Galaxies Apart
Nine
Coruscant. Imperial Center. Whatever you called it – Thrawn preferred the original title, though he would be unlikely to admit as much to his host later – there was little doubt that the planet through whose atmosphere his shuttle was currently descending was one of the true wonders of the galaxy.
There were five major trade routes circumnavigating the known worlds, and only in one planet did all of them intersect. Only one planet had been given the hyperspace co-ordinates of 0,0,0.
Only one planet had an estimated population of in excess of one trillion sentient beings. Thrawn shook his head in wonder. Coruscant wasn't a planet. It was an entire galaxy in microcosm – except that the micro wasn't all that small, in this case. Little wonder the Emperor had begun the Empire here.
Thrawn readied himself as his shuttle began the docking procedure for a graceful touchdown on the roof of the Palace itself.
The chatter of password and counter-password reached his sharp ears. He paid little attention to the ins and outs of petty Imperial security these days.
After all…when he had Rukh by his side, what need he fear?
His pet Noghri, five feet of unassuming killer, sat opposite him in the shuttle. Rukh had been top of his class in all aspects of the Noghri training scheme. Vader, grand overseer of the Noghri 'project', had given him to Thrawn as a gift.
The Grand Admiral smiled to think of that. He expected that Darth would either think him intimidated by a bodyguard so ruthlessly efficient or unnerved at a present of a personal killer from a man who would be happy to see him dead.
"Thank you," Thrawn had said, politely. Vader's silence had been deafening.
"Docking begins in ten seconds, Grand Admiral," his pilot informed him.
"Fine, Commander. My compliments on a steady landing."
"Thank you, sir," the pilot said mournfully. Thrawn had found that prophetic compliments were an extremely effective way of motivating those under his command.
The shuttle's engines throttled down to barely three percent power, and the sturdy little transport glided downward through the night sky of Coruscant. A myriad of lights and flickering holo-emitters blended with the huge silhouettes of nearby high-rises.
A few kilometres away the Imperial Museum, housing the largest collection of relics in the galaxy, was no more than an irregular blackness against the cityscape. To his left Thrawn could discern the holding cells where early in his career he'd been in charge of eradicating as many Jedi as possible. Below him, somewhere, a huge network of tunnels slalomed through the metropolis.
He'd heard stories of the secrets of the Imperial Palace; indeed, the last time he'd been here he'd been the guest of the Emperor himself at his promotion gala for his unprecedented rapid rise to the rank of Grand Admiral.
That night Palpatine had told him stories of politics that had shaped countless nations, and revealed his plans for the production of the Death Stars.
He'd hadn't been surprised to see Tarkin given the Death Star. Tarkin had played the game for long enough. But that was then. Since that time, Thrawn had carved his name in Imperial myth through triumphs out on the Rim – successes, he knew, that had earned him an underground following in the Imperial hierarchy.
Even Thrawn, isolated in the Outer territories as he had been, had heard the rumours of a coup to oust Vader being all but inevitable. He knew full well that in the aftermath of such a bloodbath the opportunity was there to climb the rankings.
The question was – was he ready to take it?
The shuttle settled. Thrawn strode purposefully down the ramp as soon as it extended.
"Grand Admiral," another faceless aide saluted him reverentially. "An honour indeed. This way, sir," and with that, the landing party parted smoothly to allow him to pass.
The corridors of power, Thrawn thought. He wondered how many of his peers had passed down these narrow, winding paths in the last few decades, knowing they were about to meet the Emperor.
He had great admiration for the way Palpatine had spun the mythos around himself so completely that his entire military were focussed on the race for second place. No-one, so far as he knew, had even considered deposing Palpatine himself.
He glanced for a second at Rukh, keeping pace as usual. The Noghri never failed to spring new surprises in terms of their ability, true, but he would doubt if even the best assassins and commandos the Empire had ever known could pull off such a job.
Thrawn entered the Throne Room.
It was typical of the grandiose nonsense the Empire was so fond of. Thirty metres long and just twelve metres wide-a trick he'd seen before in such places, designed to pull the beholder's eyes to the end of the room and, inevitably, the occupant of the throne.
Thrawn kept his eyes moving as he continued walking. There was no shortage of artwork to catch his connoisseurs eye…dead animals scattered, a deceased member of some unfortunate race dangling over there, and what looked like the remains of an X-Wing in the far corner.
A motif of death. He kept his artistic opinion hidden.
"Grand Admiral Thrawn," the aide announced him to the cowled figure seated on the Throne itself.
"A pleasure to see you again," Palpatine said, his pale features shining out from the dark blue of his robe. "Please," he added, and an equally white hand indicated a resplendent chair opposite his own.
"Of course, my Lord," Thrawn nodded, and sat.
"You have a reputation," Palpatine began, typically direct, "as an intelligent man. It is one well deserved, I am sure."
"I am fortunate to enjoy my Lord's favour," Thrawn returned cautiously.
Palpatine's sunken face pulled tight in a ghastly smile. "Then why," he said softly, "should I be made to do all the work in this meeting, Grand Admiral? Why don't you tell me what I'm going to say."
Thrawn wondered if this was the time to pontificate. He had no doubt others in this position would have disclaimed their right to place words in their ruler's mouth.
That wasn't his style.
"I am here for you to submit a proposal for my consideration. Given my strengths, it is of course a military proposal, with tactical aspects, which leads me to believe that you have a problem, and think that I might be your solution to that problem. Given the recent Fleet reports I would guess that the problem lies with our largest rivals, the Ssi-ruuk Imperium. If I understand correctly, they have resisted all of our attempted incursions into their territory with deadly force. I presume you wish me to try to reverse this trend."
The Emperor smiled.
"I should know better than to test you," he nodded to Thrawn, "your battle statistics are no fluke, Grand Admiral. Without doubt you're the best kept secret the Empire has at its disposal…and an asset I intend to make full use of against those vile reptiles and their repulsive Imperium."
"I have made my fair share of mistakes, I can assure you."
"Yes," Palpatine agreed readily, "not being born human the worst of them," and he fixed Thrawn with a glare, "but these are changing times, are they not? The Empire is too large for humans alone to rule."
Now this was surprising. Palpatine had practically invented the anti-alien prejudices of the Empire. Thrawn was able to recognise an old-fashioned bigot when he saw one. He wondered why Palpatine was lying.
"Non-humans need better integration into the Empire," Palpatine went on, "but we need a role model for them, Grand Admiral, someone for them to idolise. I want that someone to be you."
"I…am flattered," Thrawn replied, his mind turning this over and over. Apparently the rumours of serious strife at the very top of the tree had some basis in reality. The Emperor seemed a changed man since their last meeting. On that occasion Thrawn had felt that he was no more than a mildly amusing novelty in a cage.
Now he detected no such vibes of invincibility from the old man. Now he detected simply age, and worry.
"I will remove you from your current assignment and placing you directly in the front line for the coming war against the Ssi-ruuk."
Thrawn nodded. "That large a challenge I would relish," he said, meaning every word.
Palpatine paused. "There are some," the Emperor hissed in distaste, leaning forward, "who consider our current Fleet numbers as satisfactory. Can you believe that? There are some who would happily have us stop military construction now and consolidate the territory we currently own."
"You don't hold the same opinion," Thrawn supplied.
"The galaxy needs order, Grand Admiral, whether it realises it or not. The Empire can supply it."
"We are stretched thin, my Lord," Thrawn pointed out mildly. "There are only so many worlds we can police."
Palpatine seemed to ignore this. "The Victory Day celebrations are almost upon us. For the past two years Empire has unveiled its newest technologies at the accompanying Regatta – I'm sure you've seen the holo-recordings."
"Of course," Thrawn confirmed. New ships were unveiled at the Regatta for two reasons; firstly because, since its inception after the Battle of Yavin IV, it was the most prestigious event in the Imperial calendar and, secondly and more importantly, security was all but guaranteed with the presence of the rest of the Imperial Fleet nearby.
"This year's event will be the biggest yet," Palpatine promised. "Our new attraction is finally ready. You."
"Me?"
"Yes," Palpatine confirmed. "You will have the honour, Fleet Admiral Thrawn, of being commanding officer of the most powerful ship in the galaxy – a second Death Star, Palpatine, with a weapons system twice as powerful as the original. You will lead your ships into Ssi-ruuvi space and complete the next phase in the expansion of the Empire."
His pale face glowed with fervour. To Thrawn it looked like insanity, and that was his biggest mistake of all.
"What do you say, Fleet Admiral?"
This is wrong. This is crazy. Thrawn was a master tactician, a peerless commander at pulling victories from the most unlikely of situations, at winning despite the odds. To give him the keys to a weapon as powerful as a Death Star – which could be commanded by a complete moron and still pulverise its way to victory – made no sense.
"Thank you, my Lord," Thrawn said. For whatever reason, Palpatine had just made him the most powerful man in the Empire. He wasn't about to say no.
"Palpatine's energy shield is the largest and strongest protective barrier ever to be constructed. Nothing will stop you."
"Short of another Death Star," Thrawn replied.
Palpatine's expression hardened. "That is hardly likely to be of concern."
"Of course not," Thrawn said smoothly. He had seen it, for a fleeting moment – that flicker on Palpatine's face. "Thank you, my Lord."
Palpatine smiled again. "Now, Grand Admiral, all you have to do is go to Sluis Van and collect your prize…"