INCIDENT AT ERHYNRADD
Admiral Jirak Worrell glanced over at the captain of his flagship. The captain nodded
back to him. "We cannot allow personal sentiments to corrupt our better judgment,
Admiral. Do what you must."
"We will not tolerate insurrection of this kind! If those traitors down there will not follow
the Emperor's orders, then they will be destroyed! Fire! Wipe our the entire facility!"
Admiral Worrell ordered, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, and his flagship's guns
trained on the mutinous army installation below on Erhynradd. The installation's
brigadier and his personnel had refused yet again to join the ruthless subjugation effort
against the planet Calamari.
The two gunners looked pensively at their captain.
"Do as the admiral says! Now!" Captain Morgana Tarkin snapped. The two gunners
promptly obeyed, but continued to watch the captain out of the corners of their eyes.
As bright flashes returned from the surface of the planet where the green turbolaser
bolts met their marks, Captain Tarkin turned her back to the viewscreen, her arms folded
decisively across her chest. "Sorry, Mama . . . " she whispered under her breath. When
she was sure enough turbolaser volleys had been launched to destroy the facility below,
she turned back around to face the plumes of smoke rising from the surface. "You
brought this on yourself, Gideon."
* * *
A smartly uniformed Imperial officer quietly entered the captain's ready room. She rose
to face him, and the two saluted each other stiffly. "As you were," she told him.
"We've completed the mop-up and recovery. There were nine survivors." He hesitated,
then continued, lowering his voice a bit. "We have also recovered the brigadier. He is
dead. I'm sorry, Captain."
"Don't be sorry, Lieutenant. Gideon never did have much in the way of spine or brains.
He chose his path, just as Wilhuff and I chose ours. It was bound to come to this." She
then ordered her brother's body placed in refrigeration, and dismissed the lieutenant.
Brigadier Gideon Tarkin, who had served the Old Republic with loyalty and distinction,
lay dead for his beliefs in the sanctity of life--both human and alien--leaving behind a
four-year-old daughter, his recently-widowed alcoholic mother, and a brother and sister
who had always hated him, but who loved the new Empire with every fiber of their
beings.
* * *
Captain Tarkin approached the comms officer, still no emotion in her demeanor. "Get me
a secure channel to the Star Destroyer Decimator above Calamari. I must speak with my
brother. When you have him, I'll take it in my ready room. Tell him that I have word on
his reinforcements, and also that there has been a family emergency."
Morgana's remaining brother was Captain of the Imperial Fleet and Moff of the
Seswenna Sector, currently spearheading the operation at the most tenacious and
resistant world of Calamari. He had earned the promotions and titles two years previous
on the backs of a landing pad full of Ghormani tax protestors--upon who he landed his
ship anyway, killing most of them and grievously injuring the rest. He often took his
personal frustrations out on his battlefield enemies. Of late, he and his wife were having
little success at growing the large family they had always wanted, particularly after
losing a son at the end of the Clone Wars, and the longer this struggle continued, the
more ruthless and savage Wilhuff became. No one was safe from him now.
"We won't be bringing those reinforcements from Erhynradd. It was just as we expected,"
Morgana informed Wilhuff matter-of-fact when he joined her on the comm. "Gideon's
dead. We have his body aboard."
"You didn't flinch? I'm proud of you, Morgana!"
"Yes, well, it seems that all of our little private plans went quite well here. Now you and
Thalassa at last have little Rivoche for yourselves." She smiled softly yet triumphantly at
her older brother.