The recently appointed Grand Moff Tarkin straightened his new uniform in a holo-mirror within his high-level apartment on Coruscant, a look of smug satisfaction written across his face.
Indeed, his elevation to such a level of power over his last few decades had impressed him - first as an little-known political advisor on Naboo, then a gradual rise under the watchful eyes of Palpatine, a man who had by circumstance possessed the same views of might and control. He'd lived through the Clone Wars as one of many of Palpatine's advisors, secretly aware of the pathetic Jedi Council's fate and the power his friend possessed. Wisely he had stood in the sidelines, onlying intervening when it suited him. And thus when the eradication of the Jedi had been completed, Tarkin received his postion of Governer of his home world Eriadu and its surrounding systems.
In the six years which had passed since the end of the Republic and the rise of the Galactic Empire, Tarkin had already proven himself and created more than a fearful reputation of his loyalty and respect towards his Emperor, to the point where only perhaps Palpatine's apprentice, Vader, understood his aims and ambitions so successfully.
Vader, yes. Tarkin paused in the fastening of his insigmas on his uniform to ponder the enigma of Vader. True, he alone knew the truth of the Sith Lord's real identity - the fallen Anakin Skywalker, last of a wasteful and foolish religion. Yes, the Jedi were extinct, and Vader and his master was all that was left of their decadent ways.
Completeing his outfit Tarkin reviewed a holo-crystal in his hand, displaying the image that only he and a few like-minded individuals were aware on - the ongoing construction of the Death Star. Tarkin had been assigned near-full responsibility on the update in its progress, not to mention the difficulties which proceeded making it secure from prying eyes and how to mantain a machine the size of a small moon.
But its long development would be worth it. Once the Death Star was completed, the Emperor would have little need for the Senate and all the political levers which sprang with it. Tarkin had already filled a report to Palpatine on a philosophy which would suit the atmosphere of such a regime. He expected his superior would understand its reasonings and fully approve. No, he knew Palpatine would. Such was their identical beliefs, he needed no reasoning for that.
Tarkin switched off the tactical update on the Death Star and proceeded out into the air of a planted-sized city. For a few seconds he took in the air-taxis, inhabitants and the shining buildings which crowded round his Imperial Quarters. To a man who could remember the days of the Republic he could certainly say that few changes had impacted the Coruscant skyline, save perhaps the presence of vast Imperial barriers adorning its gleaming walls. Even the Jedi Temple had been converted into something of a residence for his Sith Superior.
But Tarkin knew the greatest change across the capital of the Imperial Order. He could see it in the eyes of every man, woman and child he passed in the streets as he made his way to his personal Airtaxi, not some two blocks away, escorted by his own Stormtrooper squad.
Fear. Fear of death. Fear of their true feelings being revealed to those who might use it against them. Fear of loss of those they cared for. All of these things made them pretend the Empire was their protecter and ally.
Tarkin smiled inwardly. This single fact proved the idealogy he intended to embrace when the last strands of the Republic crumbled into dust would be ideal.
The doors to the airtaxi slit shut, there was some shuffling outside as Tarkin's personal chauffer entered it, already checked in Imperial Troops to not house any weapons which might be used to kill such a highly regarded officer of the Empire. He did not speak to Tarkin but rather steered the craft in the desired direction. Tarkin prefered that way.
He reviewed his morning in full. First to the Galactic Senate, where Palpatine would utilise his political powers to the most in expressing the danger of a newly formed threat to the Empire - a ragtag band of Rebels Tarkin barely thought glancing at. Then to the Imperial Residences for the far more significant discussion with his Emperor on the matter of his Regime Profile, including lunch. Then Tarkin would be shipped out to the highly secret Maw Installation to oversee the final completion of his long-awaited Prototype of the Death Star, started at the same time as the other on his own suggestion.
In what he expected would be about one week, he would prove his loyalty to the Empire and its Emperor's plans by overseeing the ultimate test of the Super-Laser he expected would be built into the Death Star's core.
Finished with his mental report Tarkin stared out of his Air-Taxi, content with his beliefs and expectations. In a matter of minutes, he would be at the Senate Chambers, where no doubt Vader would be waiting for him.
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