Emperor's Game

The Moff Council gathered around the table. Most were present as holograms while a few were physically present. Things had begun to stabilise in these past few months, thanks to Grand Moff Degurechaff's offensive against the New Republic. She had diverted much of the New Republic's attention from the true Empire towards her. Additionally, the Moffs' plan to exile all reformers, both civilian and military, to the Galactic South have prove effective, as it was only a matter of time before it succumbed to the New Republic.

Or so everyone had thought, however in the week following the battle of Sullust, several founding planets of the New Republic were found under siege by the Grand Moff, who upon conquering them, executed their leaders and imprisoned their most vocal supporters.

Degurechaff's brute effectiveness was incredible. The Moffs present despised this fact, as they did not expect her to be able to overcome the situation, which ruined their plans for the Core.

Their decision to expel all reformers to the south of the galaxy had been noted as the right decision, a consolidation of power without the need for a purge. However, as light attracts insects, Tanya Degurechaff had gradually brought most of the known Imperial reformers closer to her, although they did not know if they had ever come into contact with her. They were aware that at least 60% of known reformers were in Eriadu. Which wasn't how they planned it, after all, they had intentionally scattered them all around the Galactic South.

"When you play the Emperor's Game, there are only three choices, win, die or be humiliated," declared the only Moff with the capacity to be the leader of the Council of Moffs, Bertroff Hissa. At the same time, he was leader of the Inner Moff Council composed of 9 members. "And during this war our political rivals have not only reorganised in Eriadu, but have won vast victories against the New Republic. According to Yssane Isard's estimates, if this modus operandi continues the New Republic could be declared extinct in three months."

The Moffs seemed hesitant, worried even. Their chosen military tactic had been to entrench themselves in key systems, consolidating resources within heavily-fortified loyalist systems whilst ignoring all other systems. However, Degurechaff, unlike the Council of Moffs, had decided to go on the full offensive, and the worst thing was that it was working.

Many questions were being raised within the Regent Council and the Council of Moffs, yet there were few answers as to how this could be happening.

"We must take Degurechaff's victory and make it our own," one Moff concluded. "The danger of her becoming a reformist symbol in the Empire and attempting to enforce laws that would taint the Empire is great. If she were to do so, it would result in a civil war between the True Imperials and the Reformists."

The Council had realised too late that putting all the reformers in apparent exile did nothing but make their position of power greater. Only a fool put their enemies out of their reach.

"I don't think she is willing to follow such radical intentions and implement them, she's a military woman," commented another Moff.

"And what if she does? What if tomorrow she decided to send an ultimatum to Coruscant to enforce such laws? Her rise in popularity with the civilian population is showing, especially with her use of the holonet." The Council was growing visibly disgruntled, worry beginning to gnaw deeper into their minds as the speculation continued.

"Calm down," Hissa said in an authoritative tone. "Tanya Degurechaff has not left her designated Super Sector, which means that although she is hunting the rebels like a beast without need for rest, she is doing so within certain patterns. To overthrow the New Republic, it is necessary to take Mon Cala. As that planet is not in her territory, we will have to prepare an offensive ourselves to conquer it. If we manage to take it we will be able to attribute the success of the New Republic's destruction to ourselves, rather than her. All we need to do is to abandon the strategy of defence that we have taken."

With this, Hissa hoped that the Moffs would donate a large part of their fleets into a collective operation to shut down Mon Cala once and for all. However, he saw how uncomfortable all the Moffs became. It was easy to understand why. They did not want to cooperate. The Empire was in a situation of great weakness, and if its collapse would come to pass, all the Moffs here had territories of their own that they wanted to defend and hold.

Hissa felt an ember of rage light within himself. How could he save the Empire from the reformers and the New Republic if everyone with a fleet did not cooperate with him to act in the best interests of the Empire? These idiots thought only of themselves, the Empire be damned. But he knew how to make them commit. Hissa stood from his chair.

"I will commit a portion of my fleet: 50 ISDs, and more than 500 support vessels." The Empire had still an unnecessarily large number of starships, but there were only three types that mattered to most Moffs. Imperial Star Destroyers, Interdictors and Super Star Destroyers.

Controlling an SSD meant that you had the power to become an inner circle member of the Moff Council. Hissa had under his command two Executor-class SSDs and the almost finished Eclipse-class. But he wouldn't risk it in the battle for Mon Cala. It would only grant an opportunity for the other Moffs to betray him and take his SSD in the confusion of the battle. An outcome like that would have him lose the current power he held over the Moff Council.

The Moffs looked nervous with Hissa's declaration. They could not allow Hissa to take all the glory of defeating the New Republic, so they would be forced to send their fair share of an expeditionary fleet. As always, the Council of Moffs were like hyenas looking to feast. But when there was a danger that one of the hyenas may become a lion, they would either cooperate to kill the upstart, or to share the lion's glory between all the members.

"I will send 20 ISDs and 100 support ships." The declaration came from a Moff who was attending via hologram. It was him who became the first to join Hissa's operation. With the initial declaration of aid, the apprehension of the Moffs began to break down, and little by little they each spoke of adding their own starships to the offensive. After a few minutes, the biggest task force ever known in the Empire's existence was created.

"173 ISDs and 1421 support ships," Bertroff tallied after the majority of Moffs committed to sending a fair part of their fleet to be part of the glory to come. "With this we can take Mon Cala, I'm confident of it. Now all that is required is the selection of an admiral and a centralised plan of attack to take Mon Cala and defeat the New Republic."

Thinking it was all over, Hissa felt proud for a moment. He would save the Empire from the Reformists and the New Republic, and through this way Emperor Palpatine's legacy would be protected. However, that pride vanished when he saw the majority of the Moffs turn against him, screaming like pigs in a slaughter.

"There will be no centralised power!" cried out one of the Moffs. "Each volunteer fleet will have an admiral and its own orders." The Moffs began to complain in full against the centralised organisation of the fleet. Hissa feeled tired, but did not dare to show it to his allies.

There was no way he could convince them to think logically. With the sincere wish that the brute force of this fleet alone would be able to defeat the New Republic, Bertroff agreed to the Moffs' demands, settling the situation and hoping for the best. If this fleet is defeated, the most probable outcome is that Degurechaff would march to Coruscant with the support of the Reformists to restore the Imperial Senate.

"What a time to be alive," whispered Hissa.

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

In the deep seas of Mon Cala, in a special building made to hold the government of the New Republic, Mon Mothma watched the great leaders of the government panic, moving like ants that had lost their way. Document and orders were carried back and forth. Degurechaff's offensive threatened all the founding planets of the New Republic in the Galactic South. Most had already fallen and some were still under siege, but the chance of victory was slim.

"Mon Mothma," said Admiral Ackbar as he came up behind her, "we were not prepared for this kind of war, that has been proven. We had only done well because the Empire took up defensive positions in the Mid Rim and the Core. However, now that Grand Moff Degurechaff has gone on a full offensive against us, we are on the verge of being wiped out, not just in the sense of an army, but as an organisation. We are closer than ever to being destroyed."

Mon Mothma knew full well that the existence and survival of the New Republic depended on the Empire cannibalising itself after Palpatine's death. That had been happening, yet Grand Moff Tanya Degurechaff had ruined everything.

"We must take extraordinary measures. Organise the army and the fleet under a central structure, nationalise the production of weapons and capital ships, start producing a larger fleet and army. If we do not we might be defeated. I would even say that even if we do that we would still need to use all our fleet to stop Degurechaff… Abandoning several planets in the process," Ackbar stated resolutely, his tone worried but determined to see that the New Republic survived at any cost.

Mothma was shocked at such a recommendation, and ardently rejected it. "When the New Republic was created, it was agreed that we would have a system where each planet would have a self-defence force and the Republic government would be in charge of organising it in times of need. However, what you are telling me, suggesting these… extraordinary measures, it would be like admitting that such ideals have no merit, and that the Republic should have a centralised and organised army!"

Abandoning the planets that had joined the New Republic in order to begin the buildup of a fleet to defeat Tanya Degurechaff. That had been what more and more voices had been calling for as founding planets continued to fall under the boot of the madwoman. However, if they did so, they would be compromising one of the pillars of the New Republic's foundation.

"And you are suggesting that we gather all of our fleets and risk it all in one battle?" Mothma commented when thinking further on the idea of building up a fleet by abandoning the other planets. She was sceptical. "We know how that turned out for the Empire."

"The difference is that if the Degurechaff offensive continues, the New Republic will dissolve and we will once again disintegrate into scattered rebel groups trying to make the Empire collapse. Now that the New Republic has been created, it must not fall. To try to create it a second time would be virtually impossible."

Mothma felt pressured. She was not a military leader, she was not a strategist, but she was the one who created and organised the rebellion into what it had been, she had led it to this decisive moment. She thought for a moment. Should she partially abandon her ideas to protect the bigger picture, the democracy of the regime she is trying to restore? Was it worth it?...

She supposed it was better to break some ideals and survive than to fail and let the Empire rule the Galaxy without opposition.

"Warn everyone, I will call together the War Council of the New Republic. We will put it to a vote."

Ackbar nodded, moving swiftly as Mothma thought about just how willing she would be to break her ideals to restore democracy, establish a representative republic and end authoritarianism and totalitarianism in the galaxy.

"Chancellor Mothma!" someone shouted, stopping both Ackbar and Mon in their tracks.

"What happened?" Mothma asked the man, who showed himself to be a Bothan.

"The Moff Council has approved the creation of a massive Task Force to take Mon Cala and put down the New Republic. We are talking about more than a hundred and fifty ISDs and around two thousand support vessels."

Ackbar and Mothma shared a look of worry. The situation just got far worse.

"If we handle this incorrectly, the New Republic might even dissolve today," Ackbar warned, his voice grim, but Mothma knew how to handle this situation, she was a politician. She didn't like it, but she knew how to handle it.

"Bothan, I will request your help to help the New Republic in its day of greatest need."

"Whatever is needed," answered the Bothan, bringing a bittersweet smile to Mothma's face.

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

Mon Mothma looked at all those present at the War Council. This Council was the most democratic institution in the New Republic because it was composed of representatives from all the member planets. They had decentralised the army so every member planet could defend itself, but this was becoming a problem for the war effort.

"Dear representatives of all member planets of the New Republic. We are now under constant threat with the new offensive from Grand Moff Degurechaff. This is considered a threat to our very existence and the call for a coordinated and centralised war effort has been growing louder and louder. I put a vote forward to this war chamber to centralise the armed forces and place it under the command of the Supreme Marshal of the Armed Forces of the New Republic. The rank is to be given to Admiral Ackbar should this reform pass."

Whispers filled the room, for no one expected this to be put to a vote. Although the New Republic was under threat from Tanya Degurechaff's offensive, this threat was only within the Southern Galactic Super Sector as far as most understood. Her post-Battle of Sullust offensives had only occurred on the planets allied to the New Republic located in the Galactic South. Anything outside the Grand Moff's territory never got invaded. This included Kashyyyk. which borders Degurechaff's territory yet remained untouched.

To those not threatened by Degurechaff, these were seen as drastic measures, but they were seen as necessary for those who found themselves under siege by the Grand Moff's Imperial forces.

A human representing the planet Shawken stood up, outraged by the proposal and took a position within the War Council as the lead voice of opposition. "When we joined the New Republic in the hope of restoring democracy, the Galactic Senate and ensuring the downfall of the Imperial Order, we never expected the leaders of the New Republic to act as Imperials and not as supporters of the Old Republic. We were assured a thousand and one times that the armies and fleets would be on a planetary level, never state level, and yet already, soon after the Republic began anew, the question of ignoring one of its main principles has been raised?"

His argument was favoured by those who were not under danger from Tanya Degurechaff's armies. However the representatives of the occupied planets and the planets still being invaded looked on with disbelief, even shouting loud insults at such a comment and heckling the man.

"Trust a Core-worlder to speak!" shouted the representative of Sullust. "You, who are safe only thanks to the incompetence of the Imperials. You, who have not suffered an invasion headed by Vader's very own War Dog! Of the 29 founding planets of the New Republic, 7 have already fallen or are in the process of falling to the iron fist of Tanya Degurechaff! If the New Republic is to be saved, the army and the fleet must be centralised!"

Mon Mothma watched quietly as the discussion evolved, observing every hand movement, every glance between the members of the council. She analysed every word and every intention. Mon was a smart woman, she knew and understood the motivations of both sides and understood both arguments, yet it was often so that arguments had little effect on reality.

The representative of Mon Cala raised both arms, signalling to cease the discussion, which it did after a moment, but intense stares continued to be exchanged between the two sides.

"Mon Cala is sympathetic to the plight of our compatriots of Sullust and the South Galactic Super Sector. We are willing to temporarily support a centralisation of the army in light of the strategic situation. Which will be dissolved once the Empire is defeated."

"And how will we be assured that this state of affairs will not continue after the war is over!" someone shouted, several representatives showing their support with cries of affirmation.

"That the soldiers you volunteer will remain your soldiers," Mon Mothma interjected, "that the New Republic is not something that forces its members to join. The New Republic is an entirely voluntary system that you can leave at any time, and the day you do, your troops and ships will leave the centralised army. The New Republic is democratic because each planet can join or leave at any time. We are united by the adversity and tyranny of the Empire, but you will not be forced to stay once the tyranny is over. The New Republic was founded on the sovereignty of planets and such a thing can never be changed. If it did, all the founding planets and those that joined after would leave the New Republic!"

Silence reigned within the council chamber. All were quiet, many of them persuaded by Mon Mothma's speech, yet there was still enough silent opposition for Mothma to know that she needed something more. She leaned on the armrest of her chair and brushed her fingers against a button she usually used to call the secretary. Then, as she prepared again to speak to the representatives, the doors to the chamber opened and a Bothan rushed in. Everyone looked at the Bothan with some resentment, as they were often blamed for not unveiling the plans of Tanya Degurechaff's offensive.

"The Moff Council on Coruscant is planning a massive offensive with more than 180 Imperial Stars Destroyers and around two thousand support ships against Mon Cala! They intend to destroy the New Republic!"

They all looked at each other, muttering. It wasn't just the madwoman now who had started making offensives. The titanic Empire had finally made its move. It was finally putting its great war industry onto the offensive rather than the defensive.

"The New Republic was born in adversity! We struggle against tyranny and the tyrants hate us for it, and now they come to destroy us! That is why I again propose the vote to centralise the military immediately and give control of the fleet and the army to Admiral Ackbar!" shouted Mon Mothma. Her plan was working perfectly, fear was an evil tool if used against the people's interest. But she was using it for the people's interest. The fear of this council will allow her to give Ackbar all he needs to bring victory to the New Republic. And what is more in the people's interest than the survival of the New Republic and its victory over the Empire.

Three seconds of silence that seemed interminable filled the council. The Bothan breathing heavily was muffled by the silence as dense as it was.

"For the New Republic. I vote in favour!" one member shouted, quickly followed by the majority of the members who with cheers for democracy, freedom and the New Republic voted in favour, making it the first unanimous vote in the war council's admittedly short history.

"By unanimous vote, the army and fleet of the New Republic will be centralised! The post of Supreme Marshal of the Armed Forces of the New Republic will be created and a General Staff will be established to allow for greater military organisation and response to the crises that befall the New Republic. For Democracy and the Republic!" shouted Mon Mothma, thinking of how she will need the help of Luke again for the day when the survival of the New Republic will be decided.

"Democracy and the Republic!" they shouted, as the new motto of the New Republic Armed Forces.

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

Max Grobelnel was smoking in a hotel room, the only thing keeping him covered being a luxurious blanket as he listened to slow music. Above the bed he lay in was a window overlooking the streets of Eriadu where there had been a great commotion since the early hours of the morning. Today was the day of the announcement by Grand Moff Tanya Degurechaff whom Max himself had been advising ever since Imperial Intelligence had tried to assassinate her.

Someone came out of the bathroom then, a naked man drying his hair as he glanced at Max.

"It's been a great morning, but you know I didn't come here for this."

Max laughed, he knew perfectly well what the man had come for. The Committee for Imperial Reformation that had placed him in Eriadu had been hoping to gain a public face for many years.

"She is what the CIR has been looking for for years. A born leader, an excellent military woman, but in politics she fails. She's very direct, very straightforward, and does things because they need to be done. That's good and all, but after today many interest groups will surely revolt against her."

The man dressed himself as Max shamelessly looked him over. He looked as sturdy as an oak and had a jaw like an anvil, iron in his eyes, long hair and tanned skin.

"The CIR has infiltrated the Council of Moffs, the southward migration has been successfully completed and the reformist admirals are replacing the totalitarians. We are playing a very dangerous game here, one that will surely set the galaxy ablaze. Grand Moff Degurechaff is a blessing for us in this game that Palpatine began," explained the man in a deep voice, lighting a cigarette as he did. He was an intermediary for the CIR and his job was to keep agents in direct contact with the Committee.

"I advise you not to underestimate her, she is no fool and has little care for the 'games' Imperials often play. If the Committee wants to approach Tanya they must do so with care and respect for her absolute power."

The man raised his eyebrows at Max's warning.

"I thought she was a reformer."

"And she is, but she has her own agenda and something far more dangerous, a will of beskar. She's put rebel prisoners in penal labour camps, working them half to death, and has applied some rather exotic punishments she's named 'crucifixion' and 'decimation' to those who've made the mistake of betraying her. If the Committee approaches her carelessly, they're likely to be crucified themselves."

The man let out a laugh.

"She doesn't sound very nice."

"Oh, don't believe it, she's a sweetheart of a person on the right subjects. The other day she met a war heroine from the Clone Wars when she went out for dinner. I swear, when she came back the difference between a child and her was minimal."

The man finished his cigarette and threw it into a bucket near the bed where Max lay.

"I guess I'll warn the Committee that they should be careful about overdoing it, but I doubt they'll listen to me, you know what they're like."

"Of course I know, that's why I brought you this."

Max got out of bed, the pillow he laid on showing some bite marks. Tired from a rather lengthy exertion, he powered through and didn't let that stop him from walking to a table and picking up a tablet, throwing it towards the man who caught it barely.

"What the fuck are you doing?! What if it breaks?"

"That wouldn't be my problem, it would be yours, besides you've always been very good at catching things in the air Dadro. Now stop being such a crybaby and watch the video inside while I get dressed."

Dadro watched the video on the tablet as Max got dressed.

"She's brutal."

The video was a compilation of recordings of Imperial Intelligence agents being murdered in their beds, at their jobs, walking down the street. A complete purge of the agency, no doubt.

"Tell the Committee that if they are too smart around her that's what they'll be getting, and if that happens I'm not going to defend them. I happen to be very comfortable with the job I have now."

"The Committee saved you from being killed for your ideas in the ISB, would you really betray them in case they and Degurechaff got on bad terms?"

Max finished dressing, wearing extravagant clothes that showed a fair amount of skin. With a mischievous smile on his face, it was clear he wasn't taking what Dadro was saying seriously.

"You said it yourself, this is the Emperor's Game. I have paid my debt by giving the Committee the option of contacting the Great Moff safely. Now with my debt paid, I am going to position myself with the one who at the moment seems to hold the advantage in this 'game', who also happens to be the one paying my salary."

Dadro and Max exchanged glances. Dadro never expected this sort of soft betrayal from Max who had worked so long and hard for the CIR.

"Well, I'll get your words to the Committee."

"I hope so, because if not, there will be surprises and I wouldn't want the Committee to die in such a stupid manner as believing that they can control her."

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

Belisarius Draneir waited outside the luxury hotel in which Grobelnel resided. Beside him were eight stormtroopers and a transport vehicle mounted with a heavy turret. Recent terrorist attacks had the ISB on tenterhooks and all VIPs were now required to travel with a Stormtrooper detachment.

His suit was similar in style to Tanya's, a sleek all black suit with a cape that was black on the outside and white on the inside. His chest bore the decoration that indicated the rank of admiral. It was a rank he had earned not through meritocracy, but as Tanya Degurechaff's right-hand man. Many considered him unworthy of such a rank and made that clear to him as often as possible, yet he couldn't care less about such opinions. He had done bad, horrible things and suffered great injustices. A little humiliation was not going to affect him.

"Admiral, he's coming out now," a Stormtrooper reported to Draneir. He had been distracted by thinking about how he had gotten into the situation he was in. It was all too quick for him, however he ignored it in favour of the present. He looked towards the entrance and focused on Grobelnel, who, after kissing an unfamiliar man who walked beside him, found his way over to Draneir.

"What's up Belisarius, have I kept you waiting long enough?"

Draneir frowned when he called him by his first name, he wasn't used to it. However that was insignificant to the hatred he felt towards Max at that moment.

"A pillow biter?" he asked, with a clear tone of disgust, taking Max by surprise. He didn't respond with hatred or contempt in kind, but with a smile and curiosity.

"You have a problem with that? Do you want me on a leash to protect you, sweetheart?"

The tone of mocking sarcasm was clear to Draneir, who wanted to resort to the most natural form of expression of all, known as a punch in the face. He held back, however, taking out a cigarette and smoking it, as he always did under stress.

"Talk to me like that again and you'll find out just how good a service the hospitals of Eriadu City have."

Max wanted to press the situation further, yet he saw in Draneir's eyes a resentment so great that he felt a quick, slight shiver run down his spine. As if he was really going to beat him to death if he continued with such an attitude.

"You wouldn't really make good on such a threat, would you?" Max asked, a little worried, losing his brat attitude in the process.

"I can stifle my hatred around you and treat you as a respectable member of society would, but if you continue with that attitude, I will no longer find it in myself to continue to do so, and you will no longer be recognisable as a man."

Max held up his hands in surrender, his belligerent attitude tamed by Draneir's willingness to brutalise him to such a point.

Draneir was already tired of having to deal with Tanya's newest advisor, bringing him from the hotel to the job every day. "Get in the damn vehicle, it's six hours before the speech and the Grand Moff's been practising her hand movements for three hours like you said she should." Max entered the vehicle and Draneir sat next to him, followed by the troopers. The silence inside the vehicle as it drove through the streets of Eriadu City was a remarkable contrast to the lively sounds of the metropolis around them.

Max felt very uncomfortable with the turn of events. The day had started out perfectly and everything had been cut short quickly and cleanly by the situation with Draneir.

"Do you want to talk about something? Is your hatred born of trauma or something?" Draneir turned his head and looked Max in the eye. The way he bored his gaze into Grobelnel made it seem as if he was weighing whether to make good on his threat or continue acting 'civilly'.

"If I were to tell anyone, it wouldn't be you."

Max grimaced and crossed his arms in discomfort at Draneir's rather oppressive mood. They had exchanged words so few times this week that the first real interaction between them had been this one.

"Ok then… and how is Tanya doing with practices? Has she improved in showing her intentions, feelings and words with the use of her hands?"

"I would say yes, but it's not for me to judge. You're the one who's been pestering the Grand Moff all week about her dress and use of hands in speeches." Draneir's voice was as cold as Hoth, with a particular emphasis on Tanya's title.

"I wouldn't call it pestering, she has to understand that the way of the populist is the way of appearances."

Then Max received a sudden blow to the shoulder that almost knocked him out of the vehicle. He felt angry, and prepared to raise his voice at the strike when he had tried to remedy the situation by acting decently. He quickly shut his mouth when he saw the burnt surface where he had been sitting before.

"Terrorists!" shouted a stormtrooper as he jumped out of the vehicle and fired towards where the shot came from. Max, who for the first time in his life was in combat was scared, unable to move, before he felt something pull at him and dragged him out of the vehicle, forcing him to take cover behind the vehicle.

"Listen here you idiot, if it were up to me you would die, but you are useful to Tanya so stay down until this is over!" shouted Draneir.

Max nodded timidly and took cover as blasterfire rang out across the street, civilians running from the scene as the STs engaged the terrorists. Draneir watched as the trooper operating the heavy blaster mount was taken down by a shot to the chest. Squatting down to him he removed his helmet and checked that the shot did not penetrate the armour, confirming it didn't. Then he placed his fingers on the trooper's jugular vein and confirmed that he was still alive but unconscious.

"Sissy, get over here and take care of this trooper!" Draneir shouted. He put on the Stormtrooper's helmet on his own head, checking to make sure it still worked. Max was quick to reach the wounded man and check his condition.

"And you?" he asked as he analysed the trooper's head for any wounds.

"Me? I am going to fight those terrorist scum." Draneir answered. Without hesitation he leaped towards the vehicle to take control of the heavy turret with his hands and aimed towards the terrorists holed up in tall buildings sniping from the windows. Draneir didn't hesitate to pull the trigger once he had the building in his sights, beginning to destroy it bit by bit through sustained firepower. The helmet kept him from being dazzled by the intense light generated by the heavy blaster and at the same time helped him to identify when a terrorist attempted to lean out and shoot back.

"We are advancing to the building, Lauri. Continue providing fire support, we will proceed into CQB."

"This is Admiral Draneir, Lauri is down. I'm the one giving fire support."

"Status of Lauri." Draneir could hear concern in the officer's voice but at the same time professionalism. The almost imperceptible gasps indicated he was running.

"Status Yellow."

"Copy that."

Draneir's suppressive fire allowed the group of Stormtroopers to reach the building. One trooper who appeared to be the commanding officer placed an explosive charge on the door and took cover behind the wall as his soldiers prepared a flash grenade.

"Three, two, one!"

The mechanism locking the door was blasted apart by the charge, and the moment the door opened slightly the flash grenade was thrown. Using its explosion as an opportunity, two troopers proceeded into the building, firing at the terrorists that had been blinded by the flash, and analysed every point of the room they entered.

"First room clear."

The rest of the squad entered the room and proceeded to clear the building room by room. The steady sound of the heavy blaster eroding the building's walls was the song that the troopers danced to with calculated movements born from years of training. The terrorists were eliminated with frightening efficiency, with most going down with just one clean, precise shot.

"Building clear. Admiral, cease suppressive fire on the top of the building, we're moving on to the top floors."

The blaster fire stopped and the seven troopers repeated the same act as before, however when they entered the room, there was nothing left, the walls were destroyed, and the bodies of the terrorists laid about, charred from the heavy fire they had been subjected to.

"Group One, check that no one is left, Group Two to the terrace."

Three troopers climbed the stairs to the roof while the rest stayed to check that everyone was dead.

"Who do you think these terrorists were? Leftovers of the II? Rebels? Locals that supported the Tarkins?" asked one of the Stormtroopers as they kicked one of the dead bodies.

"No fucking idea, but I count around 50 of them. They really were trying to kill Lady Tanya's right hand," answered the officer.

About a hundred meters away Draneir removed the helmet and took cover behind the vehicle, he was relatively tired. Although he had military training and had been in combat situations, the stress of space combat just didn't compare to the stress of ground combat.

"Thank you," said Max, who had removed the armour of Stormtrooper Lauri and checked that he had no more wounds. Max had also left him in a position where if he vomited he wouldn't choke.

"Don't say it to me, tell Tanya. If it was up to me, you'd be dead."

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

I looked up and saw myself in the mirror. Short blonde hair, blue eyes, tired face and the beginnings of dark circles underneath my eyes.

"Introduction," I said.

Moving my gaze around the mirror, I looked at my black suit. Elegant as it could be, it gave the sensation of authority.

"It suits you." Tanya von Degurechaff spoke suddenly, as the spectres often did. "You have the style, the elegance and the militarism. I especially like the detail of your cloak. Black on the outside and white on the inside. I might like it even better than my flight suit during the Great War."

I felt uncomfortable, rarely did the two voices have anything positive to say and when they did, it was almost always immediately followed by bad news, like fate's way of laughing at their misery.

"Grobelnel knows populism, that's for sure," the Salaryman commented.

I breathed in, and out. The voices spoke less and less. I think I understood how this parody of schizophrenia worked now after all this time of dealing with it. When I was at my worst, when I was under the most pressure, the more they talked to me and didn't shut up. However, when I was doing better, when I was more relaxed and when I wasn't under constant stress, they started to slowly disappear, talking less and less.

It was irritating, having to deal with this… illness.

Breathing in and out, I returned to the starting position.

"Dear Imperial Citizens," I began, softly practising the speech as I looked at myself in the mirror, waving my arms for emphasis, looking out at my imaginary audience. My body movements were a dance and my speech the song I danced to.

I danced and sang for minutes until I broke out in a sweat. I looked in the mirror and saw the same figure.

"What did Grobelnel say? Populism is the pen and the sword. The pen because it convinces and gives you the influence you need to do the deeds, and the sword because with it you can get the power you need to act and nip a nation's problems in the bud."

I sighed and slumped down into a chair. The room around me was a sparsely decorated one, with a few cameras, tables and mirrors in it. The only chair in the room was only there because I brought it.

"Let's see what I look like from another perspective." Picking up a tablet, I played back what the cameras recorded of my practice. I watched myself as I spoke, waving my arms and speaking with passion.

"If crazed maniacs can convince people to slaughter their neighbours and relatives, then I will be able to convince the Galactic South that reform is necessary." I tried to reassure myself.

Elimination of slavery, industrial and service reorganisation, nationalisation of the galactic means of transport, nationalisation of all strategic resource industries, reaffirmation of the independence of the bank, compulsory civil or military service, the creation of a planetary representative chamber, creation of a chamber of ideological representation, new taxes, making the judiciary independent of the state, controlling mercenaries, banning bounty hunters, centralization…

So many reforms. I will surely anger many...

I chuckled a little, and struck the armrest of my chair with my right fist.

"Let them be angry, let them rebel. I will reform the Empire, I will do what is best for the galaxy because I have the power to do it and it is my duty to do it if I want to survive... no... Not just survive, I survived before. Now I want to live."

"That's a good ideal," said a man's voice, a voice I didn't recognise at all. I stopped for a second, the odds that it was someone who was there to kill me were so high that I didn't hesitate to grab my blaster and spin around quickly, firing five accurate shots at the place where the voice came from.

"You almost hit me," the voice commented comically, as if laughing at the situation. But then I saw him. The figure of a young man in his twenties, with long hair and wearing unfamiliar clothing. But that wasn't what made me stand with my mouth open, it was that although he had similar colours to a real person, the colours were bluish, as if he had been filtered over with a blue layer.

"Who are you?"

The figure laughed, with a smile that would've made many women swoon.

"It's me, before I became a monster."

The image changed from the young man to a six foot tall, dark figure in armour and helmet.

"Father," I spoke softly, surprised to see him. "How come? No… it is impossible. This is surely another illusion, my head attacking me again"

The figure transformed back into the visage of a young man and laughed a little bit.

"Can an illusion do this?" Said him, taking one of the cameras and raising it. Not believing my eyes I decided to look at the tablet, seeing how effectively the camera showed a different perspective after this… ghost moved it.

"It's a long explanation, but I have limited time. In a few minutes I will disappear from your sight. I am using my power to present myself to you and talk to you. Everything would be easier if you were attuned to the Force… But that doesn't matter."

I grimaced and put my blaster away slowly. The situation was abnormal, but nothing about the man who adopted me had been normal to begin with. I had a little bit of fear, the memory of when he almost killed me was still fresh in my mind, yet at the same time I felt the same familiarity and reassurance that had come about over many years as the man raised me.

"What's wrong… Father?"

"I know it's awkward, but I want to tell you that I love you, that I look fondly upon the years that I raised you, and that I regret all those moments when my anger consumed me… when I hurt you. That is why, for all the wrong I did to you and because I am responsible for you, I am here to warn you before you go out today to make the speech, I have been watching you perform these past few days."

I felt like my privacy had been attacked, but the truth is that it had no real or physical effect on me. It should be of no concern or discomfort to me. I saw how he was about to speak again, so I interrupted him.

"Before you speak again, I want to tell you that even though you had your bad moments, I appreciate and thank you for everything you did for me. Educating me, taking me to the Officer Academy, saving my life, giving me the Perseverance... I really appreciate what you have done for me. It is my belief that you have far exceeded the normal duties of a parent."

Contrary to what I expected, the smile on my father's face disappeared, almost as if he was about to cry.

"You don't know how much that means to me." The words were spoken softly, however he quickly collected himself after speaking. His face became serious, dominating his countenance. It was a far cry from the smiling man that had appeared in front of me. "However, I am running out of time and I must warn you. The speech you will make will surely make this conflict even more savage and vicious than it is now. Not only because the reforms you would enforce will divide the Empire, but because you will force those who oppose you to become more intelligent, more aggressive. You still have time to disappear, to hide on a decent planet and live the good life you have left instead of making the Galactic Civil War that much worse."

I stopped to think for a moment. How would I force my enemies to be smarter and more aggressive? Will doing the right thing make the situation worse?

Then I imagined for a moment of disappearing, of living a life of comfort. However, if that were to happen, what would I do? What am I supposed to do? I can't even go ten minutes without working before I get drunk, and nothing brings me more pleasure than doing good work and destroying my enemies. As a sentient being I was already broken, insane and incapable of doing something as normal as doing nothing. Punished to work for life, or break.

"If doing what needs to be done will make things worse, so be it. It is time for something to be done in this galaxy, not because of honour, ideals or glory, but because the galaxy deserves better than the dumpster fire it is now. The citizens of the galaxy deserve fair justice, a prosperous economy and lasting peace."

My father nodded.

"You make me proud. The second warning is of a threat of extragalactic invaders. Few know about them, yet for a decade the Empire has been preparing for war with them. The civil war will continue to weaken the galaxy in the face of a foreseeable extragalactic invasion. I'm not telling you to act now, I'm not telling you to panic, but be aware of the threat."

I bit my lips, more rubbish for the galaxy, more enemies, more trouble. "I understand."

Father nodded and then his form began to slowly fade. "See you in a few months, when I will have recovered enough to visit again. Know that I love you very much. And one last thing, send someone to my palace on Coruscant to recover information about me, my actions and what happened on the Second Death Star. With that said… Goodbye for now, Tanya."

"Goodbye, Father," I whispered, and then my father figure was gone. It felt weird for him to mention his palace but I suppose I can send someone there when I have the opportunity. I stood there for another three minutes waiting for something else to happen, but nothing did.

"Peace, Law and Prosperity," I murmured as I sat back in my chair, analysing the conversation with my adoptive father.

"Those are my goals from now on."