Tarawa, Kiribati, Central Pacific, Earth
Mahmoud sat with the rest of the captives on the warm, sandy beach behind the alien's electrified fence. Overhead several gulls screamed at the helpless prisoners in vain hope for a free meal. A warm breeze blew in from the nearby lagoon.
The wind carried with it the smell of smoke; the island nation's only police boat slowly burned atop the coral reef that circled the atoll. Mahmoud curled his bare toes in the sand as he watched the alien guards move about outside the enclosure. They were so assured of themselves and their easy victory here that several of them walked about with holstered weapons and hardly glanced at the thousands of prisoners trapped inside their enclosure.
Mahmoud wasn't a native of the island nation, having only arrived in Kiribati a few weeks before the aliens had landed on Earth. He hailed originally from Malaysia so his dark skin had allowed him to blend easily into the native population.
He spent those weeks in prayer and sight-seeing around the small island nation, waiting for orders from his commanders that never came. Two hours ago fate and divine providence delivered him his destiny.
The aliens had swept over the poorly defended island with ease. They came with their quick spacecraft and landed seemingly everywhere at once across the island chain. The few fools who possessed guns had been overwhelmed within moments.
Mahmoud had returned to his hotel room and changed his clothes before going outside and facing east. He had been at his prayers when a pair of the aliens had suddenly been at his side. They asked for his surrender, which he gladly gave. The pair of them put him with a group of islanders being marched towards the lagoon where they were then placed in a long line of people being searched by alien soldiers.
It reminded him of the dozens of airport security checks he had infiltrated over the past decade.
A trio of natives had taken it upon themselves to attack one of the armored alien soldiers. The soldier and his comrades had no trouble pulling the natives off of the endangered alien. What must have been an alien officer arrived shortly afterward and fifteen natives had been pulled out of the line. Mahmoud thanked his ancestors that he hadn't been chosen as those selected were coldly executed in front of everyone as a warning for the other prisoners.
Mahmoud finally reached the security check point. The aliens took his shoes, belt, false passport, and wallet and threw them into a growing pile they had gathered from the prisoners before him. They seemed disappointed that he didn't wear any gold or jewelry, but waved him forward. Another guard gave him an intimate pat down for what Mahmoud assumed was weapons or hidden narcotics. The searching guard never questioned why his pants were unbuttoned and waved him forward into the enclosure.
Close to thirty-thousand prisoners baked in the warm Pacific sun for several hours before the first of several strange craft landed on the beach nearby. Mahmoud hoped this was the deliverance he sought because the heat on his legs was starting to soak his jeans in sweat.
Mahmoud studied the craft; big, tri-wing shuttles with a large dorsal fin in the center of the aircraft's hull. A forward cockpit that would obviously be reserved for the vessel's crew. Mahmoud assumed the craft could hold about seventy-five people but as soon as the guards started packing his fellow prisoners on the first craft Mahmoud could see they were getting at least two hundred or more prisoners packed tightly into each of the shuttles.
Ten shuttles arrived and took off again before it was Mahmoud's turn to board one of the craft. The sun was already descending in the west turning the stark white alien shuttles shades of orange and red. The gate to the enclosure opened and he was led across the sand to the next aircraft. In the waning light he could see the vessel was manned by at least five crewmen. The pilot seemed to look out of his window directly at Mahmoud as he was led underneath the craft.
"Your time is close, my friend." Mahmoud whispered softly.
The alien soldiers pushed and shoved the prisoners aboard the vessel until it was standing room only aboard the craft and then they forced on fifty more prisoners after that. Mahmoud found it difficult to breathe in the tightly confined quarters.
Towards the front of the aircraft a solid-looking metal door separated the prisoners from the crew in the cockpit. Mahmoud wished he were closer. As it was he was along the left side of the craft and only a few people away from one of the shuttle's windows. It's close enough, he told himself.
The aircraft lifted off and there were several startled gasps from the prisoners as the motion from the craft shook the packed mass of prisoners. A woman not far away screamed in terror. Mahmoud wished she would shut up. A few moments later someone near the window yelled out in English that they were in space. Mahmoud tried to turn his body to peer in that direction but could only move an inch or two.
His hands could still reach his waist. That was all that mattered.
Mahmoud closed his eyes and started to pray. As his prayers quietly left his lips he remembered his youth on the streets of Kuala Lumpur where he had seen his older brothers and father go off to Pakistan to fight the Americans.
He had only been fifteen when the recruiter from al-Qaeda had found him and taught him a new way of life. A life dedicated to sacrifice and praise of Allah and his prophet Muhammad. For ten years he had fought against the enemies of God from Pakistan to Afghanistan to Israel, and now the ultimate infidel had arrived from the stars. An alien race of devils that had never heard of the glory of Allah.
Mahmoud's pants felt clammy; the sweat of his legs had mixed with the C-4 plastic explosives that thickly lined the inside of the western-style jeans. The alien guard had felt nothing and hadn't noticed the wires that ran around the button fly of the pants to a small detonator no larger than his thumbnail.
Mahmoud lined the buttons up with his freest hand. He drew in his breath as deeply as he could. With what he felt was the loudest scream of his ending life he pushed his voice outwards.
"Allahu Akbar!"
There were a few gasps around him as people recognized the shout.
Mahmoud snapped the buttons together. Two hundred and seventy three souls and five alien devils were sent to Paradise amongst the stars.
Alpha Hanger, Imperial II-class SD Quill, Equatorial Orbit, Mars
"Getting cold feet, Sir?" Captain Nake poked Yos in the ribs as they strolled through the row of TIE racks to his personal Lambda shuttle.
Fleet Admiral Yos flashed his slyest grin back at his old friend. "You know what I am about to do will be considered high treason back home. I'm basically signing the death warrant of almost all of the inhabitants of Mars and Tarkin's Fist."
"I wouldn't be too worried about it, Aveo. The nearest ISB agent is probably a billion parsecs away." Yos's old friend reassured him.
Both officers wore their finest dress uniforms. The uniforms of the 1st Galactic Empire were the same as the ones that would serve the soon-to-be born 1st Martian Empire. The only change was in Fleet Admiral Yos's own garments. Instead of the Imperial Gray he sported the white uniform of a Grand Admiral of the Empire. Both his and Nake's sleeves were emblazoned with the service year hashes of almost four decades of service to the Imperial and Old Republic's Navy. Yos also wore a host of medals on his chest that dated back to his early combat experiences in the Stark Hyperspace War and on to his faithful service in the Victory Fleet of the Clone Wars.
"Do you think we'll ever see it again, Natan?" Yos asked. Here apart from their crew, the two friends could use their given names freely.
"The Home Galaxy? Honestly. . . No. Maybe our grandyoungling's grandyounglings. Even after we restart Hypermatter production again there still leaves the matter of the Hyperspace Disturbance that separates us from the Old Empire." Nake didn't mention the mystery of how they traveled this far away from the Old Empire in the first place without long ago succumbing to the passage of age and time. No one had answers to that particular enigma yet. Here in the Milky Way they were, and here they would stay. What Yos was about to do today would go a long way toward forming the type of civilization they would create here. "It would take millennium to cross it, and that's only if we figure out which galaxy out of the billions out there is the home we left behind."
"From water we are born, In fire we die, we seed the stars."
"Beautiful Aveo, anyone I've heard of?" Nake asked as they came upon the row of shuttles.
"A clone I met once during the war, one of the Alpha batch if I recall." Yos contemplated for a moment the warrior poet he had met years ago during the Battle of Anaxes.
Ahead of him sat several shuttles humming away as their engines slowly idled. A new platoon of blue-cloaked guards snapped to attention at his approach. The new guards wore the uniform of the Imperial Guardsmen of Palpatine's court, with the exception that they wore the color blue instead of the deep red the Galactic Emperor had preferred. Adapted from the DiploServe troopers that had protected his daughter, the trooper's duties now included the protection and service of the soon-to-be named royal family of Mars. Yos had learned that their new armor had been a mix of plastoid as well as the anti-ballistic armor Moff Kuat had created for the invasion of Earth. Capable of shrugging off blaster bolt and slugthrower fire alike, Yos wondered if anything short of a Jedi's lightsaber could stop one of the menacing warriors.
The unit of Martian Imperial Guardsmen fell into line behind their new commander as he boarded the Lambda with Captain Nake. Once inside they were greeted by several high ranking members of the Star Destroyer's crew who were coming along for the coronation ceremonies. Yos was passed a flute of Carratos Champagne as several of his loyal crew toasted his upcoming reign. The drinks with his colleagues helped to steady his shaky nerves as the shuttle lifted off for the short hop to Culter City.
Out of the shuttle's viewports Yos noticed several of the new TIE/In Interceptors as they took up escort positions around the Lambda as it cruised over the Culter Sea. The large icy body of water below had allegedly grown larger and faster than Moff Culter had expected and the Anoat Moff had recently told Yos that he had thought of renaming it a small ocean. Yos wondered if he would glimpse one of the pods of cloned aiwha and whaladons that had recently been introduced to the large body of water below. He was only slightly disappointed when he didn't.
The shuttle followed the winding Yos River along its course towards the capital of his new Empire. The wide blue ribbon stood out in stark contrast with the red dessert and green agri-combines that dotted this part of Mars, lining both banks of the river below. Small fisheries pulled cloned Dantooine Garfish, Burra Fish, Quekka and Somov Rit catfish from its swirling waters. Large herds of nerf, kaadu, roba, staga, traladon, fambaa and bantha grazed on the newly terraformed plains outside the metropolis. They passed over agricombine sites where hundreds of thousands of earthling captives toiled to raise crops for the beings of Tarkin's Fist, only stopping long enough to watch the passing of his shuttle before guards 'encouraged' them back to their labors.
"Sir, you might have a better vantage point from the cockpit." Captain Nake suggested. The two of them ducked into the crew compartment while the junior officers continued to watch their passage through the hull viewports.
Ahead of them the morning sun was climbing into the sky high above Culter City. The Ares Vallis spread out for dozen of kilometers in every direction. Almost all of it was filled with the colossal red pourstone skyscrapers of the capital. Above the city skyhooks shot off fireworks and other pyrotechnics to announce his arrival to the populace. The pilot slowed the craft to a crawl and dropped his altitude to only a thousand meters over the river. They passed between the soaring buildings of the city and Yos noted hundreds of beings waving and celebrating on the rooftops and balconies they passed.
Below him, the city had been pushed back from the shore of the river and transformed into an enormous, inter-city park that was filled with beings of all species found on Mars. It had been no surprise when he had scheduled his coronation to occur on Empire Day, or what would soon be renamed Mars Day. It was already a work holiday and so millions had turned out to witness the birth of their new Empire.
Yos wished he could have foregone all of this. All this pomp and circumstance was for politicians, not a self-respecting military officer such as himself. The truth was that he sometimes wished he was running the war on Earth instead of delegating it to Moff Seco. Instead he was encouraged to focus on the spread of his fledgling Empire beyond the local system and serving the beings who had come along with Tarkin's Fist during the 'big jump'. He contemplated the massive crowds of beings cheering his name as he soared towards Tarkin Square and its gargantuan holoprojector screens and reminded himself that it was for the beings around him that he was doing this.
There was no real difference between the 1st Galactic Empire and the one they were building here on Mars. All of the institutions were the same, just with new names. For two years the beings of Tarkin's Fist had felt adrift and lost far away from the familiarity of the Home Galaxy. The birth of the 1st Martian Empire gave his beings a new sense of identity and purpose. The successful invasion and conflict with the treacherous race of near-humans on Earth had united the beings of Mars in a way no political, religious, or economical means could have.
His Lambda glided to a stop behind the incomplete Imperial Martian Palace. Its large Civil-Industrial I-C2 droids were powered down from construction duties for the day's ceremonies. The crowds packed into Tarkin Square were able to see his shuttle land via the HoloNews coverage on the screens above them. Even more spectators were stuffed behind guardrails around the stoic formation of Imperial troops assembled in front of the soaring Tarkin Tower.
Yos and his entourage were greeted by a Rodian Master-of-Ceremonies who guided him into a waiting repulsor limousine 8800. An entire legion of civilians and troopers were insuring the coronation went off without a hitch. A heavy police escort of the Culter City Guard in their red plastoid stormtrooper armor lined the parade route down the Avenue of Empress Teta's Fields, keeping the surging mobs at bay with their Merr-Sonn taser staves. Blue Imperial Guardsmen packed his limousine and rode escort in several other armored repulsor craft and BARC speeders. High above the street level Culter City Guard snipers scanned the crowds with their DC-15x sniper blaster rifles for any sign of a threat.
The motorcade took a half hour to travel the four kilometer route, and the noise of the cheering crowds was deafening, even through the windows of his armored repulsercraft. Finally the limousine slowed to a stop in front of the steps leading up to Tarkin's Tower. A thousand Imperial officers in their finest dress uniforms stood at attention in front of the edifice with a single aisle splitting the formation in two. His Martian Guardsmen lined both sides giving him a secured corridor to approach the reviewing stand that had been erected for the day's ceremonies atop the stairs.
As Fleet Admiral Yos stepped out of the vehicle he was greeted by the bright Martian Sun and the roar of millions of beings chanting his name. The Imperial March blared from hundreds of voice amplifiers hidden above the square. The Guardsman holding his door leaned closer. "Ready, my Lord?"
"As I'll ever be."
Yos took his first step forward as the formation of officers turned and gave the Imperial salute as he passed. Yos wondered how they had heard the order over the roar of the civilian crowd that surrounded them. He barely heard when the Imperial March became the medley 'The Throne Room', which was the anthem of his home planet, Denon.
Yos looked ahead at the faces of those he recognized on the reviewing stand. It was a virtual 'who's who' of VIPs of Tarkin's Fist. Closest to the center of the stage stood the Moffs Kuat and Culter, as well as Seco, who had just arrived back from the war on Earth this morning. On one side of the stage Captain Nake stood with several high ranking captains as well as the three Admirals of each of his Moffs' Sector Fleets; Neptu, Hadrian, and Bacara. Yos noted the absence of any General officers from the Martian Army but excused it as they were all involved in ground operations on Earth at the moment.
Behind the Moffs stood the three Directors of his ingenious Bureau of Operations; Captains Dual, Yutu, and Charge, who were the ones who really ran Tarkin's Fist's daily operations. A powerful trio, whom Yos had been assured were firmly under his command.
On the other half of the stage stood the civilian representation of Culter City; the Mayor, a female Selkath whose name Yos could never recall, as well as her multi-specied city council. Several robed figures representing some of the churches of Culter City; the Correllian, Ithorian, B'omarr Order, Skakoan, Weequay, Kuati and Yinchorri religious leaders were just a few of the faiths that awaited his approach with smiles and patience. It didn't feel right that there wasn't a Jedi presence to bless the ceremony as well. Their touch had guided the Home Galaxy for so long that it felt somehow lacking not to have one around for a coronation. But as far as Yos knew there were no Jedi with Tarkin's Fist.
In the center of them all stood the jewel of his new empire, Phasma. She looked regal in a delicate, blue gown decorated with expensive Krayt Dragon pearls. She wore her hair in unique, semi-crescent shaped buns on the side of her head. She flashed her father a proud yet humble smile as he reached the bottom of the steps. She was the mirror image of her mother. The face that watched him was the same as the one that he had fallen in love with as a Naval Officer during the Clone Wars from images of her broadcast on the HoloNet.
When he spoke with her before the ceremony Phasma had told him that she had selected the colors of her gown to represent her birthplace of Subterrel. It struck him as odd, considering he had told her hundreds of times that she had been born on the Quill while in orbit around the mining planet, but he hadn't had the time to inquire further. What she didn't know was that she had been decanted from a Kaminoan cloning vat on the small asteroid of Polis Massa, shortly after the end of the Clone Wars.
Not only would that secret have doomed her career in the old Imperial Navy, but now it would have destroyed any chance of her becoming Empress of Mars and him leaving a Yos Dynasty after his own passing. He had no doubts that he loved his daughter and that she loved him. He would do whatever it took to protect that love, even if that involved climbing these stairs and becoming an Emperor to rival Palpatine.
In her hands, atop a red velvet cushion, rested a simple aurodium crown circled with firegems with a large glowing, red Tandgor gem in its center. A bejeweled scepter with a sphere on one end glowing with iridescent red light rested next to it. These were the newly created symbols of his office.
Yos reached the top of the steps and took a knee before the three Imperial Moffs. They stood shoulder to shoulder as they faced their new monarch. He had already guaranteed that each of them could retain the rank of Moff and that they and their families would have high titles and ranks within the new nobility of the Martian higher class. He hoped he had done enough to appease them, as each was a power in their own right in the Sol System.
Each of the Imperial Governors set a hand on Yos's head and shoulders. Each of them had hidden voice-throwers attached to their throats for amplified sound. Culter spoke first, "Do you vow to provide for the growth and expansion of the Martian Empire?"
"Aye, I so vow." His words echoed across the hushed crowds packed in Tarkin's Square. It was an easy vow. Had he not already launched a war of conquest against the only other inhabited planet in the local system? Other plans were already in motion that would ensure for the rapid expansion of his new Empire.
Seco was next, "Do you vow to provide for the common defense and safety of the beings of Mars?"
"Aye, I so vow." With the rising levels of destruction being inflicted upon their neighboring planet and the astronomical distance back to the 1st Galactic Empire it was doubtful that a credible threat would arise against Mars anytime soon.
Kuat's turn came last. "Do you vow to strive for excellence and achievement in all areas and to keep the beings of Mars ahead of all others?"
"Aye, I so vow." Tarkin's Fist had arrived on Mars with so many of the top minds in their fields that Yos was surprised if it hadn't set the Old Empire back a century for discoveries of their own. They had been chartered to be far in advance of any rival when they emerged from the maw, and that hadn't stopped since they settled on Mars.
The three Moffs spoke in unison as his daughter handed Seco the bejeweled crown, "We crown you Aveo Yos the 1st Emperor Regent of the Martian Empire." The three governors took the crown and laid it upon his head. The weight was hardly noticeable.
With those three vows he had taken complete control of Mars and ensured his lineage would continue to lead in the years to follow. Palpatine's Declaration of New Order had been no different; it had come out and declared that things were the same and the Empire was already in place. Yos's vows told the beings of Mars that he was now fully responsible for them, and that together they could build something truly astounding.
Yos stood and turned to face the crowd. The mob roared in ecstasy over their new leader and their own exalted status in the new Empire. From slaves to first citizens of Mars within two standard years was enough to make any being cheer their heart out. Confetti rained down from the roofs of skyscrapers lining the square and fireworks burst high above while artillery around the city shot off salutes to their new Emperor.
Yos bathed in the adoration for a moment, soaking it all in. Then he turned and found his daughter nearby, wearing a strangely forced smile. How her features reminded him of her mother's beauty. He waved her over and she came readily enough and kissed him on the cheek. He grinned and took one of her hands and raised it into the air. "May I present Princess Phasma, heir to the throne of Mars."
If he thought the crowd went nuts over his coronation, they completely lost themselves as the Princess was introduced. Stormtroopers and Culter City Guardsmen looked nervously at the reveling crowd they were attempting to hold back.
Yos had intended on making a speech and tried fruitlessly several times to begin, but the crowd had come here to celebrate and they were already well underway. Yos turned to the Master of Ceremonies and indicated that the next step of the ceremony should commence. The green Rodian spoke quickly into a hand held comlink.
A minute later fifty of the new TIE/In Interceptors raced over the square at several times the speed of sound. The sonic booms left in the wake of their passing startled the crowd from their revels and their heads turned to the sky. High above the city the Quill was dropping from orbit to symbolize the awesomeness of the new Emperor's power. The Imperial-II class Star Destroyer quickly came to rest several kilometers above the red city.
Thunder drums beat from down the Avenue of Empress Teta's Fields, indicating the start of the military procession. A pair of AT-ATs led the march as their heavy footfalls shook the crowds lining the park strewn boulevard. Behind them came thousands of marching stormtroopers in gleaming, white plastoid armor. Their perfectly timed march echoed over the crowd. Yos was impressed; the beings under that armor were new recruits and Imperial Marines usually stationed aboard the Star Destroyers of the fleet. Most of the actual troopers that made up the Stormtrooper Corps were fighting on far away Earth in much different armor systems than the blaster resistant ones these troopers sported.
The Interceptors returned and flew several formations over the crowds. Here Yos knew also that most of the pilots involved in this show were new recruits from the Martian Imperial Academy, flying fighters that were more advanced than those his best pilots were dog-fighting in over the Earth. Yos hoped none of the noobs collided into one another and came crashing down on the heads of the onlookers below.
Next came thousands of Naval officers and sailors released from the Quill and several of the orbiting frigates for the parade. Their gray uniforms certainly got the attention of several pretty females in the crowds who sent catcalls and whistles toward the navy men. Yos wondered what Palpatine would have thought of all the different species that made up those ranks as they passed by his reviewing stand. Well, what could old Palps do about it anyways? He asked himself. Not a sithspawn thing, he easily answered. Here on Mars the concept of High Human Culture was dead and buried.
The parade continued with several examples of armored vehicles and walkers passing by in neat formation, followed by a large contingent of the red-suited Culter City Guard. Several prominent city officials, a few HoloDrama stars, Culter City's two limmie teams, and a famous podracer waved to the crowds from atop dozens of giant floats that truly floated on repulsor lifts down the elegant boulevard.
Younglings across the square squealed as giant helium filled balloons were towed into the square. The balloons were in the shape of a friendly rodent and his friends that had been the subject of several popular animated HoloDramas that had come from the Earth and been cleared by intelligence as non-propaganda from the enemy.
He looked over at his twelve year old daughter, so recently rescued from captivity on Earth. Her expression seemed to be etched in stone as she watched the parade. He wondered what she would have been like if he hadn't pushed her so hard to succeed, if he had provided her with a normal childhood. The crown upon his head as well as the small diadem she wore declared for all to see that the opportunity for a normal father-daughter relationship had long passed both of them by.
The HoloNews had changed her into the public face of Mars. Paparazzi now dogged her every move. Yos hoped he would have more time to spend with her now that they were the Royal Family but he was afraid that his duties might double or triple now that he wore the crown. One thing was sure; he would be damned if she ever set foot on the treacherous Earth again.
The final part of the parade was made up of several Cathar Parade Skiffs packed full of younglings dressed in the new uniforms of the Martian Youth. Yos wondered how long it would be before their ranks were filled with the products coming out of Operation Stork. The younglings carried huge gray banners with them, each bearing the Imperial Crest of the 1st Galactic Empire. The only difference was the addition of a large red circle in the middle of the symbol representing the red planet of Mars. It reminded Yos of a rising sun. Across the square hundreds of pennants were suddenly lowered and the new flag of the Martian Empire was raised in their place.
Yos quietly chuckled to himself. So much had changed on the surface but underneath it all it still remained the Old Empire. Some things would change for the better; he wasn't about to reinstate a Martian Senate after the ineptitude of the Imperial one. From what he had seen there hadn't been a strong cry by the populace for one either. The weak examples of oddly named Congresses and Parliaments on Earth showed further proof he was right. Power here on Mars would stay in the hands of the elite. Sure, he would have free trade and an open market so that anyone could rise in status, but control would stay within his family if he had any say in it, and he did.
The three biggest threats to that claim stood alongside him in the reviewing stand. The Moffs smiled for the crowds and waved at onlookers and well-wishers but remained stiff and cold whenever they had to address each other. Yos studied his Moffs for a few moments and noticed that Kuat and Seco never said a word to each other directly while Culter seemed to act as an intermediary with whom the other two seemed to get along. Yos wondered what else he could do to flame the animosity between the two to take their focus away from any plots they might have against him.
Culter himself had been easy enough to distract. All his sources said the Anoat Moff had no desire to grab more power for himself. For his loyalty Yos had assigned two frigates to Culter's expansionist terraforming efforts. It seemed Earth 2, or Venus as the earthlings called it, would be the first colony of Mars. The quiet Moff had already secretly, with Yos's approval, filled a colony ship with two hundred Skakoan and Morseerian scientists and engineers and sent them off to Earth 2 with terraforming equipment and two thousand clones of their species still in their cloning vats aboard the first colony starship built in the orbiting KDY Drive Yards somewhere in orbit above them.
The new clones had been a surprise and when he had ordered Captain Yutu to investigate he had discovered that the Anoat Moff had squirreled away ten Kamino cloners aboard his flagship before the 'big jump'. A dangerous move considering how many of his Anoat fleet had turned out to be clones themselves. He could see the merit in clone colonists that would be loyal to the Empire. However, the presence of the Kaminoans had remained a closely guarded secret, especially after he had banned the practice of cloning workers on Mars in favor of cheaper slaves from Earth.
Seco was the easiest to figure out. The Ploo Moff wanted conquest and the glory that came along with it. Yos had provided it for him in spades. Seco was the so-called Theater Commander of all military forces aligned against the Earth. His troops were securing victory after victory as they pressed on into the interior away from their initial landing sites.
As long as Seco was kept busy with the earthlings he could be kept in check. Besides, every captive Seco's troopers took in Operations Piper and Stork strengthened Yos's own power here on Mars while weakening the Earth's defenses and kept Seco's stormtroopers occupied. The fact that those two operations strengthened Culter and Kuat as well bothered Yos not in the least.
Keeping the so-called Kuat of Kuat busy was another matter. The Kuati male was always occupied with some project or another. On clear nights you could make out the gigantic keel of the next generation of warships the Kuat was constructing in orbit at his mobile drive yard. New surgeries and medical practices Kuantus had discovered from the earthlings had surprised everyone and launched a baby boom amongst most of the alien species of Tarkin's Fist. New innovations in botany, construction, engineering, armor systems, flight systems, or ship design came out of Kuat's Research facilities and orbital laboratory vessels every standard day.
Kuat really was the living embodiment of Grand Moff Tarkin's dream of a Utopian society built upon achievement. Yos smiled to himself, knowing that his coronation as the Emperor of Mars was the perversion of that dream. Well, his old friend Tarkin was possibly trillions of parsecs away and perhaps calling for them at that very moment. That call would never reach Mars. Even if it could he wasn't sure if he could bring himself to answer it anymore.
A steward carrying a tray of Corellian champagne flutes approached the dignitaries in the review box. The new Emperor and his three Martian Moffs each took one.
Yos raised his glass high, "Gentlebeings, to the Empire."
"Long live the Emperor!" They echoed. The celebratory roar of millions of beings drowned out whatever each of those Moffs was mumbling under their breath.