WILHUFF TARKIN

Admiral Tarkin walked to the bridge of the Destructor after a night of uneasy sleep. He had probably only had about four hours of sleep in all. The rest had been spent tossing and turning, because his thoughts hadn’t given him any peace.

But he didn’t let it show. Tarkin had learned long ago, like any good military officer, to let go of his feelings and his body’s needs in the face of a crisis, and to just focus on the task at hand. His own personal triumph was having gone four days without sleeping, and in terms of eating and drinking his record was two.

“Have the 501st and the 212th arrived yet?” he asked one of the officers manning the bridge’s scanners.

A moment later, two Imperial cruisers came out of hyperspace a few hundred meters from their position, clearly visible in the viewport. They maneuvered their massive bulk towards the other three, coming to a stop when they were alongside them. A Lambda-class T-4a shuttle flew out one of the cruiser’s hangars located on its hull and towards the Destructor.

That must be the two officers Lord Vader holds in such high esteem, Tarkin mused. I hope that trust is well placed.

“Yes sir,” the man replied after a moment. Tarkin gave him a look, and the man gulped, going back to his work.

“That teaches you to point out the obvious again,” he muttered under his breath. He was surrounded by idiots. Incompetent, under-qualified idiots.

Another man looked up from his work, flipping off his headphones. “Sir, the shuttle has landed in Hangar 12.”

Tarkin nodded, and continued to stare at the view, deep in thought. Every since his arrival to the Cial system a few standard days before, he had been baffled by the list of anomalies provided by an analyst of the planet’s geology, atmosphere, orbit and gravitational pull. Some of them didn’t even seem possible.

Cialone was a mystery. And it was one he definitely wanted solved.

A few minutes later, the door leading from the bridge to the corridor opened. Two men in Storm Trooper armor – one decorated in blue, and the other in yellow –walked in.

“Permission to come aboard, Admiral,” the one with the blue designs said politely.

“Permission granted, officers.” The two men took off their helmets in a fluid motion, and Tarkin was quite surprised to see that they were both clones, of the Jango Fett model.

It was strange that Vader had so much confidence in mere clones, and not the new cadets of all species. The clones were slowly being flushed out of the Imperial system, and yet Vader clung to the old and inefficient ways of the Republic. But he would have to work with his officers, no matter his opinion.

“Commander Cody and Captain Rex reporting for duty, sir!” they yellow one, Cody apparently, said, and they both saluted. It was a good thing they had different haircuts and armor, otherwise Tarkin wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart. Yet another flaw with using clone soldiers.

“At ease.” He walked over to the holo-transmitter, and they followed suit. “I understand that Lord Vader sent you with instructions as to how he wishes to proceed in the construction of the new outpost.”

“Yes Admiral,” Captain Rex said. “But the plan might require some rethinking, if the planet’s unusual conditions are taken into account.”

“Present it to me anyways. Then we shall work that out.”

Rex nodded, and Cody put a disc into the machine. Some of Tarkin’s officers got a little closer to listen. Then the briefing began.

*MWHAHAHAHHA I AM ON A ROLL!!! I love being able to write and update so regularly! It's a feeling I haven't had since I started high school... AND IT'S GREAT! Btw, the shuttle I mentioned is like the shuttle Tydirium in the sixth SW movie that Luke, Leia, Chewbacca and Han use to sneak past the Imperial blockade to get to Endor.

Get your hand cut off by Count Dooku and may the Force be with you,

Sharron