Star Wars Infinities: The Warrior
By Christopher W. Blaine (darth_yoshi@yahoo.com)
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by George Lucas and are used herein without permission for fan-related, non-profit entertainment purposes only. This original work of fiction is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine and may not be reproduced in part or as a whole without the express permission of the author.
CHAPTER 19
"Emperor Palpatine, what a pleasure to hear from you," Tarkin remarked jovially. The life-sized hologram of the Emperor betrayed nothing, no sign of any emotion but Tarkin could swear he suddenly felt something clod reach around his throat.
"You seem to have elevated your status; I didn't realize that we were so familiar with each other that you do not have to address me by my proper title." The hologram fizzled slightly and went out of focus and Tarkin caught a brief glimpse of a flash of light behind the Emperor. The storms must be raging on Imperial Center he thought.
"My status is something I would like to discuss at another time, my lord," Tarkin said as he checked his fingernails. "I am quite busy right now putting down a rebellion."
The Emperor smiled. "I am sending my apprentice, Darth Deceptra, to take control of the operations. You are to return to Imperial Center."
Tarkin raised a single eyebrow. "Indeed."
He thought for a moment of what he should say next for this was a moment in history. Here he was, standing on the edge of greatness and he couldn't think of anything memorable.
His entire career, all of his dealings and manipulations, had been leading to this moment. From his most humble beginnings as a conservative senator of the Old Republic, Tarkin had believed that only he had the vision and the will to shape the galaxy. By himself, he would never have been able to do it and that was his greatest talent. Tarkin understood how to use any and all resources whether they were battle stations or old withered Sith sorcerers.
The Death Star was his and with it he had enforced his Tarkin Doctrine of rule through fear. The Emperor had tried it, but he could only kill one person at a time. Tarkin could lay waste to entire star systems.
With the exception of the 181st TIE Interceptor Squadron under the command of Baron Fel, Tarkin had managed to staff the Death Star with officers whose loyalty was to him and him alone. The star fleet outside on picket duty in the rebellious Corellian system was also handpicked. In effect, Tarkin had his own military and his own portable planet.
"I sense a change in you, Tarkin, and I have to say I do not think it is a change for the better," the Emperor said, his tone low and ominous. The effect was lost on Tarkin who was slowly becoming drunk on his own power. "I demand that you release Baron Fel immediately."
"No."
"You dare to defy me?" the Emperor spat out. His eyes bulged out as he sought to control his temper. Tarkin could have sworn some of the objects on his desk were starting to shake.
"I dare more than that," Tarkin told him as he stood up. He stepped up to the hologram and put his hands behind his back, preparing to lecture his former superior. "Like the Old Republic and the Jedi before you, you have become complacent in your power. You are not fit to rule in my opinion. You know nothing of military matters, you consult astrologers and spoon-benders; you are a shriveled fruit, a husk of the man you once were."
"And you are an arrogant fool if you think that technological terror you have under your command can surpass the power of the Force," the Emperor reminded him. "You have forgotten that my loyal apprentice is onboard; the Emperor's Fist is mine to command."
"The boy? You allowed him to be trained by your half-human whore. I remember Darth Maul, Palpatine, and Luke Skywalker fails to meet the comparison." Tarkin threw his head back and started laughing. "You have no apprentice; you have a snot-nosed Jedi padawan! He will be dead within the hour, I assure you. After that, I intend to deal with this small rebellion and then…"
"Then what, Tarkin? Tell me, how will you chose to die?" the Emperor asked.
"Oh, no, I doubt very much I'm going to die, but if I were you, I wouldn't be making any long term plans."
The Emperor laughed this time. "You are about to find out what pain is, Governor Tarkin…"
Tarkin cut the transmission off and harrumphed. His top aide cleared his throat and wiped his sweating brow with a cloth. "I suppose the die is cast," the aide said.
The lord of the Death Star smiled at the irony. His aide had something to say to mark the occasion. An intelligent man, he had been selected because he not only knew his place, but he wasn't afraid to speak his mind. Tarkin could always find someone to agree with him, but it was hard to find people who would be honest. "You have something to say, Colonel Madine?"
The officer scratched his red beard, a rare commodity in the Imperial military. "The Emperor will immediately send for the Outer Regions Fleet to protect Imperial Center."
Tarkin nodded and moved over to a giant viewscreen and pressed a button. A two-dimensional representation of the galaxy came up with the various major Imperial fleets highlighted. "With the destruction of Chandrilla in the same quadrant as Imperial Center, the only military corridor open is through Yaga Minor."
"We can beat Thrawn to Imperial Center, but…"
"We leave Corellia in open rebellion. Garm Bel Iblis could start to fortify the entire system." Tarkin rubbed his chin, considering his options and at the same time, trying to decide the best way to announce his plans to his loyal forces. "The there are the smaller fleets."
"True. Time will tell which side they will take. If enough of them pledge loyalty to you then there will be no need to leave Corellia without an occupying force." Colonel Madine then walked over and tapped the planet marked Endor. "The second battle station based on the Death Star design is being fabricated here. We can't forget that."
Tarkin had hoped for a little more time, but with Darth Deceptra on her way, he needed to act fast. "You secure the Endor facility," Tarkin said finally.
Madine looked genuinely shocked. "Me? What about Admiral Zaarin?" The Admiral was currently heading up the Imperial star fighter corps and was on detached assignment to Seinar Fleet Systems, the creators of the TIE fighter. "He would garner more respect."
"Because of your rank? I'm promoting you to general," Tarkin responded. "No, Zaarin is too self-absorbed in his pet projects. He won't care who is in charge so long as he gets to play with his toys." Another aide entered and immediately moved over to the hologram controls to set it up for general broadcast.
As the aide started the system up, the Emperor's image appeared again. This time, however, he wasn't addressing Tarkin."…Announce that Grand Moff Tarkin has taken illegal control of the Corellian system. He is acting without my authority and is therefore in rebellion against the government. I declare that Governor Tarkin and any officers loyal to him are to be executed on sight and direct all loyal Imperial forces to resist and pursue these traitors with all due haste."
The message started over again and the aide shrugged. "It will take some time to slice into the signal."
Tarkin told him to carry on; the address would have to wait. "Governor, about Luke Skywalker?" Madine asked.
"There's been no word of his escape from the detention area?"
"No, sir; he, Solo and Fel are still in their cells." Madine paused for a moment. "There is no proof that Fel sent any word of our attack on Chandrilla to Corellia. More than likely, there are Rebel agents intermingled with our own forces."
"Nothing we can do about that now and it doesn't matter," Tarkin said as he sat back down at his desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a small blaster and gun belt. He would have to be armed now because you never knew if the Emperor's Crimson Guardsmen had an assassin waiting around the corner. "The idea was to get the 181st locked up or dead."
"Most of them are dead with the exception of a few techs who had no love for Fel," Madine responded. He turned to once again regard the map. "I'm still concerned about Harkov."
Tarkin agreed. Admiral Harkov was an ambitious man who had never been particularly fond of Tarkin. He was a problem because the very first of the Super-Class star destroyers, the Executor, had been placed under his command. The Death Star was powerful and nearly indestructible, but the Executor could be a powerful weapon in its own right. "He's still out over the Mon Calamari system," Tarkin said.
Tarkin had tried to win Harkov over to his side even going so far as to assign his personal valet, a Mon Calamarian named Ackbar, while Harkov maintained a presence over the servant's home world. Ackbar had been Tarkin's favorite slave. "I think he'll side with Palpatine," Madine said.
Snorting, Tarkin disagreed. "I wouldn't be surprised if Harkov joined up with Garm Bel Iblis!" He stood up and put on the pistol belt. "We'll deal with it later. Right now I want you to take the Fifth Fleet to Endor. I'm sure that the remaining forces of the 2nd Fleet can handle this Wedge Antilles and his rabble-rousers." He reached down and pressed a blue button. A voice answered back that they were the officer in charge of the detention area where the members of the 181st were being held.
"Execute all of the prisoners immediately," Tarkin ordered. He cut the communication and turned to Madine. "At least one problem is solved."
The officer in charge straightened up and swallowed slowly. He knew who the prisoners were in his area and he was not comfortable at all with his duty. He looked at the naval troopers standing guard and they were shaking in their gray uniforms. None of them expected anything like this when they joined the Imperial navy.
Being assigned to the Death Star, which was actually a separate branch of the military, made you part of the elite. Even the lowest member of the Death Star command structure was a hero in the eyes of the military. But heroes weren't supposed to execute other heroes, were they?
Everyone knew Baron Fel; everyone knew Luke Skywalker. Han Solo was even known on the Death Star, though more for his sabbac playing than anything else. These were the kind of people enlisted and officers were trained to emulate. The officer straightened his uniform and pulled out his own pistol.
He was also trained to follow orders without question and he had long ago thrown his lot in with Tarkin. "You heard the governor," he ordered the troopers.
The two young men looked at each other. They had thrown their lot in with whoever was over them. Enlisted ranks were not trained to think but simply to do. They hesitated for a moment and the officer waved his own weapon in their direction. Both understood the meaning and they pulled out their blasters and set the charges to full.
