Fandom Hunting Among the Stars

[ImpartialRealist]

Poe Dameron, Arkansis
Arkansis’ incessant drizzle existed in stark contrast to the salt encrusted desert of Crait. The air was thick and heavy, not brittle and thin, and the sunlight hid behind the mantle of an overcast sky. After the blinding brightness of Crait, the scenery was an almost welcome one. Indeed, if not for the weight of decisions – both past and future – upon his shoulders, Poe Dameron may have even considered it nice. Not a planet he’d visit of his own violation, but one that possessed some manner of appeal at minimal exposure. Too long in its hold, however, and he’d end up a washed-out imitation. It was best, then, to keep moving.

Hand settling upon his hip, the weary pilot lifted his gaze to the sky. Droplets of water clung to his lashes and dripped into the curve of his eyes, the shorter strands of his hair curling around his forehead and neck in testament to the moisture that hovered over him like a second skin. He wasn’t there yet, but Poe knew he’d be craving a drier atmosphere by the time his mission – their mission, a voice in the back of his head reminded him – drew to its end. Whether or not he’d leave this planet a happy man had yet to be seen; he still needed to accomplish the first stage of the assignment after all: engagement. Tarkin wasn’t an easy woman to approach for conversation.

As droplet of water founds its way directly into his eye and he wondered, in some obscure corner of his mind, what the Pamarthen – whose own planet was awash with water – thought of Arkansis. She’d been quiet since leaving the rest of the Resistance with Finn and himself, the thinning of her lips and occasional tightness around her eyes hinting at words kept suppressed. The outward professionalism and compliance was appreciated, but a part of him wondered at the possibility of a façade. If her mind was busy elsewhere she’d be a danger to them all. Now, more than ever, that risk could not be taken.

Breath leaving his lungs in a long stream, Poe turned to the adults at his back. “We’re still in agreement about this portion of the assignment, correct?” Their destination was upon them; the time for hesitation was over. His eyes were serious and dark upon his face. “I talk first. Finn steps in where needed.”

The Pamarthen pursed her lips before nodding, eyes cutting towards the looming shape before them. From her, it was as much of an agreement as he’d get. “Finn?”

Lucyfer​

 

[Lucyfer]

Finn had never been to Arkanis, but he knew of it. It was the home of Brendol Hux, and Armitage Hux, though Armitage had not been upon it long before he was spirited away to the Unknown Regions, where the First Order came together. Even so, Finn knew it was important as a piece in the galaxy that supported General Hux. Many officers came from there, and recruits – those not taken as infants, as he was.

He was grateful for the falling rain, if only because like Poe, he was sick of deserts. Jakku, Crait – he would have screamed if they had to go some place like Tatooine. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case, not that this was much better.

Weather-wise, yes.

Atmosphere – no.

The clouds made the sky hazy, but that wasn’t all – smoke from previous battles made it hazy, and there were bits of metallic debris near them. ‘Senator Tarkin went to war.’ It was all over the HoloNews, as outcry after outcry came from Senators who defamed the actions of the Senator and demanded she answer for her crimes – and she’d released a simple statement


“Name the time, and place, and I’ll see you there to answer for them.”

Nothing came. Silence didn’t reign – they kept complaining, but Rose had pointed it out, when she woke, that no one was speaking as to where they would meet, even if the Tarkin seemed interested in answering for the so-called crimes. It had been at that point that Leia told them to go.

Finn had been against it. Not for any sane reason, but because the Tarkin name was still synonymous with the Empire. The First Order used the name – all those who obtained the rank of ‘Major’ bore it on their armbands, and Finn told Leia as much, but she’d countered. “Do you think the Tarkins agreed to that?”

No, they’d never want to share their name. That had been the implication. Leia was working to see through her own hatred of the family, and so, Finn had to try, to use what he knew of the First Order and make sure this wasn’t all for naught, and to keep Poe from getting…well…Poe-ish. Irrational, cocky, and loud. Finn loved him to death, but he could see how a clash of personalities could ruin things. He heard about what happened with Amilyn Holdo, after all.

His dark eyes focused away from the falling rain and smoky sky when he heard Poe call to him a second time, “Huh?” He realized he had been spoken to, and tried to backtrack in his head, recalling the sound of Poe’s voice moments ago. “Oh, right,” he nodded, “I got it, you talk first, you hold rank.”

Poe was Commander.

Finn was…well, no one. No one who could speak with any authority, anyway, so far as the Resistance went. “I understand, I’ll be good,” at least he thought he would be.

He knew he had a habit of interjecting himself, too. He looked over at their companion, silent so far. He didn’t know her well, but he’d asked Rose, briefly, about her – they were both mechanics, after all. Rose just said she’d lost a sibling, too. Annette Rylan, if he recalled the name of the dark-eyed woman right. “Excited?” Maybe anxious was a better question – he was. He wouldn’t tell himself to be calm though, he’d keep those thoughts internal, this time.

He gave an encouraging smile, hoping to get something out of her to help break the tension. He didn’t think that would be good if they came in with someone with an obvious chip on their shoulder.

~***~

Carise Sindian was dead, the spy long-suffered in the Senate and now, finally, gone. Agent Cashile Yularen dug up her allies, slicing through her datapads and other computers, and providing Imperatrix Octavia Tarkin with that information, while Grand General Adelaide Tagge kept things calm on the ground and rooted out any other First Order fighting forces.

There had not been many, to the satisfaction of Octavia. Hux had not thought to play defense, had thought anyone would strike.

It was a foolish move, and one she would not make. Grand Admiral Randulf Motti remained in the Seswenna Sector, protecting her home, and prepared to alert her at the first sign of so much as a probe droid.

Octavia had sent warnings to Carise’s allies. They would be next, if they did not immediately remove the First Order from their planets, revoke their support of it, and pay a tax to her for their own protection, or commit soldiers to her cause. Lothal had already submitted, always quick to remember what the Tarkins had done to their world before. After all – there was an entire city there named ‘Tarkintown’.

They weren’t going to imagine Octavia would be any less than Wilhuff, especially with her casual jokes of completing the dreadnaught, Black Saber. She hadn’t – she wouldn’t – but oh, the thought scared those who knew what it was, and fear was a powerful weapon in this war. Just as money was – and hadn’t Carise been rich?

“So with the sell of the Academy building, that provides another 560-ish million credits to allocate to the war machine.” Her aide, Maecenas, was saying as they walked through the manor that had once belonged to Carise Sindian, on towards the lounge, “And if this Lord Halwyn Elegin is worthy enough, I imagine we’ll have a continued influx of credits from the taxes of this world,” finding a successor for Arkanis was a matter of some importance – Octavia had no plans to stay there. She needed someone to hold down the fort, as it were, while she went after the rest of Hux’s allies and cut them down, showed them the First Order couldn’t protect them.

“Is he here already?” Octavia asked.

Maecenas nodded, “Aye, been here about, oh – 5 or so minutes. He came unarmed.”

“That was stupid.” Maecenas snorted at the comment, but didn’t deny it. “Remind me, where does he come from?”

“Asmeru – they are the descendants of Q’anah, that pirate Wilhuff dealt with years ago.” Maecenas knew she hadn’t forgotten. She just wanted to hear it again. He’d convinced her to see them, against her judgment. “The son of one of the triplets, no inheritance in his future.”

“Great,” the sarcasm was dripping, “some spoiled prat who is looking for his piece.”

“A good puppet.”

“We’ll see.” They took the turn into the hall with the lounge, and Octavia gave a nod to Maecenas, dismissing him, “Go be an aide elsewhere,” his work was honestly done better beyond her. He could have been an agent like Yularen, but he wanted the limelight of her side, so she allowed it. He was good with the PR, after all. He was going to have a hell of a time after this war, though.

The brunette nodded and dismissed himself, letting Octavia go ahead, dressed in Imperial attire, to greet the Lord who at least had the courtesy to rise at her arrival. “Lady Tarkin, it is an honor to meet you.”

“Governor Tarkin, if you please,” she corrected. She held no noble titles, nor did she plan to. “Sit. You’re only here because my aide said you would be good for Arkanis. I hardly believe it.” She had no plans of letting this one know he was in her good books, as she took a seat at the opposite couch, and calmly laid her hands in her lap as she fixed him with an inscrutable stare, “Convince me that I am wrong, Lord Elegin.”

ImpartialRealist