Star Wars: Broken Empire

[Raesene]

The big guns have arrived... very nice

Looking forward to see the special guest Pooja suggested.

[Eternal_Freedom]

The big guns have arrived... very nice

Looking forward to see the special guest Pooja suggested.

I think the special guest is General Veers. Either way, things are about to get (even more) interesting.

[Diverball]

The big guns have arrived... very nice

Looking forward to see the special guest Pooja suggested.

I think the special guest is General Veers. Either way, things are about to get (even more) interesting.

Not possible. Veers is already at the party.

Impressive.... Younger than Patrice, but not by much.... Has influence..... Potentially shares Patrice's views about an Empire without the oppression..... Is in the region of the Outer Rim....My money would be on Thrawn.

[masterarminas]

Conversation in the observation deck came to an abrupt halt as the two Shock Troopers stationed at the entrance were suddenly lifted into the air and flung into bulkheads a dozen meters away.

SNAP-HISS. The assembled Moffs and Generals and Admirals and their aides and consorts alike parted in a terrified reaction to that crimson blade that ignited in the doorway. And from where he and General Veers were engaged in conversation, Thom Patrice just shook his head at the young woman standing in the entrance-way.

As so many of those present did, the newest arrival wore an Imperial uniform—but this uniform was blood red from the high collar to the polished boots, over which a crimson, sable, and gold hooded cloak was worn. One gloved hand rose, took hold of the edge of the hood, and lowered it, revealing an attractive, if harsh, face with long dark hair and harsh eyes.

“I am Inquisitor Lanu Pasiq, and am here in service of the Empire.”

“As are we all, Inquisitor,” Thom said as he stepped forward, his face stern with suppressed anger. “What is the meaning of this? You are here as an observer—deactivate that weapon at once, and in honor of Director Isard’s memory, I shall not have you arrested.”

A gasp went through the crowd. No one in the Empire spoke in that manner to one of the Emperor’s chosen Inquisitor’s—trained in the arts of the Sith by the none other than Vader himself.

“Is that what she told you?” Pasiq laughed. “She told me that it was your advice which led her into confrontation with Zsinj—that it was you who failed her. And the price of failure, Moff Patrice is quite high.”

“You are here to arrest me then?”

“My dear Moff, I am here to take your head and return it to my Empress,” she cooed.

“If you have been paying any attention to the news from Coruscant, Director Isard is dead, Inquisitor. And there are many—in this very room even—who would take exception with her assumption of Palpatine’s throne.”

“Yes, of course, you wish to believe that, Moff Patrice; that she is dead. That will make her return all the more sweet when her enemies reveal themselves.”

And whispers of conversations raced around the room. But Thom laughed. “If Isard is dead or if she is alive—she no longer holds any power, girl. She has lost Coruscant and she has lost the Fleets that would have obeyed her—she has nothing. If she lives, which knowing your kind, might well be just another lie told to sow discontent.”

She lifted her chin and snarled—literally snarled—at Thom. “I find your lack of faith most disturbing,” she said as one hand shot out in a claw-like gesture.

Thom gasped as unseen forces clamped down on his throat and lifted him into the air, and the guests pressed even further back against the walls and great expanses of windows.

“Release him, Inquisitor,” the command was issued quietly, but everyone in the room felt the presence behind that voice. They parted again, and a Fleet officer walked forward; like the woman his hair was black, but where her face was contorted in anger and hate, his was serene.

Pasiq blinked upon seeing him and Thom fell to the deck, gasping as he draw in a breath of fresh air. “Tan Stele . . . I see that you have abandoned your duty. The Inquisitorius was much displeased with your sudden vanishing act—but perhaps we can convince them to forgive you if you return with me.”

“Those jackals? Lanu, they serve only themselves—just as Isard and Zsinj did. They care for nothing but their own personal power and advancement. They are the reason that the Galaxy is being torn apart, because they refuse to sacrifice anything for the greater good of the people of this Galaxy—they want control over all life, even if they have to kill half the Galaxy to obtain it.”

“Stand aside Emperor’s Hand,” she said with a smile. “You are no match for me—and you know it. Stand aside, and I will leave you be as I depart with this traitor’s head.”

“The title was Emperor’s Reach, Inquisitor—and you underestimate me and those I lead today at your peril. As for Moff Patrice? I serve him willingly, child. I have given him my fealty because he is a better person than Palpatine, Isard, Zsinj, Kaine, or your Inquisitorius could ever dream of being. You will have to come through me to have him.”

She laughed again and grinned maliciously. “So be it. Vader knew you—he knew that desired no training in our ways.”

“The Emperor was not concerned with my desires, and train me by his own hand he did, child. While he sought to teach me of the Dark Side, he could not force me to walk that path; I remain myself, Inquisitor. I warn you again, test me at your own peril.”

Pasiq lowered her light-saber blade slightly and then she assumed a posture that heralded an attack. Stele shook his head and he sighed. He nodded. “Take her,” he said.

Panels on the interior walls dropped; behind them were arrayed lines of Shock Troopers with weapons raised. The Inquisitor spun and her light-saber whirled to deflect the blaster bolts—but there were no blaster bolts. A hail-storm of saberdarts flew through the air as the archaic projectile weapons whined and spat rapid-fire aimed shots, burning through the contents of their magazines. Her blade slashed a dozen—a score, even more—from the air, but it could not hit all of them. Her eyes wide with shock and anger, she flung her arm and a wave of telekinetic force erupted out, knocking the troopers back and down—but dozens of darts had already penetrated her flesh, delivering their toxic payloads.

She gasped and she swayed and suddenly felt lightheaded.

SNAP-HISS. And a second lightsaber blade—of a red so dark it was nearly black—appeared in Stele’s gloved hand. “I warned you not to underestimate me, Inquisitor. I am not a Sith. I am not a Jedi. And I do not fight fair duels,” Maarek Stele said softly as he walked forward.

Her vision graying, she flung out her hand once again and her lightsaber streaked away, the crimson blade remaining active as it dove unerringly for Stele’s heart—but with a wave of his hand, the former Emperor’s Reach diverted its course—and Maximilian Veers screamed as the lightsaber buried itself in his chest.

Stele looked at his hand and then at the cooling corpse of the once crippled and now dead Imperial General. “Oops,” he said. “Bit out of practice, sorry about that.” And then he walked forward. The lightsaber flashed once, and the headless body of Inquisitor Pasiq fell to the deck, her head rolling towards the crowd, her open eyes staring as the light slowly faded away.

“I am Maarek Stele, and I serve Moff Thom Patrice. Choose your futures wisely at this summit, my Moffs. The Moff and Admiral Morvin have allowed me the opportunity to teach their pilots how to make a TIE dance. And they are fast learners. I sincerely hope that you do not choose a course of action that will result in me and my pilots coming for you on one dark night.”

[atg]

Wow did not expect Veers to die then.

[Eternal_Freedom]

I don't think Patrice did either. Solves his problem though.

[FaxModem1]

Unless he had Stele purposefully make it look like an accident due to an assassination attempt beyond his control.

[Sidewinder]

Does Stele have the ability to alter people's memories? If so, then he can claim the inquisitor was the one who killed Veers. If not... well, we'll see how skilled a liar Patrice is.

[atg]

I don't see why Stele would have to even if he could. He could easily claim that he was deflecting the saber and in the heat of the moment didn't realise where the deflection would go...

Who would Patrice have to answer to if Isard and the ruling council are dead though?

[Raesene]

Being attacked by an inquisitor can lead to one forgetting who is where qnd lead to an unfortunate defelction of a lightsaber. nicely done ! I doubt anyone wil see that as an assasination.

Likely a Council of Moffs or his Grand Moff, I forgot wether Cyralis is (theroretically) part of an Oversector.

Before I read Stele I expected Galen Marek #? to be the mysterious guest.

[Themightytom]

Stele looked at his hand and then at the cooling corpse of the crippled and dead Imperial General. “Oops,” he said. “Bit out of practice, sorry about that.”

While that line was beyond hilarious and probably one of my favorites, I feel like it took me out of the story. Crippled and dead seem like redundant descriptions of a corpse which while technically cooling seems like it could have been described better.

Unless he had Stele purposefully make it look like an accident due to an assassination attempt beyond his control.

That is my interpretation too.

[Eternal_Freedom]

Perhaps you coudl replace "crippled and dead" with "crippled and dying." Or with "Broken and dead" since Veers just had a lightsaber rammed through his chest.

[Themightytom]

Perhaps you coudl replace "crippled and dead" with "crippled and dying." Or with "Broken and dead" since Veers just had a lightsaber rammed through his chest.

...Or maimed? it's probably just my personal hang up, but I feel like death is the ultimate cripple.

[masterarminas]

Stele looked at his hand and then at the cooling corpse of the crippled and dead Imperial General. “Oops,” he said. “Bit out of practice, sorry about that.”

While that line was beyond hilarious and probably one of my favorites, I feel like it took me out of the story. Crippled and dead seem like redundant descriptions of a corpse which while technically cooling seems like it could have been described better.

Unless he had Stele purposefully make it look like an accident due to an assassination attempt beyond his control.

That is my interpretation too.

Changed to this:

Stele looked at his hand and then at the cooling corpse of the once crippled and now dead Imperial General. “Oops,” he said. “Bit out of practice, sorry about that.” And then he walked forward. The lightsaber flashed once, and the headless body of Inquisitor Pasiq fell to the deck, her head rolling towards the crowd, her open eyes staring as the light slowly faded away.

That work better?

MA

[Themightytom]

Thank you, now my conscience will let me lol.

[hongi]

Great story. Consumed it all in one sitting. Only point of criticism with regards to the plot is that it goes all too well for Thom. He's too smart for the rest of the galaxy. Would like to see him get knocked on his arse sometime.

[masterarminas]

“This is insane, Patrice!” Moff Barell of the Hook Nebula barked as he shook his head. “Were we to join in this insanity, we will all be destroyed! Do you truly believe that Mon Mothma, or Grand Moff Kaine, or the Hutts will just allow us to break ties with the Empire! We will be attacked from all sides!”

“What Empire, Barell?” asked Admiral Lynisan of Ryndellian. “The events of these past eighteen months have shown us that Palpatine’s Empire is finished. The Emperor had no heir, he had no successor—and the Rebels are just sweeping up entire Sectors as we fight each other. I cannot say that I agree with everything Patrice has proposed—his Declaration of Universal Rights for all Sentient Beings for one. But can you stand there and say that it is honestly worse than having the Rebels take over? Can you?”

The Moffs gathered in the chamber of Patrice’s palace in Cyralis began to argue and bicker again, but Patrice just sat silent and he watched them. Already the fracture lines were showing—twenty leaders present had shown their willingness to discuss Unification. Hyk Indra of Dalchon, Charlys of Karthakk, Loran of Kiblini, Paulus of Cadavine, Admiral Lynisan of Ryndellian, Eisley of Alui, Torne of Astal, Kintaro of Bajic, and Hartee of Juris being the ones he had expected—and they had fallen into place. Voelkers of Pelgrin and Krandor of Bitrose had also stood up for his proposal—Biram because he had decided the time had arrived to fish instead of cutting bait, and Krandor because he feared the Rebels. These eleven Patrice had planned upon.

But Undine of Vendusii? Gannon of Daimar? General Jasan of Lol? Vimaar of Dail? Ammar of Portmoak? Admiral Pym of Cor’ric? Patrice had been astounded when these six leaders in the Mid and Outer Rim declared themselves for this Union. And in a surprising move, Alexander Julstan of Arkanis had pledged his support and worlds—in exchange for ending the rebel advance upon his worlds. Furthermore, finding himself surrounded on all sides by Moff and Admirals that were arguing for Patrice’s Union, even Anar of Savareen had let go of his caution and hesitation. And in a move that had shocked every high official present, the late General Veer’s Deputy—Anton Shal—had said that he lost faith in Coruscant, and that Gaulus would follow Patrice, a leader who had proven himself.

Moff Ravik, his Tolonda Sector now surrounded on three sides by neighbors that were supporting the old General, and on the fourth by the unknown regions of Wild Space, he had stormed out of the summit in full fury. Aggravated no doubt by the decision of the leaders present not to accept (or believe) his claims that Palpatine had appointed him as Grand Moff—as their ruler. Thom had quietly nodded to Mal Galen and the Intelligence Director had followed Ravik out from the conference. It had to be done; Ravik was insane and he could not be permitted to retain control of a Fleet in the heart of the soon-to-form Empire of the Rim. Thom didn’t like it, but his likes and dislikes had long since failed to keep him from doing his duty.

Another twenty-one Moffs and Generals and Admirals stood in opposition—not as vehemently as Ravik, perhaps, but they had made clear that they would not be joining. And that did not bode well for those twenty-one when the New Republic turned its eyes to this corner of the Galaxy.

Only Moff Panaka of Chommell had yet to speak. For the five days that this summit had consumed, Panaka had not said a single word. He held his tongue—and Thom could not read him. Or the Queen seated beside him.

“We have only to remain loyal to the New Order and maintain control over own charges!” Moff Quain of Sanbra shouted. “Rule has always come from the Core—it will do so again! And when this Succession Crisis has been sorted out, we will fall in line behind the man who assumes the Imperial Throne. Anything else is treason, gentlemen! Bloody treason!”

“You imbecile!” responded Admiral Pym. “If this fighting on Coruscant continues, there won’t be an Imperial Throne! If all of us, here, now, in this chamber band together we will control more of the Galaxy than the Hutts! Who, if I might remind my fellow officers, enjoyed the status of Autonomy even under the rule of Palpatine! Why? Why did the Emperor allow them this? Because he knew it would have cost him too many ships, too many troops, too many years to conquer. If we unite here on the Rim, then no matter who eventually wins control of Coruscant, WE will have our autonomy. And we can preserve for ourselves the best parts of the Empire and hang the rest!” That last he meant quite literally, for he had taken a page from Kell Morvin’s playbook and executed every last member of the ISB and CompForce within Cor’ric Sector before he departed for this summit.

And in reaction to the insult, Quain began to yell—and he wasn’t alone. A dozen Moffs where shouting to be heard and Patrice shook his head . . . and then he drew in his breath as Moff Panaka finally stood—one hand raised in a quieting motion.

Slowly, the chamber drew quiet and still. He lowered his hand and the silence reigned over the room. “Palpatine came from Naboo—in Chommell. He was a son of Naboo. All of you here know me—you know that I gave him my full support. I gave the Empire my support. But I am reminded by my Queen that there was another voice, a voice which stood against many of the Emperor’s future policies. A voice that was buried far too soon,” and Panaka bowed his head. “The Empire has fallen, my friends. Palpatine is dead. We must now look to the future and there are three paths forward.”

“One is where we continue as we are. Squabbling and bickering amongst ourselves, until we find that our Fleets are gone, our Armies have deserted, and firing squad of alien scum stands facing us with a pock-marked wall at our backs. Make no mistake—Mon Mothma will come for you—she hates the Empire. And her strongest supports hate the Empire, and as Palpatine showed us, hate can make you strong!”

“He showed us as well that hate can corrupt. His policies created this War. His control over every system and every Sector had to be absolute—and that is what gave Mon Mothma and her rebels a victory in propaganda. Many of the Rebels have no idea for what they are fighting for—except to throw down the Empire. What will replace it? Look at her own words—there will be return to a Chancellor of the Old Republic; the victors will rule over the deposed. And we will be deposed.”

“The second choice is that we stand behind a single leader. That we united to preserve the Empire as it is—to preserve the system without change and continue the policies that have brought us low. That is the future that Isard and Zsinj represented—what Kaine and those Warlords that follow him represent. A future of unending war between this New Republic that the Rebels are forming and the Empire, with the Galaxy torn between us. For twenty years now, they have fought—an entire generation has fought against the Emperor. And if we walk down this path we will be fighting for generations yet to come. I remember well the time when Naboo was occupied by tyrants—I fought for a free Naboo in service to my Queen. I will not see Naboo occupied again, her people suffer under the attrition of war that cannot be won and a peace that cannot be maintained.”

“The third option is here today. I have thought on this matter intensely—I have searched my soul, my fellow Moffs. And, as others have said, I believe that Patrice goes too far in his reforms of the Empire—but we must try something. If not these reforms—which will leave us in command of our homes—then we accept either war everlasting or surrender. I cannot surrender. I will not see Naboo’s children go to war for generation after generation—for nothing. All things in life change, my Moffs. Only the dead are preserved. And we plan on living our lives, we must change as well. Chommel will join with this new government that Thom Patrice has proposed. And I will add my Fleets and my Armies to him to preserve our worlds. So that we may have peace in our lifetimes.”

And Panaka sat back down in the silence of the chamber, a tear leaking from one eye.

Thom stood. “The time has come to make your decision. Mine is made. The question is: who has the courage to chart a new course? If you cannot, then I bid you farewell—and good luck. Those who choose to remain . . . there are matters that must be decided upon in the formation of our new realm.”

“This summit is now adjourned. Those who have chosen to join our new Empire of the Rim, we will reconvene in one hours time. To the rest, I bid you safe travels.”

[masterarminas]

One hour later, Thom stood. And only twenty-one other delegations had remained. He smiled. More than he had thought.

“Now we come to the crux, gentlemen. What form shall our new government take?”

Panaka laughed. “You mean you haven’t given this any thought, Thom?” The other Moffs joined in the chuckles.

Thom smiled. “Actually, I have. Where Palpatine went wrong was in concentrating so much power within himself. The Republic erred is having too much power concentrated in the Senate—where consensus was required for any action. We must walk the line between the two with the Imperial Union of the Rim.”

Several Moffs nodded as the considered the title. One by one, signified their agreement. “While there are several issues on which we must agree will govern us all—that all sentient life is to receive equal rights and liberties under the law, being most central—I do not wish to return to having all power concentrated in the hands of a single man. Neither should you.”

Thom began to pace. Each of our Sectors will possess a limited amount of autonomy—provided that we comply with the principles I laid out earlier at the summit. Instead of a Senate with one representative per world, each of our Sectors will have two Senators chosen by the means each Sector chooses. They will serve terms of ten years apiece, once we pass the ten year mark, that it. The original Senators will draw lots to determine who serves a shorter term in office. For myself, I have already decided that the people of Cyralis—to include the former worlds of Lamaredd—will have a vote on that Senator. Some of you might instead choose to appoint your Senator or even take the post yourself.”

More laughter.

“These forty-six Senators will form the governing body of the Imperial Union.”

“Forty-six?” asked Biram Voelkers. “We number twenty-one—Cyralis makes for twenty-two. With two Senators per Sector that makes forty-four. Have you misapplied your arithmetic, Thom?”

“Moff Ravik presents a clear and present danger to the safety of the Imperial Union of the Rim,” Thom said quietly . . . and silence hovered over the room. “I suggest that upon the organization of our government that we move against him in strength and remove him from office, replacing him with a person of our choice and incorporating Tolonda into the Imperial Union as a member Sector.”

General Jasan snorted. “The man is a raving lunatic—and if he removed from my border, I will certainly sleep better. I agree.”

The others voiced their approval and Thom nodded. “Very good. We can iron out most the remaining details while we appoint—or elect—our Senators and adjust the laws in our Sectors to meet the minimum requirements of what I presented earlier at the summit. Except for two that must be resolved now.”

“First, the Army and Fleet of the Imperial Union must be consolidated. Now,” Thom continued even as several of delegates present protested, “I am not speaking of stripping away your Sector’s abilities to defend themselves. But we must each provide forces to a Consolidated Armed Forces of the Union. Forming that organization will be our first task—and the CAF will have as its first mission the elimination of Moff Ravik.”

Now, the smiles were gone, but Panaka stood. “We cannot have it both ways—either we each retain our forces, or we have a national force that serves ALL of us. If each of you agree to give up fifty ships—at least five of them being Star Destroyers—I pledge that Chommell will reduce our forces to one hundred and warships contributing the remainder to the CAF. Provided that Gaulus and Cyralis do the same.”

“Cyralis has no objection to that, Moff Panaka.”

“Nor does Gaulus,” said Admiral Anton Shal.

“Good,” continued Panaka. “We three have the largest forces in this region—that balances each sector and will provide our Combined Fleet with at a minimum force of 2,200 ships,” Panaka smiled, “including somewhere around 150 Star Destroyers. We will still each retain enough soldiers and ships to defend our Sectors, while the Consolidated Fleet can deploy from strategic hubs to meet any incursions. Or undergo offensive operations as it may be required to perform.”

Slowly, the remaining leaders voiced their—somewhat reluctant approval and Panaka sat.

“That brings us to the second point—who will lead our government?”

“Come now, Patrice,” said Moff Gannon. “Don’t tell us that you are not going to stand for that post—I am just wondering what your title will be?”

Thom shook his head. “I am content to rule over Cyralis—that is all that I desire. I propose that we show the Galaxy that we are not the same as Palpatine. I propose we establish a new government that will provide a Steward for our people—a Steward that has honor, courage, principles of character, and will lend to this Imperial Union that one trait which has for so long eluded the Empire.”

“Legitimacy, gentlemen. We must prove that we are the legitimate government in a fashion that causes Mon Mothma to gnash her teeth in frustration; one that does not cause our former Imperial brethren to fear. We will establish the rule of law for the better of our people—not just for a chosen few. And to do that, I have asked the a person here today who I believe will best represent us on the Galactic stage.”

Thom nodded to Kell Morvin who walked over to a nearby door.

“Gentlemen, I nominate for the post of Lord Steward of the Imperial Union of the Rim,” Thom said as Kell opened the door and a man strode inside, “Garm bel Iblis. Former Senator of Corellia—hero of the Clone Wars—founding father of the Rebel Alliance.”

And utter silence—shocked silence—filled the room as Senator bel Iblis walked in.

[masterarminas]

Five days earlier . . .

“This is a trap, I know it is a trap,” muttered the woman with long black hair as she paced back and forth. The other two women in the room just sighed.

“Is she always like this, Irenez?” asked Pooja Naberrie from where she sat.

“More often than not, Senator. Sena, will you please SIT? You are making my legs tired just looking at you.”

Sena Leikvold Midanyl stopped and glared at the woman who was technically her superior. “I am certain that Senator Naberrie has not betrayed us—but I know nothing of this man beyond rumor and we should never have come here!” she snapped, her violet eyes flashing.

“Enough, Sena,” a voice came from the room to the second suite. “They can hear you in the other wing of this palace, I am quite certain.” Garm bel Iblis walked into the room and he smiled at the former Senator of Naboo. “Pooja, come, give an old man a hug.”

She rose and walked over to the tall Corellian—his long hair braided in an intricate weave, the few strands of black among the silver only adding to his magnetism. His cheeks were clean-shaven, but the mustache and goatee—both silvery-white as well—lent him the air of a desperado, a scoundrel.

“Garm, dear. It has been too long,” she whispered as she hugged him tight.

“You think this one is worth it?” he asked. “I hate giving up the deceit of my death for a false cause—and while the Thom Patrice I knew was a good man,” the deep voice of the Senator paused and then he sighed. “Let us just say Palpatine had a habit of corrupting all around him.”

“He did, Garm. But I think that you will find that your ideas and those of Patrice have much congruity. As much as I respect Mon Mothma—and act for her upon occasion—her treatment of you has been . . . reckless. Hear what he has to say, Garm—he promised safe conduct for all three of you. And he is a man of his word.”

“Why else do you think I am here—to listen. Agreeing will take quite a bit more effort.”

“Then shall we begin,” said Thom as the door to the Palace corridor slid open. The two women with bel Iblis tensed and Thom smiled; he turned around. “Wait outside—there is nothing I need fear in this room,” he instructed his Shock Trooper detail.

“Sir,” the clone answered, stepping back into the hallway.

Thom turned back around and he smiled. “Aren’t you dead?”

The Corellian barked a snort of laughter. “Rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerated. Thom Patrice, as I live and breathe. You got old. And, although it was hard indeed for you to accomplish, your ugliness has only increased as your hair line has receded.”

“Time stands still for no man, you low-down, sabaac-cheating, Wookie-loving, nerf-herder,” Thom smiled. “I do like the mustache and goatee—they make you appear less like a court jester.”

“Sit, Thom,” the former Senator said as he sat down. “My aides—Irenez and Sena. I believe that you already know Senator Naberrie.”

“Charmed, madames,” Thom said with a bow as he took a seat.

“Pooja seems to think that you and I need to talk. But we are on opposite sides of this; I want the Empire destroyed—you want it saved. Tell me why I should listen to you.”

“That would be because Palpatine was a homicidal sociopathic monster who didn’t have the least idea of how to actually govern beyond terror and fear. Oh, he once did. He played politics like you play sabaac—you know that well. But absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

“And yet, you want to perpetuate the same system he created.”

“And you want to rebuild the system he came to power within. Senator, I am no Palpatine. And I do not desire absolute power. But, the Emperor was correct in one fashion—the Republic was far too cumbersome and the Senate was hopelessly crippled. What I want to do is take the best of both and leave behind the worst.”

“With yourself at the helm, Thom. You are setting yourself up to become Palpatine.”

Thom smiled. “No. I am not going to take that post, Garm bel Iblis—you are.”

The old Corellian jerked and both of the women gasped—but Senator Naberrie remained calm. She had already been briefed.

Thom nodded gravely. “I want you—a founding father of the Rebel Alliance—to become the first Lord Steward of the Imperial Union of the Rim, Garm. A Steward—not an Emperor, not a Chancellor—fighting to protect the rights of all of his people, be they human or otherwise. I need a man who possesses the strength of character and the courage of his convictions that led him to fight Palpatine from the beginning of the Emperor’s reign. Openly fought him. Who sacrificed his entire life to see that Palpatine’s rule was ended and finished. That man is you, Garm bel Iblis.”

“Thom, you cannot be serious. I have fought Imperials my whole life. Now, you want me to lead them.”

“I am dead serious, Garm. Pooja has told me why you went underground—and I agree. Mon Mothma is an idealist—you are not. You operate grounded in reality. And idealism makes her a threat to liberty. Oh, she won’t start by shooting down people who disagree with her—wait, she has!”

“Her tolerance for all life only extends to those who support the Rebel Alliance. She will not stop until every person who wants the Empire to exist is put on trial and given to the masses. There are worlds out there where her New Republic has forbidden any former soldiers or spacers from serving in government or the military; she has disenfranchised millions in her quest to free those Palpatine held in bondage.”

Thom paused and he sighed. “You know that she is rash, Garm. She doesn’t listen to others because she doesn’t see others as equal to her. In that, she is far more like Palpatine than I am. Or you are. I want you here to lead MY people—to grant them safety and security. We in Cyralis have already granted equal rights under the law to all sentient beings; I intend for the Union to do the same in every Sector which joins. We—you and I and the Empire as it could have and should have been—can provide a counter-balance against her New Republic, if she goes down the path that Palpatine trod.”

Thom sat back and the old Corellian did as well, a stunned look on his astonished face. “I, . . .,” he began, but Thom stood.

“I don’t want an answer today, Senator bel Iblis. I want you to think on this long and hard. Senator Naberrie has the full run of my Palace—indeed the entire planet. She will take you anywhere you wish to go. Speak with anyone you want to. Any species you want to. Find for yourself the truth of what she and I are trying to save out here. And then tell me if you want to see all of this thrown away because of the arrogance of that woman.”

Thom bowed his head towards the ladies. “I hope that all four of you will join me for dinner this evening. It may be late depending on the delegations and how long they continue to argue. Good day,” he said as he turned and exited the room.

“A little warning would have been nice!” Serena snapped at Pooja who shook her head.

“My dear, this type of offer, a warning would not have been wise. Besides, I want to get a picture of Garm utterly speechless. This is liable to be my only opportunity until after he is dead,” the Naboo native replied with a flutter of her eyelids.

[Raesene]

That was unexpected.

He is an interesting choice - and I like your last paragraph

[atg]

Nice chapters. Seems that Mothma is going to be a bit different of a character than in the EU? Or is that just Patrice playing on the fears that led to bel Iblis' split from the Alliance...

[Diverball]

Nice chapters. Seems that Mothma is going to be a bit different of a character than in the EU? Or is that just Patrice playing on the fears that led to bel Iblis' split from the Alliance...

More likely the latter. Though Mothma's characterisation is not that implausible. The EU never actually went into much detail about what Mothma's motives were, and with the exception of the Skywalker/Jade wedding comic, never even addressed the fate of people who honestly believed that, atrocities excepted, the Empire was preferable to the Republic.

The Old Republic fell for a reason - it was dying long before Palpatine came along. Only someone who idealised the Republic could be so blind as to re-establish the exact same institutions and expect a different result. And indeed, as we saw in the EU, the New Republic did not endure.

[Eternal_Freedom]

Well I did not see that coming. Damn!

Very nicely done as always MA.

[masterarminas]

The distinctive crash of the fragile cup shattering as it hit the floor brought the guards into her office at a run, and their leader thumbed his radio as he saw the shocked pale face of Mon Mothma, the newly installed Chief of State of the New Republic. “Medical staff to the Chief of State’s office, stat!” he barked. But the leader of the Alliance to Restore the Galactic Republic did not appear to hear him—she just stared at the news holo still playing, with a flashing LIVE—BREAKING NEWS header scrolling across the bottom.

There was a man on the screen—a man that the security Lieutenant found vaguely familiar, as if he should know him. Mon Mothma swayed, her mouth slightly open and then she sat in her chair once more, ignoring the shards of glass and ceramic at her feet—and the spilled beverage that had soaked her robes.

“. . . my fight has always been against Palpatine—against his excesses, his laws which stripped so many peoples of this Galaxy of their rights. And I will continue to fight as the Lord Steward of the Imperial Union of the Rim against those who seek to carry on in Palpatine’s shadow—those who crave power for the sake of power, who use the law to remove the rights of others to live their lives in peace and liberty; I and those who I have now been entrusted with the honor of leading will fight to restore to this Galaxy equal rights for all living species—equal rights under the law. We will throw down the corruption of Palpatine’s most heinous followers and we will peace to the Galaxy.”

“We cannot do this by demonizing every man and woman who wore the uniform of an Imperial soldier, spacer, Fleet officer, Stormtrooper, and civil servant—to do that would be to continue the evil that the Emperor wrought upon us all. He laughs at us from beyond the grave, for we perpetuate the cycle of violence and hate and anger and fear. We cannot change the past, we can only look to our future.”

“And that future must include humans who once wore the Imperial uniform. We will punish those who committed atrocities—we will NOT punish those who acted in honor and fought against the New Order in their own way. With the establishment of the Imperial Union of the Rim, we announce that as of this moment in history, we will no longer be shackled by the past—we will move forward. Forging this new Union between all species, between all political beliefs, so that our people—OUR PEOPLE—may live their lives in peace and security, their rights assured under our laws.”

“Twenty-two Sectors have pledged themselves to this cause, citizens of the Galaxy. Twenty-two brave Moffs have stepped forward and said that the times must CHANGE. And they will.”

“In proof of that, I, Lord Steward Garm bel Iblis of the Imperial Union of the Rim, have ordered that all Union forces—and the Gaulus Sector forces under Moff Anton Shal—to immediate leave the Ryloth system,” Garm paused and his face grew sad. “Palpatine kept the people of Twi’lek in servitude. It was a crime which has shamed us all. Slavery will not be tolerated in the Union. I declare this day that Ryloth is a free and independent world, owing no allegiance to my own Union or to any other Power in this Galaxy. To the Twi’lek people, I extend to you my hand in friendship—the Union will do all that you ask to rebuild Ryloth, to repair the damage not only to your world, but to the trust and camaraderie that once existed between humans and Twi’leks.”

“And to those—be they unrepentant Imperials or criminals in service to the Syndicates or minions of the Hutts—who would once again enslave the Twi’lek people, know this: any action against Ryloth will be considered by the Union to be an action against us. Test us on this at your own peril.”

“Our road ahead will not be an easy one—for the hate which has grown over the last twenty years will not be easily set aside. Not for humans, nor for Wookies, nor for Twi’leks, or Sullustans, or Bothans, or any of the other living sapient species of this Galaxy. It will not be easy to set aside that hate and that anger, but we must. If we do not, we become the thing we fight. Just as the Emperor was wrong in depriving every species of their rights under the law for not being human, we would be wrong in painting every soul who served the Empire as a black-hearted monster.”

“The Union will not walk that path—we have established our own Senate. We will enact our own Laws. And we will defend the freedom and liberty and rights of ALL people across this Galaxy. And to this, I and the twenty-two Moff who have signed today this Charter, this Declaration of Universal Rights, we pledge unto you our honor, our lives, and our sacred treasures.”

“I am Garm bel Iblis, who founded the Alliance to the Restore the Republic. Who fought the Emperor from within the Senate and then with force of arms. And today, I tell you all there is the third way. This Union will walk that path, and we welcome all who seek to join with us, in friendship and in peace. But for those who would seek to do us harm, be warned! We will fight. All of us—human and non-human alike.”

The holo-cam turned to a massive crowd of cheering people—human and alien—as fireworks erupted overhead and a flight of TIE Avengers streaked by low in the sky.

And Mon Mothma heard a Corellian curse from the door. She turned her head to see Han and Leia Solo standing there, their faces just as drained as hers. Han shook his head in disbelief. “Senator bel Iblis—but he’s dead. He’s DEAD.”

“Mon Mothma?” said Leia gently as she placed her hand on the older woman’s shoulder. “Mon Mothma?”

And the Chief of State’s eyes slowly cleared and she shuddered. “I believe that we might have a problem, Leia. Assemble the staff—and ask General Cracken to attend. I want to know why we were not aware of this before it became public knowledge.”

[jpdt19]

Hehehehehe Hehehehehe Hehehehe

Yes, Alliance intelligence appears to have dropped the ball....slightly!