The sky was yellow that night, thick and clouded with pollution. Oily grey clouds lingered above her head, belched from the smoke stacks of the factories which were slowly choking her world to death.
When she had been younger the skies of Capital City had been much clearer. One could often see the glittering constellations overhead. Those gorgeous jewels, the scintillating stars which comprised the galaxy, had been the subject of young Maketh's fascination since her earliest days.
Her grandfather had been a spacer, the captain of an old Corellian bulk freighter that would travel up and down the Hydian Way from Bonadan to Imynusoph and a thousand worlds in between. He had experienced enough adventures in his travels to fill up a dozen lifetimes, and as a child she had adored his stories of far off worlds.
But it was not his stories of close encounters with pirates and bounty hunters which intrigued her most. No, it was his tales about the vaunted Core Worlds which attracted her attention. To think that her grandfather, a man of modest means from the Outer Rim Territories should live and work on worlds as prestigious as Alderaan or even Coruscant! To have his ship chartered by Senators, Prime Ministers, Presidents, even Kings! How she had longed to travel to the center of galactic power, and perhaps even one day assume a position of authority herself.
Her mother had complained that the old man's stories were filling the child's head with nonsense, but instead these tails of opulence and opportunity gave the young Tua the drive she needed to succeed. She found herself horribly disappointed with her parents, who were dismally uninteresting people of unassuming backgrounds and moderate tastes, apathetic to the ongoing events which shaped the galaxy. She had detested their lack of vision, and, as most teenagers did, rebelled against her parents by becoming their exact opposite.
This quickly led her to pursue a more cosmopolitan and ambitious lifestyle. Slowly but surely she had managed to ascend up the social ladder, eschewing her humble background and the beings of her former class, who she now considered to be nothing more than slack-jawed fools, good for nothing other than to be led by an intelligent, sophisticated elite.
In other words, by people like her.
The Empire would help her attain a better social standing for herself. Who knew, maybe one day she would be recognized by a Moff for her prestigious work and be promoted to Governor! And then...who knew? Anything was possible. Perhaps, she dreamed, she might one day ascend to the rank of Moff herself!
Moff Tua.
No. Grand Moff Tua. Now that had a certain ring to it.
Such lofty ambitions now tasted like bitter ashes to her.
The stars were gone now, hidden behind a veil of light pollution and smog. And with those stars a distant memory, so too were her hopes for greater glory. The Empire had been a gift from beyond at first, allowing her the power and prestige she had always believed were rightfully her's. But now here she sat under a hostile sky, hands clasped together as she sat in the passenger's seat of a speeder, glancing nervously every now and again at her "chaperone".
Kallus deigned not to look at her, instead focusing on the road as he drove closer and closer to the landing bay.
For now he was her driver. Would he shortly become her executioner?
It was the pointless double talk which really scared her. She knew it was all a lie. So did Kallus. And yet the truth was cloaked in half truths and subtlety. Why persist with this farce?
The speeder came to a halt in front of a small squad of troopers. Would it be death by firing squad, or a simple shot to the back of the head? She wondered. For but an instant the mental image of her being thrown from an airlock into the sun burst to the forefront of her mind.
She felt nauseous. Where were the Rebels?
She emerged from the speeder haltingly, her boots moving as though they were filled with lead.
"If only." She thought ruefully. Part of her wanted to beg and plead for her life there and then, but despite the tremors of fear causing spasms to reverberate through her body, the Minister retained her mental composure (what little was left). She knew instinctively that she still had a part to play, as did Kallus.
And the Rebels. If they even bother to show up. She thought. Could it have all been a lie? Could the Rebels have promised her aid, only to reject her behind her back? She could almost imagine them now on their ship having a good laugh at her expense.
NO. No, they would come. She just had to continue with her attempt at keeping up appearances.
"Thank you Agent Kallus." she said, her fear slipping subtly into the words she spoke. "But, there, there was no need for an escort." She looked about her. There were no possible avenues of escape should she attempt to flee. She would be cut down in a hail of blasterfire if that were to occur. It would be better if she went to the Governor to die. At least then she might die with dignity.
Dignity. A pretty word, she supposed, but right now she didn't feel the least bit dignified.
The appropriate word to describe her emotional state was an unusual hybrid of petrified and barely functional.
"Lord Vader asked me to make sure you reached your shuttle safely." Kallus responded easily, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. How he enjoyed her misery! He probably was chomping at the bit, hoping that Tarkin would give him the honor of killing her himself.
He knew she would try to run otherwise. He had cut her off, leaving only one direction for her to go.
Forward.
"I see." she murmured. Despair washed over her as she sank within herself, pondering what few options she had left.
Where were the Rebels?
"We can't be too careful with security these days." Translation: We don't want you getting any smart ideas Minister, your fate is sealed.
"Yes, I suppose so." This was it.
"HEY!"
As if shocked by lightning, the Imperials turned as one to look behind them.
The Mandalorian girl!
She was saved!
Panic mingled with joy, relief and hope as she ducked behind a stack of shipping crates, out of the way of incoming blaster bolts. "Minister, take cover!" Kallus ordered while drawing his sidearm.
"REBELS" she heard Kallus snarl, his voice twisted with hatred.
From the roof two of her saviors, the boy and the Twi'lek, jumped down and ran to her, covered by a man in Stormtrooper armor. The Jedi, most likely.
"Minister, get to the shuttle! We'll be right behind you!" Bridger said. He was so confident, so alert and aware of his surroundings! How could he be so confident in such a terrifying situation?
With blaster bolts whirring around her the overloaded mind of the Minister was only capable of uttering a single, timid "Right" in acknowledgement.
With all of her strength and energy she sprinted to the shuttle which had once been the beacon of her own doom, now a vessel for her salvation. She was so close! The Jedi and their Rebel friends would whisk her away to safety! She could start over somewhere, somewhere where no one would ever find her.
She had always possessed an ambitious spirit. The Empire may not have allowed her to take her rightful place as a respected leader amongst them, but perhaps she could make something of herself with the Rebels. With her knowledge she would be invaluable. Perhaps she might use that to bargain for a position of authority even. Regardless of what might come, she could salvage this fiasco and come ahead.
Her limbs felt like jelly. Despite her deliverance being at hand, her limbs still shook with terror and threatened to give out. She felt exhausted, she felt dizzy.
The shuttle was so close.
She scaled the ramp and felt relief, she felt the fear subside...
The tremors stopped.
She felt...she felt...
She felt a wave of fire emanating from in front of her.
She felt shrapnel rip through cloth and flesh.
For but an instant, she became one with a small ball of heat and energy, a tiny star much like the ones that had entranced her when she had been young.
She felt flesh melt and organs liquify. She felt hair and clothing burst into flames.
For but a single instant, she felt pure, unrecognizable agony.
The pain consumed her, mind, body and soul.
And then, in the time it took one to blink an eye, Minister Maketh Tua never felt anything ever again.
Ambition's debt was paid in full.
I will be posting a final chapter depicting the aftermath of Minister Tua's demise at some point in the near future, focusing on Kallus and Ezra. My deepest condolences to Mallus shippers everywhere.