Insanity is relative

Across the galaxy, the remaining highest-ranking members of the Empire were contacted for an important meeting. This particular selection of individuals was known as the Council of Moffs, who had served as the military and political heads of the Empire since the Battle of Endor. One by one, their holograms appeared, and the council promptly began its session. The Council of Moffs looked at each other with concerned faces as they moved to the topic of the day, the Galactic South. A report had been presented that Admiral Tanya Degurechaff had single-handedly crushed a traitor who had attempted to seize control over a large number of planets following the death of the Emperor. A look of contemplation was shared among them; this was good news indeed, but it was also bad news. There was no one with more power than Tanya Degurechaff in the Galactic South. She held all the cards of influence in the area, meaning she could potentially become its de facto dictator.

"Degurechaff should've died once we sent her to the Galactic South! But this report exists to the contrary. What should we do? It would be catastrophic if she were to gain any more influence and power than she already had!" One of the Moffs present asked. Left unsaid was just who it would be catastrophic for. He glared at the rest of the table's occupantants before turning to one Moff holding a datapad. Bertroff Hissa began to read it off. He was personally unaware of Tanya Degurechaff's career, though it seemed her name was quite infamous.

"Admiral Tanya Degurechaff, formerly the captain of the Perseverance. She served for many years as a member of Lord Vader's fleet, and of those who served him, she held the record for the longest surviving officer in his service."

As he read Degurechaff's profile aloud, everyone stopped talking, and they looked at him, for he was essentially their de facto leader. They sat on the edge of their seats and analyzed his every word. Ever since the formation of the Empire, the Moffs had always been a den of hyenas, scrounging for as much prestige and power they could get, even betraying each other whenever it was seen as worth it. However, at this moment, an ember lit itself in the hearts of these vultures, a collective hatred and envy of one Admiral Tanya Degurechaff. They quietly seethed as Degurechaff's accomplishments were read out. What they heard was everything the Moffs wanted and more, what was out of reach for them no matter how much blood they spilt. In that very moment, the Moffs began to see her as a rival, an enemy.

"What's this here?" Hissa read with amusement. "'Unconfirmed rumors of being Lord Vader's concubine.' Quite the track record." he said with a chuckle, showing off sharp teeth that belied his alien heritage. Hissa himself was one of the few non-humans who held a great amount of power in the Empire.

"She was in favor of the rights of non-humans and considered what she termed as 'institutional racism' to be economically inefficient. She proposed a galactic conscription plan; which envisaged having a total of over 10 trillion servicemen. She argued for centralization and nationalization of all off-planet industries, and for said industries to be organized before finally being privatized. She has also called for the reintroduction of Clone War era technologies into the Imperial Army and Navy..." She's quite the character, no doubt about it, Hissa thought to himself, feeling a certain sympathy for Degurechaff's political views. He began reading through her military career in detail.

"She is credited with more than 83 naval victories, of which 51 were in numerical inferiority? As well as 35 land victories!?" He exclaimed with a hint of shock in his voice. It was at that moment that all the Moffs nodded in agreement. They were eyeing each other, trying to find ways to advance their careers in the Empire. They didn't like Degurechaff, but when a hungry pack of hyenas are given a piece of meat, they'll rip into it. The same can be said when it comes to the Imperial Moffs whenever an opportunity comes up. The silence in the room broke.

"Lord Vader's favorite war dog…" said one of the Moffs. "If you read more carefully, in some military campaigns, Admiral Degurechaff made use of many authoritarian strategies that would certainly have been favored by the Emperor and Lord Vader. One example would be when she quelled the Wookie rebellion. First, she started burning much of the planet, forcing the Wookies to surrender, then she went about crucifying their leaders, finally having her stormtroopers parade their crosses across the planet for the populace to see." Hissa nodded to the man before continuing to read.

"Extremely aggressive on the battlefield, a good resource manager, and known for her ruthlessness in dealing with traitors and rebels. Hmph, why didn't we promote her earlier?" Hissa asked. No one answered, making it clear to Hissa why. She was too competent to be promoted without drawing the attention of the Moffs, which would have jeopardized her position. Vader and the Emperor likely felt that as a result, the best position for her was captain. It was not an unreasonable course of action. Paranoia was etched deep into the Imperial identity. Those who did too well were often killed or gently guided to their destruction. In rare cases, like Degurechaff's, where someone had protection from Lord Vader himself, the majority of the military would keep that person at arm's length and wait for them to mess up, hoping to pounce once they did and reap the rewards of their failure. That was how the Empire had worked in the past, but it couldn't work like that now. Hissa had an Empire to save. If he didn't act now, the Galactic Empire would end up like all other Empires in history; torn apart from the inside. Hissa began to speak.

"We have sent Tanya Degurechaff to die in the Galactic South, but in the first week of her deployment, she completely defeats a warlord controlling over a hundred planets. We lack competent individuals and this admiral clearly is one, therefore I believe we need to re-evaluate our priorities for the moment." The Moffs threw looks at each other, a silent battle of wills taking place in that moment. Everyone of them had their own goals, but only the most cunning would get what they wanted.

One of the Moffs, Moff Yyron, stood to speak. He knew the danger Degurechaff presented to the current regime if she were to keep gaining power unchecked, but he could also see the dangers of killing her off this early in the game. The Galactic South was still a wildcard in the grand scheme of things. It would be disastrous to the Empire if it were to escape from its grasp so soon. They needed to keep Degurechaff alive, but not at the cost of his political influence. He would be walking on ice. One wrong word in the speech he would make could end his career.

"If it is the opinion of this council to abandon her for whatever reason, then so be it, but I believe the Empire could gain much from this situation by giving her the means to defend herself out there. It would at least slow Imperial decline in the sector before she inevitably meets her end. Resources are scarce after the Battle of Endor, and we shouldn't be throwing away a tool until we know for a fact that it no longer serves any purpose. From all the reports presented, it is clear she holds strong loyalty to the Empire, perhaps even greater than some of us. So I have a proposal. Promote Admiral Tanya Degurechaff to the position of Grand Moff as an emergency measure, whilst assigning her the territories she was ordered to protect and give her full control of the South's army, navy, and administration. None of you may like this course of action, but remember that Degurechaff sees herself as the pinnacle of Imperial resolve; a martyr of a stagnant bureaucracy. What better way to treat a would-be martyr than to throw her a sword to fall on? I ask you all to instead see her promotion as a means to an end, perhaps instead as fattening up the prey before the feast." Moff Yyron sat back down, strongly hoping his colleagues understood the logic in keeping Degurechaff alive for now.

The Moffs in the room looked around, trying to scan each other for any signs of discontent or disapproval, but none spoke against the plan. They knew the reality of the situation. Degurechaff had been sent to die and was expected to die. A promotion doesn't change that. Perhaps this promotion will even give her enough vigor to solve the Empire's problems before she meets her demise.

With silence permeating the room, Hissa stood to speak. "Let the record reflect that no dissent to Moff Yron's proposition was voiced. With no opposition, we ascend Admiral Tanya Degurechaff to the position of Grand Moff." Hissa banged his gavel on the table, finalizing the ruling. He let out a silent sigh of relief.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was drinking wine as I laid on the couch. In front of me the news appeared on a huge screen, on which a beautiful human woman reported the most recent events. Her voice was grave as she spoke.

"The Galactic Stock Market has fallen by 57%, as a result we can expect that there will be a decrease in living standards across the entire-"

I sighed and drank the glass empty. The situation was a repeat of the destruction of the First Death Star, after which the Galactic Stock Market plunged into the Maw, creating a disasterous economic crisis, and now a second crisis had appeared to make things even worse.

I tried distracting myself, drawing my attention to the news anchor's breasts to see if she piqued my interest, but alas, I felt no pleasure nor succumbed to any fantasy of stuffing my face in her rack. In my second life, I had learned that women, or at least one of them, still produced sexual interest in me, but in this life, no such pleasure was to be found.

"Damn it." I said, picking up the bottle again. I poured it out into my glass, before placing it back on the table. I took another sip of the wine.

"After all of my work, I find myself abandoned and surrounded by traitors, rebels, and filthy rats." I gripped the glass tightly as I saw the Imperial Ruling Council appear on screen. They were supposed to be the leaders of the Empire, but any words they uttered may as well have been hot air.

"Scum!" I shouted, throwing the glass at the screen. A shattering noise echoed around the room, the wine flowing down the screen and glass shards scattering everywhere, but my tirade wasn't done yet. I got up from the sofa, screaming my voice hoarse. "Fucking scum, all of them! I told them we shouldn't have attacked the rebel base on Hoth! We should've just nuked them till there was nothing left but snow and ashes! But no, we made a full frontal assault instead! Dumbasses!"

I spent years serving the Empire, and now… I had been abandoned. My rage was not irrational, nay, it was the most rational response anyone would make in this circumstance. I couldn't even force anyone to follow my orders because I didn't have the necessary rank. I was a slave to the rank system and the inept government of a declining Empire. I could save the Galactic South easily with enough resources. Even then, we would likely find ourselves losing, since I wasn't even given the ability to allocate any of those resources! I couldn't do anything. As long as I didn't have a high enough rank to bring my dumbass colleagues in line, all worried about their power plays and their wealth, I wouldn't be able to bring them to heel.

"They have no sense of self-preservation!" A few hours ago, I had a meeting with some of the scum I called comrades. Most of them scoffed and refused to cooperate with me, save for a few junior admirals who agreed to join me. The rest? They irrationally decided to ignore me. Fools, every last one of them! I heard the door open and saw Draneir enter the room with a datapad.

"Are you drunk again?" Draneir asked.

"What do you think?" I sarcastically questioned, gesturing towards the mess I had caused. Draneir sighed and began to read the datapad.

"At the latest meeting of the Council of Moffs, they have come to a clear consensus. With the need to protect the Galactic South; as well as the absence of any qualified authority, the Council has unanimously agreed to bestow upon you the rank of Grand Moff in light of your recent deeds, as well as your impressive military record."

"You're joking," I said disbelievingly, "what you're saying has to be impossible. You're telling me that the Moff Council, composed of some of the greatest scum the galaxy has ever seen, has at last, in its entire existence, made a good decision?" Draneir sighed, and raised the tablet for me.

"Read it yourself." I approached, staggering a little as I moved forward too quickly.

"Shit" I said, leaning against a wall, "The wine-"

"I'll get it," Draneir said, as he came over to put his shoulder under my arm, before setting me onto the couch safely. I nodded in thanks and quickly read over the tablet.

"Promoted to Grand Moff, for merit and exceptional deeds, Tanya Degurechaff will be given control of the planets outlined..."

"That's... a lot of territory." said Draneir, who had only read up to my promotion. However, most of the territory was either unusable for obvious reasons or in rebel control.

"I don't believe it," I exclaimed, feeling as though a light had appeared in the darkness, "I don't believe it at all! It looks like the Council finally came to their senses, Draneir!"

I stood, this time more carefully so I didn't fall again. "I've been overly pessimistic," I stated, "I've been worrying for no reason! They've been planning my promotion from the very beginning! They just wanted me to prove myself by dealing with the traitors, that's all!" Just as quickly as pessimism had come following the battle of Endor, optimism had returned. This promotion gave me all the hope I needed! The situation wasn't as helpless as I thought!

"Draneir, get everything ready, I'm going to take a shower and then we need to get to work, and collect all the mental stimulation drugs we have. We're going to need them!"

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leia and Luke stood beside each other, onboard the Millenium Falcon, watching the announcement that had come from Eriadu, the signal having been broadcast throughout the entire Galactic South.

"Attention Imperial citizens," greeted the holographic form of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed figure.

"I am Grand Moff Tanya Degurechaff. I have been assigned to oversee the Galactic South and to protect it from rebel scum, traitors, pirates, and anyone else who dares to take advantage of these trying times to commit acts of terror against the Empire and its citizens."

The figure was decked out in high-ranking Imperial uniform and regalia, and for that reason alone, she would likely gain the ire of many in the populace. No one feared the Empire like they used to, but even still, this particular figure still made the siblings uncertain. Leia stared coldly as Luke shifted uncomfortably, their eyes never leaving the hologram.

"I doubt she'll be as efficient at ruling as she is in battle, right?" Luke said aloud, attempting to lighten the mood. The figure, oblivious to what the galaxy thought of her, continued speaking, accompanying her words with hand motions and always looking straight ahead.

"In my duty to govern and protect my sector of Imperial space, I hereby order all planetary governments placed under my control to send a representative to the temporary sector capital of Eriadu. In addition, all privately owned companies operating on more than one planet must comply with this order as well. Whoever fails to carry out this order within a one-month duration shall be charged with treason against the Empire, and will be dealt with accordingly. For any unique circumstances, another month will be added for the arrival of said representative. In that case, please contact the Imperial Office of Eriadu." Degurechaff's statement was still ongoing, but Leia and Luke started to ignore it in favor of their own discussion.

"The Empire is trying to reorganize, and as a precaution they've given a psychopath control of an entire super-sector." This was Leia's conclusion. "She needs to be dealt with as soon as possible, but we don't have the military necessary to continue the offensive at this time." She was deep in thought for a moment, before giving Luke a calculating look. "Hey Luke, do you think you can…"

"Not yet," Luke replied before his sister went down that specific train of thought, "we need to reorganize. Besides, the last time I was on a planet with her, I ended up being the target of a nuclear missile."

"What? When did that happen?" she asked, "I don't remember anything about that."

"It happened while you were with Jabba," Luke said, standing up with a silly laugh, which ruined Leia's mood.

"Don't remind me." She recoiled at the memory of the fat slug.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A man who lived on the planet Enarc arrived home, the massive fields of crops seen through the window bringing him feelings of disgust. He had just been fired from the company that controlled those fields due to the crisis partially caused by the death of the Emperor. For the second time in less than five years, two major economic crises had hit the population.

The man opened the door to his house, hearing an unfamiliar woman's voice as he stepped inside. Looking into the living room, he saw that both his son and wife were watching the television, listening to a woman who looked to be the newest boss in a long line of bosses.

"New boss, same shit." The man declared wearily, sitting down in a chair, joining his family in watching the broadcast.

"The rebels are at the heart of the economic crisis that is hitting the common people. It is those scum, in their lawlessness and terrorism, that have brought about these terrible times-" The man grunted and his wife stood up to approach him while the broadcast continued talking in the background.

"How was work?" she asked. She began to give her husband a back rub.

"I was fired like everyone else, they're firing everybody! The only ones keeping their jobs are the ones who work for the military." The wife grumbled, then looked at her son, who had recently turned 16.

"Well, our son has been accepted into the army, so at least it's a relief that he won't get fired." The father sneered, who then waved his hand moodily, as if swatting a fly.

"Emperor, Moffs, rebels, Republic. What difference does it make if the economy goes to shit and nothing gets done?" The son took this moment to interject.

"But that's the fault of the rebels, their terrorist attacks are meant to destroy the galactic economy, that's what the rebels are after. Grand Moff Degurechaff will put everything right. I've been researching for any information about her on the forums, and she is rumored to have been the concubine of Lord Vader, and known as his War Dog." Silence filled the family home as the Grand Moff continued to speak.

"I know these are hard times for the average citizen, but hang in there, it will only be like this for a few months. Actions are already being taken to put your lives back on track. Don't let the terrorists scare you or give you the illusion that this is the Empire's fault. That's what the rebel scum want you to think. As long as you keep a logical mind and live rationally, all will be better than what it was before. We will make it through this. Long live the Empire!" With that final declaration, the broadcast cut off.

"You should look for work in the army. I hear they are expanding their ranks, and you can work in agricultural logistics. The Imperial Army has been expanding its manpower on the planet from 400,000 to around a million. This is your chance Dad, you should find a position before they're done recruiting!" Said the son. He was an Imperial patriot and a staunch supporter of the reformist branch of the Empire.

"If there is no other option, I suppose I will." said the aging man. He had already worked for a long time, but the lack of a pension or any official state service forced him to work until the day he died, something that would not allow him at any time to rest. "I will go to the office tomorrow." The wife nodded, approaching her husband and kissing him.

"Very well dear, but before we do that we must go shopping. Food prices have been going through the roof and we have to buy a lot to prepare for when the next crisis will hit. Things are going to get a lot worse before they get better." Both the man and the son nodded. They knew the cold truth. Another crisis was dawning. Life these days was just a never ending cycle of crises.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draneir read through Tanya's packet of measures, which she had spent hours writing without a break whilst ordering the admirals and generals to reorganize the navy and army branches in the South.

"Prohibition of slavery, compulsory conscription for all intelligent species once they reach physical maturity, nationalization of all private companies operating on multiple planets, population census, planet census..."

Draneir ran his hand over his face in frustration. Seeing Tanya's anger and sadness when she thought the Empire had abandoned her had hurt him, but seeing these reforms made him doubt that it was better to let Tanya sink further into alcoholism and depression.

"No one will support this package," he muttered, "The Imperial elites would never respond positively to this, and the aliens hate us. These measures would only alleviate a fraction of that hatred, but not much." Draneir considered what to do with the package of measures.

"Let's see if we can't make this more acceptable." He began editing out Tanya's more extreme proposals. Draneir had always supported her ever since she had saved him at Endor, and no matter what happened, that would not change.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draneir approached Tanya, who was freshly risen and currently drinking caf. Today they hoped to begin a thorough reorganization of the Imperial Army and Navy they were in command of, and there were still many days to go before the representatives arrived. They both worked to organize everything as quickly as possible.

"Tanya, I wanted to tell you something," said Draneir.

"Have the rebels surrendered yet?" Tanya asked jokingly, with Draneir laughing in response, then putting the tablet he had down in front of her.

"Not yet, but I have made some modifications to your proposals. You should read them before you begin the military reorganization." Tanya nodded, picking up the tablet and beginning to read it. Her face showed distaste in some moments and understanding in others.

"We still have time to iron out most of the points, this was of course only a rough draft, but eliminating slavery is non-negotiable. Not only is it inefficient economically speaking, but it also makes the rebels right. We cannot afford to have the rebels appear to trump us in morality." Draneir frowned, sitting down at the table whilst Tanya sipped more of her caf.

"More than half the planets we control base their economies on slavery. If we were to ban slavery right now, even if we underwent a well-organized abolition process, the local economies would be destroyed."

"Let them be destroyed then," Tanya replied coldly, "what else about the economy should I care about? Look at the galactic situation Draneir, all economies are failing. It is now or never. If ever there was a time in the history of the galaxy that we could afford to ban slavery, it would be now; during a time of crisis where we can forge a new system from the ground up." This was to be expected from her, Draneir supposed. Many Imperials considered Tanya an idealist, and was known as a reformist amongst Imperial political circles.

"Most of them will oppose us." He knew the Imperial mindset. Many may have been willing to reform the system given the current circumstances, but abolishing it would be unthinkable to them.

"And you think I don't know that?" Tanya said rhetorically, a calculating grin on her face. "I would rather do the right thing than be like the rest of those corrupt scum. I believe that the overarching system we call the Empire works and can have a future, but for such a thing to happen, it must have people who truly believe in the system and the future it can create. Now that I have the power necessary to do so, I will do everything I can, attempt the impossible if that's what it takes, to make a strong and rational system that works for everyone." Draneir looked at the tablet containing the modified measures made to be acceptable to more moderate Imperials, then looked up at Tanya's beautiful machiavellian smile.

"Many will want to kill you," he warned. Tanya laughed confidently in response.

"Let them try. They will end up like the Tarkin family. I have long been a slave to the whims of my superiors, but that is no longer the case. Now, the only authority I must heed is my own." Draneir paused in thought, before the realization of what she meant struck him.

"Breaking away from our superiors; isn't that treason?"

"Treason against who? Who have I betrayed?" Tanya questioned, opening her arms wide. "The Empire as we knew it is no more. What we call the Empire is just militant cells holding onto its identity. We are no different from the rebels' organizational structure pre-Yavin. The Empire died at Endor because the Empire had no legitimate successor. The Council of Moffs consists of nothing but power-hungry fools who just so happened to have made a right decision for once, but I suppose even a broken clock is right twice a day. Me, betray the Empire? I fought for the Empire. Dare I say, I am the only one who fights for the Empire. While the rest fight for themselves, it is I alone who sacrifices myself for the greater good. I am perhaps the only high-ranking Imperial who works against my self-interest to improve the lives of all of those who call the Empire home. So, to answer your question, I never betrayed the Empire. In fact, I am all that is left of the Empire. Therefore, I am the Empire." Draneir was caught between two conflicting emotions. All he could do was stand there in contemplation. After a long silence, in which he consulted his heart, he found his answer.

"You're right. You never betrayed the Empire, it was the Empire who betrayed you. The Empire lost its way." Draneir got riled up and joined Tanya in the ranting. "Fuck the elites, fuck the bureaucrats, and fuck anyone else who profited off of the backs of the less fortunate. We can make a better Empire. You're right, there is no successor to the old. They are just scum fighting to fill their wallets and satisfy their egos!" Draneir, fully won over by Tanya's words, abandoned the moderate stance he held and killed any sympathy there was for the Imperial elite. He went all in on Tanya, the person he loved the most and was most loyal to. Draneir's entire being knew that at that moment, Tanya Degurechaff stood on the right side of history.

"Draneir, together we must forge a new Empire, a new way forward for the galaxy. Ours will be an Empire worthy of praise, an Empire worthy of remembering. Our Empire shall be the greatest this galaxy has ever known; for we do not sacrifice ourselves for our personal interest, but for the good of the galaxy. We remain resolute, and we will do whatever it takes. Victory or death!"