Gilad Pellaeon let out a long sigh as he stepped into his quarters. It had been a very long day indeed. The Council of Moffs continued to fight his efforts to reduce security along the Republic/Imperial border. It had been over five years since peace was signed… it was time to relax their military efforts and focus their strength elsewhere. But the Council of Moffs continued to argue with him every step of the way. At least Tarkin had eased up. He needed her family’s continued support.
On top of that, there had been further demands to learn more about the Empire of the Hand, and even several calls to force the territory to join with the Remnant proper. He wondered about the wisdom of some of these Moffs sometimes. Thrawn set up the Empire of the Hand as a self-sustaining organization within the Unknown Territories for a reason. Thrawn had suspected that there could be a threat to the whole Galaxy within the bordering regions… there were even signs that he may have fought against the threat when he was with the Chiss fleet.
Thrawn. There was a time he seemed the best chance to bring peace back to the galaxy. With his cunning, he nearly destroyed the New Republic rebels and united the galaxy once again under the Empire. A Chiss from the Unknown Regions, he was exiled from his people for what amounted to being a skilled general… and he became the highest ranking alien within the Empire. His skill as a tactician was beyond reproach.
If he had been at Endor, who knows how that debacle would have ended differently. Instead, he was in the Unknown Regions and Wild Space, establishing the Empire of the Hand. His return four years after the death of the Emperor had given Pellaeon hope for the Empire once again. But with his death, the Imperial Remnant suffered defeat after defeat until they signed a peace treaty with the New Republic several years ago… about the same time Pellaeon learned of the Empire of the Hand’s existence.
At least the New Republic had not been as corrupt as its predecessor. And Skywalker’s new Jedi have not been the child-stealing hypocrites that he remembered from his youth. Indeed, the New Republic hasn’t seemed as bad as he thought it would be. Still, their politics leave many openings for chaos and corruption to reenter Galactic life. And when that time comes, he hoped that the Imperial Remnant could be there to provide stability for those who need it. If not Pellaeon himself… he was getting on in years, after all… then whoever took command when he fell.
As he took off his hat, he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. Something… was amiss. His instincts warned him that he was not alone.
A dark figure emerged from the shadows. “Pellaeon,” it hissed. “Welcome home.” Instantly, the aging officer had a blaster in his hand and aimed at the intruder, and another hand reached for his comlink. “I’d ssssuggessst not calling for guardssss just yet, Pellaeon,” it added, holding its passive stance.
Pellaeon gazed at the figure, his blaster still aimed, his finger ready to com for guards in an instant. It was armored, likely male, with a black hood and robe, but he couldn’t quite seem to make out its face in the shadows. “Who are you?”
“I am Nom Anor,” he explained. “I have assssissssted you in your rissse to power.”
“I very much doubt that,” Pellaeon replied.
“Doubt it or not, I will sssay thisss… I can help you achieve your goalsss.”
Pellaeon scoffed. “I don’t think there’s anything you can offer me.” His finger twitched towards the com switch.
“I have evidensssce of one of your Moffssss operating behind your back,” he replied. “I can give it to you… in exchange for loyalty.”
“I’ve heard enough,” he replied, flicking the com switch. “This is Pellaeon. I have an intruder in my quarters.”
“You’ll regret thissss,” Anor hissed angrily, fading into the shadows again. Pellaeon fired at the vanishing figure, striking it in the chest, but as the blaster flash faded… he could no longer see anyone in his quarters.
Red-robed guards stormed into the room, and Pellaeon turned on the light. “He can’t have gone far. I didn’t get a good look at him… but he was black armored and robed. Find him!” Once caught, I can question him more extensively about his evidence… and whatever his goals are.
Moff Lavira Tarkin stomped into her quarters. This was not what she had wanted. Pressing a button to activate anti-spying measures, she hissed into the room. “Anor! Are you here?”
It took several seconds, but his form finally emerged from the shadows in the corner. “I am here, Tarkin.”
“The Obfuscation was destroyed!” she snarled. “You assured me that the Obfuscation’s mission was critical!”
“It wasss,” Anor replied. “And itssss desssstruction was unplanned and regretful, but it will sssserve our purposessss just as well. All is sssstill in hand.”
Lavira Tarkin didn’t stop to wonder how Anor could already know of the Obfuscation’s destruction. His fingers reached throughout the Imperial Remnant; she wasn’t his only source of information. But she did notice something unusual about her companion. “…are you out of breath, Anor?”
He didn’t answer. “A vessssel dessstroyed so clossse to the Empire of the Hand will require Pellaeon to dissssclossse full information about the territory. And if he indeed knowsss asss little as I sssussspect he doessss… thissss will weaken his sssstansssce. And you, Moff Tarkin, will have the political power from inssstigating this resssearch and leading the effort to absssorb the Empire of the Hand… you will become Empresssss, assss promisssed.”
She glared at him. “I liked Captain Parr,” she pouted.
“More than you want to be Empresssss?” Anor gestured. “Trussst me, Tarkin. All isss prossceeding assss planned.”
Tarkin smiled, taking her eyes off Anor for a moment, and pictured the throne of the Empire. What is an Empire without an Emperor or an Empress? And it had been so long without one… certainly she could do a better job than any of the others. Certainly better than that doddering old fool Pellaeon.
True, Parr had been a fantastic captain, a loyal officer, and a skilled lover, but all these things could be replaced. The Empress of the Imperial Remnant could not be.
And once she had the Remnant under her control… the rest of the Galaxy would soon follow.
“There isss something elsssse,” Amor added. “It isss time for a direct attack.”
“On the New Republic?” Tarkin frowned. “You’re not serious.” She paused, waiting for Anor to clarify or deny her question, but he said nothing. “Pellaeon will never allow it.”
“I have a gift for you.” Anor placed a small holoprojector on the table, and an image formed over it. Tarkin gasped. She recognized the form in an instant.
“A super star destroyer,” she breathed.
“It isssss the Interrogator.”
Tarkin turned to look directly at Anor. “You’re joking.” Anor didn’t reply, and Tarkin looked back to the hologram of the Interrogator. It disappeared two years ago, when the last of the Emperor’s High Inquisitors was killed. And his personal flagship was being given to her.
“It will ansssswer to you,” Anor said. “Find a crew. And attack a Rebel world on the border of Imperial sssspace.”
Tarkin heard him, but she didn’t look at him. It was the Interrogator. The last of the stygium-coated Super-class Star Destroyers. With that under her command, she could almost take on Pellaeon directly. For a moment, she considered it… but only for a moment. That alone wouldn’t be enough. Not by itself.
She turned back to Anor, but was unsurprised to see that he was gone. Ah, well. He was useful for the time being. But when the time was right, she planned to have the worm arrested and tortured until he spilled every last secret he’d been keeping.
Soon.
The planetary government of Juryin was hit hard by Imperial rule. Under Emperor Palpatine, the world was mined, and the citizens were forced into work camps or were pressed into military service. They chafed for freedom, but due to Imperial strength, they simply didn’t have the power to join the New Republic for many years. Ten years before, aided by the New Republic, they managed to throw off Imperial rule.
Captain Mal La looked down at the tiny world below them. This would be a perfect signal for what Nom Anor wanted.
In theory, La answered to Tarkin. She selected him straight out of the Imperial Academy. He was young, promising, handsome, and everything she wanted in a captain. But she was intended to select Captain La. Anor had arranged everything perfectly. Because La answered to Anor… and beyond that, he answered to the very forces that Anor answered to.
None of the other forces on the vessel were aware of La’s loyalties. Everyone believed that he had been seduced into obeying Tarkin’s every order. Nothing could be further from the truth. She disgusted him, and the idea of lying with such a creature turned his stomach. No. He allowed her to think that she interested him; he allowed her to believe that he was looking forward to a carnal pleasure upon success of his mission. But he would kill her before he would allow that to happen.
The walkers had been unleashed thirty minutes before. Now the shields were dropping. No world can withstand the bombardment of a Super Star Destroyer.
“Captain? The governor is hailing us. He’s asking for terms of his surrender.”
“Give no answer,” La replied. “Open fire. I want no survivors.” His eyes narrow. “Melt their cities into slag.”
And green turbolaser fire began to burn down…
