Let them hate us, so long as they fear us.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of the characters, locations or events from it . The Empress and Elara are characters of my own creation. I do not profit from this in any way, shape or form.

Author's note: This is a bit different than what I normally write about (Sorry Han and Leia, I felt the pull to the dark side because of a certain space ginger and I can't help myself).

Reviews always welcome :)


Elara DuSat knew no more about the Empress than anyone else on the ship did, her knowledge of her coming from holos she had seen of her, always standing quietly and stoically behind her husband, Emperor Hux, as he delivered speeches or attened formal events. Very little was known about her to most personnel that worked aboard the ship, aside from a short official Order biography that was publicized before she wed the Emperor a year ago. The mystery that surrounded her lead to many rumors and whispers about her in the mess halls, always in hushed tones in fear of a superior officer, or worse, the Emperor himself overhearing. It was a known fact that Emperor Hux was very protective of his wife. One popular rumor stated that a man was once caught saying lewd comments about her and he was never heard from again. Some say he was shipped off to a work camp on the outer rim, others claim Hux personally shoved him into an airlock before hitting the depressurization button.

Elara minded her own business, keeping out of the drama and rumors that occupied most of the staff's free time, rather concentrating on her daily duties. She came from a working class family on Arkanis, her father an Imperial mechanic who was often sent off world on jobs, leaving her mother to raise her brother and her alone for long stretches of time while he was gone on orders. As a child, she would help her mother in the kitchen, picking up skills that as a young adult paid off when her father alerted her to a baking position aboard the Emperor's star destroyer. She jumped at the opportunity, long dreaming of going to school for her trade, knowing her family was unable to afford such a luxury of a higher education for her. The job provided her with a foot in a door she otherwise would have never gotten and a glimpse into a world that she otherwise never known. She dreamed of one day getting a promotion beyond the menial tasks she was usually assigned to, biding her time and cutting her teeth in the industry. Her mind often wandered as she washed the endless stacks of baking trays, glancing over her shoulder to watch the higher up bakers frost lavish cakes or pull steaming loaves of herbed breads from the ovens, wishing one day she could be in their position, creating her own confections that would be served at the Emperor's lavish parties.

Finishing the last stack of dirty dishes Elara was instructed to wash for the day, she reached down into the dirty, soapy water and pulled the drain stopper to empty the sink. Watching the water level fall and swirl down the drain, she wiped her hands dry in her apron, a dull ache in her shoulders from a long day of lifting heavy pans in and out of the sink, scrubbing away the baked on bits and sticky residue from sugary pastries. She was usually the last to leave the kitchen, the normal flurry of activity of the room now quiet as she walked around, checking that machines were cleaned and stored properly for the night. Brushing a few errant crumbs from a counter top, she decided the kitchen was clean enough for the night. Pulling the strings of the apron around her hips, she removed the soiled item and tossed it into the hamper before stepping out the door, palming the lights off behind her. Ready to head back to her quarters for a quiet night of relaxation, she hardly had expected to be greeted immediately upon leaving the kitchen by none other than the Empress herself.

Elara was stunned, never having seen the Empress so close in person, let alone anywhere near the levels of the ship the kitchen were housed on. The Empress' long dark chestnut hair hung down her back in loose curls that shone in artificial lighting of the hallway. She was dressed in a jet black gown that was adorned with an overlay of delicate lace, the onyx coloring a stark contrast to her pale milky skin. Winged eyeliner rimmed her emerald eyes, her lips painted a dewy rose color that made them appear as though she had just been kissed. Young and beautiful, the Empress exuded a presence that could not be denied that was one of power.

"Good evening, Empress" Elara quickly bowed as gracefully as she could, hardly wishing to make a poor impression as she lowered her head and averted her eyes as she had been taught to do in the presence of any higher ranking official aboard the ship.

"At ease" the Empress responded, her voice surprisingly soft even while speaking formally. The dismissal allowed Elara to stand up straight, folding her hands politely in front of her.

Elara couldn't recall if she had ever even heard the Empress speak before in any of the holos she had seen of her. She was quiet and reserved, usually two steps behind her husband whenever in public, standing politely and patiently as he conducted political business.

"You are Elara DuSat, am I correct?" the Empress asked.

"I am, Empress".

"Please, come along" the Empress instructed as she turned and began down the hall, the black lace train of her dress trailing behind her, almost floating as it skimmed along the dark gray floors of the ship.

Elara stood frozen for a moment, her mind stunned to the fact that the Empress wished for her to follow. She was already a few paces ahead as Elara's body connected the fact that she was still standing in one spot, snapping to attention as her feet quickly skipped a few steps to catch up to her, hardly wishing to anger the Empress by dawdling behind like a disobedient child.

After following her in silence down what seemed an endless maze of hallways aboard the ship Elara hadn't even known existed, the Empress finally stopped in front of an unmarked durasteel door. She raised her palm to the reader, her pale skin a stark contrast to the cold metallic of the walls. The door opened, revealing what appeared to be the Empress' personal office. Elara's breath hitched in her chest as she stepped into the room, wondering why she was brought here. Am I in trouble? Her mind raced, trying to come up with any wrongdoing she might have committed, ending in nothing but unanswered questions of what the Empress could possibly want from her. She glanced around the room, her body stiff with fear as she took in her surroundings. The room was decorated in cold blacks and grays, everything looked expensive and orderly, no touches of warmth or personality to be found anywhere in the room. Sleek glass shelving lined one wall, sparsely filled with the occasional grouping of books. A large window encompassed the far wall, looking out into the blackness of space, distant stars twinkling slowly. A large desk was positioned in the center of the room with two gray chairs placed neatly in front of it. The Empress made her way around the desk to take a seat in her own chair, one that was larger and much more comfortable looking than the rigid ones that were placed for guests.

"Please, sit" the Empress instructed. Elara immediately obeyed, sitting down on the edge of the chair, her body still tense with fear of her surroundings.

"Would you like some caf?" The Empress asked, her voice no longer as authoritative as before. It almost bordered on friendly sounding, which scared Elara even more.

"No, no thank you" Elara managed to stammer. She hardly wanted to be a bother to the Empress, her fingers fidgeting in her lap as they worked a loose thread from her skirt, trying to find any sense of calm in the moment.

"You look nervous, dear" the Empress chided gently "Don't be".

Elara swallowed, her throat dry. Unable to come up with a response, she silently nodded her head in compliance, feeling silly as she did so. She had never been more nervous or scared in her entire life.

The Empress noted Elara's still stiff posture in her chair, hoping she would ease eventually once she knew why she was here. She almost pitied the poor girl that her very presence could have such a terrifying effect on her. She relaxed back in her own seat, crossing her legs as she did so. "I called you here to ask a favor of you. As I'm sure you know, the Emperor's birthday is next week. You are from Arkanis, correct?"

"Yes" Elara managed to splutter in response, wondering what exactly the Empress was getting at with her question. She knew that Emperor Hux hailed from the same home world as she did, granted from very different upbringing than her own.

"Then you are familiar with cheffa cake?"

"Yes, Empress". While Elara had only tasted the cake personally once, she knew cheffa cake was one of Arkanis' most famous desserts, one that took hours to prepare and was only reserved for grand occasions due to the intricacies of making one. The thin layers of cake were separated by a cream filling, often nearing a hundred layers gently placed one by one on top each other to complete the cake. After meticulously layering together the cake and cream filling, the desert was soaked in a caf liquor and covered with a thin glaze of ganache.

"It is the Emperor's favorite. He has been hinting at it for weeks and I was hoping to surprise him at his celebration with a treat from his home world".

"That would be a wonderful gift to him, Empress" Elara replied, silently amused at the thought of the strict, collected Emperor hinting at his wife for such a decadent treat like a child. She began to relax some, realizing that the Empress was not as threatening as she once thought and that she was not in trouble for anything, instead a rare opportunity presenting itself to her. "I will gladly make the Emperor a chaffa cake".

"Much appreciated. Speak to no one of this, I wish for it to remain a surprise, understood?"

"Yes, Empress".

"You are dismissed".

Elara rose from her chair, bowing towards the Empress before turning to leave the room. As she walked thru the maze of hallways of the ship, trying to figure her way back to her quarters, reality sinking in. I'm going to be making the Emperor chaffa cake...how in the seven hells is this not a dream?