Tanya slowly becoming more and more totalitarian

In a luxurious strip club of Eriadu, Max Grobelnel was relaxing on a large couch in a private rented room. He sipped wine from a glass while watching two scantily clad men dance in front of him. Enjoying the wonderful local sights and wine became a way for Max to spend his free time. A way to de-stress after several long hours of arguing with Tanya about which decision was best to make on certain issues.

He laughed a little.

He had long since passed college and academia, but he felt like he was in one when it came to Tanya. He couldn't make a single argument or ask Tanya to make a serious political move without long hours of explaining why it should be done. 'Justify your answer.' It reminded him of an exam. He once wrote for a maths question that the justification was in the book he studied. He failed that exam for it but it was worth it for that small and silly prank.

A figure slowly approached, sitting beside him when he was close enough. In a careful manner he placed his hand on Max's wine glass, taking it from him and beginning to drink from it.

"Dadro, what good company you keep me, but I paid 100 credits for that bottle of wine and that was the last glass I'll fill with it. You really have bad habits when it comes to other people's money."

"Says the one who lived off rich men, selling his body to pay for his whims until now when he can finally sell his services instead. How much money do you owe me?"

"I think about fifty thousand credits, but don't worry you have collected your debt well on my body."

The two men laughed. A man wearing only a thong approached them.

"Can I offer you boys anything?" he asked.

"What's the most expensive bottle of alcohol you have and how much is it?"

The man in the thong paused in thought for a moment. Max noticed the man had signs of several operations on his body to make him more attractive. They were minuscule details but they were noticeable. The sex market was one of the most lucrative in the entire galaxy. From the rats of Coruscant to the slaves of Ryloth. Sex was one of the characteristics that united the entire galaxy and there were a thousand ways to be sexually satisfied amongst the stars.

Although in many cases the market was filled with sex slaves, in some cases people prostituted themselves voluntarily. Most of the time it was not voluntary. Gangsters and slavers dominated the market. Max knew they weren't slaves as the ISB would have taken this place down by now, but he didn't know if the employees worked freely or were forced by the mob.

"That would be the bottle of Tare. 60% alcohol but surprisingly sweet. A favourite amongst the local elite. Only 1000 credits."

Max did the mental maths, he was getting paid 20,000 credits a month. He could afford it but it was going to be an expensive indulgence even for his salary. He glanced at Dadro out of the corner of his eye and then sighed.

"Half and half?" Max asked.

"Nope, not a chance.."

"I'll treat you to you-know-what~."

Dadro rolled his eyes.

"Half and half."

"Perfect then. A bottle of Tare please."

The waiter left as Max and Dadro enjoyed the view. The two were shoulder to shoulder when Dadro put his hand over Max's shoulder.

"What do the reformers want now?"

Dadro flinched and withdrew his arm, the hostility in Max's tone indicating that he partially knew what Dadro was here for. Dadro was not here for a pleasure trip.

"They want you to make smalltalk about us to the Grand Moff. You know, introduce her a little bit to the organisation, how we operate... our ideals. Once we have enough information about her and she has enough information about us, we'll begin arranging informal meetings."

"Are you asking me to help you get a political appointment with Degurechaff?"

"If you want to call it a political appointment, call it that. The committee is afraid of her but still knows that she is their one chance to not disappear from history. That's why they want to entrust you with such a task.... And I say entrust but they fear that you have betrayed them for her."

"If I had betrayed them, they would know it, believe me. Especially because if she thought you were a danger. She would have killed you and you know that when I want to, I am very bad at explaining myself when I want... I still remember that idiot noble who tried to woo me... A bad explanation to the police and the courts later, and off to jail he went for attempted rape. Very bad indeed haha!"

Max's laughter did not ease Dadro who frowned at him.

"I'm being serious, Max."

"So am I, Dadro. You want me to chat to the Grand Moff about you and your ideals? Tell me why I should even bother?"

"Is it money you want?"

"I wouldn't turn down a nice donation from the reformists. But unfortunately such a donation could not sway my explanations to Degurechaff. Corruption is becoming more and more criminalised. I hear that Tanya is insisting on the death penalty for all people guilty of corruption. From those who steal 100 credits to those who steal millions. So I'm not going to risk my hide."

Dadro bit his lower lip and frowned, he was about to say something but was stopped by the door opening. A man appeared with a tray and a bottle of alcohol that read Tare, its brand on it. From the bottle's appearance, one could tell that the spirit was of high quality from its numerous decorative lines and fine craftsmanship. The man placed two glasses and a metal bucket of ice on the couch.

"The three of you leave," Max said, addressing the dancers and the waiter. With a slight bow of their heads they each exited the room, Max following them with his eyes as the door closed behind the last one. At which point Grobelnel turned and put an ice in each glass and then added the Tare to both glasses.

"One of those prostitutes is a mole of the ISB. You really are dumb Dadro, you almost got me killed! I'm lucky the ISB knows I like to make an asshole out of myself."

Dadro looked at the door and then around.

"And you're not afraid of any possible cameras and listening devices?"

Max held up a device, which bore the mark of Imperial Intelligence.

"Not at all. When Imperial Intelligence was purged, many toys were confiscated by the ISB. A pair of nimble hands and pretty words and it was mine."

"How come you're so dumb and smart at the same time?"

"Who knows? Now get on with what you came here for."

Max drank from his glass with one hand, downing the entire contents in one gulp as if it were the cheapest and strongest alcohol possible. However he was surprised that despite how hard the alcohol hit, the taste wasn't strong at all. It was smooth. Sure, his head felt dizzy after consuming it but the act itself was pleasurable. The spirit was famous for a good reason.

"Is it good?"

"Too good, I bet they used some sort of drug."

Max passed the other glass to Dadro and took the bottle, reading the spirit's contents. By the Empire's Food Safety Law all products of common consumption had to have public information on what they were made of. Running his eyes quickly over the materials used he soon saw.

"Spice, the same one trafficked by the pykes. No wonder it's so popular."

"Should I be worried?"

"No, if it's gone through the Empire's administration it should have been safe."

Max shut his mouth and slowly set the bottle down on the table, looking up at the strip club's flashing and changing lights.

"I'll have to inform the ISB to do more internal purging."

Max sighed, and filled his glass again, he had paid five hundred credits for the bottle and was going to take advantage of it, but he was more than sure that the amount of spice in the bottle would make it illegal, yet it was traded legally as if there was nothing wrong with it.

"More purges? You're not selling the Degurechaff regime well."

"If you're still not buying then you know nothing. Listen to me, if you think that you would do better in Degurechaff's position you are lying to yourself. She is doing what needs to be done. Civilian and military corruption are so extensive that every day hundreds of corruption case ISB reports come across Degurechaff's desk. Anyway, back to the original topic. We got sidetracked. You want me to talk to Degurechaff about you? You want me to make political appointments between you? You're going to have to promise me three things. First, if you come to power you will not purge me. Second, I will be your main liaison. If you use another liaison or contact me publicly my help is over. And lastly, you have to tell me personally what is going on with the Council of Moffs. I know you have infiltrators in there. You will tell me each and everything they say."

"I'll have to talk it over with..."

"No talking or bullshit. Now or never. Accept or refuse."

Dadro drank his glass and felt the alcohol hit his head.

"I accept."

"Good….Well, if you break any of the three, I'll personally see to it that the Grand Moff purges the reformers."

"Including me?" said Dadro with a laugh.

"No, you're too cute and gifted to die. Besides, you're just a liaison."

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Draneir waited angrily outside the male strip club as he smoked. His foot constantly tapping the floor and the 8 accompanying Stormtroopers looking bored. Grobelnel had called to pick him up an hour ago and yet they had been waiting with no sign of Max..

"Damn it!" Draneir shouted in anger, throwing another burnt out cigarette to the ground. There were twenty cigarettes on the ground, all of them Draneir's. The STs accompanying him noticed how he only smokes when it came to picking up Max. As if Max's arrival was reason enough to smoke.

"I swear to Tanya, I'm going to get that son of a bitch. Four of you, with me!"

Draneir marched towards the entrance as the STs looked at each other, unsure on how they should react. The Sergeant quickly called out three names to go with him and they began to follow behind Draneir as he stalked forward with clenched fists and a look of hatred.

"Draneir!"

The five men's advance stopped as Max Grobelnel appeared through the door. Clearly drunk and alone, Draneir assumed Max didn't fuck someone this time. Draneir pulled an empty cigarette pack from his pocket, squeezed it into an amorphous ball and chucked it at Max's face. With deadly accuracy, the ball beamed Max directly and nearly shut him up.

"You only live because I can't kill you." Draneir said, turning around. "Pick up that human trash and bring him to the vehicle."

Draneir sat in the convertible vehicle with a mounted E-web, frustrated with always having to pick up Grobelnel. The only reason he did it was because Tanya asked him personally. She believed that if Draneir wasn't there the terrorists would kill the poor bastard. Draneir wanted every day to test that theory, but he didn't dare disappoint Tanya. She had enough trouble as it was without his personal feelings causing her any problems.

Scanning around the big city, Draneir enjoyed the simple but functional architecture of the city. It reminded him, for better or worse, of Coruscant, though more so the upstairs. There was nothing good to remember about the underworld of Coruscant.

With the unpleasant thoughts of the Coruscant underworld entering his mind, Draneir tried to find a cigarette but he had spent all of them waiting for Grobelnel. When Max sat down next to him, Draneir couldn't help but smack Max on the shoulder. Light enough not to be a direct attack and hard enough to leave a bruise.

"Why?!" asked Max, angrily.

"For being an asshole and a faggot. What the fuck are you doing getting drunk before work?"

"I wanted to try a famous product." he said, holding up a bottle that Draneir didn't see until now.

"What's that?"

"Some kind of famous alcohol. This shit ain't even 60% alcohol and I bet it's got more % spices than legal. Yet it's approved by the Imperial Food and Drinks Bureau."

"Spices? What are you talking about?"

Max cleared his throat.

"What are you doing? Start driving," Draneir said to the Stormtooper that was in the seat of the driver.

The ST nodded and the vehicle was soon moving through the city streets.

"Check the back of the bottle."

The vehicle moved through the streets of the capital while Draneir read the contents of the bottle.

"That's definitely a lot of spices. The Pykes you say? "

"The Pykes for sure. Degurechaff is so focused on her conflict against the Hutt that she's forgetting that there are other gangs. Criminals that are somehow legalising their merchandise into luxury goods for the elites. The sons of bitches are smart."

"That's a lot of theories. However, nothing can be confirmed without prior investigations".

"That's the problem Draneir. No one's doing any investigations, no one is watching the Bureau. The Grand Moff is focusing too much on certain things. She has what we call 'tunnel vision'. So much searching corruption in the military and the ISB that she is forgetting about the civilian sector of her government"

Draneir's gaze soured and Grobelnel sensed his words were being misinterpreted.

"I'm not calling Degurechaff useless dammit. I'm just saying that one person isn't enough to deal with all this, we need to split the ISB into more branches that specialise in different tasks. The ISB won't work as a sole organisation dedicated to being the civilian police, political watchdogs, military security, spies, etc... For the love of logic, something as obvious as this drug masquerading as alcohol has gone unnoticed. All while the ISB spends resources spying on me by infiltrating as prostitutes in the whorehouses I visit. The ISB is doing too many things at once, it's expected that they'll be inefficient as a result."

Draneir looked at the bottle and then at Max. He took a swig from the bottle and savoured it. His eyes seemed to widen as he noticed the taste and effects.

"I know this stuff, it's used in illegal whorehouses. This specific herb... I don't remember its name, but it's for libido, very popular and very illegal. This shit is addictive, how are you still fine after drinking this shit?"

"Fine?" Max said, in a mocking tone. "I just got smashed by one of my favourite partners. It hurts all over my body, but the important thing is that you see, things need to change... Wait. How do you know so much about this?"

Draneir looked at Max and then at the bottle of alcohol with illegal contents in it.

"Shut the fuck up."

Draneir desperately reached into any of his pockets for cigarettes, but found none. Fortunately the ST operating the E-web offered one to Draneir, relieving his building frustration.

"Thank you soldier."

"You're welcome Admiral," the ST replied.

As soon as he got it, he lit it and began to inhale its smoke.

"Max, some personal advice. Ask too many questions and you may disappear, learn to choose your words and think twice about the questions you ask me."

Draneir puffed on the cigarette.

"I wished I could force the ISB to split up but I can't, neither have proof neither Tanya is willing to"

Draneir thought for a moment in the mandalorian he contracted to act as his spy. He didn't find anything that could help him to attack the ISB and force Tanya to slit them. Not that he wanted to split the ISB for efficiency. He wanted to split them because he did not trusted Resuci and that the ISB held all the intelligence and espionage power in the Super Sector.

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"How are we losing on Tatooine?" Tanya Degurechaff shouted to her staff. When things started to calm down she thought things were going to get better. But no. It was just the calm before the storm.

The Hutts had retaliated, stepping up piracy and smuggling efforts. The New Republic was initiating rebellion campaigns throughout their territory by allying with slavers, and the wealthy and mercenaries were migrating to the Galactic Gallia Province. The ISB still had no evidence of the wealthy rebelling but the taxation of the wealthier strata of society was causing conflicts. There was a distinction between millionaires and those who had more than millions. Coincidentally, the millionaires were staunch supporters of Tanya's regime while those who were eclipsing their wealth were against the regime.

"Our estimates of an army of one million were... optimistic," Rano Resuci said, in a hologram, as he was still on Naboo.

"Optimistic? What is the situation on the ground? Yesterday you were telling me that the Imperial army was going to defeat the disorganised Hutt rabble and today you tell me we are losing?"

The looks on the staff's faces were tense. The only one who remained calm was Garrik Trier, Supreme Admiral of the Empire. In contrast, Hans Model, in charge of the Stormtroopers and Cassio Tagge, leader of the Imperial Army, seemed to fear Tanya's fury. Tanya's purges were starting. Deaths already numbered in the tens of thousands from the purges in some administrations and prisons. She had not yet touched the military, but no one here doubted that she would soon start the purge in the military. Thepurge was starting and things will get worse in a matter of days. They knew it.

"The Hutts have deployed four million troops, which are surprisingly well organised and, contrary to expectations, their weapons and uniforms are fairly standardised. It seems that the rumours that the Hutts secretly had a well-organised army and fleet were actually the truth. All the evidence indicates they have a professional fleet and army."

Tanya gave Rano a look that made him feel genuine fear. He sensed something, even though he knew it wasn't real. He felt a phantom pain of Lord Vader's hand choking him.

"You promised me. You assured me. You swore before your God. That the Hutts' professional armies and fleets were a lie. That they were conspiracy theories of the defenders of slavery and that it went back to a campaign made by the Hutts centuries ago that convinced the galaxy that a campaign against them would mean a war. A war that although the Hutts could lose, it would cause so many deaths that it was not even worth thinking about such an idea."

Rano ran his finger down the collar of his shirt to ease the choking sensation. He didn't want to be purged, he was loyal and had done a good job so far. However, apparently his report had failed miserably.

"I apologise on behalf of the ISB and myself. It was Imperial Intelligence that was in charge of spying on the Hutts and the reports we were able to retrieve indicated that it was all a lie... That it was a conspiracy that was incited in our time even by Emperor Palpatine himself. I... had great confidence in this report, so much so that I would have sent my son to Tatooine if needed, confident of victory. I can do nothing but ask your forgiveness, Grand Moff."

Tanya's cold, murderous stare was the pure heritage of Lord Vader. Everyone here had witnessed at some point in their lives how Lord Vader treated incompetence.

"Do you know how my Father dealt with such… errors?"

Everyone gulped in fear. Everyone except Garrik Trier who maintained calm eyes and a calm posture. He knew he was doing the best job possible and Tanya had complimented him several times on his successes against New Republic guerrilla fighters and pirates.

"Death," Rano Resuci said.

"Correct," Tanya replied.

Rano felt the need to plead even though he didn't know if Tanya had the ability to choke him in any way like Lord Vader did.

"However, I want to be different. We all make mistakes, Rano, even I make mistakes. Failure is understandable, and when a competent person makes a mistake, it can be forgiven. I forgive you personally. What I can't stand is incompetence and betrayal. You know this very well since you are the one in charge of purging them from the ranks of the government and bureaucracy. So do not worry, you may make mistakes. However, these mistakes should be few. Prove to me that you are competent Rano, do not make me doubt you. You don't want... someone else to take your place. Do you?"

The tension that Tanya had generated was slowly released. Everyone was convinced by every word Tanya had said and felt partly reassured that she was not going to repeat her father's footsteps. Lord Vader was a great man, but one with a murderous temper.

"I will not fail you again," Rano said, rising from his chair and bowing at 90 degrees. The scene shown by the hologram was one of total submission to Tanya's authority.

"Meritocracy, this lovely system, the aristocracy of the most capable. That's our way, all of you here know that. You were chosen here personally by my hand because you were the most competent, and I will not kill you for a single mistake. I only kill the corrupt, the traitor and the incompetent. People often like to make a distinction between incompetence, corruption, and treason. To me they are all the same crime but to different degrees. If we were in a perfect system, incompetence would be punishable by dismissal. But this is not a perfect system. So incompetence will be met with execution. Remember that. I don't care about your ideals, your religion, your beliefs, your morals. If you are incompetent, you are traitors, if you are corrupt, you are traitors. If you are already traitors, there is nothing worse to compare with. So let this be clear. I know the difference between an error and incompetence. I will not execute you for an error. Only if you betray the Empire."

It was a direct threat, however it was a very small threat compared to one Lord Vader would make.

"Yes, Grand Moff Degurechaff."

All members of the General Staff saluted, with rigorous discipline. Discipline enforced by Tanya in everything she touched.

"Well then, Trier, give your report on the Hutt fleet."

A hologram appeared in the middle of the table. It showed the situation on Tatooine, the Imperial troops on the planet marked in blue and the Hutt forces marked in red. Looking down from orbit above the planet, it was filled with red dots. Touching a few settings, those red dots soon became images of different spaceships.

"Here's the situation. The Hutt fleet is similar to the one we faced on Sullust, however unlike Sullust their fleet is combat ready, so engaging in direct combat is a danger. And unlike a month ago, we cannot afford to leave too many systems unprotected as the pirates are expanding their activities more and more. Task Force One is in Eriadu and is the one I would use in case I am ordered to engage the fleet. However I cannot promise victory as we are outnumbered three to one."

"Couldn't we put Task Force One and Two together for this mission?"

"It depends, do you want to stop the hunt for Hondo Ohnaka, the leader of the piracy right now in our territory? If we kill him successfully I'm pretty sure the piracy activity would be reduced. Hondo is a legend, for better or for worse. Where he goes, the wandering pirates follow, and if he dies, they will dissolve. If I dare compare him he is almost like a Khan, where he goes the tribes follow."

Tanya squeezed the bridge of her nose with her right hand, then to relax her headache she reached up and began to massage her forehead. It slightly relieved the headache but had no real effect.

"How long does Field Marshal Lauri estimate he can hold out on Tatooine right now?"

Tagge and Model looked at each other, seeing who was going to be the one to deliver the news. Tagge sighed and stood up.

"He estimates that without access to direct logistics he can hold out for three months. When he was dropped off he didn't expect a siege, so the resources he has are limited. Plus he has been forced to put the local population and the army on rationing."

Tanya looked at each and every member of the General Staff.

"I don't plan to lose on Tatooine. Does anyone understand why?"

"Because there are a million soldiers on the ground?" Model asked.

"That's one good reason. But in reality it's another. Tatooine is not a simple fight, Tatooine is where the Empire and the Hutt fight to see who has supremacy. Whoever loses will be at a disadvantage in any diplomatic negotiations. This battle is not only about war, it is about politics. I once heard someone say that war is just another form of politics. And if there is any proof that that statement is true, it is this battle."

Garrik Trier looked at Tanya sceptically.

"And what if you lose or don't want to negotiate?"

"Then there will be an all-out war. And honestly, seeing how the Hutts have hidden surprises thus far, I don't plan to escalate to all-out war. That is why you must understand, if you lose on Tatooine, you don't just lose a battle. You lose a war where you will force me to negotiate with the Hutt at a disadvantage. You lose a war that will allow the Hutt to dominate the economy in our territory. Corrupting the Empire to the core. Trier, assemble Task Force 1 and 2 and prepare them for combat. Tagge and Model, I want over two million reinforcement troops. We're going to win the battle of Tatooine no matter what. I want logistics to be prepared for a long campaign. Prefabricated defences and even resources to start creating infrastructure on the planet. Tatooine will be the death of the Hutts dominance in our territory or the place where I will be forced to submit myself to the Hutts in to a state of almost vassalization"

Tatooine was going to be Stalingrad. My own Stalingrad.

Maybe I should name it Degurechaffgrad or something like that, Tanya thought to herself.