"As I recall it was you who invited the Mandalorians here. This is your responsibility to take care of but since you seem unable to do so, I will be taking care of it for you. I haven't decided what to do with you, the Vizier has given me the discretion to go over Governor Tarkin in this matter since we have lost an engineer and several troopers," he said calmly but his lips twitched upward.
"Your uncle has given me nothing. You have done this yourself, Minister, you have no one to blame but yourself."
All she wanted to do was cave his skull in with her bare hands. She wanted that so desperately she could already imagine what it would feel like. The shards of bone cutting into her hands. The pulp of brain matter and hot blood.
Stop that. Focus.
Maketh drew herself up, fists clenched. "I have always acted in the best interests of the Empire. That ought to be understood."
Apparently she had been too subtle in her machinations. It was past time for an assassination attempt.
"Then I suggest you act like it and handle the situation you created," Krennic remarked cooly. Maketh had provided him with everything he had needed to destroy her and Tarkin at the same time.
It was almost too good to be true.
"I do not doubt your loyalty, only your judgment. And, of course, Governor Tarkin's. The Vizier agrees and the decision has already been made. You will be demoted but retain your title of Minister. We simply cannot have you causing situations like this in the future."
Handle the situation you created. As if he hadn't stuck his nose where it didn't belong in the first place. Maketh shivered just once, then smiled. It was her officer-smile. The one she wore when she knew with bone deep certainty that lives were at stake and her actions would seal their fate. Today it was her life hanging over the edge. Krennic had already ordered her officers dead. Her gamble had been too ambitious; she'd made a mistake. By right, the Empire could still kill her for that failure.
This was a chance for redemption, Maketh realized suddenly. She could prove her devotion still.
"I understand perfectly," she hissed, though the smile threatened to split her face. Her eyes were full of rage. "The judgement of our Emperor is swift and just. May we serve his interests with all our strength."
"Good, I'm glad. I trust you'll be able to handle the Mandalorians since they are your guests," Krennic said as he turned his attention back to the screen. He could still feel the marks Harper had left on him and lingering soreness, it made him smirk as he glanced over at her again.
"I trust this won't be too much trouble. You do want a chance to redeem yourself, don't you?"
Krennic was entirely too smug not to have had a hand in this. Though Maketh dearly wished she could kill him herself - preferably with a rock - she decided then it would have to be quiet. Something the rebels could be blamed on.
First, she had to deal with her uncle.
"I serve the Emperor's will," Maketh snapped, a touch too loud. "In all ways. As do we all."
Or they should have.
"I believe our positions have been clarified," she said, a little calmer. "Is that not so, Commander?"
"I am glad we have clarified that, Minister. If there is anything I can do to assist you, please don't hesitate to ask," Krennic offered as he turned his attention back to the screen. He was sure that she would be plotting something, he doubted that she would be dealt with so easily.
Even now he knew that she could at least be used in Tarkin's revenge. The grand moff was supposedly cutting his operation short and hoping to return to Lothal so he had to be prepared.
It was tempting to just smash Krennic's stupid head in with his own data pad, but Maketh - unlike some people - knew her place. Hers was not to stamp her feet and get what she wanted by force. No, hers was to wait patiently and pounce at the opportune moment.
"I'm glad we understand each other. I did want to say, off the record, that I've at least enjoyed your uncle's company," he remarkd as he looked bad at his datapad. "Give him my regards, Minister.
Is there anything else you need?"
Only then did he glance up, amused. He was hoping that she would be angry to try to try something, he would enjoy using that against her.
Maketh frowned, not bothering to hide it. Obviously they'd come to an agreement on something. She didn't know what Krennic had that Harper could possibly want, though. Credits? Perhaps access to some weapon the Empire was developing. "Really. Do enlighten me, Commander."
"Now that, perhaps, you should as your uncle about." He was sure Harper would have quite the story to tell. However, the details of their deal would remain between them for now but he was sure that Maketh could guess as to the gist of their discussion.
That smile meant his comment had to have struck some nerve.
"Is there anything else, Minister?" He would play along and enjoy watch what happened with her uncle. And it would be interesting to see how she would come back at him.
"No, I believe we understand each other," Maketh said through clenched teeth.
Oh, she was going to murder him and mutilate his corpse.
**
A few hours later, one of Tarkin's subordinates delivered some security tapes to Minister Tua.
It took a good ten minutes for the yelling to stop. Apparently, the junior officers whispered, the Minister had thrown a chair at a Death Trooper. Apparently he'd decided it was safer not to dodge.
The minister then spent a good amount of time yelling at anyone who wandered into her line of sight and cursing both Commander Krennic and her uncle.
**
For his part, Harper was thoroughly enjoying his stay on Lothal. Even though the rebels had decided it was safer to go to ground and risk a few civilian deaths rather than facing the combined wrath of the Empire and Harper's soldiers, guessing - correctly - that eventually someone would run out of patience or credits and something would have to give. But while that half of Maketh's plan might have failed, she had allowed Harper's soldiers to train some of her storm troopers.
Currently the death toll was holding steady at five. The ones who'd managed to keep up showed some promise, once they stopped crying. A few might even become decent warriors and the rest would be sufficient entertainment.
All and all, the venture wasn't entirely wasted.
At the moment, Harper was sitting by the fire and playing cards with his second in command. Ossor was terrible at it, but he made up for his failure with cards by knowing everything worth hearing. Currently he was filling Harper in on the camp gossip.
Xo, one of his lieutenants, had gotten herself pregnant. She was quite pleased with this turn of events, even though the man she'd chosen to father the child had been proven ill-suited to the task and subsequently been shot and buried in the desert by another warrior who also wanted the honor of raising a heir to Mandalore. There had been some fighting to establish exactly who would stand at Xo's side for the task and it had maimed more men than Harper normally cared for. But a child was cause for celebration regardless of parentage, and Harper knew the importance of ceremony and tradition. Such things had to be recognized properly. Currently they were all drinking to the honor of Xo and her coming child, as well as the fighting to come. Most of his men were drunk or brawling and the rest were either asleep or off causing trouble in the city. So long as they didn't forget their honor, Harper didn't much care what they did. No doubt a few more would come to him and argue to take either a lover or adopted child along with the battalion before the engagement was up. If their cause was strong, Harper would indulge them.
After all, few souls would ever live honorable lives on Lothal. It was for the best to take them away if they were willing.
Only the willing, though. Slaves bore weak children and made worse fighters, and thus were forbidden.
A burst of static crackled in Ossor's headpiece. He frowned, then set his cards down. "Your man is here."
Harper raised an eyebrow. "Really. All the way out here?"
He'd taken his soldiers out of Lothal and into the desert, where they could be loud without frightening the locals. It was cold and stark and reminded him of better times. The sky was clear and full of stars. His men were drunk and laughing.
Ossor stood, pulling his helmet on. "He brought Death Troopers. Shall we kill them?"
"No," Harper murmured, considering his cards. "Well, certainly not all of them. That would be rude. He came out all this way. Give them something to drink. If they refuse our hospitality, then remind them of our customs."
"And your man?"
Harper bared his teeth. "Now, now. He's hardly mine. Let the commander in. I'm sure he wants something."
Somewhere Grand Moff Tarkin stepped away from his console after giving his orders, shuddering once more as he reached for his glass of brandy. There was nothing that could erase what he had seen those on those tapes from his mind. He just hoped Minister Tua could make Krennic's existence on Lothal as miserable as possible.
Krennic decided to take matters into his hands. While Maketh Tua was no doubt plotting his death, he had Mandalorians to deal with. He could have sent a subordinate which was the tactic most Imperial officers would have done but he wasn't like most other officers. Instead, he went down there himself into the desert in his white uniform, smirking when he and his two troopers were greeted by the Mandalorians.
He could tell they were bored and he would have to fix that.
"Stand down, enjoy your time here," Krennic murmured to the troopers with a grin The Deathtroopers looked at each other with silent confusion before looking around at the cheering soldiers. "Have a drink, we will be here for awhile."
He looked up when he was told to follow the soldier, leaving behind the troopers to join the fun. Surely they would have a good time.
"Well, you seem to be enjoying yourself out here," he remarked with amusement as he approached Harper. It was rather lovely out in the desert away from the lights of the city. The stars were bright, the sky was clear, and despite the noise of the soldiers it was strangely peaceful compared to the chaos of the city and the Imperial compound.
Ossor glanced at Harper for a moment, awaiting orders. Harper waved him away and began shuffling the cards again. Despite the nose and flash of fire - and a few silenced blaster hits; a few of his men were using a protesting droid for target practice - they were relatively separated from the group. About as close to privacy as one came without retreating to the ships.
It was only polite.
Harper shuffled the cards, watching Krennic. "One of my lieutenants is pregnant. Another has taken a wife. The spirit of Mandalore lives in their actions and what honor their blood will bring our cause."
"Do you think I would have sent another officer?" He asked with a laugh as he sat by the fire without a second thought, without waiting for an invitation.
"It sounds like your men need something else to occupy their time. I think we can find something for them to bring honor to Mandalore," he said, getting right to the heart of the matter.
"But first, aren't you going to offer me a drink?" Just because he was here for business that didn't mean that there couldn't be a little fun.
"We would have treated them as we treated you," Harper said mildly. "So long as they honored our customs. Or made things interesting enough."
Krennic had no honor, not in the way that matters. Several of Harper's men are were watching him with open contempt. Even so, they did move any closer. Their leader has made a choice. Until someone stronger took his head, Harper's word remained law.
So it goes.
Harper smiled, then picked up a discarded bottle. There was still enough beer left to count.
"We brew it ourselves, you know. A very special blend." He held it out for Krennic. "What do you want, Imperial? We don't answer to you."
"And miss out on the fun myself? I couldn't pass this up," he remarked with amusement. He knew the looks he was getting but he ignored it as he looked at Harper instead.
"No, you don't answer to me but I can't imagine you want to sit out in the desert drinking," he pointed out as he took the bottle. He didn't hesitate to take a drink of beer. "I've never had Mandalorian beer before, but it's not bad at all."
Definitely not something that would have been found in Tarkin's collection like the wine they had before.
Harper just smiled. "We make it with bone marrow. From our enemies, of course."
Not really. It was just something they said to see if people flinched.
Harper leaned back in his chair. "We have a contract. Even if the rebels don't take the bait. Maybe we killed a few of your engineers, but they were weak. We'll be here until that contract is done. Or my niece runs out of money."
"I'm not surprised. It gives it a certain....something special." Not so much of a flinch, he even took a second drink, finishing off the bottle. It would take more than that to get him to startle.
"The engineers may be weak but we do need them," he pointed out. "But I think you would take more pleasure fighting more than just weak engineers and I have something in mind that will give you that," he remarked as he looked at Harper.
"The rebels are planning an operation on Lothal shortly and they are going to be throwing quite a bit of force into their attack." At his encouragement, of course. "But if you prefer to sit in the desert and drink, I will not stop you. It is rather nice out here," he mentioned as he looked up at the stars.
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"Your uncle has given me nothing. You have done this yourself, Minister, you have no one to blame but yourself."
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All she wanted to do was cave his skull in with her bare hands. She wanted that so desperately she could already imagine what it would feel like. The shards of bone cutting into her hands. The pulp of brain matter and hot blood.
Stop that. Focus.
Maketh drew herself up, fists clenched. "I have always acted in the best interests of the Empire. That ought to be understood."
Apparently she had been too subtle in her machinations. It was past time for an assassination attempt.
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It was almost too good to be true.
"I do not doubt your loyalty, only your judgment. And, of course, Governor Tarkin's. The Vizier agrees and the decision has already been made. You will be demoted but retain your title of Minister. We simply cannot have you causing situations like this in the future."
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This was a chance for redemption, Maketh realized suddenly. She could prove her devotion still.
"I understand perfectly," she hissed, though the smile threatened to split her face. Her eyes were full of rage. "The judgement of our Emperor is swift and just. May we serve his interests with all our strength."
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"I trust this won't be too much trouble. You do want a chance to redeem yourself, don't you?"
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First, she had to deal with her uncle.
"I serve the Emperor's will," Maketh snapped, a touch too loud. "In all ways. As do we all."
Or they should have.
"I believe our positions have been clarified," she said, a little calmer. "Is that not so, Commander?"
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Even now he knew that she could at least be used in Tarkin's revenge. The grand moff was supposedly cutting his operation short and hoping to return to Lothal so he had to be prepared.
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She gritted her teeth and made herself smile.
"Of course, sir."
She was going to kill him. Slowly.
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Is there anything else you need?"
Only then did he glance up, amused. He was hoping that she would be angry to try to try something, he would enjoy using that against her.
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"So he did come to see you."
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"I know what you expected when you invited him and the other Mandalorians here, Minister."
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"Is there anything else, Minister?" He would play along and enjoy watch what happened with her uncle. And it would be interesting to see how she would come back at him.
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Oh, she was going to murder him and mutilate his corpse.
**
A few hours later, one of Tarkin's subordinates delivered some security tapes to Minister Tua.
It took a good ten minutes for the yelling to stop. Apparently, the junior officers whispered, the Minister had thrown a chair at a Death Trooper. Apparently he'd decided it was safer not to dodge.
The minister then spent a good amount of time yelling at anyone who wandered into her line of sight and cursing both Commander Krennic and her uncle.
**
For his part, Harper was thoroughly enjoying his stay on Lothal. Even though the rebels had decided it was safer to go to ground and risk a few civilian deaths rather than facing the combined wrath of the Empire and Harper's soldiers, guessing - correctly - that eventually someone would run out of patience or credits and something would have to give. But while that half of Maketh's plan might have failed, she had allowed Harper's soldiers to train some of her storm troopers.
Currently the death toll was holding steady at five. The ones who'd managed to keep up showed some promise, once they stopped crying. A few might even become decent warriors and the rest would be sufficient entertainment.
All and all, the venture wasn't entirely wasted.
At the moment, Harper was sitting by the fire and playing cards with his second in command. Ossor was terrible at it, but he made up for his failure with cards by knowing everything worth hearing. Currently he was filling Harper in on the camp gossip.
Xo, one of his lieutenants, had gotten herself pregnant. She was quite pleased with this turn of events, even though the man she'd chosen to father the child had been proven ill-suited to the task and subsequently been shot and buried in the desert by another warrior who also wanted the honor of raising a heir to Mandalore. There had been some fighting to establish exactly who would stand at Xo's side for the task and it had maimed more men than Harper normally cared for. But a child was cause for celebration regardless of parentage, and Harper knew the importance of ceremony and tradition. Such things had to be recognized properly. Currently they were all drinking to the honor of Xo and her coming child, as well as the fighting to come. Most of his men were drunk or brawling and the rest were either asleep or off causing trouble in the city. So long as they didn't forget their honor, Harper didn't much care what they did. No doubt a few more would come to him and argue to take either a lover or adopted child along with the battalion before the engagement was up. If their cause was strong, Harper would indulge them.
After all, few souls would ever live honorable lives on Lothal. It was for the best to take them away if they were willing.
Only the willing, though. Slaves bore weak children and made worse fighters, and thus were forbidden.
A burst of static crackled in Ossor's headpiece. He frowned, then set his cards down. "Your man is here."
Harper raised an eyebrow. "Really. All the way out here?"
He'd taken his soldiers out of Lothal and into the desert, where they could be loud without frightening the locals. It was cold and stark and reminded him of better times. The sky was clear and full of stars. His men were drunk and laughing.
Ossor stood, pulling his helmet on. "He brought Death Troopers. Shall we kill them?"
"No," Harper murmured, considering his cards. "Well, certainly not all of them. That would be rude. He came out all this way. Give them something to drink. If they refuse our hospitality, then remind them of our customs."
"And your man?"
Harper bared his teeth. "Now, now. He's hardly mine. Let the commander in. I'm sure he wants something."
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Krennic decided to take matters into his hands. While Maketh Tua was no doubt plotting his death, he had Mandalorians to deal with. He could have sent a subordinate which was the tactic most Imperial officers would have done but he wasn't like most other officers. Instead, he went down there himself into the desert in his white uniform, smirking when he and his two troopers were greeted by the Mandalorians.
He could tell they were bored and he would have to fix that.
"Stand down, enjoy your time here," Krennic murmured to the troopers with a grin The Deathtroopers looked at each other with silent confusion before looking around at the cheering soldiers. "Have a drink, we will be here for awhile."
He looked up when he was told to follow the soldier, leaving behind the troopers to join the fun. Surely they would have a good time.
"Well, you seem to be enjoying yourself out here," he remarked with amusement as he approached Harper. It was rather lovely out in the desert away from the lights of the city. The stars were bright, the sky was clear, and despite the noise of the soldiers it was strangely peaceful compared to the chaos of the city and the Imperial compound.
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It was only polite.
Harper shuffled the cards, watching Krennic. "One of my lieutenants is pregnant. Another has taken a wife. The spirit of Mandalore lives in their actions and what honor their blood will bring our cause."
He smiled, setting the cards aside.
"You're bold, coming all the way out here."
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"It sounds like your men need something else to occupy their time. I think we can find something for them to bring honor to Mandalore," he said, getting right to the heart of the matter.
"But first, aren't you going to offer me a drink?" Just because he was here for business that didn't mean that there couldn't be a little fun.
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Krennic had no honor, not in the way that matters. Several of Harper's men are were watching him with open contempt. Even so, they did move any closer. Their leader has made a choice. Until someone stronger took his head, Harper's word remained law.
So it goes.
Harper smiled, then picked up a discarded bottle. There was still enough beer left to count.
"We brew it ourselves, you know. A very special blend." He held it out for Krennic. "What do you want, Imperial? We don't answer to you."
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"No, you don't answer to me but I can't imagine you want to sit out in the desert drinking," he pointed out as he took the bottle. He didn't hesitate to take a drink of beer. "I've never had Mandalorian beer before, but it's not bad at all."
Definitely not something that would have been found in Tarkin's collection like the wine they had before.
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Not really. It was just something they said to see if people flinched.
Harper leaned back in his chair. "We have a contract. Even if the rebels don't take the bait. Maybe we killed a few of your engineers, but they were weak. We'll be here until that contract is done. Or my niece runs out of money."
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"The engineers may be weak but we do need them," he pointed out. "But I think you would take more pleasure fighting more than just weak engineers and I have something in mind that will give you that," he remarked as he looked at Harper.
"The rebels are planning an operation on Lothal shortly and they are going to be throwing quite a bit of force into their attack." At his encouragement, of course. "But if you prefer to sit in the desert and drink, I will not stop you. It is rather nice out here," he mentioned as he looked up at the stars.
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veeeery late >.>
<3
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