THE EPIC CHAPTER 2 - New Game- The Official Visitor

The Empire needed to be perceived as rewarding to those who served it well, owing to the Orson Krennic debacle. "Your aptitude indicates you'll be adequate in this new assignment," Vader had told her before sending her away to the academy for condensed training.

This galaxy isn't going to conquer itself-What a fine piece of propaganda they've crafted here. Her first thought, the first time she tried on her Captain's Imperial uniform.

It was highly effective at impressing upon its owner a sense of purpose, comradery and pride. But it was downright uncomfortable and ironically inclined the wearer to remain sedentary in a controlled climate. The uniforms were time consuming to fasten. They were tailored for snug fit, and with the belt tightly worn ( or they were prone to droop down under the weight of the buckle ) it made it cumbersome to raise your arms. Rebel gear was by far effortless.

In the heat, Eva tugged at her collar then pushed back her blast helmet to wipe her brow. "A block ahead'," one of her security detail reported. She glanced up towards the sky, blotted out by the monochromatic belly of the Star Destroyer. Claustrophobic steel much as far as the eye could see, the low slung sun was beginning to breech its bow. The Lacerate was her command, and its shadow alone was intended to bring results. She hated the amount of energy it used to keep afloat deep within the planet's gravitational pull and wanted it moved out of the atmosphere as soon as feasible. Her numbers that month would be dismal.

Then her gaze settled back down to the very dense, very lived in city. I was to have the placid star systems. Now look at this. She wasn't supposed to see much action, but someone along the way hadn't seen the memo and thought her cultural knowledge equated to cultural sensitivity. She would serve well stationed over Cenigal-1.

This wasn't her war on the Jaanue Naya. She wasn't the Imperial negotiator playing hard ball. She wasn't the Imperial general who strategized the ambush on a resistance leader's home, right next to an outdoor market. Her duty was to transport them there. But she was welcome to watch on—and guilty by association.

Eva passed through the market district too idly for the efficient troops, while she studied the untypically homogenous inhabitants and pock marked architecture like a tourist. In her fleeting spare time she had already consumed volumes on the culture. She was both disgusted with the place and fascinated by it. Exotic and filthy.

The late afternoon winds picked up from grassy plains beyond the city's edge, and swirled dust throughout the unpaved alley. The breeze carried the scents of burning armaments (or buildings- it was all still vague to her) and incense being set out to mourn the dead.

Disgust quickly melded into heartbreaking dismay. She thought she was prepared, but it took all of her will to force her face into a blank. Torn market canopies. Dwellings reduced to rubble. The little limbs.

She would not bury her head. She would make herself witness until her sight blurred and she just stood numb for an unknown amount of time. A distracting swath of bright orange eventually drew her attention and she blinked back the water in her eyes. The Cenigal-1 Prefect and his entourage were examining a ruin of an Imperial A5-RX battle tank. Eva locked stares with the Prefect- well, much as she could with his metal covered face. A good two heads taller, he was draped top to toe in fabric with an unglazed slit in the mask for eyes. Though a native species, the atmosphere was no longer conducive for exposure.

Eva wasn't there to show the Jaanue Naya that Imperials weren't heartless, but she realized her presence might have some diplomatic consequence. Or maybe in his mind, it had gone the other way and he looked upon her visit as gloating. As he approached she made a quick bow from the waist as was customary to acknowledge his status, immediately setting her apart from all the other officers he had encountered.

And the anger in her rant reflected his own. She was hardly coherent. "Is this what you want? No, no ...it's not, is it!" She motioned around. "This isn't constructive. We wish for the same things- for our offspring to thrive, to have the care they need?"

"Self-determination," the Prefect's interpreter relayed. No device, a real being.

She walked a simi-circle around the smoldering tank. "What a waste! The tax base that paid for this, are systems just like yours. In essence, you stole out of their pockets." She wasn't going to let on it was a remnant from the Republic. The good stuff wasn't sent to Cenigal-1. "And you…you paid for this conflict with the lives of your younglings."

"How much did your star destroyer cost? Currency that wouldn't need be spent if you weren't here." The Prefect's accusatory finger was practically touching her armored chest plate and the musky scent the Jaanue Naya emitted when they were agitated, wafted to her senses.

"One hundred and fifty million credits." She could not help but to look up with pride at its undercarriage, just out of range of ground cannon. "There are 37,000 employed aboard that ship, recipients of a higher wage than I see around me." She quieted down. "I don't really believe you understand what you would lose, and what there is to be gained. The Empire is inherently more efficient. Synonymous with greater prosperity." She motioned him aside and shut off her microphone piece. "You think, if you make it not worth their while, the Empire will go away? Perhaps they'll move on to easier prey. Or more likely they will make an example of you. And when it's done, they'll squeeze the extra expense to colonize, out of your system. Stop stubbornly holding out and get back to the negotiating table."

"What will they give us, and what will they take?"

"I don't know the specifics of the treaty they'd offer you." When Imperials moved in, capitulation was spelled out in infinite detail- the number of conscriptions required, the percentage stationed off world, manufacturing oversite, currency regulation, taxation, tariffs, representation, penalties and interest rates -on and on. Even if she had years of experience in her station, she would have only slightly more of an idea of that field of Imperial operations.

"It would be helpful to know where we'd stand to other systems, so we were not taken advantage of."

Eva blinked. The remark was an about face, and sign there could be real progress. But did he really think she'd show him the Empires hand? "I'll see what I can get. Maybe some of the contracts. Meet me at the Hanishk tea den, in a couple days, at opening time."

"No, someplace more public, at one of our cultural events. I'll have an invitation sent to your ship."

Eva knuckled up to the terminology and the complexity, after hours with no sleep, accessing a hundred confidential documents. Three quarters she set aside as the systems they were imposed upon were of dissimilar population, wealth or natural resources. She created spread sheets of the significant points, to which she cobbled together her own contract. She made sure to add a few enticements of particular appeal to the Jaanue Naya. She'd covertly let them have the contract, so when they returned to negotiate they'd pull the best offer they believed they could receive from the Imperials.

She had to admit, it was discrete in that they were so crammed on the benches, in almost the middle of the row, no one could see her pass along the data stick to the Prefect. Not even her security detail standing in the aisles, who were presently being heckled for blocking the view (among other reasons). The spectators made obscene gestures the stormtroopers didn't understand, as they were fresh off the Lacerate. The packed underground arena overwhelmingly smelled sickly sweet -an odor indicating the Jaanue Naya were something akin to 'thrilled.'

The Prefect sent his interpreter away, and spoke the best Basic his vocal cords could manage. "I have looked in at your background. Not standard very much. You are both green and highly honored." His tongue clicked. "What was the accommodation for, to be precise?"

"None of your damn business."

Down below three more contenders entered the arena, astride two-legged beasts that where particularly adept at jumping. Their range was augmented with bionic armature. The idea was to smash the opponent.

It made her queasy imaging the motion the riders were experiencing. "What, is this a fight to the death?" A few of handlers shocked the riders from the open wire grid that formed the lid of the arena. It would be best-for her troops—not to linger. "This is barbaric. I'm gone."

"You are not as other Imps."

She stood up silent with no comeback at hand. He'd meant it as a compliment, but she was insulted for the Imperials.

"Thank you for this," the Prefect nodded goodbye.

Eva hesitated with a tinge of guilt then added, "I wish you luck."

Green.

Did everyone have to know that?

Distance helped keep up the 'charade.' She kept to herself-didn't often dine with her officers like her brief time as adjunct to Admiral Piett. And when it became overwhelming feeling responsible for all aboard, she remembered the Lacerate was just one in nearly 25,000 -expendable to the Empire. What an odd thought to bring relief.

With experience, surely the workload would lighten and she wouldn't feel as insecure. The impression she should be a tactical genius was already put to ease. Her posting was not the swashbuckling adventure it was perceived to be. What her overseers really appreciated was dependability, efficiency, an ability to articulate directives concisely, and timely completed paperwork ( all at which she excelled ). And compared to espionage, the setting was outright luxurious - climate control, decent food, spectacular vantage points…

"Circle around then move the ship into orbit." From the bridge's viewports, the city shrunk away swallowed by great plains, until the surface was lost to the clouds. An ocean of stars and three rings of Cenigal-1 settled into view. She couldn't believe it actually worked. Another planet subjugated by the Empire, without another shot fired.

Eva would have to bring her ship to him for a meeting. His time was too valuable. There were thousands of Captains, but only one 'Supreme Courtier and Advisor to the Emperor.' It could not be of coincidence, that this summons came soon after her contact with another Courtier. That one had only requested transport but made a point of hanging around the bridge, striking conversation whenever able.

As she had already logged three extra hyperspace jumps that month to give a Courtier a lift, Eva asked the robed figure of a hologram, "Perhaps I could just come by shuttle to meet with the Supreme Courier?" Supreme Courtier and Advisor, the aid to the Grand Vizier's Office rolled his eyes. "The meeting is to take place aboard your vessel."

Eva ended the transmission. Like Lord Vader, those at the very top seemed to never contemplate expenses.

She met the high-priority visitor in the docking bay. "Welcome to the Imperial I-class Star Destroyer Lacerate." Eva recalled with a smirk the Imperials had named a ship in her honor- the 'Slayer' ('Infiltrator' though more appropriate, was already taken). But that was a much larger ship not under her command. "There are over 37,000 crew on board: 9,235 officers and 27,850 enlisted personnel. A complement of 9,700 stormtroopers adds to a total of 46,785 crew and passengers…"

Instead of meeting in a conference room, Eva invited Supreme Courtier and Adviser Sim Aloo to dine with her, an offer he enthusiastically accepted. The conversation, the dinner (an entrée from his home world - she had done some research), and her selection of music were far more sophisticated than he anticipated. It was not all for show, as she was able to name the pieces playing.

Aloo who was tall, bone thin and elderly, was studying the state of her private quarters. Eva had politely tried to dissuade him, but he remained insistent on the setting. She hadn't occupied the suite long, so it was unaltered. Standard issue. Personal items were mostly put away. Three droids stood at attention to fill drinks and go out to fetch the next course. His master's massive Dreadnought, the Eclipse, was in full view out the windows as Eva had arranged to have her ship turned just so.

Aloo brought his attention back to her. Neatly plaited brown hair was tied in a long loop on either side of her attractive face, her efficient grey-green Captain's uniform incongruous with his home world inspired maroon and purple floor length robes. "You're wondering if our Emperor is on board? Of course. I am not far from him."

As Eva was not in a line of his direct command, it was not inappropriate to for her speak to him as an equal. But she was gracious yet guarded, and direct. "Why did you schedule this meeting?"

"I'm not able to discuss the details, however part of the purpose is to review your background and experience," Aloo responded in his elite Eriaduan accent. He motioned to the droid that his plate could be removed. "Shall we begin?"

He started from memory, without so much as a datapad before him. "You hail from Arda-2. You were away for your later education, but returned." His voice relaxed slightly. "I visited the system briefly a very long time ago." He recalled the dull grey weather, nothing so dramatic as an actual rain shower. Constant mist. Moss speckled rocks that collected water in ponds and no trees. Nearly every material was imported. The settlements were backwater. "Augmenting your…adequate…education, you are considerably self-taught, including High Galactic. Particularly useful on Coruscant.

"You took up work of somewhat above average means? Finding employment with financial aspects in a facility that mined and processed dedlanite, along with your cohort, Mag Doum. You gave high ranking Rebels a tour of the complex…knowing…they were arranging to illicitly siphon some of the material for the Alliance." He paused, "You don't seem to have a healthy respect for legalities?" He appeared to not actually expect an answer. "Your companion, Doum, sold you out. You weren't so able a judge of character there, were you?"

Flickers of recollection were inevitable. Eva remembered the rebels firing on Mag's small ship as he lifted off to get word to the Imperials. He just didn't have time to get her away too…

"You were put under arrest, but for your infraction you chose to cooperate with Imperials."

…Staring at exquisite black boots on the crossed legs of the elder Admiral. He was kind, and allowed her stay on the bridge while Mag was put away in detention. Lord Vader was on his way. It was really the first time she had heard someone speak that name.

"You were intensively trained in espionage…combat. Word is, that Lord Darth Vader personally took part in some of your instruction."

Too much had been made of that- why a master would waste time on a novice? Eva had taken her hands off the table and held them in her lap. Her head was lowered in thought. Aloo leaned forward to snap her back to his attention. "…then you were sent to an Imperial hard labour camp, where you spent three standard months undercover as an inmate, until the prison was allowed to be compromised by Rebels."

…That horrid, sweltering jungle. Final death toll; 29 Imperials, 9 Rebels, 12 hapless prisoners.

"Later you took up your Rebel connection, and worked intelligence under the supervision of Lord Vader while the Alliance had you stationed at an Orbi moon then Sriluur…"

She recalled that Sriluurian sunset, alone…squatting on a cliff overlooking the vast barren terrain. Her helmet in her hands, she was sick to her gut and fresh from her first grisly kill. There was no end, no resolution in sight. The mission had already gone on so much longer than originally promised. Vader's voice would sound, and direct her from inside her very head. He was literally wired to her eyes and ears with organic receptors and networked with stealth relays and power boosts- technology that was leaps ahead, and still hush-hush. Vader knew she was ready to throw herself over the edge. But he saw the deep, craggy expanse through her own eyes, and said nothing.

"…And lastly, Echo Base, which then fell to us. At that point you were removed from reconnaissance and reassigned to command this ship. Quite an abrupt readjustment, I'm sure. Your performance thus far has been very slightly above average adjusted for experience, although not for the fast-tracking of your training. So we might rate your performance slightly better still?" He would let it go unmentioned, that she hadn't really been been tested. "Well…all in all, early deficiencies have been more than made up for. And of course, you possess one of our Emperor's highest honours. "Would there be anything in which you'd wish to elaborate?"

Eva thought for a moment. There seemed no benefit in explaining herself to this man.

Aloo continued, "You are by now aware of the irony, that if you simply refused to cooperate with the Imperials in the beginning, a three month sentence in hard labour was a probable outcome consistent with sentencing precedent?"

"Yes, but that was not what Lord Vader was 'offering' at the time." Luke Skywalker was one of the Rebels who toured the factory on Arda-2.

"Do you hold resentment to the way you have been treated?"

Why was he outright asking that? What did he expect to hear? Eva weighed her words. "It has been a rewarding career."

Aloo smiled and requested the droid refill his glass with Sullustan wine. "Do you understand what my duties are, as a Courtier?"

"A personal and political adviser." A quote directly from Imperial media, but then she elaborated, "While you have restricted official authority, you actually have considerable influence and near total access to the Emperor. No one else understands the Emperor like you do. No one can question the Emperor like you. You direct the Greater and Lesser Courtiers, who then arrange for the Emperor's personal needs and comforts."

"I vet them, as well." He would allow that. Palpatine was correct, and she had surprised Aloo in her promise.

A million stars reflected on the black still water below. She remembered skirting over them at astonishing speed, and yet he wished her to fly the craft lower. Each day Vader had pushed the training a little more. He sent her piloting through haunting beautiful systems as close to, and from any vantage point she wished. Inside the small modified TIE/br fighter, she had never felt more free. "Scant right," Vader guided from the copilot's seat directly across her. 'Turn ever so much- ten degrees,' she understood to be his meaning, though he had the directive coded down to a single word.

Vader was not just training her. She was training him. His voice - her reaction. Closer and closer in in sync. The dance was perfecting each run, though she had no understanding of the future application. "Touch the water." She was hesitant to fly as low as he asked. She possessed a sense of self preservation and trepidation he could not coax her to let go. Vader took the controls and pushed the craft to the limits, to show her where the limits were. Diving down then abruptly straightening to skid the water with the small antenna on the wing. It promptly broke off. Then whooshing straight up skyward at the dark cliffs which formed the lake's edge. The little tie fighter arced through voluminous cumulonimbus clouds, luminous by the light of two crescent moons and sprinkled with silent electromagnetic sparks as the fighter soared though. He pressed on, until by morning light her fear had melded into to sheer exhilaration.