with a single deft movement tore the floor length dress round, ripping the costly gown apart and throwing the excess fabric onto a luck baron to leave her with a tattered mini skirt.

 

Her legs now free she leapt up on the rim of the fountain and used the statues of a former Queen Mother as a prop upon which to perform back arching turns, deep dive and near contortionist splits and leg lifts, her pale blue underwear intermittently visible amidst her movements.

 

A few of the other noble women darted envious glances at her as their own partners full attention was on her sinuous form, a few even trying to mimic her sensual moves.

 

Let the petty outsider try Alina thought, the only thing more fun that dancing was having people watch you dance knowing you were better than them.

 

Only the song dying down caused her to leap off the fountain, she grabbed a passing servant, his tray covered with glasses and a pitcher of wine – she took the pitcher and poured it into her mouth in one gulp.

 

“WOOOO!!! More music!” she demanded

 

Lsander pushed through the crowd and nodded at the band whose front man he knew to keep going – after all that wine she would be utterly soused.

 

“Finally enjoying yourself!” he called over the thumping beat

 

“Finally – do you know how boring your Aunt is!”

 

“Do I ever,” he shifted just behind and to her side mirroring her movements to partner with her, the other jealous men unwilling to challenge the Prince even as their desire for Alina throbbed.

 

She spun round to face him, the sweet scent coming off her in waves, no doubt dyed into her clothes Lsander figured trying to keep his eyes on her face and on her zig zagging hips and makeshift skirt…if she so much a raised her eyebrows he was sure he would see everything she had between those strong ivory legs…and oh how he wanted to see…touch…taste…

 

Grabbing his arm with unusual strength she wrapped his hand on her waist,

 

“Dance with me princeling…faster…faster….” He felt his thighs and hips begins to strain trying to keep up with her alcohol fuelled thrusts and twists

 

Once more she spun round and rammed backward into him nearly knocking him over, only her strong grasp of his arms down across her stomach kept him up.

 

Her back and butt pressed right into him, stirring his passions ever more strongly, the perfume coming off her was more intoxicating than deathsticks.

 

“Tighter princeling, show me just what a virile pirate you are!”

 

His ‘virility’ was almost breaking through his hand pressed trousers as her warm body clung to him, his hands on her stomach slowly moved up her sides…idly he noted she must be wearing some kind of strange corset as that wasn’t how ribs should feel…

 

“Is that all you’ve got?!” she chided as the song reached the final chorus

 

He tightened his grip and pulled her as close as he could, fingers brushing the side of her breasts,

 

“Got more than enough to satisfy your royal highness…” he pressed his mouth to her ear intermittently nibbling at it

 

“let’s get out of here and you’ll see…”

Alina licked her lips with a smile.


Hand firmly clasped around her waist he lead her away from the party,

 

“Hey wait,” she stopped at the bar “Let’s get something to drink!”

 

Not even bothering with the bar servant she leapt up onto the bar which groaned under her weight for some reason, her legs kicking in the air, pale blue panties once more showing just between, as she grabbed two bottles of strong spirits.

 

With a flick she tore he cap off one and guzzled a quarter in less than five seconds, shoving the other into Lsanders hands.

 

She pushed the open bottle into his mouth forcing him to drink in at least four shots – his pathetic biology would be effected by the chemical.

 

“I hear…*uhp*” she began, stumbling her footing

 

“You’re an ambitious little shell…” she hopped around in front of him grabbing at the already ruffled edges of his coat

 

“How BIG is your ambition….” Her left hand trailing to his belt.

 

“Too big for Hapes…” he breathed, mouth reeking of the…was it whiskey?...he couldn’t tell against the overwhelming scent of her perfume.

 

“But just the right fit for your tight…Empire….”

 

“haha….*uhp*…haha…you conquer my ‘Empire’ and I’ll take your Hapes…”

 

As they proceeded away she leaned more heavily…very heavily on him how much does she weigh?!

 

“My sister…*uhp*…she’s such a bitch….frigid as…I swear she hasn’t shoved anything up her *uhp* for ages….frell she needs a hard frelling….” Alina went on a thin trail of salvia dribbling from the side of her mouth before taking another quarter bottle swig….

 

She suddenly stared intently at the remainder of the whiskey against the yellow lights of the palace,

 

“This is gross!” no longer amused she hurled the bottle straight into the wall across the garden.

 

“Unnnggg…*uhp*…” leaning over she buried her head on Lsanders chest

 

“She sends me out here to place nice with that withered old *uhp* of a Queen…just so she can rule Hapes too…and I won’t get a thing for it…I’m just the little sister *uhp*…but maybe…” she pointed a finger into the underside of his chin

 

“If I was Queen of Hapes then I could have my own little Empire…but to do that I’d have to what is it…marry the male heir or something….”

 

Lsanders mind suddenly refocused out of its drunken haze

 

“If you married me you could be Queen mother…if my bitch aunt and cousin were both dead…”

 

“hahaha *uhp* your ambition is BIG!” she stared up at him a malicious smile on her face as she slouched onto him

 

“…and hard too I’ll bet…” her hand once more wandered down his chest past his belt to grasp at his groin

 

“*uhp* ha…nnnhh that’s what Princess needs…”

 

He leaned forward lips parting…

 

She was suddenly gone, head turned faster than he could see…he must be really drunk…

 

“Ungg I have a meeting I need to be up for in the morning…”  she stole the second bottle back off him stuck the top in her mouth and licked the glass neck seductively before sucking the cap off making him weak at the knees as she guzzled down half of it…

 

“*uhp* yuck…” she threw the bottle straight into the pavement, shattering it and wetting his trousers, fragments of glass oddly not seeming to affect her bare legs as she knelt down.

 

“Here…*uhp*…” she hefted a leg up and scrummaged round under her skirt, before switching legs and flicking the pale blue panties at him that reeked of her scent

 

“A Ladies token HARRR *uhp* Lady *uhp* to remember me by…”

 

He pressed the somewhat soiled fabric to his nose and nearly collapsed as she wandered off under the watchful gaze of her uncle perched on a roof top nearby.

 


 

“Unnnnggggg….how much did I drink….” She slammed the pillow down on her head to cut out the noise of her own breathing.

 

“The muses nectar she did consume, into the princes arms did swoon!” her jester danced about on the floor by her bed

 

Hand fumbling on the dresser she picked up a hand mirror to hurl at him, bopping the green fool on the forehead.

 

Shuffling up on the re-enforced bed she noted the thin rays of light through the drapes…she was already late for the meeting with the Queen Mother…

 

“Pfft let her wait…”


 

Head still pounding from the night before Lsander pushed on wasting no time…he had come an inch from getting the Princess in bed…next time he would go all the way, hopefully get her pregnant…

 

They both hated their more powerful kinsmen, and while Lsander couldn’t help her take the Imperial Throne they could together get some measure of power with the Hapan one.

 

Scrawling through every contact he had made in the shadow of the court he began making calls, calling in favours, a touch of subtle blackmail here and there…Alina’s Clones and Praetorians could only control so much by force, they would need a slim majority of nobles onside – fortunately Ni’Korish alienated as many Houses as she appeared to.

 

Slurping down his third cup of caf he took his first steps toward the throne.

Just as their listening devices in the guest room had indicated the Princess was quite hung over from her revelries, the court was alive with the gossip of her tearing her dress and dancing like a twi’leki whore with Prince Lsander then wandering off with him and two bottle of whiskey that each cost 500,000 credits and were found smashed against a wall and on a foot path.

 

Ni’Korish sat in her sun chair as the Princess bumbled along followed by her guard onto the balcony where they were to meet, she was 45 minutes late already, the servants had just taken up the first platter of brunch and replaced it with freshly cooked serves.

 

“Good Morning Princess,” The Queen Mother began as Alina flopped into the chair that groaned under her weight, her guard moving silently backward to stand between two of Ni’Korish own Queens Guard.

 

“No it isn’t…” Alina sulked taking the entire jug of Kyvala juice and chugging from it rather than using a glass, the pinkish juice remaining round her mouth, Ni’Korish could barely suppress the indignity at the Princesses boorish behaviour – yet Alina was the only person in the entire consortium Ni’Korish could not lecture for such slobby manners – for she would undoubtedly tell her sister Mira if she did.

 

“Egh that’s is gross…did someone piss in this?” Alina complained sniffing at the near empty glass jug then throwing it absently off the edge of the balcony.

 

“Perhaps the Princess would care for some wine?” Ni’Korish poked unable to help herself

 

“Perhaps the Queen Mother would just get to the point…” Alina turned to the guards,

“Get lost,”

 

The Queens Guard remained unmoved as the shadowy Praetorian stepped away then paused noting Ni’Korish guards remained unmoved.

 

Ni’Korish waited for the tension of the situation to build, the Princess wanted to speak privately, but Ni’Korish was determined to see just how far she could be pushed beforehand.

 

Finally Alina met her gaze and Ni’Korish assented waving her guards away.

 

“About time…now let’s get to it…what will it take for the Consortium to play nice with the Empire,” Alina asked poking at the fired eggs on offer.

 

“What does playing nice involve?” Ni’Korish replied

 

“Playing nice means implementing our policies, so no one can escape the Emperors justice by hiking across the transitory mists, and making commerce easier between us…” Alina went on despite her hungover appearance her words were unusually crisp

 

“We are a Sovereign state, no one dictates Our policy but Us,” She replied evenly

 

“You’re tiny island in the middle of a huge Empire that won’t be de-militarizing despite the last war being over,”

 

Last war…now that is interesting Ni’Korish thought

 

“It’s easier for everyone if you just toe the line and integrate, you get the benefits of more trade, tourism and protection,”

 

“Protection! The Consortium is quite capable of managing its own defences,”

 

“Phhht with those Battle Dragons, replete with dozens of structural weaknesses and Captains whose only experience is a jaunt as a pirate, and more over are just a likely to run off to their demesnes once the fighting gets thick,”

 

“We’re not at war with anyone that I know of” the Queen mother straightened in her seat “unless you have brought a battle with you”

 

“Goddess are you trying to annoy me – have you seen how divided your court is, you spend half your time keeping daggers out of your back, a quarter plumping up your wrinkles and tits with liposuction from your arse and the rest trying to wrangle the nobles to keep your government flopping apart into factionalism - You’re at war with yourself,”

 

Ni’Korish long ago learnt a trick of squeezing and relaxing her toes to release the pent up anger and maintain calm façade…the next step was stabbing a fork into her thigh…it was in her hand…

 

“…you’ve been on the verge of civil war for a decade, one spark and its lit – all your pretty little Battle Dragons will wipe each other out, then we’ll have to come in and clean up the mess…so save us the effort and just agree to integration, we’ll post a few Naval bases and garrisons and then no one will challenge your authority and you can spend more of your time frelling nineteen year old toy boys.”

 

The fork dug deep into the crimson of her silken dress, the implicit threat that the Empire would start a civil war to then move in as ‘peacekeepers’ all too obvious.

 

“Under no circumstances…” Ni’Korish adopted her Queen Mother voice, deep and stern darkening the morning lit balcony,

“…will We permit Imperial forces to establish a military presence within the consortium…”

 

“If You won’t maybe I’ll find another Royal ‘We’ who will,” Alina’s eyes narrowed

 


 

Ardyn shifted uncomfortably in the blue outfit – he was not used to being out of his armour off-world…

 

He felt so exposed among the vast number of Outsiders that thronged around the Fountain Palace, plotting and scheming, hoping to get an audience with the Queen mother to prosecute some petty grievance.  They all stank of synthetic perfumes, make up and lies.

 

Regardless he would see that his niece…the easiest description for Alina rather than second cousin on his mother’s side and third on his fathers….had her plans advanced.

 

It was a curious feeing to hide in plain sight as he wandered through the crowd of whispers, without his armour he was just another humanoid minor nobleman to them, they were oblivious to the fact he could easily kill every one of them before their minds even registered they were under attack.  Even the Queens Guard dotted around didn’t give him a second look.

 

Only the handful of Hapan Intelligence officers amongst the well to do offered any chance of detection, but they were mere Hapans, the slightest touch with the aether and he diverted their attention away to others.

 

Finally he neared his contact

 

“…and then I hear she pulled down her bra and yelled ‘well at least mine are still perky!’”

 

A trill stream of stifled laughter followed as they came up with ever more outrageous stories about Princess Alina’s meeting with the Queen Mother, she was the talk of the court following that, Lsanders scene at the feast and the after party where it was already rumoured Alina had drunk six Queens guard under the table then frelled four of them at the same time.

 

“The Marquessa of Ts’Chala just told me her seamstress saw the Princess head straight to Lsanders quarters after that in tears,” Ardyn broke in, to the dismissive gaze of the Hapan women, and curious of the few men that a man should interject in such a matriarchal society.  There were similarities to his own People in that, but the People never let their reverence for the feminine exceed what was pragmatic or override outright merit as they did in Hapes – no doubt a side effect of their hierarchical society.

 

“No doubt she did,” his contact replied in soft feminine tones “The Prince seems to be bold of late, no doubt thinks he can sleep his way to power in the Empire…he’s on a collision course with the Queen Mother after last night,”

 

“The Queen will tear him to shreds,” a Countess said dismissively, “She only puts up with him because of the rumours she’s his mother – to send him into internal exile on an Estate would lend credence to them,”

 

“Oh pooh that’s a twenty year old rumour how could she have hid the pregnancy,”

“She couldn’t,” Ardyn’s contact noted “But her mother could’ve at the time to avoid the scandal of the Chume’Da having sex with her own half-brother…such an incestuous revelation would’ve spelt doom for her,”

 

Ardyn understood the instruction clearly as the gossip continued.


 

The formal talks were held in the Grand Ballroom, decked out with innumerable tables in skyblue cloths.

 

It had an inauspicious start with the chair for Princess Alina breaking under her weight, and her eyes constantly rolling as the Chamberlin opened proceeding with a two hour speech on the grand history of the Consortium and its desire to ‘retain its unique sovereignty hand in hand with friendship of our neighbours’.

 

This was followed by the much more terse speech by the Imperial Tribune Sweitt Concorkill, the Vurt Senator of Sembla who had been on the Delegation of 2000 calling for restrictions to the Emperors powers, but following Palptaine…or rather Mira’s…concessions now eagerly accepted the role of Tribune.

 

His speech parroted parts of the Tarkin Doctrine

 

“For the first time in one thousand generations the Government will not be working solely to enrich Coruscant and the Core Worlds, but to advance the quality of life in every star system, keeping the spaceways safe, maintaining open and accessible communications, assuring that tax revenues are properly levied and allocated to improving the infrastructure and quality of life for all our citizens and sharing those benefits to our friends and allies in the Consortium”

 

Whether we like it or notNi’Korish seethed silently on her throne as the speech finished and the discussions on reforming diplomatic relations began.  She glanced around the room noting her nephew surrounded by a larger cohort of cronies than usual, her intelligence indicated he had been doing the rounds, calling in favours and blackmailing to the hilt…

 

Ni’Korish could not be certain Lsander was in league with Alina…it would fit,, two young boisterous children getting together to capture the kingdom, and Lsander would be dumb enough to allow the Empire to take over the Consoritum so long as he got to play the King.

 

The starting point was the Consortiums previous treaty with the now defunct Republic than facilitate the use of Republic Credits as the basis for the Consortiums economy and established the borders of the Consortium but little else of substance past sweeping statement of friendship.

 

Immediately Senator Concorkill began pushing his mistresses agenda suggesting joint military patrols, removal of all Trade restrictions and tariffs, the establishment of Imperial Embassies on ALL of the sixty main worlds in the Consortium, and most proactively…

 

“…we also request the Queen Mother amend the restrictions on Hapan Citizens serving in non-Hapan militaries…if a Hapan citizen desires to join the Imperial Army we welcome them fully and wish to see no restrictions from them serving,”

 

The idea of her own citizens joining the Imperial Navy made Ni’Korish wish for another fork to release the pent up tension as Alina smiled across form her.  Ni’Korish ministers suitably deflected the proposals by accepting the proposed treaty gladly and requesting a three day recess to look over the details before formal negotiations began.

 

Three days to find a way to derail the Empires push into the Consortium.  Ni’Korish knew she was outmatched militarily, they could not stand against a battle hardened Clone Fleet lead by merciless Praetorians said to be even deadlier than the Jedi.

 

Nor could she simply have Alina assassinated or poisoned, that would bring down the whole Empire upon her, nor could she move on Lsander whilst Alina was smitten with him.  She had to find a way to send Mira’s little sister back in disgrace and shame…fortunately her party girl ways would make that terribly easy.

 


 

Lsader tapped his toes anxiously in the pantry room, finally the door opened and his contact arrived

 

“Just what you wanted my Prince…but I’m afraid it was more difficult to obtain than I thought…”

 

“Of course it was how much…”

 

“Double..”

 

“Dou….” Lsander ceased his protest an unclenched his fist from striking he insolent commoner…Once I’m Prince of the Empire none of this will matter

 

“fine…” he handed him the small bag of credits and accepted the ring – it had a strange sheen on the jewel – a hormonal stimulant that one might unkindly call a ‘spike’ that in contact with skin would deliver its hypnotic drug through the blood stream to dull the senses but stimulate the body – with this he could ensure he got Alina into bed…frell her into compliance then finally Hapes would be his.

 


 

“You delivered it…”

 

“I did Lord,” the Imperial Security Bureau Agent knelt before Ardyn

 

“Very good, Landers plan continues to gather pace, he already has half the court under his banner….begin implementing Stage three…”

 

The ISB agent nodded and rose, Ardyn remembering his briefing on dealing with outsider servants he stepped forward and placed his gauntleted hand on the Agents shoulder, the weight of it causing him to buckle slightly

 

“Well done Ferris, your dedication to the Empire is cherished, no matter the outcome I will speak to the Princess of your exemplary service personally,”

 

Agent Ferris nodded the aether lighting with his sense of pride to be recognised for his efforts – such small gestures would win them fanatical loyalty

Alina was already deep into her cups at the Feast by the time Lsander arrived fashionably late, her jester cavorting around in his sickly yellow outfit.

 

“A great accord they seek to reach, too much time they spent on speech!”

 

It trilled about rolling and jumping knocking over people’s cups and plates, he could not imagine how angry it must be making Ni’Korish,

 

“A word or two is all it takes, for the Empire to claim its stake…hmmmhahahaha…” it rolled onto the floor leapt up on a servants back and pulled a floral hair piece from her head then presented it to the Chume’Da beside Ni’Korish who not certain what to do simply accepted it and placed it beside her plate.

 

Lsanders followers in Hapan intelligence had given him a brief dossier on the jester, but he could not believe it was who they claimed it to be – surely even Mira could not turn such a Grand warrior into a badly singing Fool.

 

The ring on his finger he sauntered up to make his obedience once more,

 

“Erenda,” he addressed the Queen mother formally

 

“You do look ravishing tonight,”

 

Ni’Korish didn’t even spare him a glance

 

“and Chume’Da beautiful as always…only outshone by your fellow princess, our esteemed guest,” he turned to Alina

 

“Your most Benevolent Highness,” he bowed low with a wicked smile

 

“Benevolent and caring the Empire would be seen!” The Jester interrupted suddenly ending on his bent back

 

“But beware the abyss hiding underneath!”

 

“ahahaha!” Alina giggled as Lsander ruffled himself to throw the interloper off

 

“Yes well, I do hope you’ll join me for another dance Princess,”

 

“Ugh I’m over dancing…” Alina replied absently twirling a knife on her finger with uncanny balance.

 

“…I think I’ll turn in early and jump my hyperdrive a few times….”

 

Ni’Korish almost choked on her drink, the Chume’Da blushed furiously before waving her fan in front of her face.

 

“As it please your highness….” Was all Lsander could say.  Alina dropped the knife and threw down another whole glass of wine.

 

“Come on you useless green goblin,” she demanded of her Jester who was juggling three goblets.


Lsander strode back disappointed…there was just no accounting for the flippancy of women he supposed…his plan couldn’t be delayed much longer, every hour he didn’t make his move was another in which one of his ‘supporters’ might rat him out to Ni’Korish.

 

Turning the corner into a hall lined with paintings he heard a soft giggle, then stumbled back as a hideous green face thrust in front of him.

 

“Get away from me freak!” he blazed at the jester

“Oh so cruel when good news I bring!”

 

Lsander looked down dismissively at the creature “Speak peasant,”

 

“The Princess wished to see in private!  Take you too her I will,” it held up an ugly claw like finger

 

“shhh quiet it must be kept, follow me hrmmhahaha!”

 

finally! Lsander smiled fingering the doped ring progress

 


Her hands ran along the firm muscled chest as she breathed in the sweaty masculine scent – she always had her toys do a little work out to get nice and warm beforehand.

 

“So young and strong….are you ready to serve your Queen?” Ni’Korish whispered in the boys ear

 

“Anything Erenda,” he said slightly nervous, she would soon soothe him of that, her hand reached down his toned abs….

 

“Your Majesty…”

 

“WHAT!” she shouted backward at the handmaid

 

“Apologies Majesty…but you asked to be informed….”

 

Ni’Korish pounded over toward her to listen in

 

<Lsander is being taken to the Princess by her jester> the handmaid – a member of Hapan Intelligence whispered.

 

<Shall we cancel your schedule?>

 

“No…” Ni’Korish whispered back

“Let them meet, I’ll continue as planned….his spies will notice if my routine changes, I won’t let him think I am afraid of his scheming” – nor would she be denied her dalliances with a few strong young men to take the edge off her anger.

 


 

“How far is she!” Lsander complained as the wound through back passages of the Fountain Palace even he had never been through

 

“Not far Princess not far!”

 

Finally they came through a darkened utility passage to a door with a red hazard light lit.

 

Something in the shadows shuffled and briefly caught Lsanders eyes but he paid it no mind.

 

The jester leapt up to grasp comically at the handle.  It swung open to reveal a room bedecked with luxuriant couches and pillows in a dim yellow light – not doubt one of the dozens of Tryst rooms hidden around the palace for nobles to engage in semi-secret affairs.

 

“Where is she?” he demanded,

“Here soon here soon, yourself prepare…clothes not needed hrmmmhahaha!”

 

Lsanders lips twitched as the Jester waddled out closing the door.  With little else to do he began to undress, keeping the doped ring on.

 

After what seemed like an age spent trying to position himself in the most seductive way possible on the lounge and pouring out half a dozen cups of spirits for the Princess voracious appetite the door opened.

 

Alina strode in head held high, the door seeming to close of its own accord behind her.

 

“My my aren’t we excited….” she noted

 

“How could I not be when such beauty stands before me…” Lsander replied as Alina slowly took off her night dress, the dim light made it hard to see but it seemed she wasn’t quite a taught and firm as she appeared…probably used a corset and shape wear - no matter overall he could live with it for the throne.

 

She strode over and dragged her fingers down his chest, he reached out and pressed the doped ring to her naked arm administering the stimulant with a barely noticeable prick.

 

“Are you ready to serve your Erenda?” Alina asked as Lsander waited for the drug to take hold.

 

“Without hesitation future Queen of Hapes….”

 

Her expression seemed oddly conflicted for a moment until the drug soothed away her questioning.

 

As they plunged into each other’s mouths none noticed the small black ball hidden among the cushions left by the jester.


 

A spring in his step he hurried along the corridor the written invitation firmly in his hand as memories of the night before still swept across his mind.

 

After hours of passion he’d headed back to his apartments, and woken in the morning to a formal invitation delivered by a Praetorian no less to attend upon Princess Alina with all due haste.

 

He felt a King already as the Praetorian escort’s mere presence swept away all the onlookers and gawkers as he held his head higher than ever before.

 

Finally he arrived in her apartment, she looked radiant in her silken dress, he smirked that it was his affections that had given her such an afterglow.

 

“Oh there you are….leave us…” the Praetorian stepped out and with eerie silence closed the door.

 

“Take your clothes off,” she ordered

 

He didn’t need to be asked twice

 

“Yes Erenda!” she had insisted he call her that last night, already taking on the affectations of a Queen Mother it seemed.

 

Finally discarding his boxers he stood full attention before her…then he noted her expression.

 

“That’s it?...Was I supposed to be impressed…?”

 

“Did you think you could just waltz in here and I’d spread my legs or you, overcome by your virile charms?” her tone was both incredulous and irritated

 

“Just wiggle that thing at me and I’ll fall head over heels, bra off, panties wet,” she pointed undauntedly at his very prominent preponderance that began to deflate under her barrage of dismissal.

 

“What did you think would happen,” with those words he felt something push like a dagger behind his eyes, image of the tryst he had intended…no not even that his basest fantasies flashed like a holo-movie in front of him,

 

“Goddess you’re gross, you really think I’d let you do that in my hair and enjoy it…”

 

How could she see….

 

“Ewww…on what planet would I stick my tongue up there! I should have you whipped for even thinking such a thing!”

 

“But last night….”

 

“Last night what?”

 

“We…you and I…you said you wanted to lick every part….”

 

She sneered and shattered his illusions

“I never said a thing…I don’t know where you were last night but I was in here having a great time on my own….”

 

“But your jester lead you to the room….”

 

“My Jester!” She laughed

 

“You idiot he’s a jester! He makes jokes….and now he’s made you the biggest joke of all!” somehow a holo projector on the bedside cabinet activated showing himself naked and in between a woman’s thighs…only as they moved in their passion did he see who the woman was.

 

He vomited.

 


 

“I think….” Alina said smugly as Ni’Korish twisted the fork in her thigh

 

“You should abdicate in favour of your daughter….after all if I was caught frelling my own nephew – who was rumoured to be my son as well -  I don’t think I could keep the respect of the army of backstabbing bitches that make up the Hapan court….”

 

The video was all over the Court, picts, close ups…everything….Even as Lsanders support fell away in an instant it was hardly a victory considering he was now termed ‘Queen-freller’.

 

Somehow she had underestimated Alina…she had believed the boisterous party girl image, not realising it was a cover for something far more malevolent.

 

“You know, we can get you two a place on Coruscant, no one will judge you or recognise you there!” Alina offered. “Young hearts can run free Eerenda….”

 


 

The cheers of the regular people drowned out the screech of the Miy’till fighters overhead at the hasty coronation, along with the regular Hapan Army and Queens Guard were a number of Clone battalions the Hapan Royal Seal Side by Side with the Imperial Crest reflecting the new arrangements.

 

The new Queen mother Ta’a Chume was far more agreeable to Imperial integration than her mother had been, and far less disruptive than an ambitious little slug like Lsander would’ve been.

 

More importantly she was perhaps the Only person in Hapes not despised by one faction or the other, Ni’Korish supporters hated Lsander, Lsander’s hated Ni’Korish – but all were lukewarm toward the Chume’Da making her the perfect compromise ruler.

 

Ardyn smirked behind his helmet, the arrogance of that male Outsider to believe a real woman like Alina would ever let him near her expect to be used as a pawn.  Even his pathetic dope ring would’ve had no effect, the blood brain barrier and cellular digestion of People easily able to handle such petty poisons – how little they understood.

 

The parade to the Fountain Palace marked a new day for Hapes, and the Empire…the excess of ambitious nobles would be funnelled into the Imperial Army, the Hapan military slowly integrated along with it.

 

63 systems into the Empire…The plan was working.

 


 

“Well it seems you’re not a fellow princess anymore!” Alina noted as she stood beside the throne after the coronation as over and the vast hall emptied out.

 

“You’re a full Queen now…and no doubt a much better one than your mother was.”

 

Ta’a Chume glanced briefly to her benefactor, she might not be overly fond of the Empire…but she could read the times, Hapes would be absorbed one way or the other, her mother had been too obstinate to back down, and Ta’a Chume too anxious for the throne to wait for her to die…disgrace was far easier and with neutral Imperial Garrisons staffed by Hapan officers the potential for civil war between factitious nobles was all effectively neutered – none would risk the wrath of a Queen backed by the Emperor – or rather Mira.

 

“I hope to be, I look forward to visiting you on Coruscant to attend the swearing in of our new Senators,”

 

Part of the deal meant Hapes got one Senator for each inhabited System, a voting block of 63 in the Imperial Senate, overnight they became one of the greatest pools of influence in the Empire – this was a level of power her mother could never have achieved.

 

“Oh I’m sure my sister will show you a good time, I have a few other visits to make before going back,”

 

“hmm perhaps a delegation from Hapes could attend your journey…to extoll the benefits  co-operation can achieve,” And see just what other deals you cut people

 

Alina smiled

 

“I’d like that…” she held out her arm to the new Queen Mother

 

“Well ready to party, I feel like dancing!”

I have to say: I'm VERY glad that you came back to this story LSG!

I'm loving the Mirror Hapes Consortium.  There's SO much potential for stories here (and in the normal Forumverse...well, let me just say that I've got my own plans concerning everyone's favorite blue-lipped, dark skinned, diminutive Gray Master  ;)) and you do NOT disappoint!  I have to admit that it was cathartic seeing Ta'a Chume taken down like that (if somewhat disturbing) after her own vile machinations...but then again, that's kind of the point with the Mirror setting  ;)

Alina makes an interesting anti-villain, especially as she sows the seeds of discontent through the Hapes Court.  Here's to hoping that we learn more about her "uncle" Ardyn  :)

Sweat streaked along his grimy forearm as he wiped it off his brow.  It wasn’t especially hot in the Coruscant sun beaming down into the pit, but the exertion of long hours hauling rubble that was making him sweat.

It was inefficient to do this by hand, but it achieved a greater goal.

Around him in North Pit 5 were nearly 2000 other labourers of all species. The pit was nearly 500 metres into the ground now, only that the overall site was so large did the sun reach it at all.  On scaffolds, hover-sleds and in the bedrock they hauled more rubble away and demolished ancient and once hallowed shrines and temples.

Amidst the labourers squads of Clones patrolled quietly, occasionally handing out water flasks to grateful workers.  And they were grateful.  For many this was their first real job, their first chance to make a living not by selling home cooked narcotics, prostitution or as part of a gang – that was why this was done by hand, to give jobs to the under levels once near feral underclasses.

Going back to work he hefted the power-pick to knock down what had once been an internal wall – the ornate carvings longs since smoothed to obscurity by time and weight.  Amidst the grotty workers were the archaeology and recovery teams, taking picts and artefacts away from the site, occasionally prying out murals or statues that modified LAATs lifted off. 

The hum of one the LAATs over the pits was constant.  Hanging off the edge by a single handhold, a warrior prepared to leap down into the pit and deal death at any moment – a Praetorian who observed everything going on below with silent precision.

The first time he had been near one was…humbling to say the least.  All his years as a Knight couldn’t prepare him for the feeling of vertigo when one walked past, or the sinking of his stomach when its eyes fell upon him at Spaceport.  But from the high platform it did nothing to stop him or his apprentice being permitted through.

Du’An Chillum understood hierarchy, he was amidst the workers, above them the talkers – the archaeologists and Clone officers – but the true masters were the ones who said nothing and watched everything.

“The Time is Now 07:00 Shifts Aurek, Besh and Cresh Have now finished, Gloria in Excelsis Imperator”

“Gloria in Excelsis Imperator!!!” nearly 500 workers and all the Clones shouted back.  As Chillum headed back to the Equipment lockers he noted the increasing numbers of those who fervently called before and after each shift, at first it had been a few dozen, but every shift a few more joined.

As he headed to the work camps on the edge of the Pit he saw why. 

Clean, secure prefab housing, free meals for all workers, and daily pay.  It was a better life than most of the workers could’ve dreamed of a year ago, Clone patrols meant there was no threat of gangers or random violence as the under levels were known for, and stuck onto the sides of the barracks were posters of the Emperors grandfatherly smile beaming down – a few had been defaced, but nowhere near as many as might be expected.

And none of the posters of Princess Mira had been touched except to be stolen and put up inside the bunk rooms by the more fanatical devotees. Her serene feminie look and the tag line “The Empire is Not Perfect – So Let’s Make it Better Together,” inspired sentients who had been pulled above the poverty line by work programs like this one.

Lining up for the evening meal he listened to the banter, the food wasn’t brilliant, but it was nutritious and free, all you can eat tubs of vat grown algal nutrients bubbled away, a few Clones watching over – it didn’t matter how much you took really, and because of that the once starving homeless seemed to have settled into taking only what they needed of their own accord.

“Ay’ Kol over ‘ere!” called the bubbly Herdin, whose species Chillum couldn’t pick, though the odd head features suggested Twi’lek ancestry at some point. 
‘Kol’ as his cover name was sat amidst the small group he had befriended.
“’ad a good day!”
“More o’ less,” Chillum replied adopting a mangled accent,
“Ay Good ‘t ‘ere, See ‘ere Fendo tell Kol ya news!”
Fendo an aqua coloured Rodian burst out in strangled huttese
<I’ve been accepted into an Engineering apprenticeship,>
“Congrats Fendo,” Chillum meant it, the taciturn Rodian deserved  leg up, he had become fond of the Aurek Pit 5 crew, even if this was a mission, he had genuine sympathy to these once impoverished sentients – but no he had to steel himself against such feelings – that was how this Empire worked to control people –yes it did raise up the poor, support families and improve economic and social outcomes- but that was their path to securing power – they did the right things for the wrong reasons.

“You See We make the Empire Better together!” boomed the Crolute Pugo beside them parroting Mira’s propaganda

“So the perky tit Princess says,” Nebun the Dug noted across the table

Pugo leapt up slamming his fists on the table “What You Say ‘bout the Princess!” he boomed 

‘Kol’ got up to pull him down

“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it Pugo, Nebun can’t finish a sentence without noting someone’s tit’s or dongle, or vugu,”

Pugo slowly sat back down “No one insults the Princess, not no one,” this was the fanaticism that had confirmed Chillum’s suspicions. 

Pugo had been a thug, typical goon involved in standover tactics in the under levels to support his ill Gilliand partner during the Clone wars.  Now he had a legitimate job, and more importantly Princess Mira’s Family Support Act with its free health care and three years paid maternity leave for female sentients had meant his partner now got the medicine she needed for free – a good policy to be sure, but it made an increasing number of the beneficiaries like Pugo blindly loyal to the new regime.

Kol settled back into the nightly banter over their free dinners…right things, wrong reasons.


There was no point in keeping the meeting secret, workers were free to mingle and come and go as they pleased after all, so they met in his apprentices barracks on the southern edge.

Ka’ah’re’Mack, or Karmack, had done a good job fitting in with the crews, kept a low profile and done his master proud.

“So what have you found?” Chillum hoped on the empty bed across from Karmack

“The Obroa-Skai teams uncovered something toward the centre of the excavations,” he leaned forward with an intent expression

“Called in the Praetorian straight after and the Clones cleared out the workers from that grid, ‘sensitive relics’ they said, I managed to get close to the barrier bringing down a column, and found this,”

He pulled out a small folded cloth, within a sparking ling green crystal –Kyber by the looks,

“The Spire…they’ve found it,” Chillum noted

“Then we don’t have much time,” Karmack replied, “We should go tonight, I can swap shifts with some guys on Isk shift easily to get us in,”

“Clam boy, think this through…they just found it, they’ll be extra attentive for the next few shifts at least,”

“But if we wait it might all be gone!” his apprentice protested “We can’t let those monsters get into the Spire!  They’ve already torn the Temple down, dozens of shrines, they can’t have that too!”

He still had all the energy and righteous fury of youth Chillum noted…right intent but wrong reason, the Praetorians were certainly not the benevolent guardians they claimed to be, but to write them off as monsters was to be just a myopic as Pugo was fanatic.  There was more to them than anyone knew.

“And what would you do boy if they stopped you?  You going to take on a Praetorian alone?”

Chillum was under no illusions that eventually a Mak’tor would end up on the wrong side of a Praetorians blade – but before that happened they needed to learn lots more about them to stand a chance – the rumours and scattered rough shot footage from Operation Clean Up couldn’t all be genuine, but even so it was terrifying enough to give the Council of Balance a lot of food for thought, and though they wanted to recover what they could before the ancient mount and Jedi Temple was demolished, their instructions were clear – no risking an engagement.

Karmack looked down deflated

“Son it’s easy to get into a fight when you have right on your side – but it’s a lot harder to get out of it again,”

Laying a hand on his shoulder he sympathized with the young man, the galaxy was changing fast - too fast - it was easy to get caught in the current and swept away.

“So let’s come up with a plan,”


Karmack bristled at the Announcement at the start of the shift

“The Time is Now 10:00 Shifts Forn, Grek and Herf Have now begun, Gloria in Excelsis Imperator!”

“Gloria in Excelsis Imperator!” the call came back for nearly three quarters of the team he was in – didn’t they realise, - couldn’t they see how they were being manipulated – or did they see nothing past having full bellies and a few credits in their pocket.

He shuffled along to the next area for demolition, setting about with the grinder tearing down what was once a cloister of a monastery or abbey.  All this destruction just made him angrier, the Empire was obliterating the history of the Jedi, the Gray orders and the lost Kings of the Mount before that.

“This one next,” called the high pitched strange accent of the Forewoman pointing to the nave while a Rodian proudly stood beside her and two other engineers plotting out the demolition.  Karm hummed a quick sensory expansion tune to pick up her voice over the constant clank and drill of the past being swept away.

“…then the main pillars, it is of no value, but pay careful attention to the main altar, they sometimes buried trinkets beneath it that might be of value, Fendo I leave you in charge of this,” she noted before wandering off, he Rodian looked a head taller brushing stray dirt off the small pin that showed he was a trainee engineer now. 

Karmack sneered, that Rodian had been one of the loudest voices proclaiming Glory to the Emperor in the Highest in his wheezy voice.

“Yeess Goob, Ebryone bet us wbork Harb to cleab ib out Veeerrr Safeee!” he squeaked adopting attempted basic instead of Huttese before setting about with his surveying device to scan the nave columns.

Karm kept trudging through hauling up old pieces of pavement onto the anti-grav skips that were pushed about by other workers- they could easily automate it all, but were so intent on winning people over they had them doing menial tasks. 

He hauled the last piece that would fit in with a crack and spray of old dust that smelt of moss and dirt.

“Thanking You!” said the excited Gotal who thought himself a King pushing the cart of rubbish around. 

Loons, absolute loons Karmack once more snidely thought.  These weren’t really jobs they were patronizing handouts, he’d heard on M’Tzigon it was happening everywhere too, people dislocated after Operation Clean Up - more like Kill Up – were gathered into work teams and sent to battlefields and war scarred cities across the galaxy to clean up after the Clone War. 

It was sick, they were using war reconstruction projects to create armies of fanatics, and being thanked for it!

As the anger rose Karmack belatedly tried to calm himself with a steadying flow of energy – balance he needed to find balance amidst the tumult.

Sometime as he worked he would imagine scenes in his head, himself clothed in gray songsteel armour facing down armies of Praetorians, the one who could bring peace and justice to the galaxy…Chillum would always tut at his ‘youthful fantasies’…easy for him…Karmack had been ‘too young’ to be involved in the Mak’Tor actions in the Clone wars in any real way, he felt if only they gave him the opportunity he could’ve shown them….he knew, just knew he had so much potential….

Over the next hour he tore down the once proudly fashioned cloister, filling the Gotals rubbish cart three times.  Slowly he was working toward the new dig zone, half a dozen Clones standing silent guard about it.  A small group of Archaeologists along with the forewoman approached, followed by two Praetorians.

Damn they’d left it too long, Karmack knew this would happen, Chillum was being too cautious!

“Ah Mi’ke! Lobs of goob work Mi’ke!” Fendo surprised him

“Huh, ah yes, Glory to the Emperor!” Karmack replied in a flurry
“Yeb Much em Glory! Shift is nearly done, yob can pab up,” The Rodain gave him a pat on the back –

Thinking fast Karmack took his chance, turning into hug the stunned Rodian

“Gloria in Excelsis Imperator!!” Karmack cried as the Rodian struggled against his enthusiastic embrace – just to add to the disturbing ambience Karmack quickly pecked him on his leathery cheek with a kiss.

“Gloria in Excelsis Imperator…” Fendo replied before nearly tripping as he backed away quickly.

Karmack gave him a huge smile and provocative wink to add to the troubling scene, in Karm’s left hand the Rodians Engineer Ident Badge – and the zone access that came with it.


Across the ruined monastery Chillum heard the call

“The Time is Now 10:00 Shifts Forn, Grek and Herf Have now finished, Gloria in Excelsis Imperator!”

“Gloria in Excelsis Imperator!” he called out amidst the row of workers who had spent the entire 5 hour shift discussing how wonderful the Princess’ new proposals to the Senate for universal life insurance were – the proposal would insure every citizen of the Empire in effect with a payout to their families on their death.  For the poor he worked amongst this could really take the sting out of the loss of a bread winner, a wonderful idea Chillum had to admit…but once more it was the right thing for a very wrong reason.

He looked across the workers who were packing up under the watchful gaze of the Occupational Health and Safety Reps in bright yellow vests, ensuring all equipment was safely stored and checked.

Yet he couldn’t see Karmack amongst them,
“Where is that boy…” he expanded his senses and met…
Nothing…a moving nothing

Six clones were escorting a mobile device down the rock cut ramp toward where they thought the Spire was – and whatever was on that grav sled was creating a dead zone in the force. He looked across to the spire area where a young man was edging toward the laser wire section barrier.

“Stubborn Mack!”

Of course they were doing it at change of shift, what better way to hide their plans.

The Next shift wandered in, as he crossed the thin surveying laser that separated the dig zones. 

With Fendo’s pass it chimed a briefly affirmative signal and he was in. 

Approaching from behind he mingled at the back of a small group of engineers as they waited on the Clones brining down a number of grav sleds, some empty some with strange devices on them.

“Arrange them around the entrance, begin propping the shaft.”  Just another one of the engineers Karmack kept his head low and worked studiously along with the others setting supports on an entrance way. 

It was tiring work after a full shift already, he started a healing…
…
There was no Song…
The Force was…
Gone
What sick twisted game were they playing, supressing the energy of the Spire – no doubt to make it safe to plunder and demolish it.

“You all right?,”
Karmack nearly jumped out his skin as a hand was placed on his weary back by a concerned looking Phindian.

“Fine…yeah fine…just…long shift,” he paused looking around and thinking fast
“Hey do you mind taking this beam, my backs gonna give out, I’m happy to take those cases instead,

“Yeah sure,” the worker replied eager to help,

“Just take them one by one inside,” he pointed a gangly digit toward the entrance covered by clone troopers,

Hefting up one case Karmack smiled and headed straight toward the entrance way, old pottery sharp underfoot, confidently he strode toward the small group of clones, noting the intricate carving around the entrance to the shaft they had opened was covered in old runes that looked familiar, he had seen them before in his studies of Mak’Tor history but wasn’t proficient enough to read them.

His heart beat harder as he got closer…just behind those white armoured goons could be a store of valuable Mak’tor relics, tomes, manuscripts, lightsbares…and he could be the one to secure them from the hands of this twisted Empire.

He swallowed dry as he got closer Maker don’t let them stop me…

One of the Clones adjusted his rifle strap, another tapped his helmet…everything seemed to be in slow motion as he approached – Karmack could feel the breath held in chest itching to escape and reveal him.

The Clone with a red streak on his helmet looked him over, noted the case, then stepped aside

“Head on through, take the first right follow the red guide lights,”

Still holding it all in Karmack stepped forward into the dusty tunnel, turned right.  Then near fainted as he let his breath out.

He was in.

He got as close as he could, mingling among the coming and going workers, but without a pass he couldn’t get into the more restricted zone…

Stubborn Mack how’d he get a pass….

Chillum’s finger twitched under his baggy work clothes, the sabre concealed within as he considered just how much of a lecture to give the boy…his heart was in the right place but he was just too rash about it.

But he could worry about the dressing down later, for now he just hoped Karmack kept a low profile and didn’t try anything…

The wrongness was overwhelming.

This cave…those crystals should be alive with light and song he knew…yet under the suppressive devices of the Praetorians they were dead and quiet, the plinth in the centre heavy and unmoving.

Karmack tentatively followed the three other workers placing their cases to the side, noting one Praetorian standing beside an unusually black object on a grav sled, and a young woman jotting notes on  data pad with one hand a strange orb in her other hand.

But his eyes were drawn to the central plinth…something was…beneath the stone…calling to him…

Even though the Force seemed absent here…there was something deeper…older than the stars that cared not for the petty tools of this Empire which was mere dust on it age.

He stepped forward hardly knowing what he was doing

…….Ka….

The word was in his ears…not behind his eyes somewhere

Kar….

Kadyn noted the odd human worker walking toward the spire…and felt movement in the aether….

Movement that shouldn’t be there. 

They had set up Null Pillars to supress the power of the Spire’s Crystals while it was moved in accordance with Warmaster Valens instructions – the Legendary Elder Guardian had been here centuries before, destabilising the planets Aetheric flow as part of a long term plan to create a so called ‘dark side’ taint to limit the Jedi’s powers and perceptions, one the real Palpatine had unwittingly benefited from.

Karmack…

He was almost an arms length from the pitted ancient stone, strange symbols not there before glowed along its length.

Karmack…we choose you to restore the balance…

The words were not an offer, not a request, but an inevitability etched into his very destiny.

Even as Kadyn stepped toward the teenage human male the front of the Spire began to lift, Jisaea collected data on her orb turned as well,

There were three hollows in the monolith that was revealed, only two were filled, the missing one absent the so called Light Crystal Valens had destroyed centuries ago…the remaining two were known in Mak’tor Prophecy as the Dark and the Gray – a trinity of so called balance.

Despite the null fields the crystals still glowed, cracks in the Null pillars formed - their suppressive power in adequate against the build-up.

Karmack had never seen such beautiful crystals…the Red and orange pulsing…and more than that he had been chosen to save the Shrine, to bring Balance to the Force, and yes surely that must mean to destroy this False Empire and it’s horrific Praetorians he convinced himself oblivious to the Dark side energy of the Red crystal that had no balance in Light.

“Get away from….” Kadyn’s words ended as a blinding flash slammed him back, the entire cavern rumbling. His Mark 7 Blackstone Armour more than able to compensate for the buffeting into the dull clusters of crystals in the wall that shattered on his overly heavy impact. 

The Crystals left the Monolith as the Null pillars shattered and Jisaea squeezed her panic ring with her mind to alert the others.


The entire excavation site began to rumble, sections fell into sink holes in the near twenty kilometre wide pit to his left taking workers with it in screaming horror.

Dust plumed in towers as tall as the skyscrapers around the former temple precinct, LAATs overhead wove and dodged…

Yet this was all secondary to the explosion…no…Release of Force energy Chillum sensed from the cavern Karmack had entered.

There was no time to think, he had to move, as the Clones rushed inside he leapt the laser fence, the red alerts shrill tone lost to the crack of rock and shattering scaffolds as he lit his sabre.


The Crystals hovered above his hand, filling him with power, in that instant he felt he could lift the very galaxy with one finger.

Kadyn quickly recovered, the signal already sent more forces would arrive soon, the teenage boy was staring at the crystals, the imbalanced emotional content of the ‘Dark Crystal’ feeding into his youthful fantasies of glory and conquest…the boy was barely twenty, only human, too young to understand the forces he was dealing with….

Kadyn had to end this swiftly.

Like oblivion lightning he struck forward in a smooth motion pulling hi Blackstone sword in a graceful arc that slammed into an invisible barrier about the boy.

Suddenly aware of the threat Karmack looked up and grabbed the crystals in one hand his sabre in the other.

With a heated anger at all the Praetorians and their so called Benevolent Empire stood for he pushed with the Force at the warrior who was bouncing back from the deflection.

Another kinetic blast slammed Kadyn across the cavern, the aetheric power too strong for his own kinetic shield or Blackstone armour to absorb – only those crystals could give the human such power.

Jisaea understood just as well, shikkar daggers spinning from hidden pockets in her trousers, lighting from her finger tips that arced harmlessly off the instinctual power the Crystals offered Karmack.

Noticing the woman he turned on her – the face so similar to the detested Princess Mira, the sweet voiced bitch manipulating and twisting people to her will…

In the righteous red haze of youthful fury Karmack imagined it was the Princess and the Empire with it he was killing.


Blue blaster fire shattered against his blade as he swept through the Clones – in the panic they had reverted to shoot on site leaving Chillum no choice. 

In a swift pirouette he moved though the three of them severing limbs and head with his sabre, knowing full well the implications, yet he had to get to the Spire, to his apprentice before….

As he rounded the corner breath already ragged from the throat choking dust the cave in’s had yielded he saw he was too late.

Karmack stood over bleeding young woman on her knees, cruelty on his face as if every check and balance on his rage had been broken, his sabre swinging down to her neck, the yellow encased by glowing furious red from something he held in his off hand.

He didn’t just cut into her throat which resisted with unusual strength against the energy blade – but her mind – in the fluid waves of the pulsing dying song he heard the voice, the intent, the TRUTH.

The Praetorians were not human, not even meta human – something…better yet terrifyingly worse – and they would hold every thread as the galaxy burnt in war seeming without end, a wildfire blazing white with heat around the core, yellow and wicked down the galactic arms. 

But no fire lasts forever, soon the fuel – the bodies of every race Karmack had ever scene and some he not, were spent, the inferno turned them to cinders.

Then Silence

Quiet

A galaxy turned dark except for a small flickering light in the centre where the Daemons returned from whence they came to a life of peace and plenty, at last feeling safe behind an adamantium wall of defences around the galaxy.  Their peaceful perfect lives bought at the price of the genocide of Every. Other Species.

And they didn’t care – they just didn’t care – he stood upon the mountain overlooking half a dozen valleys of small farms between rich forest, laughter and joy, peace and plenty, the Outsiders a myth relegated to stories to entertain. No guilt, no sense of remorse, just joy.

It was a heaven for a pagan tribe, it just waited for the galaxy to eat itself in war first – it had almost done so in the Clone Wars, but more was needed – and they were more than happy to guide it.

His fury rose to new heights…then he saw the quivering frightened woman’s face
I did that…

The impulse so deep in him to kill, to harm died and was refilled with regret.

He fell down to his knees as the body before him dropped absent a head.

He would more than Die….

Kadyn would kill him yes, take those crystals that had given him power to kill a real Person off him…but then…

They would resurrect him…and kill him again…and again…and again….until every star in the universe died – such was the punishment for harming a Female.

His muscles tensed and ready as a heady mix of combat hormones flooded his system, switching off emotion and pain sensation and enhancing cognitive speed, perception and physical strength and speed by half, he rushed forward blade craning toward the weak human skull.

Chillum’s blade sparked in defiance against the blow as the fractures in the rock ceiling grew larger and larger.

A swift punch Chillum barely dodged slammed into a falling piece of the mountain shattering it with explosive force.

“RUN!” he yelled to his apprentice, no time to counsel him or ask what had happened.

Karmack’s glazed eyes suddenly registered…Chillum’s blade was flashing white, spinning in defensive circles against a living shadow that would inevitably win.

Chillum could not hold the Praetorian long, already his arms were pained, legs sore, the weight of each blow was like a slab of ferrocrete, the Force, the Song was hammering through him at an inevitably fatal level just to keep up.

On jelly legs Karmack stood up, pained eyes looking to his master.

Run Son… the soundless words overtaken by the shattering of the roofs collapse as a tsunami of rock and rubble crashed between them.

Karmack ran.


All is dust

Some descriptive words in an old psalm he had never really paid attention to before.

From dust are all things forged…to dust returned

He felt that dust now, choking up his mouth.  If there was one consolation it was that somehow Chillum had survived the cave in…

It was black though…he couldn’t see a thing, only feel the scratching dust all over…yet it felt…wrong…

You’re alert…good…now you can tell me where yor accomplice is
The words were not quite words, more like thoughts dripped into his head…he tried to speak but the dust was chocking him.
ccch…ccckk
“How long?”
“Perhaps a day or two, the stimulants should speed adaptation to the new environment”
Chillum could not hear them, could not see…for he hd nothing left to hear or see with.
Kadyn stood before the bubbling amnio-tube that contained the remains of the would be assassin.
The cave in had crushed them both, but Blackstone armour a kinetic shield and most of all Aethan physiology meant Kadyn had been dug out with only superficial wounds.

The human with only a dirty workman’s overalls for protection had fared less well.  The flagging shred of meat that comprised his body had been rapidly stabilised, the dead tissues beyond repair removed until only a half head brain and three quarters of a spine were encased into the amnio-tube then jump started back to life with a Shatterpoint healing burst. 

Whatever sensation the human body had last felt were now locked into its somatosensory cortex…most likely the crushing grip and choking dust of the collapse. They kept him ‘alive’, but not out of mercy…only intelligence – the right thing Chillum might say, for the wrong reason.

Speak human… Kadyn went on, his words translated to electrical impulses into the brains hearing centres
…tell me everything…


Ragged, dirty and stinking he let the equally unkempt crowd move him onto the ship.

Everything after the collapse of the spire was a blur of running, hiding, panting for breath, sipping foetid stagnant water where he could, trying to think of a way off world…

He needed to get home to get…

You are chosen, you will bring balance…

The words no longer held the same glorious ring, they repeated painfully over and over a sting behind his eyes, an itch he could not scratch….

If Master Chillum were here he would tell Karmack this was what happens when you rush in.

Gulping down sweat drenched air he pushed into the overcrowded passenger compartment – standing room only for the four hour flight.

The sooner he got off world the better, the Council would help, would know what to do…and…

You must find the Crystal of light

..Maker hopefully rid him of this incessant demand in his head.

He felt the shudder of lift off through the press of the crowd…even if he couldn’t reach M’Tzigon at least he could get to a Healing Centre….they would help him…they had to he was an apprentice who had just lost his master – finding other knights to help was the right thing to do…

So why did the reasons feel wrong?

...Poor Chillum.  Really makes me think of a "fate worse than death."  Especially as he'll be used by those who will stop at nothing to root out and eradicate ANY person who is a direct threat of the Benevolent Empire.  I guess I should also say "poor Karm" as well...

I really like this setting; there really is just SO much potential as far as the Mirror Universe is concerned.  But just how is Karm supposed to fight against a galaxy under the thrall of Princess Mira...and her Praetorians...and...Others...  ;)

Can't wait to see where Karm heads next  ;)

Nice...

The thread of Karmack restoring the balance of the Spire ... or more accurately the crystals that were placed there so long ago ... is a nice continuity thread.   With the two crystals recovered, the Dark and the Gray, plus the influence of the Ancient One, he will find himself driven in ways he cannot even imagine.

And having killed a female, the Aethans will stop at NOTHING to hunt him down.

And Chillum is the first clue to find him.   And he's one of the senior Knights.   What he knows will lead them to M'Tzigon and the Temple and the treasure hidden there...

Thanks I was going for some continuity but with a twist, instead of being mature with the Light crystal, Karm is immature, lost his master and with the Dark one (and Gray but you know that's still overall more dark than light in his hands), so a way to see a very different side of his character.

Exactly.   This would be before he had to make that very critical choice that shaped his light vs dark views as a young man.   With this change he could become VERY different.   Especially if you add in that dark, stubborn MACK streak...   :-)

Oh!  Oh!  I can almost picture it...Karmack as...

A DARK SINGER!!!

OMG, now I REALLY want for LSG to continue with this characterization  :)

Karmack as a dark singer....

I wonder how the entities inside the AO will react to that...   Oh my....